Folkloriades

Castelmoron puts on a series of music and dance concerts every year ... called Folkloriades.

The performances showcase traditional music, costume and dance from various parts of the world. They are held over three nights in a large marquee tent on the rugby field near the centre of town.

We had tickets for Saturday night. Aperos were served on long trellis tables from 7pm. Drinks were accompanied by live music, a taste of what was to come.

For dinner, a plate of duck breast, chips and salad cost 9 euros. A bottle of wine was 5 euros.

The show started just after nine o'clock.

The first act was a Peruvian ensemble called Somos Romero Paiva. From their panpipe player came a thin, ethereal sound, haunting and evocative of the Andes. It was complemented by the charango, a kind of lute. When the tempo increased, the dancers, male and female, emerged from either side of the stage.

In brightly coloured costumes, they waved sticks, stamped their feet and shouted ecstatically. A flute produced a reedy and unwavering melody, punctuated only by shouting. It's repetitive phrasing was underpinned by driving percussion from a cajon, a box-like drum held between the legs and struck with the palms of the hands.

The next act was supposed to be an Armenian outfit called Anii, described on the flyer as a dynamic young folkloric group. But, as the MC explained, the ensemble had had visa issues and despite the intervention of the Castelmoron Mayor herself, they hadn't made it.

So their place was taken at late notice by a Tahitian act, who proved to be the hit of the night. Their singer spoke to the crowd in French. The first wave of dancers consisted of young women in grass skirts the colour of sunflowers, gold-yellow against smooth, milk-chocolate skin. On their heads sat elaborate creations that defied the tremors of their dance. They wooed the audience with seductive, quivering hips. In beguiling movements, they swayed like palm trees on a tropical beach.

Then the young men came out. They were also wearing grass skirts. The percussion increased to fever pitch. The women's bellies and hips went into over-drive, the men waved their arms frenetically. Their wild-eyed warrior steps reminded me of the Maori haka.

After an interval, it was time for the Mexicans, the Ballet folkloric de Tamaulipas. The musicians wore cowboy hats and the dancers were resplendent in folkloric costumes. The music featured high, plaintive singing and wistful violin. It reminded me of Bob Dylan's "Desire", an album of obvious Mexican influence ... particularly tracks such as "Romance in Durango", "Oh Sister" and "One More Cup of Coffee".

One of the Ballet's songs had obvious religious significance. The women, dressed in long white skirts and flowing black headscarves, were in two small groups on either side of the stage. They held candles and remained motionless. They appeared to be in mourning. The men danced in a series of choreographed half turns ... moving back and forth between the two groups. The men wore strange masks, grotesque and baleful. The music became more upbeat and a dozen pairs of boots began stomping in rhythmic unison on the wooden stage. This created a resounding, banging din that was as loud as it was impressive.

When the Mexicans were done, the Spanish came on. It was a Catalonian group called El Foment de la Sardana de Perpinya. Their performance was flamenco-style with foot-stamping and castanet dancing.

The show finished at half-past midnight. We had enjoyed more than three hours of first-class entertainment, for 7 euros each.

For such a small village, Castelmoron can be proud of hosting an event of such class and diversity.