Flamenco originated as a form of oral history, in which Spanish gypsies combined song, dance, and music to tell their stories of joy and grief. That sense of narrative, of hearing a culture's deepest stories, is missing from many of the watered-down cabaret acts that call themselves flamenco. So what a pleasure it was to experience the real thing in "En Tablao," performed by Yaelisa & Caminos Flamencos at the Turquoise Cafe Bar Europa last weekend.

Yaelisa's name may be familiar to San Diego audiences, because she started Caminos Flamencos here in the early 1990's. Now a force in the San Francisco dance scene, she's not only a fine dancer but a savvy presenter. For this show, she recruited flamenco royalty, an all-Spanish ensemble that included guitarist Chuscales, singers Manuel de la Malena and Jesus Montoya, and dancer Juan Ogalla.

Yaelisa

The musicians aren't simply accompanists; rather, flamenco is a conversation in which the songs — the stories — come first. De la Malena has a deep, raw-vocal-cords voice perfect for cante jondo, the songs of loss, and Chuscales' guitar virtuosity reflects his ancestry from a grandmother who lived in the legendary caves of Sacromonte. When they and Ogalla performed a seguiriya, a cante jondo described as coming from the gut, it was one of those moments of theater when time feels suspended and you're held in the artists' hands.

In Ogalla's hands, especially. Born in Cadiz to a noted flamenco family, he started dancing at age 11. Now 32, Ogalla doesn't just dance flamenco; he is flamenco, all knife-sharp gestures and whiplash 180-degree turns. His feet drove into the floor with force and yet tremendous clarity, without a trace of mushiness in the sound. In thrilling contrast to that speed and power, however, there were also moments of stillness when he seemed to center all of the energy in the room.

Yaelisa, like Ogalla, has flamenco in her blood—her mother was a Spanish flamenco artist. Yaelisa was born and raised in San Francisco, however, rather than in Spanish gypsy culture, and that may be why her cante jondo dance, a solea, felt somewhat forced. She looked more at ease in a lighter cante chico, flirting with the musicians—and also with Ogalla, in a too-brief duet when they took their bows.

Part of the charm of "En Tablao" was the setting at the Turquoise Cafe Bar Europa. Owner Basilio Ceravolo took a former surfer bar called Kahuna's and created an intimate performance space, with the walls painted dark red and hung with paintings of flamenco dancers and, best of all, a good wooden floor that rang with the dancers' steps. It felt so European, you almost (but not quite) wanted people to light up cigarettes, just for the atmosphere.