The Unexpected Alchemy of Flamenco and Greek Tragedy

By Taryn Plater

In 441 BC, Sophocles’ classic play Antigone warned citizens of Athens about the dangers of an oppressive government, depicting a heroine who rebels in the interest of personal freedom. 2377 years later, Spain was thrown into a civil war which would last three years, and the repercussions of which would still be felt decades later.

The tragedy of Antigone has been adapted countless times. From new translations to operas, the story of a girl who defies the state in order to honour her family has resonated with audiences worldwide. But of all genres, what could bring this ancient story to life better than passionate, rebellious flamenco?

The New York City troupe Noche Flamenca seized this opportunity, and in 2014, Noche Flamenca’s Antigona premiered to enduring acclaim.

In 2010, Judge Baltasar Garzón advocated for the proper burial of those who fought against Franco during the Spanish Civil War. For this, Garzón was suspended from the Spanish court. This injustice helped spur artistic director Martín Santangelo to tell Antigone’s eerily topical story.

With this retelling, Santangelo draws parallels between Antigone’s story of principled disobedience and the injustices in our world. Creon’s almost arbitrary choice to glorify one brother and shame the other brings our attention to the irrationality of valuing one group of people over another, be it based on ideology, ethnicity, or other loyalties. Santangelo sees this injustice as it relates to those who were on the ‘wrong side’ of the Spanish Civil War, but countless other examples exist today.

Most striking of course, is the parallel between Creon’s decry to leave Polyneices’ corpse unburied on the battlefield, and the unmarked mass graves of insurgents against Franco’s rule. The disappearances of many dissenters, famously among them the poet Federico García Lorca, were not to be spoken of at the time, and these unmarked graves are still being identified today.

Flamenco has its roots in the mixing of cultures. It flourished under oppression when marginalized groups were brought together by common hardship, and it has been a vehicle for impassioned and defiant expression ever since. Noche Flamenca’s use of the dance form to express Antigone’s personal and moral rebellion seems only natural.

Between the chaos of the Spanish Civil War and the destruction of World War II, flamenco became less common during the 1930s and 40s – just when its themes were most relevant. Nevertheless, the art form experienced a second heyday in the 60s and 70s as artists incorporated jazz and other new cultural influences. As war and the impact of Franco’s regime persist, so does the use of flamenco to counter these and other tyrannies.

Noche Flamenca’s Antigona does a service to both flamenco and Greek tragedy. In marrying two of the most compatible and relevant performance genres, this adaptation conveys to a new audience the contradictions and warnings that Sophocles communicated thousands of years ago.