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Destination Chicago: Flamenco and more in the Windy CityBy R. J. Uebersezig, Jr. [Editor's note: My thanks to RJ. I hope there will be more reports from flamenco scenes from all over. Afterwards, check out Marty's Jerez Diary (link below). If you have a report you'd like to be published here, email me, ] Thursday January 22, 2004 I have been fortunate enough to travel to many cities on business; however, I missed many opportunities to combine my responsibilities for employment and my love of flamenco. I was called to travel to Chicago, an amazing city that I had spent time in on previous travels…but what about the flamenco scene? I didn’t have a clue, and the few DC locals I asked were equally unaware. "Well, here’s an opportunity" I thought to myself. After contacting a few leads in the days leading up to my departure, I was on my way, en route with a dancer’s name, an address of a studio, and the phone number of a luthier. I arrived finally after a lengthy delay. All flights coming into the Windy City had been either cancelled or re-routed due to the snow that had hit the Midwest the day before. The city was covered in snow and the arctic air that blew off Lake Michigan caused the temperatures to drop down to 0, and left the wind chill factor at minus 25! "This is awful," I said to the agent at the rental car stand "Nobody is going to come out in this weather." "You'd be surprised," he replied "it's a lot different here, I'm sure" He was right, after checking into a downtown hotel, I set out to find the essentials to survive. The hat and gloves I brought were not suitable for the climate, and to my amazement, most people were on foot. It was apparent after looking at the prices for parking garages. In this town, if you are an owner of one of these structures, you’re wealthy! I was not interested in paying the $10 an hour fee, and drove back to the hotel. Once settled in at the Embassy Suites, I pulled out my laptop and began searching for anything in the immediate area, restaurants, theaters, and studios, anything connected to flamenco. I had three contacts that I brought from my search in DC, but I decided to save those since they were not downtown (I had emailed one contact prior to leaving DC, Angela, to let her know that I would be in town.)  I found listings for two tapas restaurants within walking distance, Emilio's Tapas and 1492 Tapas Bar. 1492 was closer but after reading reviews, I noticed that Emilio was hailed as the "King of Tapas" by the Chicago Tribune. This has to be interesting...I walked down a few streets according to my map, and found the restaurant, Emilio's Tapas, Sol Y Nieve. Upon entry, you are greeted with a friendly smile, and quickly ushered to a table. The walls have spectacular murals painted on them, with Emilio the owner, staring down upon you as you dine. Felipe, the waiter, arrived at my table, and brought bread, olives and Manchego cheese to snack on, and provided a very detailed, lengthy menu, and took my drink order. I quickly ordered and sat back. Noticing all the details of the restaurant, this was a very comfortable setting, and the soft sounds of solea coming from the stereo system made it even more enjoyable. 
The food arrived perfectly timed. I had ordered several tapas dishes, to make an adequate judgment. Each tasted better than the previous, and in the end I was indecisive as to which was my favorite. The Tribune was right, this was the best tapas I had ever tasted, and would recommend the restaurant with highest regards. After snapping a few photos, the hostess, Jenny came over and asked if I was doing a review. I explained to her about my connection to flamenco and on business travel, and she excused herself promptly. She returned within a few minutes with a few names of contacts in the area, two dancers, and a Rumba ensemble. One of the contacts was familiar, Angela. I thanked her and said my goodbyes, and headed back to the hotel. Once back, I made a few business calls, all the while thinking of how coincidental that I was given my contact names twice. I figured that I should get try to get in touch again.  I left a message on the Angela's answering machine and also sent an email to the dance studio, Danza Viva, letting them know I was in town and where I could find information on the flamenco scene. The next morning, I got up, called up Richard Brune’s guitar shop, left a message and checked my email. I was rewarded with a reply
I jumped with excitement, an opportunity to play for a dance class in a different city, and the instructor was my contact made it even MORE coincidental. A few hours later, I received a phone call from Angela, discussing what would take place at the class. At 5:00pm, I grabbed a quick bite, threw my guitar on my shoulder and headed out with the directions to the studio. This is where the adventure begins, a story that is too lengthy to put in print. Needless to say, after being lost, and driving through some tough neighborhoods, I arrived at the studio 20 minutes late, a little frustrated and nervous. I was greeted with the warmest welcome a stranger could receive. Angela met me at the door and announced to her students that I had come all the way from DC. The students all greeted and thanked me as I pulled out my guitar and prepared to play. This was their first class in bulerias, and they started off slow, learning the compas. Angela went around the room concentrating on each student, making sure they had a feel of the basic rhythm. As all the students clapped in unison, she began taking the students individually through a basic step walking across the floor, getting a feel of the palo. I was amazed, at how quickly they were learning! The lesson went on for an hour, and at the end, the students could perform a small choreography of bulerias, with confidence. "What did you think?" Angela asked. "I'm amazed," was all I could muster. With a huge grin, she walked out and brought the next class in. These were her adult students, who also gave a warm reception after learning I was from out of town. They were also starting a new form, solea, and with my previous phone call, I had explained to Angela might lack of knowledge in this form, which she assured me it would be ok. I had planned to only do palmas, but the class asked me to play…. YIKES! I didn’t have Miguelito there to help me out! I had learned a basic strum to help me get through the classes I had accompanied with him at ADI, but now it was different, I had to quickly recall what he had shown me. At first it was weak, but slowly got stronger as my confidence increased. I kept wondering which student would be the first to curl up on the floor; surely that same rhythm pattern played for an hour would put them all to sleep! After the class they thanked me and left. I was able to sit down and talk to Angela, and we swapped stories about our respective communities. Her knowledge of flamenco and exposure to the art was amazing, as she talked about growing up in Jerez, and performing in Chicago. I listened with intent, until it was time to close. I showed her the contacts I got from the restaurant, at which she laughed- she performs there, and also the rumba ensemble Alma Flamenca, which she also performs with. We said our goodbyes, and with a hug and directions back to the city, I was on my way back to the hotel. Thursday morning, I still hadn’t gotten in touch with Richard Brune, and was fearful that I would return without visiting his shop. I flew the next day, and this had been a high priority on my list. Marija and Steve had urged me to visit him, and research showed that Richard was regarded as one of the best luthiers. By noon, disappointment set in, and I went about my other tasks. Finally, around 3:00pm, I received a phone call message, to come over to the shop that Richard would be there until 7:00pm. 
I immediately jumped in the car and headed north to Evanston, where his shop has been located for the past 30 years. I walked into a museum. Richard greeted me, and began to bring out old guitars that were entombed in humidity-controlled glass cases that lined the wall. I played a Conde blanca he had for sale, along with some other guitars that were built here in the U.S. I kept inquiring on one of his guitars that he was selling, yet he shook his head and said there were none available to be shown. His waiting list is four years long, and he rarely has a used Brune returned to his shop. 
With that, he got up, and began bringing out his private collection, old Santos and Barberos, each having their own story. Richard knew the history on each of them, and handed me guitars previously played by Sabicas, Ramon Montoya, and Andre Segovia that either he had acquired or built, encouraging me to play them and see how they feel. I was swept away, and couldn’t process it all; each guitar I played brought an emotion that was indescribable. 
I spent over two hours in his shop talking about the guitars, the upcoming festival and the people he had met, and performed with. Richard is an incredible guitarist, and has played with many of the great performers of the past and present. He explained to me how the city itself has helped flamenco to flourish, that many of the flamenco concerts in the area are free to the public due to the funding of the City’s cultural affairs department. He also showed me how lengthy the festival is in Chicago, a whole month! He went on further to say how the local flamenco scene thrives, and can be found in small pockets. I thanked him and left to try and collect my thoughts. 
With the last evening in the city upon me, I had too many choices as for dinner. I decided to try The Pump Room, and then finish off at 1492 Tapas Bar. Once arriving to 1492, I was greeted at the bar by the manager, Victor Borras. He brought out an espresso, and answered all my questions regarding flamenco there in Chicago. He is originally from Barcelona, but travels instead to Madrid every few months for a weekend visit with his father. He further went on to explain how his restaurant is trying to bring in more flamenco shows, but that it's competitive. Flamenco is very popular. He excused himself, and put on a Sevillanas CD, and we both kept palmas, while we drank coffee and talked. 
We turned the conversation to the upcoming festival, and who was performing. By now, a gathering of curious patrons assembled as they asked questions about flamenco, where to travel in Spain, etc. Victor answered each question, all the while attending to his customers, and preparation for the next day’s business. Time flew by, and I realized that it was much later than I had believed. I had an early flight back to DC, and with a goodbye, I departed. So, how is the flamenco in Chicago? Thriving, flourishing, are just a few thoughts that come to mind. It is true, the city is a cultural depot, and flamenco is prominent amongst the jazz, blues, classical, etc. But more importantly than flamenco, the people themselves are worth the trip itself. Everyone that I came in contact with was so helpful, warm, and cheerful, that it saddened me to leave. However, learning that I’ll have to return next month has brought about excitement, of new people to meet and familiar faces to see. Flamenco is the common bind that these people share; individually they are what make flamenco so special to be a part of. -R.J. Uebersezig Jr. [Editor's note: if you wish to contact RJ, send him email at ] When in Rome...Between the flamenco and business meetings, I set out on foot to join other Chicagoans in their daily rituals. With so much available, I’ll only touch on a few establishments to be brief. Here’s what I found while on my travel: Shopping: Chicago is busting at the seams with department stores and shops. A visit to the Marshall Fields store, will amaze any visitor, with it’s seven (7) of retail articles to choose from. If you can’t find what you are looking for here, I doubt it exists. Michigan Avenue is famous for its Magnificent Mile. This is Chicago’s version of Rodeo Drive. Every exotic and department retailer is located within this mile stretch of the city. Everything from Cartier to Teuscher of Switzerland is within a brisk walk. Each Saturday (Jan-Feb) evening the Mile is lit up with firework celebrations and music for the public’s enjoyment. State Street also has many places to enjoy shopping, but being a guitarist, I was very much intrigued by the Music Mart. It was too much for the mind to process, and a threat to the wallet! I decided to make this a main stop each time I visit. Any sheet music, any instrument, any CD, you can find it here. Attractions: Known for its culture, Chicago has anything and everything for all to enjoy. If you like art, a visit to The Art Institute of Chicago is in order. I was fortunate to view the Manet exhibit, as well as works by the other masters. Picasso’s original The Old Guitarist is always on display here. The price for admission is reasonable, especially Tuesday’s, when all visitors are admitted free, thanks to the Ford Motor Corporation. Of course, it was only fitting for me to learn of this on my visit on Wednesday… day late, etc. If you enjoy performances in opera, music, or dance, your selection of theaters seems never ending. Asking around doesn’t help much because everyone seems to have their own favorites. However, all agreed that a trip to The Joan W. and Irving B. Harris Theater for Music and Dance is essential. I was not fortunate to attend a performance, but from the locals, this is “THE” place to go. Dining: This is where it gets tough- there are too many to list! Your best bet is, if you see a restaurant, try it- more than likely, it’s famous and serves excellent food. A trip to The Pump Room is a dining experience of a lifetime, the food is exquisite, and the restaurant houses top jazz performers. One quick look around, and you’ll find an infamous person at a nearby table. If you’re looking for a less formal, Chicago has it as well. Miller’s Pub is enjoyable, if even to look at the hundreds of autographed photos that adorn every inch of wall space. Their ribs and steaks are renowned, and can satisfy two people to a single order. If you like barbeque, try The Weber Grill Restaurant. Yes, this is the same company that sold your dad his backyard grill, and of course how else would they prepare food? The kitchen is open for the public to see, and each charcoal grill sits side by side along a wall, ventilated and a chef standing over it. Word to the wise, your eyes are larger than your stomach- monster size burgers and steaks. I wound up having to throw most of it away. -R.J. Uebersezig Jr. [Editor's note: if you enjoyed R.J.'s report, you'll want to check out Marty's Jerez Diary] |