I can’t seem to decide whether my generation is a lucky or unlucky one.

For decades now, culture has known few boundaries of space, time and nationality. It seems that gone are the days when going to Turkey was considered exotic; when you had to travel far and wide to try different cuisines; the days when a few minutes’ flight to Sicily made you feel like you were on a whole new planet.

We are no longer encapsulated in our own little world and, because of that, some of us have lost the ability to be struck and awe-inspired by that which to us, geographically speaking, should be alien.

Isla , part of this year’s Malta Arts Festival, however, managed to do something not many a performance can achieve: it moved an audience to willingly interact and emotionally engage, all while singing in Spanish and performing a dance that has few, if any, obvious cultural connections to Malta.

Yet, as the conglomeration of multi-talented artists making up the Puerto Flamenco team explored the themes of the concept of an island and individuality, they created a dialogue between each other that seemed to draw in everyone who was present.

Under the direction of Malta-born Francesca La Chica Grima, the production was brilliant in every sense. The space available to them – the new, outdoor opera house – was used to the full, and framed the actual flamenco performances perfectly. The dynamics of the set were changed repeatedly, simply by a change in lighting to set a new mood, or in the way the performers stood in relation to the main performer of the piece.

Often, it felt as if the stage had turned into some remote square of some forsaken village in which a group of people had coincidentally bumped into each other and unexpectedly created something beautiful. It wasn’t that they were just dancing and singing in a folkloristic manner in a theatre, it was much more intimate; it was like the cluster of neighbours had met up on a warm summer’s eve to relate stories of days gone by.

I’ll be honest: it was the festival guidebook that lent a hand in explaining the themes being tackled, and I was glad I had read it.

As the flawless Encarnita Anillo lamented in the language of flamenco, Spanish, it was hard to get the gist of what she was singing about.

Yet, she still managed to evoke emotion. I continually found myself feeling angry or hopeful or excited; and I repeatedly created stories in my head about what I thought was happening. I’ve been to many performances that were very two-dimensional and had no depth; Isla was definitely not one of them.

The show combined tradition with modernity; it enticed an audience through sounds rather than words, and dance rather than defined actions

Beyond that, La Chica’s, Antoñete’s and Abel Harana’s, sublime renditions were complemented immaculately by Anillo’s unwavering voice, as well as by Rubén Romero’s guitar and Andrej Vujicic’s percussion.

It genuinely didn’t matter whether the audience understood the themes that reverberated throughout, because the physicality of it triggered the imagination.

It was enough to create new realities while recreating that which had, so obviously, been rehearsed to perfection.

Although it breaks my heart to have to say this, I found myself being drawn more to Patricio Hidalgo’s on-the-spot live creation of the backdrops, than to the actual flamenco. More than once, I caught myself analysing the meaning of that which Hidalgo had crafted, instead of appreciating the performance as a whole.

It is genuinely a shame, because it did supplement the performance, but there were times when it threatened to overshadow some of the performers. Notwithstanding that, I would love to see a whole show dedicated to Hidalgo’s art; kudos must be given to the Puerto Flamenco team for using so many different media that, on the whole, flowed almost seamlessly.

In fact, it is virtually impossible to pinpoint what the best feature was, as every detail was given attention, especially the costumes. As the lights were dimmed, La Chica kicked off the show in a giant, full-circle skirt, created by Pili Cordero, Ana Choi and Maria Pisani. The skirt covered the circular platform which was later to be used as the main performing space. Although it was the most bombastic of the costumes, it set the tone for what was to come, and each performer wore modern adaptations of traditional flamenco attire throughout. It is in these choices, I believe, that Puerto Flamenco’s true talent was demonstrated.

As a performance, the show combined tradition with modernity; it enticed an audience through sounds rather than words, and dance rather than defined actions; it took something which is traditionally foreign and made it local. So impressed was the audience, that the final part of the performance in which every member of the Seville-based company was involved, paved the way to a standing ovation.

In some ways, it almost felt like a breakup between the audience and the cast; as closure to a roller-coaster ride of emotions that disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced. What’s undeniable is that, once again, Puerto Flamenco have proven themselves to be masters of their trade.