In México, los desaparecidos is an unfortunate reality. The United Nations announced, tragically, that in 2022, the number of those who have disappeared in Mexico reached 100,000. We’ll never forget the 43 students in Ayotzinapa, for example, who were taken and then forcibly disappeared, approximately 10 years ago on September 26, 2014. I briefly bring up the historical context to this issue because Valentina Sierra wrote and directed a play related to this horrible reality. Would it surprise you if I then say that this play is for children?
Cover of playbill |
The play, ¿Puedes verme? (Can you see me?), relates the story of a young girl named Bárbara, played by Daniela Arroio, who feels that she is disappearing from reality. At first, she thinks her feet begin to disappear, then her hands, then her legs, then her arms, then parts of her face. Her parents also recognize that she is disappearing and take her to a doctor who prescribes bright clothing so that she can be recognized. Bárbara feels that this isn’t a permanent solution, so she looks for ways to solve this issue herself—demonstrating that her own agency is perhaps better than what “experts” or “adults” can offer.
Bárbara says she is present, but her teacher doesn't see her |
One day, while she is at an art museum with her school, she sees an installation about disappearances that speaks to her. Unfortunately, the exhibition is leaving the next day. So, logically, she fits inside a luggage and is transported with the exhibition to its home—where the original artist, Azucena, resides. There, she escapes the police and finds refuge with the help of other children who “disappeared” and depend on Azucena. Bárbara is ecstatic to identify with this group of children, and after some play, they decide to look for the author of the exhibition.
Bárbara travels to Azucena's home town |
Eventually, Azucena “appears” in the form of a large, blue dress, and helps Bárbara find her voice by revealing that her real mother, her aunt, disappeared, and that people eventually gave up looking for her. With this hard truth, Bárbara, as well as the others, begin to “appear” again. They learn that if they want to be “seen” then they will need to speak up more—use their agency. Eventually, Bárbara returns home. Her “parents” apologize to Bárbara for withholding this truth. By the end of the play, Bárbara is whole again.
Bárbara is complete again |
I’d like to focus on two scenes that I found to be rich in intertextuality, especially for children’s audiences. First, in the factory, where the niños desaparecidos reside, Bárbara begins to feel at home as she identifies with the other disappearing children. There, she takes off the bright-colored clothing and embraces her new state in revelry and fun. They dance. They jump. They sing. One tap dances. It is a scene of youthful bliss.
Having fun in the abandoned factory |
However, this jubilee is broken when another child suddenly asks Bárbara “a quién extrañas más” (who do you miss the most?). This question reminds both the character and the audience that this joy is momentary. There is a deeper sadness hidden behind the jubilee of these children. Immediately, this scene reminded me of the lost boys in Peter Pan. In Neverland, the lost boys, who fell out of their perambulators, play all day and night. They live in a constant state of brotherhood and depend on each other to survive. Nonetheless, the lost boys yearn for a mother figure in their lives, which is where Wendy’s role became significant. She could read books to them and take care of them as if she were their collective mother. Their disappearances remind us of the underlying sadness upon which the children appear to be content in their new state. The connection between Peter Pan and los desaparecidos in this play could not be more obvious at this point, at least for me, and I find it super fascinating that a play for children about los desaparecidos evokes what one could argue as the first play/novel in England that was tailored for children—more than a century ago. In my opinion, this intertextuality speaks to the ongoing influence of such foundational, canonical works for children in Mexico.
F.D. Bedford, "Peter Plan Playing Pipes," Peter and Wendy, 1911 |
Secondly, when Azucena finally appears in the form of an illuminated and oversized dress, the characters and audience cannot put a face to her. She is an elusive figure, much like a deity or fairy, who works beyond the realm of what we perceive as reality. Through her omniscience, she reveals Bárbara’s true identity. This revelation allows Bárbara to then see herself as her body returns to its normal appearance. After this revelation, she disappears, and the other characters begin to find themselves as well. They have learned the hard lesson of their disappearances and have, apparently, come to terms with the fact of their identities. They have also learned the importance of their own voices and that they should shout until their loved ones are eventually found. They should never stop looking for those who have disappeared.
This scene evoked yet another intertextual reference to children’s literature: The blue fairy, or the fairy with turquoise hair. In Pinocchio, the fairy aids Pinocchio during his misadventures, and eventually turns him from a puppet into a real boy. This fairy has been evoked in other forms as well. Readers might remember the 2001 movie A.I.: Artificial Intelligence in which a robot boy sought to become “real” and eventually finds a blue fairy on Coney Island, in a sunken post-apocalyptic period. This child’s quest to transform into their true or yearned-for identity is apparent in ¿Puedes verme? as well. It is only after contact with this otherworldly character that Bárbara can find herself and eventually return home in her true and complete form.
The desaparecidos begin to see each other after Azucena's visit |
In terms of the production, I hope this play finds new audiences. The direction of the play was outstanding. Every moment was full of energy—every moment. This included the transition scenes. The actors displayed a real awareness toward the audience to keep them engaged, mostly through slapstick and corporeal gesticulations that heightened their storytelling, and not once did the energy subside. I could sense how much the audience was engaged throughout the production, especially because kids tend to be real about their feelings. Through vibrant and ever-changing costumes, digital projections and black-light sets, the visual components of the play also produced a dynamic atmosphere for storytelling. There was also audience participation. For example, at one point, the desaparecidos in the factory were listening to the sounds of the ocean on the edge of the stage, listening toward the audience. Eventually, the audience began to make the sounds of the ocean, as the actors commented on the sounds they heard.
The niños desaparecidos listening to the ocean |
In this season, it is also worth noting that Valentina Sierra made the Saturday performances funciones relajadas, for autistic and neurodivergent audiences. This allowed children who otherwise would not be traditionally welcomed into the theater space, to feel a part of this vibrant community. These relaxed performances allowed these audiences to attend the theater without the constraints of traditional audience behavior, like being quiet and sitting still during the production. On another level, it is also beautiful to see the inclusion of other desaparecidos from society attending the theater as well. In all ways, this performance, and its production, are why I attend theater: the construction of an inclusive community—on stage and in the audience—and raising awareness—in creative and imaginative ways—of important issues affecting such communities. Bravo Puño de tierra!
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