Silvia and me · Two paths in dance that met again in Córdoba
There are days you know will never leave your memory, even while you are living them.
Today was one of those days.
Since Silvia was very small, we have had a very special relationship. I was lucky enough to see her born, watch her grow, and discover early on an affection for her uncle Beni that always moved me.
Every time I returned from Japan, Silvia looked at me in a way I could not help but feel. She loved her uncle. She watched me dance, wanted to know what I was doing, and wanted to dance flamenco like me.
In a way, she wanted to be like that uncle who occasionally arrived from a distant country and had devoted his life to dance. Looking into those little girl’s eyes, I felt enormous affection. Yet neither of us could imagine where life would eventually take us.
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We each found our own path
Silvia grew up, continued studying dance, and entered the Conservatory in Córdoba, where she completed her studies. For a while, it seemed her path would remain close to flamenco.
But art has something wonderful about it: it does not always lead us along the road others imagine for us. Silvia found her own. Her body began to speak another language.
Bachata, modern dance, and her own way of expressing herself arrived. Little by little, the girl who wanted to dance like her uncle became an artist with a personality of her own.
Today she travels the world through dance, shares stages and projects with her partner, and has built a large community of people who follow her work. I look at her and think how lovely it is to see someone you love find their own path.
Perhaps, as a little girl, she wanted to dance like her uncle. But what really matters is that she learned to dance as Silvia.
— ◆ —
Today we entered a rehearsal studio together
Then this day came. After so many years, so many journeys, and so many different paths.
My niece and I entered a rehearsal studio together. Not to remember the past, not for me to teach her or for her to teach me. We went in to create together.
We wanted to prepare choreography for a video we would one day share on Instagram and our social networks. But what happened inside that studio became far more important to me than the video itself.
We began trying movements. I suggested an idea; Silvia answered with another. She changed something, and I immediately understood what she meant. One movement led to the next. One intention sparked another.
At one point, I realised something that moved me deeply: we understood each other. Not only as uncle and niece. We understood each other as artists.
— ◆ —
Two languages, one conversation
I have spent a lifetime within flamenco. Silvia has developed much of her present language through other styles. Our bodies have learned different things. Different experiences, generations, and paths.
Yet when we began creating together, those differences were no obstacle. Quite the opposite: they became a source of richness. Flamenco met her body; her way of moving met mine.
We did not need to decide which part belonged to whom. We were simply creating. As I watched her dance, I thought of the little girl who wanted to follow her uncle’s footsteps.
Today that girl was no longer behind me. She was beside me.
For years, I was the uncle Silvia watched, hoping one day to dance like him. Today, in a rehearsal studio, I discovered that she was no longer trying to follow my steps. She was creating her own alongside mine.
— ◆ —
Then came Córdoba
When we finished in the studio, we went out to film. What better setting than Córdoba? We explored some of its landmarks, looking for images, spaces, light, and corners where we could record our choreography.
But for me, it was no longer just about making a beautiful video. Every movement had another meaning. I was dancing with my niece, in our homeland, in the city that is part of our family history.
Two people from the same family, having followed different artistic paths, were meeting again through what we probably share most deeply: art.
As we filmed, I tried to savour every second. To savour Córdoba, happiness, movement, Silvia’s gaze, and every gesture my niece offered me.
I know that life goes by far too quickly. I also know that years from now we will be able to watch that video again and remember exactly who we were that day.
— ◆ —
Something for a lifetime
Sometimes we make videos thinking about Instagram, a post, views: something that will last a few seconds on someone’s screen. But this video will not be that for me. It will be a memory.
In ten, twenty, or thirty years, we will be able to watch it and say, “That day we were together in Córdoba, and we created this.”
Our bodies may change. We may no longer remember exactly how we built each step. We may forget a conversation in that studio. But I hope we never forget what we felt.
That day, I did not feel I was simply making a video with my niece. I felt we were leaving a little piece of ourselves in Córdoba so that we could return to it whenever we wished.
— ◆ —
The real gift
This trip to Spain is giving me many moments I could never have planned: reunions, family, conversations, my son discovering his roots, places I had forgotten, and people returning to my life.
Today I received another gift: meeting my niece as a fellow artist.
The girl who looked at me with fascination. The girl who wanted to dance flamenco like her uncle Beni. The girl who grew, studied, searched, changed direction, and built her own world. Today she stood before me.
No longer a child, no longer someone trying to imitate me, but a woman and an artist able to offer me her ideas, her movements, and her sensitivity.
Perhaps this is one of the deepest emotions anyone who has devoted their life to art can feel: seeing someone who once looked to you as an example become someone you can learn from too.
— ◆ —
Silvia
Today I am deeply moved. It was not just another day in Spain, nor just another day in Córdoba.
It was the day I could finally stand beside my niece, nurturing what I love most in this life: art.
As we danced, I felt that everything was exactly where it belonged. She with her path, I with mine, and for a few hours, those two paths became one.
Today I savoured more than Córdoba. I savoured happiness, art, and every movement my niece gave me. That memory is ours forever.
AlitaDePollo