by Alan
R. Hall
January 24, 2009, Chapel Hill, NC: As
part of Carolina
Performing Arts’
World Stage series, Teatro
de Ciertos Habitantes
of Mexico brought to the Memorial Hall stage at the University
of North Carolina at Chapel Hill a form of lampoon entitled Monsters
and Prodigies: The History of the Castrati.
On a blank set and using only a septet of actors, the troupe
uses a number of different means, from nudity to slapstick,
to stick it to the three-century history that they came to
portray. The interesting thing about this so-called lampoon
is that, though we are already inclined to laugh, we don’t;
this despite the fact that there is plenty of opportunity.
At the beginning of the 18th century, a two-headed barber-surgeon
named Jean-Ambroise Paré (Raul Roman and Gaston Yanes)
begins castrating young boys with the interest of preserving
their high, sweet soprano voices. This two-headed monster surgeon
even performs a mock castration, to educate the audience. Through
everything he/they do, Paré keeps up a constant patter
of history, regaling us with how these singers train, how they
live, what stress they survive, ad infinitum. Our virtuoso,
Javier Medina, indeed seems to be able to reach such divine
vocal calisthenics quite easily. He performs many times, and
we hear a measure of what kind of voice a true castrato had.
But if we have come to witness history, we seem to be missing
something. Monsters and Prodigies, you see, is spoken
in Spanish with English superscripts. And while for the most
part this is true, it is not always the case. A great deal
goes on onstage while there is nothing at all in the superscript
box. Those of us without the benefit of Spanish miss a great
deal. We come to know Chiron (Miguel Angel Lopez), the monster
who rages against this abomination. We also learn of Baldessarre
Galuppi, the Teacher who plays the harpsichord and trains these
many students. There is a Sulaiman (Kaveh Parmas), or servant,
or, for lack of a better term, clown. We even recognize, when
he appears, Napoleon Bonaparte (Luis Fernando Villegas), who
would bring all this down with a sudden cannon shot. The attempt
does, at least, silence the cacophony for a few seconds.
But whether we have come to witness history or humor, we are
not amused. The laughs are not loud, nor are there many of
them. The side aisles are being used by those who would escape;
and several do before the beginning of the bread fight, during
which many soft buns are hurled across the stage and into the
audience. The performance also came with a heckler, whether
well-placed or not, who went on at quite a clip for several
minutes regarding why the show should have been done in English.
She was apparently quite irate.
Teatro de Ciertos Habitantes performed their history quickly,
without intermission. It was a rather swift two hours, but
that is not necessarily a good thing. Riotous or not, when
most of what you are hearing makes no sense, you are lost.
And in this case, language was not the only reason why we were
lost. Even with the superscripts, most of Monsters
and Prodigies escaped the audience. For their
part, the audience made good their escape after only a polite
applause.
