Why do some Catalan music and theater artists, after making history on stage, become successful businessmen? La Trinca, that ingenious and ironic musical group, which triumphed in the eighties, created the audiovisual company Gestmusic. Joan Gràcia, partner and artistic director of Lío, the most modern cabaret in the world, emerged from the triad that formed El Tricicle, a theater group that entertained us intelligently for four decades. He accepted the challenge a decade ago, when the founder of Pachá, a well-known nightclub, proposed it to him.
Experience on stage and knowledge of the gears of a show are plus points when creating shows that reinvent the cabaret and circus tradition. El Lío is a different kind of party, where contortionists, singers, dancers and lifelong stars mingle in a sexier but less glamorous version than that of the cabarets in Paris.
Last summer I went to Lío de Eivissa. I liked. What was the formula? The sum of a magnificently chosen place, with spectacular views of Dalt Vila, quality performances, dinner, music and the joy of living. A current representation of the carpe diem of a lifetime, with a luxury display to create a magical moment and space.
This year the formula has been transferred to Palma. Creating different nightlife options in Mallorca is a good idea. We have too many litrona and all-inclusive tourists. Betting on elegance is not a bad alternative. The Ibizan model has been followed. The chosen place is once again a mythical nightclub for Mallorcans: the famous Tito's, emblematic for decades, renovated and modernized. The show has an identical scheme to the Ibizan one. Although Palma's numbers lack the filming and technical perfection of Eivissa, the result is the party of the night: a kingdom of lights, music and revelry.
Sometimes, in the midst of magic, chance leads us to abruptly touch the ground with our feet. It's like a plummet from the clouds to the scree. It happened like this: after the show we went out to a small terrace overlooking the promenade. The effervescence of confetti and champagne lingered. We drank the last gin and tonics. Next to us was a group of girls. They were petite, young, with ordinary faces. They weren't ugly, they weren't beautiful either. They spoke in a Spanish full of vulgar expressions. Surprise. Disbelief: they were the artists, the dancers of the show, the vedettes who had seduced us on stage with their beautiful bodies and spectacular clothes. The makeup and dresses had been removed. They could have brought slippers to walk around the house. They had lost Cinderella's glass slipper. They had stopped being inaccessible to become too close. They forgot the glamor in exchange for normality.
We didn't deserve to be there to remind us that it was all a big lie. We were still living under the effects of a spell when the rawness of reality hit us like a punch. Obvious thought: artists must maintain the deception until the last second. They must make us believe that the dream lasts. Please, no one leave the dressing rooms until the room is emptied. The show must end like night, slowly, behind the scenes. It must have the effects of a good champagne.
