Tentación…taste the forbidden fruit.

Cherie Boogart is dressed as a flamenco dancer: embroidered shawl, full red patterned skirt and high heel shoes.  Her strangely beguiling little show shouldn’t work, but somehow it does.  It takes the form of a series of confessions, beginning with that of a seven-year-old girl.  She has played a most disturbing game of kissy-chasey with a dark and tiger-eyed Spanish boy.   Yes, she let him catch her.  And she couldn’t help it, she said, ‘Kiss my arse!’  Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned!  But all things Spanish entered her soul: the language, the sound of the language and, most of all, the music.  The confessions continue as the little girl grows up, trying so hard to resist temptation, to be a good little girl and not even notice, let alone think about boys.  As she grows, the boys may not notice her behind the dowdy clothes and the braces on her teeth, but she notices them – more and more.  It’s overpowering, it’s overwhelming – who will win?  Jesus or the Devil?

It’s a not unfamiliar concept, but what makes it different is that the sweet but everyday confessions are counterpointed by songs – mostly in Spanish - of love and desire by such composers as Manuel de Falla, Rodrigo and Piazzolla.  Ms Boogart sings these songs so well that you don’t care about the words.  Her accompanist, Tommaso Pollio, matches her superbly with the intricate, percussive music.   But she also underlines the irony and undercuts the songs with a cheeky or a knowing smile.  Her rapport with the audience is striking.  The juxtaposition of the fiery passions of the songs with the banality of the confessions is the heart – or point – of the show as a show.  The real point may be Ms Boogart. 

That said, the show does have the feel of the try-out or work-in-progress.  We were handed a sort of ‘order of service’ program on the way in, but I don’t think what followed quite stuck to the text.  There are a few dance steps – flamenco, tango, as appropriate – that are just slightly uncertain.  There’s a bit of audience interaction that feels awkward and when she gets a bloke up on the stage, dresses him as a Mexican and gets him to throw sweets into the audience… Well, the show stops till that’s over.

Towards the end – when her little girl character has reached eighteen – she drops the shawl and steps out of the skirt – revealing very long legs and a very short skirt.  Bending over to pick up the shawl, she remarked, ‘Oh, maybe I shouldn’t bend over in this skirt… Or maybe I should.’  That got a laugh and it sounded unrehearsed - a spontaneous conversation with the audience – well, she was by then among friends.

The ‘concept’ may be contrived and most people won’t understand Spanish, but Ms Boogart gets away with it.  She really can sing, she has presence, she’s attractive in her own original way and she has a kind of teasing sexiness which takes the audience into her confidence.  And they seemed absolutely to love her.  As we filed out, I heard, ‘Isn’t she marvelous?  Oh, she’s wonderful!’  

Michael Brindley