On television, on the net, on the stage and on the plaza, we dancers are devoured. I fear that television will be turned on, because that crooked mirror has the ability to show our shame. It's useless to make the ostrich paper; "Put the TV! You see what dances!” And believing that I'm a little obedient, through the same channel comes a video of a dance that will kill my heart only when I see myself. “We cannot deceive ourselves, this simplicity is us,” Makagorri sang to us in the pastoral Bider. But, is it perceived in the performance of the dancers the touch of modesty of Joxemiel Bidor?

The chin is well raised and the chest is completely swollen. The awareness of the body had become the ostentation of the ego, the precision of the movement had become fuzzy. As they lift their arms for the dance, the dancers show the shame of the bullfighter by throwing them to the ground. We draw with our feet on the ground, with the transcendence of those who write severe poems with flowery calligraphy, unable to fit in the shirt, dancing as if we were counting emotions from beauty.

Juan Inazio Iztueta saw a driver dance. The unschooled peasant danced the Billanzi. As a sign of his skill and wisdom in the dance, he danced sixteen variants of the same dance. I guess he'd inflate his chest to take hold of his heart, which wouldn't swell his lungs to make his chest prick. I imagine the peasant of Urnieta dancing like she did in the azada, with a strong kick, just with decorations, a little with gestures.

Simple dance has not been just a virtue of the baserritars. The dance masters of the capital lords would severely punish the pompous style. Sevillian dance teacher Juan Esquivel Navarro wrote that hypocrisy obscures the skill of the dancer. He said that the body should dance “without artifact, lax, as it takes in the street” because “hypocrisy and pride worsen everything well done”.

The vaccine, the sting to pierce the inflammation, is distributed by Juan Antonio Urbeltz Navarro: “Dance as you play the ball.” Aesthetic lesson of Basque dance in six words. The dance teacher fills us with the backpack of stones to lower the feet of the swollen dancers to the ground. Dancing like a ball requires a real dance, without simulating, without pretensions, without pretending. The ball must be given force, speed and precision, avoiding the gestures of beautification of the movement, avoiding demonstrations of self-indulgence.

It's about stopping pretending we're dancing and dancing.