THE END OF THIS STATE OF THINGS, REDUX

This piece's title alludes to life and death, to the myths and prophecies contained in the Apocalypses. It's also a sort of tribute to the special edition of Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now.

On stage, Galván shows off his most ground-breaking and daring side. Beside him are: flamenco singers, the group Orthodox, a video with images that tell the story of the war in Lebanon, seguiriyas, a violinist, electric guitars and a coffin.

The piece evokes the cradle and the grave in Galván's own language, which is at once traditional and avant-garde. His singular language has garnered applause from critics and audiences in countries such as Finland, France, Germany, Portugal, Korea, the United States and Greece, among others.

This personal journey through the Apocalypse has flamenco as its base, but is also influenced by Japanese butoh and the Italian Tarantella. It's all a question of reading the text, interpreting it as only the body of a flamenco dancer can, embodying its each and every letter, verse and phrase. Because, according to Galván, there's something about flamenco, certain manners, certain tools that teach us survival techniques we can use to confront all sorts of heartache and just about any catastrophe.