Latinidades 5: ‘Yemayá Flamenco: When Fusion Overflows’
—Teresa Marrero
Yemayá Flamenco returns to the stage with its 2025 world premiere. Heightened ambition with a larger ensemble, expanded percussion sequences, and a bold declaration of cultural unity are the marks of this version. However, in its effort to amplify fusion/unity, some of the storytelling clarity that defined the 2024 work-in-progress version has been blurred. This is a comparative analysis that may make no sense to the enthusiastic sold-out audience who saw this piece for the first time at the Dallas Latino Cultural Center on October 11-12. Let me begin by saying that I was very much looking forward to this updated version.
“Then and now.”
In its earlier iteration, Yemayá Flamenco struck a powerful balance between the Spanish flamenco tradition and the Afro-Cuban roots that inspired its rhythmic core. The tension between these worlds—the pull of heritage and the implied dialogue of difference—was the emotional axis of the piece. This new version, while dazzling in scope, feels more intent on celebrating the fusion that unites, rather than exploring the friction that makes it meaningful.
Perhaps it is the times in which we are living. As a dancer in the Afro-Cuban tradition Michelle Gibson (New Orleans Original Buckshop) pointed out at the end of the performance: ¨Look at us here. All of us. We are community, despite what is going on out there.¨ The ‘all of us’ referred to the multi-racial cast and audience members who joined in the celebration, regardless of the political attempts to divide and conquer.
Visually, the production remains stunning. Costumes in blues invoke Yemayá, the Afro-Cuban orisha of the sea. The musicians are outstanding, and the flamenco and Afro-dancers radiate commitment and energy. The performers’ stamina alone is admirable.
“The drummers’ virtuosity is undeniable, but the moment overstays its welcome.”
What once served as a dialogue between rhythm and movement now feels like an assertion of virtuosity. The elongated percussion solo, though executed with precision and spirit, dominates the stage for what seems to be a long time, interrupting the choreographic flow that had previously driven the story forward. Beyond demonstrating the physical and musical prowess of the ensemble, it’s not clear what new emotional or narrative territory this section explores. The focus shifts from narrative to endurance (by the musicians). Clearly and deeply into their riffs, this section seemed more of an internal experience among the percussionists than an outreach towards the audience.
The symbolic gesture of merging the cajón and the Afro-Cuban drum remains an evocative, rhythmic conversation across the Atlantic. Where earlier versions invited reflection on difference and encounter, this staging leans toward the universalizing message of “we are all one.” The intention is generous, even utopian, but the result risks flattening the cultural specificity that made Yemayá Flamenco distinctive in the first place.
It’s in the tension between currents that we find the deepest motion.
That said, the performers’ commitment to the work’s spiritual essence is unquestionable. The invocation of Yemayá herself—the ocean mother who embraces all—retains emotional power. However, right from the beginning we see her performing Andalusian Sevillanas arm moves.
Why so soon?
When the ensemble moves in unified rhythm near the end, however, there is a genuine sense of release, of communal offering. The energy in the room is palpable, and the audience responded with enthusiasm.
Yemayá Flamenco remains a feast of sound and movement, a living bridge between worlds. For those who experienced it for the first time this year, this review may be irrelevant. I, too, found it moving. This does not erase my observations regarding the dramaturgy.
Credits: The New Orleans Original Buckshop director and performer, Michelle Gibson; spiritual consultant and songwriter Janet Sula Evans; percussion, Jawara A. Simon and Ethan Worland; with the collaboration of Santiago Marquez on drums and Javon Mitchell on the tambourine.
The Flame Foundation, Dallas, TX, bailaor and choreographer Antonio Arrebola; bailaora and co-producer Delilah Buitrón Arreola; music director, flamenco percussionist and cantaor Yiyi Francisco J. Orozco; flamencologist Julie Galle; flamenco Black company dancer Sasha Bowman; flamenco fusion songwriter Esther Weeks.
Mulato Teatro, Ticumán, Morelos, Mexico; dramaturg Jaime Chabaud and production dramaturg Marisol Castillo Castillo.
Cara Mía Theatre producer David Lozano and associate producer Gabriela Leodiou.
