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'Fuente Ojevuna' Is A Rewarding Struggle.
By Mari Wadsworth
BORDERLANDS' LATEST PRODUCTION is a challenging bit of
theatre. But then, the multicultural, nonprofit arts organization
has never shied away from difficult themes during its 12-year
tenure as a bastion of regional theater. Past productions such
as Deporting the Divas and last year's ambitious 13
Días/13 Days have bolstered Borderlands' reputation
for timely satire, strong politics and the courage to bring the
minority voice--be it a cross-dressing Border Patrol agent or
disenfranchised Mexican campesino--center stage.
Though Borderlands' aims have always been admirable, the final
productions have sometimes labored under the constraints of limited
resources. Divas, for example, was regrettably squeezed
into PCC's tiny Black Box Theater; and its well-written script
bogged down at times under a young cast of uneven abilities. And
on the other end of the spectrum, the sprawling 13 Días
endeavored to capture so many aspects of the violence in Chiapas,
Mexico, both historical and metaphorical, it lost cohesion.
But with its mounting of Lope de Vega's Fuente Ovejuna,
written in the early 1600s by one of the finest Spanish-language
playwrights ever, Borderlands at last weds a fine script with
superior production values and a near-flawless performance by
its bilingual cast.
The play itself offers a rich historical glimpse pertinent to
our border region, yet rarely seen in these parts: that of Spain,
during its "golden age" of art and literature. So often
in the American West, our images of Spain and its influence are
limited to the atrocities and assimilations forced upon the Americas
by the conquistadors.
What's interesting about Fuente Ovejuna is that it not
only recreates in grand style the language and costume of the
celebratory Siglo de Oro renaissance during which it was
written, but it does so with a theme near and dear to our border-region
pathos: that of the village rising up in solidarity against its
oppressor.
The play is set in 1476, during the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella,
and centers around the fictional village of Fuente Ovejuna, outside
the Ciudad Real (which housed the royal court). Our first introduction
to the villagers is through the banter and coquetry of its younger
members, who whirl and dance and debate the subject of love in
taunting and lyrical verse. These sections of the play are akin
to watching Shakespeare in Spanish--the language is difficult
to follow because it is, in fact, difficult.
As with many historical works, there's an archaic vocabulary
and context that contemporary audiences will be hard-pressed to
grasp without some scholarship, especially in an arena as unfamiliar
in our education as Spanish classical theater. And for some, the
castellano accent in which these lines are delivered may
cause further confusion until the ear adjusts. But the actors
deliver their lines with confidence and clarity, and the playbill's
supplemental notes by director Barclay Goldsmith and consultant
dramaturg Vern Williamsen, a retired professor of Hispanic Classical
Theatre at the University of Missouri, are exceedingly helpful.
Goldsmith notes that some of the cast members learned their lines
phonetically, an effort for which they and their language coaches,
Angelica Santini and Rebeca Cartes, are to be congratulated.
The idyllic setting of the rural village, with its unquestioned
daily toil and divisions between the sexes and generations, is
interrupted when the liberty-taking Commandante (played in English
by Clark Andreas Ray and in Spanish by Leonardo Rodriguez) arrives
with his soldiers to impose what amounts to martial law, even
though the country is thriving in peacetime.
The ensuing power struggle, the flashpoint of which is the wedding
between young lovers Laurencia (enchantingly played by Nuria Morgado)
and Frondoso (Martin Chandler), questions the role and even definition
of love, honor and loyalty--themes which characterized much of
the Siglo de Oro works, but which are nonetheless timeless.
Williamsen writes of the triangular conflict, "The honor
of the royal court conflicts with that of one of its feudal lords
at the same time that the honor due him as a member of his social
class is called into question by his dishonorable actions as a
human being."
...And it's all told in poetic dialogue, verse and meter, with
a lovely original score composed by Bruce Barthol which includes
Celtic-tinged instrumentals, and songs with Flamenco vocal stylings.
The music falls in seamlessly with the story, creating a natural
bridge between language and action, guided by gentle choreography
by Eva Tessler.
It's really a shame last Saturday's opening night performance
in Spanish was so sparsely attended. Due to popular sentiment,
one of this weekend's performances has been changed from Spanish
to English.
Though admittedly intimidating, it's a play meant for its native
tongue. Given the rigor applied to the Spanish production, we're
confident equal care was given to its English translation by Victor
Dixon. But the beauty of this language, which is not a spoken-Spanish,
is not translatable. One might approach it the same way a non-native
might listen to an Italian opera: The lyricism and emotion tell
the story, even if you don't understand the words. Those interested
in the Spanish language, either as native speakers or students,
owe it to themselves to take advantage of this rare opportunity.
Made to travel, the production (debuted at the 23rd International
Siglo de Oro Festival in El Paso, Texas, and Juarez, Mexico, last
month) has a subdued elegance: An earthy landscape backdrop has
the feel of a classic painting, handheld props dress-up, without
detracting from, the spare, stone-colored set, and lighting designer
Don Evans has created an illusory stained-glass window for the
royal palace, and a cold, dappled moonlight through an imaginary
forest for the village. Also noteworthy are the lavish royal costumes
designed by Linda Longhofer.
Along with the spacious Proscenium's own star-studded curtain,
the overall effect is one exceptional night at the theatre, both
challenging and magical.
Fuente Ovejuna, a Borderlands Theater production,
continues through April 11 in the PCC Proscenium Theater,
2202 W. Anklam Road. Thursday's performance will be in Spanish;
English performances are at 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday. Tickets
range from $6 to $12, available in advance at Antigone Books,
the Borderlands Theater Office, Yoly's Music Shop, and the PCC
West Campus cashier. Call 882-7406 for reservations and
information.
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