Miguel Fernández “El Yiyo” is known for bringing tablao-trained immediacy into larger theatrical frames, and this festival appearance in A Mi Aire distills that approach into a family-driven format. Sharing the stage, El Yiyo proposes not a “star turn” but a relational design: dancers negotiating a common vocabulary while protecting their own phrasing and temperament.

The program is conceived as a suite. Each section establishes a different listening task. A solo can read as a study in concentration—how weight drops, how the torso suspends, how the feet articulate a line without rushing it. Duets then complicate the field: one body holds the musical contour while the other interrupts, echoes, or reframes it. In trio passages, the brothers build a rotating focus, trading presence and retreat so that the stage reads like a composed conversation rather than a competition.

Live music shapes the evening’s architecture. Instead of a fixed story, the dramaturgy emerges from the mechanics of ensemble: cueing, response, escalation, and release; moments of density followed by sudden spareness where sound and movement are stripped to essentials. The performance privileges craft over display—how family history can be heard through timing, how differences can coexist inside a shared form, and how dancing together becomes a way of thinking in motion: editing, arguing, agreeing.

For audiences, the pleasure is in watching decisions made in the moment—how a rhythmic idea is passed from one body to another, how stillness lands, and how the trio sustains tension without crowding the music.