What was next was an unprepossessing bodega

What was next was an unprepossessing bodega, a smoky café filled with leather jacketed Spanish workmen drinking at the bar and at the dozen tables in the room. At one end was a tablado, a slightly elevated platform, where two men strummed guitars. Tracy and Jeff were seated at a small table near the platform.

"Do you know anything about flamenco?" Jeff asked. He had to raise his voice over the noise level in the bar.

"Only that it's a Spanish dance."

"Gypsy, originally. You can go to fancy nightclubs in Madrid and see imitations of flamenco, but tonight you'll see the real thing."

Tracy smiled at the enthusiasm in Jeff's voice.

"You're going to see a classic cuadro flamenco. That's a group of singers, dancers, and guitarists. First they perform together, then each one takes his turn."

Watching Tracy and Jeff from a table in the corner near the kitchen, Daniel Cooper wondered what they were discussing intently.

"The dance is very subtle, because everything has to work together--- movements, music, costumes, the building of the rhythm...."

"How do you know so much about it?" Tracy asked.

"I used to know a flamenco dancer."

Naturally, Tracy thought.




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