When Legend and Stage Meet: "Nuredduna" Enchants Can Gats

An evening when the neighbours bring the performance with them

The lanterns in Llucmajor gave off a warm yellow, the sea was a distant breath, and the scent of ripe oranges hung in the air – so began the evening in the small hall of Can Gats. The murmuring before the start sounded like a neighbourly prelude: the rustle of a jacket, the brief reproach to the late bus driver, the laughter about the statue on the town beach. Then the lights were dimmed, and Nuredduna began.

Already in the first bars it became clear why this project works: Magí Garcías did not want to consign the music to a museum. He mixes folk motifs with modern arrangements so that a melody can sound like a conversation under olive trees and the next moment crash like surf against a cliff. That keeps the legend fresh without cutting its roots.

Strong voices, quiet intimacy

In the title role Pamina Lenn convinced with a voice that was both vulnerable and determined. No flashy effects, rather a presence that came entirely from within and made the characters feel human. Tim Al-Windawe played the warrior with a warm, rough tone – steady, like wood that has long soaked up the sun. The two on stage found a tender but genuine balance; there was no grandiose pathos, but a careful coming together that reached the audience.

The direction and the German translation did the rest: old verses remained comprehensible and alive, no one felt like they were visiting an archive. At the right moments the hall laughed, at others it held its breath. The final applause was long and sincere – not routine clapping, but gratitude for retelling the island story anew.

Why this is more than just an evening for Mallorca

The small theatre experience in Llucmajor shows something essential: culture on the island lives from closeness. When tradition is not presented as a dusty relic but prepared in a way that young people, retirees and the neighbour with the shopping bag can relate to, community is created. Such evenings keep the cultural infrastructure stable – far more than a one-off event for tourists.

And it is an invitation to the island community: come together, listen to a story, discuss afterwards about the statue on the beach, the musician, the melody that won't leave your head. Theatre here becomes a social hub, a place where everyday life and legend meet – accompanied by the distant honk of a bus and the clink of an espresso cup on the plaza.

The root of the tale remains palpable

The starting point is an epic island tale with themes of rescue, loss and a forgotten lyre that functions as a symbol. Yet the ensemble has retuned the phrases: the poetry remains, the tones carry the story into the present. This shows that old tales need not be rigid, but can connect with new sounds and perspectives.

After the curtain I stood on the plaza, drank a quick espresso and heard two young people speculating whether the Nuredduna statue really does take a walk on the beach at night. Such images linger. Theatre in a small town lives from these little everyday scenes – the rustle of a jacket, the soft murmur, the shared laughter.

Tip: If you come to Llucmajor: plan some time before the performance. An espresso on the plaza, a chat with the neighbour, and maybe you'll still catch the last bus. The performance itself is a warm, small gift to the island community – and to everyone curious about stories that continue to live on.