This one-act psychological thriller
starts up with a video confession from an on-stage
projector. What is chilling is the matter-of-fact way Ramon
(Antonio Delli), in a full-faced close-up, tells us in a
hushed voice, how he killed an old woman. “….I feel no
remorse, not the slightest feeling of guilt. Nothing…..I
strangled her…..She was old and couldn’t defend herself.”
Immediately, we are lured into an
existentialist world, reminiscent of French
novelist/playwright Albert Camus’ The Stranger (L’Etranger),
whose protagonist irrationally kills and confesses to
feeling no personal responsibility for any actions in his
life. By contrast, in Killing Words, just what does
Ramon intend to do with the ex-wife, whom he claims to have
once madly loved? He addresses her with his poetry spoken
like a true schizophrenic: “Cruel love, listen,/for you,
my body trembles,/…You and I play together/in forgotten
fields,/you and I hear voices/that nobody hears anymore…..”
Venezuelan Elba Escobar is
well-known to Teatro de la Luna audiences from former
festivals. In 2010, Escobar performed her one-woman hit,
My Husband is a Cuckold/Mi Marido es un Cornudo.And last year, in 2011, she directed Relatos
Borrachos/Tales Told Under the Influence, about people
who drink too much.
This was my first experience with Teatro
de la Luna, which now celebrates its 15th year, and after
tonight’s stunning performance by Noelia Fernández and
Esther Aja in Cartas de las Golondrinas (Letters from the
Swallows), I will absolutely return. Impressively written
and directed by Blanca del Barrio, this original piece was
creative, thought-provoking, emotional, and completely
relatable.
History always repeats itself. We’ve heard this phrase time
and time again. Cartas de las Golondrinas (Letters from the
Swallows) explores the deep-rooted meaning of this phrase
and what it means to be “American.” The story is based on
personal correspondence between Spanish emigrants and their
families from countries such as Argentina and Uruguay.
Letters and papers are a prominent part of this performance
piece that skillfully merges dance and acting in
storytelling.
We enter Gunston Theater Two, and our eyes are immediately
drawn onstage to where a long white dress, stretched out
like a tight sheet, extends well onto the floor from the
thin body of a gorgeous brunette with long wavy hair. Soon,
images of life are projected onto it: rippling water, men
and women of the early 1900s are dressed for travel with
luggage in hand, waving goodbyes, kissing for the last time;
a sweet little girl kisses her hands gently, releases them,
and tiny, torn pieces of paper float out as birds flock
around her. All the while, we are immersed in the sound of
waves, instrumental music with a clean, pure voice singing
soulfully as soft light illuminates the action. We have
arrived.
The bright sound and music adaptation of Oscar Sisniega with
the gorgeous lighting design by Pancho V. Saro and the crisp
audiovisuals of BurbujaFilms are crucial in helping us as
audience members understand where we are in the story. These
aspects are crucial to the tone and expression of the piece,
as the instrumental music comes in at times and swells and
decrescendos during important moments in the piece, and the
lighting changes from soft spot during letter-reading to
bright light that illuminates the theater during a welcomed
4th wall surprise not to be spoiled by this writer.
This one-of-a-kind experience masterfully merges fluid,
sharp, and rhythmic dance with acting in a black box
setting. Vintage luggage and traditional costume pieces help
the audience understand what time-period we’re in, with
costume design by Noemí Fernández. The set design and
construction by Juan I. Goitia is particularly clever, as
four wooden tables with multi-functional parts are lithely
morphed by Fernández and Aja into the specific places they
are in throughout the play, such as the boat, sleeping
quarters, a long table where they eat simply using spoons
and plates and making the most rhythmic sounds of
expression, their place of work, among others.
The use of levels keeps our interest and peaks the intensity
in each scene, whether it’s with the performers using the
floor, sitting at or on the tables, stacking them, and even
standing on top of them. Executive direction by Esther
Velategui gives us the overall feeling of where we are in
time and space when all these elements work together in
perfect harmony, as they do for the entire 75 minutes we’re
engaged in this world.
Fernández and Aja are fully committed to each movement and
action, and generate energy that radiates throughout the
entire theater as the stories unfold through their eyes.
They have excellent comedic timing as they giggle together
and tease each other in one of my favorite scenes that takes
place on the ship, where they are reading letters and making
promises. A friendship is built and they look at the stars
together, eat together, and gossip about their future in
America.
The connection of these artists to each other is very
strong, as they always moved with conviction during the
choreography, suspending their bodies with strength and in
perfect unison. They did a very fine job offering contrast
for each other as well when necessary, as in the
mother-daughter scenes. With the wide variety of characters
they portray, these women really know how to communicate the
important storyline and we as an audience want to be
involved.
Cartas de las Golondrinas (Letters from the Swallows) is a
powerful, uplifting performance piece about humanity that is
not to be missed.
The play's title is
allegorical. Emigrants, like the migratory birds, the
swallows, move away from their native birthplace and carry
within a deep instinctive longing for their homeland. And
immigration is an endless cycle because history repeats
itself.
Spanish playwright Blanca
del Barrio, who also directs Cartas de las Golondrinas
(Letters From the Swallows), was an assistant to Marcel
Marceau for 18 years. Influenced by her teacher, who was the
master-of-mime-dramas, Del Barrio is a trail blazer. She
combines a wildly imaginative staging style, a mix of mime
and music with balletic dance sequences and visual media, to
stage this surprisingly fresh, thank-you-letter to the
world.
What is truly amazing is
the way Del Barrio brings to life a random collection of
letters relating to deeply personal experiences. Letters,
dating from the 1911 to 1939, tell stories about the
hardships and triumphs of traveling from the old country to
a new world, in countries like Argentina, Uruguay, Chile, or
the United States.
“My Lord, why have you
abandoned me?” cries Jesus, his last words from his heart
that rock our souls without deadening our ears. Argentine
actor, the gifted Mariano Mazzei as Jesus, looks directly at
us from the cross, and into our souls with penetrating eyes.
And in playwright Mariano Moro’s stunning poetic outpouring
in Jesucristo, the character of Jesus transforms
from a down-to-earth common man to an other worldly Christ
whose ideas live on.
In last year’s 14th Teatro de la Luna
International Hispanic Theater Festival, we remember Mazzei
as an equally sensitive, chameleon-like performer as Lope de
Vega, the gallant genius playwright of the Spanish Golden
Age in Quien lo probo, lo sabe, also penned by
Moro.
The impact of the Mazzei/Moro
collaboration in Jesus Christ is intellectually
overwhelming. Instead of hard pounding, drum-driven rock
music that numbs your soul and alters your heart rhythms,
such as in the musical Jesus Christ, Superstar,
Mazzei talks through our eyes into our souls. Sometimes
Mazzei speaks directly from the apron; sometimes mingling
with the audience in friendly communion.
Teatro de la Luna launches its Fifteenth International
Festival of Hispanic Theater with a wickedly cynical,
needling, protest play that is a send-up. Dominican identity
is dissected through the story of Shakespeare’s Othello.
What’s universal in Othello, Shakespeare’s play? Envy and
revenge, the lust for power and penchant for violence, the
capacity for destruction unleashed. From the Dominican
Republic, a daring young actor/writer, Claudio Rivera in
Otello…Sniff, exposes life as a descent into hell, as it is
(or was) under a corrupt dictator. Rivera is a wonderful
actor we have seen before in Our Lady of the Clouds (Nuestra
Senora de las Nubes, in the 2009 La Luna International
Festival. Stay tuned.)
Haunting wails are heard from off-stage, reminiscent of an
Afro-West-Indian call and answer vocal, accompanied by
syncopated Caribbean-Salsa music. Enter Iago as a red-nosed
clown (Rivera), who peers out from behind an upstage black
curtain. At first, he seems innocuous enough. Dressed in
luminous, lavender-purple habit, Iago could be a monk.
Light-of-foot, this clown creeps into a center stage
spotlight to tell us, “I hate everyone.” Instantly we are
together in hell, face-to-face with Iago, the supreme
embodiment of evil in Shakespeare’s line-up of over-the-top
villains. And through Rivera, also as narrator, he shape-shifts
into Iago who assaults us with his mean-spirited, spiteful
message for how he intends to destroy all illusion, all hope
for utopia or a perfect society.
You don't need to know all the details of
Shakespeare's "Othello" to enjoy "Otelo ... Sniff," the first
offering of the 15th Festival Internacional de Teatro Hispano
(International Festival of Hispanic Theater) at Teatro de la
Luna. In fact, the clowning and use of puppets, props, dance and
music makes the production tremendously accessible, so that even
if you've never seen or read the original "Othello," this one
would make sense.
Adapted and performed by Claudio Rivera, of
Teatro Guloya in the Dominican Republic, "Otelo ... Sniff"
distills Shakespeare's plot into a play that runs for slightly
more than an hour. So quite a bit of telescoping and compressing
has been done in Rivera's adaptation. Yet the essential story
remains, of the Moor who is convinced, by the vicious Iago, that
his bride has cheated on him.
Directed by Rivera and Viena Gonzalez, this Otelo
is seen in a different perspective. He appears wearing a royal
purple robe but wearing a red clown nose, so he is
simultaneously Otelo and Otelo's clown. Immediately, it's clear
that this will not be a conventional telling of the tale. In
addition, Rivera plays all the other major roles: Desdemona,
Iago, Brabantio and Cassio.
Rivera is a very physical actor, and there's
barely a moment when he isn't in motion, gesturing with his
arms, moving all around the performing space, gyrating to Latin
and Afro-West Indian dance beats. His props include two tiny
puppet heads attached to long scarves, blue for Desdemona and
red for Otelo, and he speaks their conversations the way a child
would invent conversations between dolls.
There's plenty of music in "Otelo," from
classical to folk music to the kind of techno-pop you might hear
in any club in the Dominican Republic. And though traces of
Shakespeare's poetry come through here and there, this is
definitely a contemporary take on the Othello story: At one
point, Otelo calls Desdemona "little chick."
Monica Ferreras has created a simple set, with
two tables to support Rivera's props, the most significant of
which is Otelo's fantastic half-mask, designed by Ernesto Lopez.
It's black, like a commedia dell'arte mask, and it gives Otelo a
particularly menacing look.
The combination of Rivera's energy, his facility
with the text and his ability to turn tragedy into tragicomedy
makes this one of the most enjoyable productions Teatro de la
Luna has presented in its 15 years of doing international
festivals.
Forget the green-eyed monster: Othello should look out
for the guy with the red clown nose.
Dominican theater artist Claudio Rivera dons such a
nozzle for “Otelo… Sniff,” his 70-minute solo show, which condenses and
lampoons Shakespeare’s jealousy-themed tragedy.
Making goofy faces, larking about with props and
frequently shattering the fourth wall — while remaining relatively
faithful to the play’s contours and rhetorical highlights — Rivera seems
to point out the absurdity inherent in possessive, vengeful,
self-destructive and racially prejudiced behavior. He also spends a lot
of time sticking his tongue out at the audience, eyes impishly alight,
daring anyone to resist his irreverence.
Co-directed by Rivera and Viena Gonzalez, “Otelo ...
Sniff” kicked off the 15th International Festival of Hispanic Theater at
Arlington’s Gunston Arts Center last weekend. The festival, mounted by
the local company Teatro de la Luna, runs through Nov. 17 and includes
offerings from Latin America and Spain. (With the exception of one
children’s show, performances are in Spanish, with simultaneous English
translation provided via headset.)
The proceedings got off to a propitious start with four
performances of Rivera’s spoof, which he wrote and began performing 11
years ago. Produced by the Dominican company Teatro Guloya, the show
unfolded in front of two tables draped with colorful scarves. After
peeking slyly around the edge of a backdrop, Rivera sauntered onstage,
dressed in a purple satin toga and sporting the aforementioned clown
nose. Explaining that he was Iago, speaking from beyond the grave, he
proceeded to reenact the excitement, subterfuge and violence surrounding
Othello and Desdemona’s romance.
As the actor channeled the voices of the ill-fated
spouses and sundry other characters, he snatched up illustrative props
from the tables. A pink cup represented ships sailing around Cyprus. A
purple hat signaled the presence of Cassio. Two tiny dolls often stood
in for Othello and Desdemona: Rivera wielded them like finger puppets,
making light of the spouses’ billing and cooing. (Monica Ferreras
designed the show’s set, Ernesto Lopez was mask designer and Josue
Santana devised the sound.)
But the performer exploited his own physicality, too,
executing the odd Afro-Caribbean-style dance move or striking
exaggerated poses, like a one-legged balancing stance. He also
interacted with audience members: On Saturday night, he ad-libbed banter
with one person and polished another’s shoes.
Then, about three-quarters of the way through the
performance, Rivera purported to collapse from exhaustion. Only after he
had coaxed a theatergoer to supply him with an energy-boosting candy
from her purse did he continue his act. Such whimsical moments added to
the production’s humor without detracting from Shakespeare’s themes.
Rather, by mocking both the Bard’s characters and human conduct in
general, Rivera seemed to emphasize the cautionary tale at the heart of
“Othello.”
In the coming weeks, the festival will present five more
U.S. premieres, including Mariano Moro’s play “Jesucristo” (“Jesus
Christ”), mounted by Argentina’s Compañia Los del Verso; Blanca del
Barrio’s play “Cartas de las Golondrinas” (“Letters From the Swallows”),
about emigration and immigration, staged by Spain’s Escena Miriñaque;
and Maria Beatriz Vergara’s comedy “Aguita de Viejas” (“Fragrances From
the Past”), produced by Ecuador’s Zero No Zero Teatro.