Art, across its many forms, styles, and genres, has the ability to leapfrog cultural political and other divides and open us up to ideas and sentiments that don’t necessarily appear in our everyday comfort zone. Keren and Avner Pessach firmly believe in that concept and have been putting it to beneficial and entertaining use for over two decades from their base at Kibbutz Ramat Rachel.
The Pessachs’ vehicle of artistic and cultural expression is Remangar, a flamenco dance company that regularly tours the country with its productions, while also nurturing the talents of promising young dancers assuming the mantle, or mantilla (flamenco dance shawl), and keeping the art form’s flame burning brightly.
Remangar’s new show is called Darabar, which kicks off a protracted national circuit at the Jerusalem Theater on April 6 (8:30 p.m.), followed by performances in Haifa (April 13), Beersheba (April 18), and the Suzanne Dellal Center in Tel Aviv (May 5). All being well – it’s anyone’s guess how current regional developments will pan out in the near future – the tour runs through to November.
The work was ready and waiting to take the stage in October, but the Hamas attack summarily put that on ice.
We could all do with some positive vibes as things stand, and the Pessachs and their troupe might just have a happiness elixir to offer us.
A happiness elixir through flamenco
“Darabar is a [Roma] word which means ‘to praise,’” Keren explains. Now, that’s something worth getting into. Instead of running a critical eye over each other, how about indulging in some mutual gentle patting on the back?
“It is a sort of secret language, and not many people grasp all the ways it can be interpreted,” she adds.
Keren and her husband and partner in flamenco endeavor, Avner, are among the few who have a decent handle on the linguistic and cultural intricacies of the said vernacular. They spent 10 years in Spain learning the craft and honing their skills with the feted Los Farrucos Roma clan in Seville.
“We were very fortunate to get to know Los Farrucos,” Avner notes. “They distilled the fundamental potential of the artistic movement [inherent in flamenco]. In fact, we don’t feel we perform flamenco. We perform Farrucos,” he chuckles. “We perform in their style.”
They have a unique talent and mercurial character to follow – the head of the Los Farrucos outfit, the late Antonio Montoya Flores, better known as “El Farruco.” He was true flamenco royalty. He came from the Montoya dynasty of flamenco artists, which included groundbreaking guitarists, as well as dancers, and had a singular style and onstage demeanor. The Pessachs could have done far worse.
“It is flamenco, but there are different nuances,” Avner continues. “There is the precision, the presence, and the intensity.”
THE LATTER is core to the discipline, but Avner says he, Keren, and the rest of the Remangar gang infuse their work with elements that are not always readily identified with flamenco.
“You can introduce a sense of mischief, and of freedom,” he laughs.
The Pessachs impart that to their charges, along with a free-flowing approach to dance.
“We have a large school in Tel Aviv where we explore movement. People come to us, and they are very stiff. Keren brings the power, and I bring the tenderness. Sometimes you are completely enveloped in the dance, and other times you relax completely.” That sounds like a winning complementary credo.
Avner believes the central tenet of the new show helps. “I think that this praise we give out helps us to relax even more,” he says.
There are curative advantages embedded in that avenue of thought on offer, too.
“I think it allows us to show that, in fact, this movement is universal. We need to distance ourselves a little from the subject and understand the objectivity of the movement, of the release. We get away a little from ourselves, which we can do when we give out praise. We focus on the thing itself, not on ourselves.” That entails setting our ego to one side, at least partially, and possibly while we watch the Pessachs et al going through their paces in Darabar.
The Pessachs had already intimated that there is more to the new work than meets the flamenco-tuned eye; and the left-field approach is accentuated by the guest spot in Darabar occupied by Ethiopian-born Israeli multidisciplinary artist Dege Feder. That certainly suggests that some cultural layering is the order of the day.
Keren says it is not just about ethnic roots and cultural baggage.
“Dege is an amazing personality. She works in all sorts of fields. She dances and also sings in the show.”
Feder also fits the philosophy bill. “We looked for someone who can also bring that sense of release. She has so much freedom in what she does, and that is what we are looking to convey in this show.”
The Pessachs are not afraid of chucking a spanner into their creative works.
“Dege helps us to take a step back from the familiar and ask questions,” Avner conjoins. “We need to ask why we do this. Why she does what she does, and what our common ground is. That is magical.”
It has to take no small degree of courage to cast doubt on the very essence of their artistic credo and the mainstay of their life, both on stage and out there in the quotidian world. “We first and foremost need to be grateful for our relationship,” says Avner. “I think that one of the secrets behind Remangar’s success is the relationship between me and Keren. I could not do this on my own.” We return to the complementary theme.
“The difference between us allows us to distill the good in this. It is not about who knows more than the other. It is about the discussion of the issue, which is very precise.” There may be exploratory efforts behind the staged, finished product – that is, besides all the training and drill – but at the end of the day, Avner feels all that pays dividends and yields a go-with-the-flow capacity, an indispensable component of the artistic process. You are not going to get very far with putting your ideas into aesthetic practice if you keep on having to stop and check if you’re getting the brass tacks in the right order.
“Movement is always present in our lives, inescapably. We enjoy it more and also make less of an effort. That is also an important criterion.” That harks back to the idea of release and freedom, and the ability to let it all hang out, unimpeded by tactical and cerebral considerations.
There are benefits for all to be gleaned.
“That’s the way we recommend to our students and also, by the way, to the audience,” Avner states. “We progress, we take chances, and we are not afraid of making mistakes.”
That is a delightful prospect, especially in an age when fear is constantly sewn into the fabric of lives by those with influence, and sociopolitical sensibilities abound.
THE PESSACHS were not immune to the horrors of Oct. 7. Their son’s best friend was taken hostage by Hamas and, thankfully, released in December. As if they were not already emotionally engaged, that national trauma came crashing directly into their lives.
That emotional watershed, and how to treat it, also inform the subtext to Darabar.
“It is a voyage back to ourselves,” Keren advises. “The show opens with a number by Farruquito.” That is the stage moniker of Spanish dancer and choreographer Juan Manuel Fernandez, of the aforementioned Montoya family. That sets a no-nonsense tone.
“It is very hardcore choreography. Really in your face,” says Keren.
“I see a lot of pain and feminism in it.”
But it is not all doom and gloom.
“Towards the end, we get to a rumba by [late legendary jazz musician] Chick Corea which says music will heal us. That is really the statement here. For me, as a dancer on the stage, there is a voyage here from pain to healing which, at the end of the day, says, ‘Look, music will heal us – come and dance, and sing, and let things go.’”
Avner says that is a constant theme in his life and a healthy way forward for all.
“When we get up in the morning, we need to feel strong and vital.” One can only aspire. “There is a lot of power in the first dance of the show. By the way, this is the first time we have incorporated a big bamboo stick in the dance. It is like, in the morning, when we fill up with our greatest strengths and we explore who we are, through to our core.”
It is that strength, Avner believes, that conversely allows us to adopt a softer stance.
“The second part of the show is the Perdona, asking for self-forgiveness, and we slowly look at the tenderness inside us.”
A softer approach to the intense, feral, physicality that is quintessential to flamenco, with its stamping, staccato footwork and juddering gestures, sounds like a fitting fusion for these trying times.■
For tickets and more information: bit.ly/DARABAR and did.li/AZvrl
