by Elizabeth S. Bennett

Flamenco’s Unexpected Jewish Roots

On a stormy March evening, plaintive and edgy “aye ayes” emerge from the throat of a female flamenco singer, beckoning the New York audience to attention. Leilah Broukhim, a dancer, first sits beside the singer and guitarist, clapping her palms to the punchy rhythms. Then, without an obvious cue, Broukhim rises to perform a 10-minute improvised flamenco dance, moving from one exacting pose to the next, punctuated by foot stomps, finger manipulations, skirt swooshes and head tosses. The three artists are completely dependent on each other for the energy and direction of their ensemble performance.

Continue reading this article…

Already a subscriber? Log in above to keep reading. Or subscribe now for immediate access to the complete digital and print editions, plus exclusive online access to Lilith's back issues.