I just moved to Arizona. I had a friend taking me around to her favorite bars, and we stumbled upon Crescent Ballroom. I was thrilled that we happened upon a flamenco performance, and my friend noted, «Hey! It’s flamenco! Isn’t that your thing?» Yeah. I was thrilled. I got up, standing against the wall about halfway to the back of the bar, and clapped and stomped. I immediately recognized their opening number as a buleria, and clapped the accompanying rhythm in perfect tempo with the performers. Then they went on to a tango, and I clapped the upbeat rhythm and shouted encouragement — «Olé! Eso es! A si se baile!» — to the beautiful dancers. Then they moved onto a slower solea, and I continued to clap alongside them. I knew the rhythms, I recognized the compas, and I followed the changing tempo and volume and what the dancers were doing to keep with their performance. Because in flamenco, that’s what you do. In flamenco, everyone jumps in and appreciates the art and music and dance. It’s kind of a communal thing — the performers are not separate and distant from their audience. It was then that a dancer comes literally running off the stage as the next number starts, and dashes towards me, and tells me to stop clapping. I was mortified and appalled. I’ve been dancing flamenco for 15 years. I’ve studied since I was 12, and performed in multiple venues, just like this group. I toured in Europe dancing flamenco for audiences upwards of 4000. And this woman had the gall to run down off the stage and tell me to stop clapping because it was«distracting» because she was«trying to listen to the guitarist» and they«know what they’re doing» and don’t need my help. Honey, please. I’ve been in many situations myself that were less than ideal. Loud bars and restaurants, music and food festivals — hell, I had a drunk woman come on stage and steal my castanets and start clicking them in the middle of my damn solea. Would I ever in a million years interrupt a performance and get off stage and ask a patron to stop clapping? No. Because that’s tacky as fuck. And when it’s someone that actually knows what they are doing?! Knows the rhythms, understands compas, understands contra tiempo, and was following traditional flamenco culture of being an active audience participant? You just look snotty and bitter. Because the fact is that if you are a flamenco dancer with an ounce of talent, you can dance perfectly fine and keep your own compas no matter what’s going on in the audience. And this troupe was supremely talented, so it wasn’t that I was truly throwing them off. Especially because the speakers were right next to them — if I can hear the guitarist, so can they. I didn’t do anything that stood out as distracting or wrong. I was a supportive audience member that clapped the exact same rhythms as the dancers, and recognized the changes of tempo by listening to the guitarist. I did palmas sordas during the quieter parts, and palmas fuertes during the footwork to keep the dancer on beat. I wasn’t distracting enough to truly detract from the show. They were talented and held their own. We could hear their palmas just fine. What is comes down to is that they wanted all eyes on them and couldn’t stand that there was some random girl in the audience that also knew flamenco. Furthermore, if they really don’t want someone clapping, there were more professional ways of handling it. They motioned their manager person who was standing next to me a couple of times to come up on the stage next to them and adjust their sound(which I recognize in retrospect as an attempt to turn up the guitarist and drown me out) and why they couldn’t have asked him to subtly ask me to stop clapping is beyond me. Apparently they would rather interrupt their show and come off the stage and embarrass someone. So, fuck that. My also Midwestern-raised friend turned to me and said, «Did she seriously just come down here and scold you in front of everyone? Welcome to Arizona snobbery.» I love flamenco but I will make sure to support any group out there before I will support this one again.