Called Mil Besos, the monograph is a bold black and white volume of Afanador's photos of the senoras of Flamenco. But, it's about so much more. It's a book of women of a certain age that defy any temporal classification; of curvaceous forms overflowing lace garments; of veils and shoes; of dark lips and slick, shiny black makeup; of dancing and motion and emotion. While definitely far from chaste, the photos feel charming and charged with a sexuality that is liberating, never even slightly vulgar, although I have a feeling that in anyone else's hands they might have taken a tawdry turn. In front of Ruven's lens, the women are dignified. The feminine mystique, in all of its multi-faceted dynamism, is so vibrant on these pages. These are pictures of mothers, lovers, sisters, and performers who can manipulate your emotions with a furrow of their brow or a flick of their wrist. It's all about the posture for these ladies, but they aren't posturing at all. There is such authentic drama here. Okay, I'm defying the rule of letting the photos speak for themselves; here:
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