Wenses y Lala

To be human. For me, theater reminds me of what it means to be human. Carefully cultivated theater draws out and highlights the gloriously human in life. Such theater I experienced Friday night at the Miami Dade County Auditorium. As part of the 33^rd International Hispanic Theatre Festival of Miami, I witnessed a remarkable play, Wenses y Lala, from the group “TresTristes Tigres”, written and directed by Adrián Vázquez (as Wenses), with Teté Espinoza as Lala. This was the first time the play breathed air outside of Mexico, and Miamians are in for a real treat. If you are in Miami for the weekend and would like to spend money on something meaningful, worthwhile, and ultimately human, I suggest you consider seeing this beautiful piece of theater. In what follows, I would like to remark on some of the aspects of the play that I found simply captivating and well executed, both in terms of content of the play and the form in which it was realized.

Wenses y Lala. Photo credit: Cartelera de Teatro

First and foremost, Wenses y Lala is a story of love. A love between two persons that continues beyond the grave. As such, we as the audience are participating in their reminiscing about their life together. As we walked into the theater we were met by both characters sitting on a brown, wooden bench, mute but observant. Little by little they began to open up to us about who they were and what to expect as they began to unfold their lives for our observance. The beauty of this first encounter was that we began to see little idiosyncrasies that defined each of the characters. For example, Lala loves to talk and make jokes. She is expressive with her gestures and still in love with her Wenses. He, on the other hand, finds it very difficult to speak in public to those he does not know. He stutters, avoids eye contact, and relies on Lala to control the conversation. Immediately, the fourth wall is shattered as the lights go up and Lala asks for volunteers to introduce themselves. She engaged with the public and asked questions, cracked jokes, and found a way to make a connection between themselves as a couple and the characteristics of the audience members. Once finished, Wenses felt a little more comfortable opening up, and the stutter, while still there, began to subside. The lights then faded on the audience, and the couple continued their storytelling. I would venture that we as an audience felt more connected to these two characters because of this initial experience. This connection between actor and audience, I feel, was vital for the play’s ultimately successful realization because Wenses and Lala were no more mere characters on a stage, but people with real lives who wished to interact and form a bond with us as an audience. As the saying goes: “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care”.

Adrián Vázques. Photo Credit: Cartelera de Teatro

This is a story that weaves together two distinct periods of time: the immediate present, as deceased persons engaging with the audience and reminiscing on times foregone; as well as brief moments in which the characters reenact specific moments of the past they are narrating. Let me give you an example. At one point in the show, as Wenses and Lala describe their evolving relationship from innocent children cum lovers, we reach a point in their story when their physical intimacy blossoms. As they both recount their version of this event (Lala probing Wenses to see how much he remembers), you see each of the characters lost in their emotions. Lala, for one, with closed eyes and lips somewhat pursed, reimagines the feelings of her “first time”, while Wenses, the shy one of the couple, acknowledges with a head nod this special moment as it is being recounted by Lala. The storytelling here transports us into the past, and Lala’s corporeal and sensual probing reminds us that the story being told actually occurred because she can recall her emotions and feelings.

Teté Espinoza. Photo Credit: Cartelera de Teatro

Here’s another example. Toward the end of the show, Lala recounts the day she died and how Wenses, who sang once and refused to sing again, actually sang at her funeral. At that moment, Wenses, the reticent of the two, bursts up and out of the bench and begins to express himself in song, lamenting the death of his beloved companion. His character’s arch probably hit its climax at this point, from the beginning of the play when he could barely speak to finally releasing his emotions and becoming vulnerable in front of not only those at his wife’s funeral, but us as an active audience. It was breathtaking.

Which brings me to one of the most remarkable aspects of this play: the acting. I am almost always blown away by the amazing theater produced in Mexico City, and tonight I was definitely not disappointed. Theater does not necessarily need a large set or fancy lighting schemes to bring out the human in all of us. Theater simply needs a body or two sitting on a bench and captivating an audience by gestures and words. And that is exactly what occurred tonight. The eyes, the hands, the little idiosyncrasies of each of the characters, the songs, the playful way in which Lala teased and egged on Wenses and Wenses reverted to his defense mechanisms, all of these elements felt real. It was, in a word, human. I might add that Teté and Adrián have been acting in this play off and on since its debut in 2014, so there has to be some chemistry after four years together. Both Wenses and Lala have well crafted characters on stage and I am very appreciative and aware of the hard work that goes into crafting such unique relationships on the stage.

Wenses y Lala. Photo Credit: Centro Cultural Español

Finally, I would like to mention the form of the play in terms of its story telling. There is something to be said about the way a piece of drama utilizes storytelling as a tool for driving plot and action in the present world of the play. However, this technique was not taught to me during my playwrighting class, for example. The emphasis in playwrighting within modern Western dramatic traditions has usually focused on the dialogue between two persons in a time in which they are portrayed to be living. Much of the realist and absurdist drama of the twentieth century tend to remain in one time period with an immediate and mutual present for all characters involved. In a sense, the neoclassical tradition of the unities of time, space, and plot dominate most theater today, with few (notable) exceptions. In television much of this technique is used with flashbacks, such as in the series Lost when viewers are transported into the past of a character’s life in order to understand the present action and the driving forces behind each of the characters. In this way, storytelling provides clear impetus for understanding the present.

But in this play the present action is not dependent upon previous memories. Rather, the memories build up the story in order to create finely polished characters with whom the audience falls in love. We do follow a trajectory of their lives as the play advances, but the present action are two people sitting on a bench retelling important episodes in their lives. We share memories with them as they recall their most harrowing and joyful experiences together. By the end of the play, we have invested so much time and emotion into their lives that they have become dear friends to us and it is hard to say goodbye. In this way, the play’s action is more about establishing close relationships rather than strictly following a chronological plot. It is more an awareness of what it means to be human, without explicit didactic purposes or an activist theme for social or political change. For me, it was like opening up a window into the human experience and remembering what it means to have a meaningful conversation, to develop lasting relationships, and to persist in love despite the challenges I face.

Is this the new direction of theater today? I at least realize that in Mexico this is becoming a popular trend, with critics and fans alike. During the discussion after the show I asked Adrián about his choice in writing Wenses y Lala in the form of narrating stories, a genre often referred to in post-dramatic theory as “narraturgia” (narrativa + dramaturgia). He replied that the theater he writes seeks to find “el poder de la palabra” (the power of the word) and to “transmitir un sentimiento” (transmit a feeling). He does not like to use the term “narraturgia” because he views his theater as just that, theater: “lo nuestro es teatro”. Thus, he feels that categorizing his theater into a subsection like “narraturgia” does not give justice to what he is attempting to do: write theater that is engaging. Adrián is colleagues with Alejandro Ricaño (think El amor de las luciérnagas or Más pequeños que el Guggenheim, for example). Ricaño also writes theater in this style and has found a lot of success. Since the beginning of the 21^st century Mexican playwrights have begun to write theater by telling stories in them (think of the 2006 edition of Paso de Gato). One of the audience members felt that the storytelling allowed us as an audience to glimpse what it means to be Mexican, but a self-identified Mexican felt that the story was rather universal in its scope. I agree with both. I found the play’s recourse to violence one of the tropes often used in Mexican theater, but the idea of lasting relationships and difficult marriages is indeed universal.

For those in the Miami area this weekend, I highly recommend this play. For more information, visit teatroavante.com or visit miamidadecountyauditorium.org.

Exilios: obras breves

Last night Dr. Compton and I attended exilios: obras breves, a collection of four short plays dealing with the theme of exile. We took the subway system to the Auditorio Nacional, a venue which has many different theatres surrounding it, and from there to the Teatro Galeón. I want to point out that this particular trip is truly special because I am seeing Mexican theater with Dr. Tim Compton from Northern Michigan University. This is a real privilege because he is well known by many respected persons here and abroad as a trusted critic, although he himself argues the impossibility of being a true critic. But more on that later. I think you are more interested in the plays for now.

(Teatro Galeón)

Maybe a bit of background will help establish the framework for this production. In the summer of 2013 Sandra Félix, a Mexican director, produced these short plays together in El Foro La Gruta del Centro Cultural Helénico. We will meet with her later in this trip, so one of the big questions I have for her are what changes she made to each of the four works that were originally presented, as well as why she omitted two of the original six plays. At least we know that these plays were not produced for the first time, and that they most likely received criticism and were adjusted for this particular performance.

With this background in mind, I’d like to discuss briefly the plot, theme and other elements for the first two plays, and the last. The third play, for me and Dr. Compton, was problematic on many fronts. I recognize there is a lot to discuss, as Dr. Compton and I have been talking about them since we left, so please excuse the short space in which I will try to write down my thoughts on what took years to produce. My hope is that you might at least be familiar with some of the current themes in Mexican theatre today, as well as see some of my personal thoughts as I approach these plays.

Frontera (Border) written by Laila Ripoll

There is a version on YouTube of this work. The first thing you will notice is how dark the scene is. That’s because it is set in the desert at night. The version on YouTube has a grandmother and grandson, while the version last night switched the grandmother to a grandfather. However, the lines are the same. I want to ask Sandra Félix why they switched gender in this version. The great struggle here dealt with the grandson’s desire to cross the border into the United States of America while also battling guilt for abandoning his family and culture. This is a very prevalent struggle for many people throughout the world, not must Mexicans. In my own family my wife left her country to live with me, and I know from personal experiences that it is very difficult to leave behind family and culture. I get it, but I also don’t. I still live in my own country and it is difficult for me to come to terms with these feelings, but that doesn´t mean I don´t try to understand. I get it, but I don’t.

The grandfather in this scene was exiled from Spain during Franco’s regime, and now, filled with memories of his former country, he struggles to convince his grandson that leaving his country behind is a mistake with grave consequences. The story itself is compelling, but the delivery was a little unconvincing. As a graduate with a theater degree I come to the theater with a very critical mind. Once you understand technique, you appreciate it when you see it, but you also recognize where things lack with more precision (I’ve had many a critiques of my own works at BYU). It´s a double-edged sword of sorts. For example, the grandfather had many, many lines throughout the play, while the grandson kept saying he was leaving and that his grandfather should be quiet. I thought to myself, then go! If all you care about is leaving, which is what I’m getting each time you talk, then just leave behind your grandfather, like you´ve been saying! But he didn’t, until the end. I would have liked to see dialogue between the two instead of just the grandfather speaking the majority of the time. I think I focused a lot on this dialogue for the simple fact that because the lighting was so dark, the only thing I could really focus on was the dialogue. I would have liked to hear more compelling counter-arguments from the grandson.

Also, I didn’t catch at the beginning that the grandfather was really a representation of the inner struggle of the grandson. However, by talking with Dr. Compton, I realized this crucial element. With that in mind the play changed drastically for me. The reason I didn’t see the grandfather as a “thought” was the fact that there were physical elements to his existence on stage: the grandson carried him, pushed him, and they physically tugged at each other. I thought he was simply a very persistent grandfather. I feel this inner struggle is central to appreciating this work. One of my big take-aways here is that if we really try to understand some of the struggles immigrants experience when leaving behind their country and risking everything, we will develop more empathy and appreciation for each one as a person instead of, for example, a “threat” in their host country.

El buen vecino (The good neighbor) written by Juan Mayorga

This was, for me, one of the strongest of the four plays. The plot began with an undocumented immigrant who lives in Spain and who built for himself a comfortable life there. At the beginning he is sitting in a café when his coworker arrives to celebrate. He is very ambiguous about why he is celebrating, but eventually we learn that he found something to hold over him: he found out about his illegal status. With the passing of a new law that gives him a special power over the immigrant (he could denounce him to the police in any moment), he begins a controlling friendship with the caveat that if he ever disagrees to anything he will be reported to the police and then deported. After the previous short work where we see a glimpse into the struggles of immigrants leaving behind family and culture, this play adds to it the wielding of power over immigrants in their host countries, yet another overwhelming element.

What really worked for me here was how convincing this manipulative coworker controlled the situation. For example, on several occasions the immigrant wanted to get up and leave, but there was a threatening demeanor to the coworker that even made me feel uncomfortable, like he was psychopathic, for example. And the “illegal”, his new friend, remained in his chair. However, he reassured his new “friend” that he wouldn’t do anything humillante, but I think we all know it was a façade to the power he knowingly wanted to yield. And at the end, when he forces the immigrant to sing a song, he has been reduced in our eyes to a mere puppet. You couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him under this new dynamic. This person who built a new life in a new country is now forced to confront the fact that others now hold a unique power over him, and are conscientiously exercising that power.

(Un buen vecino)

For me I see a gospel truth here. Yes, there are consequences to our actions. Someone who comes to another country illegally broke a rule. There are consequences. I get that. But no person is perfect, and one action does not define us more fully than all the other aspects or actions of our life. So, when we come across people we know are undocumented, instead of throwing the blame on them for making what must have been a terribly difficult decision (as if we haven´t made terrible decisions ourselves), we should show love and compassion, not force or manipulation.

May I share an example where I saw this manipulation fully at work? While I served in the Long Beach, California mission for the LDS church I saw on several occasions the power business owners used to control their employees (low wages, long hours, etc.) who were undocumented. I think this play brought attention to this terrible present situation, not just a phenomenon in the USA, but in many parts of the world where people flee. And my take-away from this is that compassion should be at the forefront of our thoughts. For me, God is the person who will make everything right and who is the right and just Judge. We are here to love.

 Un día de lluvia (A Rainy Day) written by Alicia Zárate

This play was the other strong play of the evening. The plot revolved around two people caught in the rain, perched on a patio waiting for the rain to stop. As they awkwardly exchange pleasantries they gradually break down walls and express existential worries. By the end Julio renounces his former life and Alejandra finds herself where she belongs. One of the great techniques used in this story was the use of the cigarette, which by its very nature lasts for a short period of time, and thus the people know they can’t talk forever. As both calmed down from the nicotine they opened up and shared deep worries, Alejandra first, and then Julio. The ending for me was a bit problematic because the two decide to make a life-altering decision to leave everything behind after a few minutes of conversation.

(Un día de lluvia)

This last point, for me, was the most problematic because I have a wife and two kids and they are the world to me. To think that after many years of living together that I could just walk away from them because I can’t find myself, to me sounds selfish and disrespectful. It happens, yes. But it’s disrespectful to a wife that works side-by-side and committed years of her life to making a marriage work, as well as to the children that need their parents there, and it’s disrespectful to the institution of marriage, which depends on a commitment, like any other commitment between two parties. To me the scene would have seemed much more realistic had the two exchanged their existential crises and then realized they had to go back to their realities to work out their problems. That would have been more impactful because the reality of the situation would be that they would simply return to it and nothing would be resolved (sounds a lot like what happens in life, unresolved issues). But instead, the scene ended with some hope, fatalistic hope it seemed to me, that by leaving their problems behind they would eventually find themselves (a very romantic proposition). But in the end the acting, the props, the scenery and the dialogue (up until the end) worked together to make one of the more realistic scenes of the evening, and for me, one of the most impactful.

And, if I may leave one last point, in both El buen vecino and Un día de lluvia the place of origin of these immigrants is not divulged. In this way, the plays about exile seem to take on a more universal tone that I feel help the plays touch a larger audience than just Mexicans. As the playbill stated, “You don´t need to go very far to feel exiled” (my own translation).