Flamenco Festival at City Center, With Rafaela Carrasco Flamenco Festival Carmen Cortés in the solo "Soleá, un Son Eterno." Rafaela Carrasco and Olga Pericet were also featured in the festival's gala on Thursday at City Center. It was ladies" night at City Center on Thursday, when the Flamenco Festival 2012 held its gala. Rafaela Carrasco, Olga Pericet and Carmen Cortés, all eminent dancers from Spain, were the stars of the evening and its choreographers too. But the first feet to hit the floor were male. Rafaela Carrasco in "Cantinas," part of Flamenco Festival 2012 at City Center. That was how the program opened, with all the dancers - the three women alongside a supporting cast of four men - introducing themselves in a string of spotlighted solos. The ladies did not go first, and here, as in subsequent appearances, it was two of the male attendants, Pedro Córdoba and José Maldonado, who provided the most rhythmic surprises. It was also the men who handled Ms. Carrasco's underwhelming efforts in group choreography. In "Los Peregrinos" three men wove around one another ineffectually, taking turns holding a big red hat. "A Cuatro" capitalized more on the musical possibilities of ensemble work, but only in embryonic form. "Café de Chinitas" came to life simply by letting Mr. Córdoba and Mr. Maldonado try to top each other. These numbers spaced out the main events, the solo turns for the female stars. Ms. Carrasco's "Farruca" was the least traditional on the surface, a floor-scuffing dance in red boots to the accompaniment of a cello. Its structure, however, hewed to flamenco convention: a pause for applause did not mean the number was over. In "Cantiñas" Ms. Carrasco struggled with the long white train of her dress, but the ungainly effort was endearing, in accord with the breast-grabbing, spraddle-legged lustiness of her performance. Though the word "cantiñas" does not refer to a cantina, Ms. Carrasco might have been in one. Ms. Pericet was much more precise. Petite and imperious, she built her "Seguiriya" out of clear shapes and calculated patterns, covering a lot of ground and using soft finger snaps like seductive whispers. In "Abandolao" she was in full, frisky control of her long-trained dress and also of her castanets, yet she finished the dance in an attitude of submission, on her knees at the feet of the singer Miguel Ortega. Who wouldn't be overwhelmed by Mr. Ortega? Nothing in the show was stronger than his gale-force voice. Only Gema Caballero, in her vocal selection "Zorongo," matched it in passion. At one point Ms. Caballero's hands moved as if to pull out her guts. That's what it sounded like she was doing all along. Ms. Cortés, the eldest of the women, was entrusted with the position of honor, saved for last. In her "Soleá, un Son Eterno" she took her time, dropping her shawl, counting with her feet, working in bursts. She seemed to give all that she had and then find more to give. The audience rewarded her with its warmest ovation. There have been deeper soleás in years past. And more thrilling galas. Though the traditional fin-de-fiesta finale, with the entire cast gathered together and jamming, wasn't as spontaneous as some have been, it still pleased. Ms. Carrasco was at her best here, locking in on Ms. Caballero and dancing at her. Ms. Cortés dragged out a reluctant musician for a sexy little duet. It was the gesture of a queen.