by Thomas Ackerman

It might seem strange that a rocker from Holland and an army brat from Comanche, Texas, came together to help bring Spanish flamenco to Austin. But in this city, where punk rock bands play next door to blues bars, such a cultural frenzy is not so out of place. Hollander Teye has traveled much of Europe with his guitar, and made new homes in Spain -- the country and culture which he loves -- as well as the United States. Ciril Statem, native Texan and former music director for KLBJ, has performed a range of music including reggae, rock, mariachi, blues, and, in the past year, flamenco guitar. Together, and with a host of talented dancers led by Pepa Martinez, they form Teye and Viva Flamenco.

For the first time, Austin does not need to wait for touring road shows like Jose Greco's to come around. Spanish music lovers, as well as the curious and uninitiated, can see their energetic performances several times a week for little or no cover charge. It is enough of a rarity to have this opportunity to see trained musicians and dancers every week in a small and intimate setting, but it is rarer still that such a shotgun project has met such immediate local success.

Viva Flamenco did not even have its final member -- Ciril Statem -- until three days before their first performance at Miguel's La Bodega downtown. Nor had they all rehearsed together. But on April 1sth of this year, Viva Flamenco began their permanent Tuesday evening spot before what would turn out to be an enthusiastic and growing audience. The next month, Ciril began a booking spree and they had 27 shows -- a perfect opportunity to tighten and perfect their act. With the summer at a close, enthusiasts can now see them on stage at the Continental Club, the Iron Cactus, and Speakeasy, not to mention their original Miguel's show, which is billed as "every Tuesday until the end of time."

Such spontenaity, not to mention intensity, is part of what both Teye and Ciril fell in love with about the culture of the Gypsies, the Flamenco, and Southern Spain. For Teye, the people of Northern Europe were annoyingly work-oriented. When he showed up in Spain in 1983, his third and fateful trip there, he had already dyed his blond hair black, spent much of his time in hard rock bands, and knew some formal classical technique as well.

But in Spain, where his new Gypsy friends dubbed him El Gitano Punky, Teye discovered the modern Gypsy style of flamenco embodied in the warmth and humor of its innnovators. "They know how to enjoy life in Spain," explains Teye. "You take five Gypsies who have 75 dollars between them, and they still have a great time. They know how to stretch it out. They know how to make the most of everything they do."

This spirit, not to mention a love for the infectuous rhythms and discordant tones of Gypsy music, was enough for Teye to make Spain his semi-permanent home. For Ciril Statem the same spirit drove him, a year after first picking up a flamenco guitar, to learn enough to perform on stage with the more experienced Teye, whom he had met through mutual friend Joe Ely. Teye had accompanied Ely's band and recorded a number of tracks with him, including "Run Preciosa" from Letters to Laredo. When Eli introduced the two, the musicians immediately became friends, and the curious Ciril began to pick up new chords and song structures, switching from steel strings to the more expressive nylon of the flamenco guitar.

Ciril remembers: "I had to forget everything I knew about guitar. I had to start from scratch." This meant mastering difficult right-hand techniques and learning rhythms which confound most Western ears. In the past year, Ciril has played little else. But not only has he relearned the guitar, Ciril has also played a large part in the group's success, introducing their music to local bar and restaurant owners who are, more often than not, unfamiliar with flamenco. "I tell them it's unique," he says, "and once they hear the music, they know that it is. They usually invite us to perform pretty quick."

So far, Austin has given the newly arrived Viva Flamenco an enthusiastic welcome. When Teye first visited the city nearly 12 years ago, it was a place he knew he'd be back to. "Spain has the soul," he explains, "but Austin has something too. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's the openness. Maybe it's the freedom." This openness and freedom has even seen the group booked in dance halls like Dance Across Texas. The initial skepticism of bar owners is quickly turned on its head after the first performance. "We don't fit anywhere," says Ciril, commenting on the mix of unfamiliarity and interest, "but we fit everywhere."

If Austin has come to be known as the musical capitol of America, it is only right that it gives home to Spanish music, which influenced many of the Latin songs and dances that have become popular here. From its centuries-old Indian and Arab influences to its emergence in Southern Spain with the arrival of the Gypsies, cultural collage has always been part of flamenco's history. Its mix of song (cante), dance (baille), guitar playing (toque), and percussion (jaleo) include everything from partner dances to solo improvisations to story-telling. More recently, flamenco has been mixed with jazz and other styles, much to the dismay of purists, and has even spawned pop flamenco groups, which rival rock and roll in their simplification a richer tradition.

While American audiences are usually unfamiliar with flamenco, enjoying the music does not require a trip to Spain or long music lessons. The songs have an intensity and energy that are striking to anyone who listens. The music ranges from playful to melancholy to overwhelming, and the clapping of hands and stomping of feet command strong responses from anyone who listens.

Viva Flamenco, although they have yet to find a singer, draw from the other three traditions of dance, guitar, and percussion. Teye and Ciril both provide guitar songs and guitar accompaniment for the dancers. Belen Olivia and Pepa Martinez, when they are not dancing, provide percussion for the two guitarists, banging on a box and clapping. The other dancers join in this as well.

Only about one piece per evening is strictly traditional flamenco, however. Much of the music is from the modern Gypsy tradition, using falsettas (lead melodies) and variations which are passed around between flamenco troupes, and nearly half the music is written by Teye himself. "Flamenco is living, breathing, growing changing," says Ciril. "We try to be in-your-face with it." This attitude is not just evident in the group's love for modern flamenco; at a recent show, Teye pulled out an electric guitar and played a furiously paced solo, distortion and all. The audience may have been surprised, but they were no less appreciative.

That is not to say that Viva Flamenco's performances defy tradition. The sounds and images most of us carry around in our heads when we hear the word "flamenco" will all make their appearances: fiery music, bright polka-dot dresses, women making hypnotic gestures with their hands and kicking up their skirts. But in seeing the actual performance, the American impressions do not do flamenco justice. The music can be as subtle as it is passionate, and as carefree as it is profound. Much of flamenco is also improvisational, so in taking in your first show -- and your tenth and your twentieth, for that matter -- you never know exactly what to expect.

This is especially true of the dancers of Viva Flamenco -- Pepa Martinez, Theresa Goldbach, Sheila McPherson, Genevive Gwinn, Belen Oliva, and Elia Martinez -- all of whom studied at this city's own Flamenco Austin. While they use many similar steps and gestures in their improvisations, each brings to the stage a strong personality and a unique response to the compas (rhythm) and to the music.

This is something you will notice after even one show. Their performances prove flamenco's true range: sensuous, pensive, angry, joyful, melancholy, playful -- every adjective except dainty. There is also a certain give and take between the guitarists and the dancers. While the dancers are sensitive to the flavorful turns the music takes, the musicians are always conscious of where the dancer is going with the piece and whether she wishes to continue. As long as they feel the rhythm and structure of the piece, they are free to fill in the blanks.

It is difficult not to see the similarities between the performers of Viva Flamenco and their music. They both carry a wealth of cultural traditions, from flamenco's roots across Europe and the Middle East to the wealth of classical and modern styles the two guitarists have picked up. It is appropriate, also, for Austin to finally have the opportunity to hear such a collection of interrelated songs. Of all the cities in Texas, Austin has been the most willing to appreciate new perspectives, not to mention any behavior that is not quite the norm. Considering that Teye describes flamenco life as being "in disdain of materialist culture," it is about time Austin joins San Antonio in celebrating this heritage, which carries blatant similarities to common Austin lifestyles.

But right now the growth of flamenco in Austin lies largely on the shoulders of Viva Flamenco. They have no competition, and they will be the first glimpse of this music for many Texans. So far, they are meeting this responsibility, and the possibility of larger success, head-on. They have a project in the works for a stage show, are looking to bring in some male dancers and a singer, and have already put together a video for VH-1. Teye and Ciril still work and record with their old friend Joe Ely, whom both describe as a prince, and the possibility of a European tour is on the horizon.

Until then, Teye and Viva Flamenco are much-needed locals, making sure too many people don't call their art "flamingo." The Miguel's show is still going strong, and a regular show at Continental is taking them to South Austin. Other upcoming shows include and early evening show at Central Market on September 20. In just over four months, flamenco has begun to take its place beside the blues, reggae and swing of Austin clubs, leaving the rocker from Holland and the Texas DJ to see where else it can take root.