Goyo Montero: Who is the Spanish choreographer making his debut at the Teatro Colón?

The Colón Ballet, directed by Julio Bocca since late 2024, presents its second season. It consists of a program of three works created by different authors and with very different characteristics: Por vos muero , inspired by the music and dances of the Spanish Baroque, is a true gem by contemporary choreographer Nacho Duato that the company has had in its repertoire since 2016; Paquita , by Marius Petipa, a leap into the 19th century with a scene that survived from the complete ballet premiered in 1881. The current revival is by Luis Ortigoza.

And finally, Chacona , by another contemporary Spanish choreographer, Goyo Montero, who is staging a work at the Teatro Colón for the first time; it's also his first visit to Argentina, and he's the subject of the following interview: “I had staged Chacona with the Sodre Ballet of Montevideo, under the direction of Julio Bocca, and I was on the verge of coming here several times. I had something pending: to get to know the city and work in this historic theater, like La Scala in Milan, the San Carlo in Naples, the Opera House in London; temples of dance and culture. The Colón was one of the landmarks I wanted on my resume,” he notes in an interview with Revista Ñ .

–I had created some pieces when I was still a principal dancer at the Berlin Opera, and in 2003 the Spanish Ministry of Culture commissioned a work for Spanish artists, seven soloists who danced in major companies around the world. I chose music by Bach and it was called The Communicating Vessels . It was my first full-evening work, and the Chaconne was the closing piece; that is, the final section, orchestrated for violin, guitar, and piano. For me, it's like a cathedral.

–In Bach, that's how I understand it, everything begins and ends. I always return to him to cleanse and reinvent myself. His music has the golden ratio: great emotion and great perfection; a precise mathematical construction that seems improvised. Something similar also happens in dance: hard daily work to achieve perfection so that, once on stage, you forget the rules and let yourself go.

–Was Bach’s music your main inspiration?

–Yes, and after that creation for the Spanish dancers, I recreated Chaconne for my own company, the Nuremberg Ballet. There were 16 performers, and it's the version I'm staging with the Ballet del Colón. I took the last part of The Communicating Vessels , based on Partita No. 2; something unfathomable, untouchable, but which I daringly dared to do. And even though Chaconne was only the final section of the 2003 work, it has an autonomous entity.

–Going back to the original choreography, what did the title refer to?

–I'm a big fan of surrealism, and a famous book by André Breton is called Communicating Vessels . That's also where my inspiration came from. In a dance company, and within the diversity of its members, there's a unity, different parts that come together to form a whole. Chaconne also speaks to that: a very strong group identity, but in which we also see the personality of each performer. There are small solo moments, but the challenge is to feel part of a unity at the same time.

– Is music generally what inspires you most as a choreographer?

–Music is like a pond I always want to dive into. But I'm also interested in literature as a source: I have a Romeo and Juliet , which is Shakespearean, and also Prokofiev. I did a version of Herman Hesse's Steppenwolf and Don Quixote, but the one from the book, not the 19th-century ballet. And Cyrano de Bergerac , The Nutcracker , and Cinderella . Although a painting or a poem can also inspire me.

–I love poetry. Since I was little, I wanted to write, not dance (note: his parents, Rosa Naranjo and Goyo Montero, were prominent figures in Spanish dance). I was an introverted child who read and read. On the other hand, I would include my own life, disappointments, dramas, and my experience as a parent as sources for my works. I have an eleven-year-old son who has taught me how to be a child again.

–Your parents held an important place in the field of Spanish dance. However, you gravitated from the beginning toward classical ballet, which lacks a tradition in Spain.

–During that eclectic era, my parents were great admirers of ballet technique and worked as classical dancers in Germany and South Africa. From a young age, I found myself immersed in that world. But on the other hand, my father—and we have the same name—was a flamenco star, and I wanted to differentiate myself a bit. This unfortunately led me to leave Spain because there are few ballet companies there. I lived and danced in London, Havana, and Germany.

– How did the transition from performer to creator occur?

–Thanks to my contact with contemporary choreographers and my search for my own language. The vocabulary of classical ballet, which seems perfect to me as it is, wasn't enough for me to express something of my own. After working with Hans van Manen, Mats Ek, Jiri Kylian, and William Forsythe, who staged works for the Berlin Opera Ballet—this company has a vast repertoire, both classical and neoclassical, as well as contemporary—I realized that when it came to expressing myself, I wanted to do it for myself. At that point, I wasn't interested in dancing anymore; it was like a calling. My parents were very scared.

–They said, “What are you doing stopping dancing at 30?” But I took that risk and began the transition. I was then given the position of director of the Nuremberg Ballet, and I’ve been there for 17 years.

–When you felt what you call “the call,” were you influenced by the choreographers you mentioned earlier? By Jiri Kylan, for example, who is…

–(Smiles) A ​​god. I think we all start out copying a little. I have no training as a contemporary dancer beyond interpreting contemporary choreography. But I feel I've been influenced by Balanchine and Forsythe, Mats Ek's storytelling styles, also Maguy Marin and Pina Bausch. And from these influences, I began to find my vocabulary, which has changed a lot over time. My current pieces don't have much to do with this "Chaconne," even though they are a development of that language.

–A week before the premiere, what would you say is the most important thing the Colón dancers have learned about Chaconne ?

–That they know all the information behind the work. That they understand the communication between them and the musicians, who are also on stage; that each instrument gives a certain kind of sensation: the violin is like a scalpel, cold and austere. The guitar is warmer, more human. And the piano, with its percussive character, is like a final affirmation: “We are here, and we know why we are here.” Bach's music is simultaneously secular and religious. It has a certain coldness and distance, but the underlying theme is very moving. I would like the dancers to approach the music in this way.

*The mixed program will be seen over ten performances, between May 29 and June 8, at the Teatro Colón.