Afanador’s photographs, taken in sessions in Andalusian Spain, are translated by Marcos into movement, the style of which is a clear-cut and loving blend of traditional Spanish dance and Morau’s own signature personal style. The black-and-white photos featured in Afanador’s books also provide inspiration for the color scheme of the scenography (designed by Max Glaenzel), lighting (by Bernat Jansà), and costumes (designed by Silvia Delagneau). There are aural references as well — composer Juan Cristóbal Saavedra’s electronic and percussive music utilizes bells, Easter drums and songs, and flamenco guitars and voices to evoke the spirit of Andalusia.

Dramaturgically, Afanador shines as another example of Marcos Morau’s singular and unique voice. In an accompanying text for this piece, he writes: “If the elements of tradition are reassuring by definition, what happens when they become strange and unrecognisable? . . . . I would like people to come to see us in that frame of mind, as in certain dreams where we recognise places, people and landscapes – and without understanding the specific events, we know that they are really about us.”

We as an audience may not be able to answer Morau’s questions about what happens when the elements of tradition become anything but traditional. But we can certainly reap the benefits of his brilliant investigations — such as in this work, where we enter one of Marcos’s invented new worlds: a dreamy escape into the somehow-familiar landscape that is Afanador.