Just came home from Tio Parrilla, a small bar in Jerez where they do flamenco almost every night. Flamenco comes from Andalusia, and Jerez de la Frontera is its very birthplace. I’ve only before seen it on TV and the experience is fantastic. I still don’t know much, if anything else about it, but we loved it. One guitarist, one man who sang and stomped, one woman who mostly sang, and danced, another man who danced and acted as master of ceremonies, and made sure we knew when to clap and shout Ole, and two fabulous female dancers. What a blast. I think this is different than the more theatrical shows, but I am assured it is “the real thing.” I love the instant communication between the musicians. Everyone knew their part, yet nothing about the performance seemed rehearsed. Above all, the passion is astounding. I think that’s what flamenco is all about: the passion. The guitar playing is fairly simple. I told my son that all he need do is practice his Phrygian mode scales and he’ll be playing flamenco in no time. Still, he must add the passion.

(Kate insisted, properly, that she get credit for this photo.)