Not, “on stage and film” or “in stage and film”–on the filmed stage, on stage, on film; a recorded performance. A kind of translation in space and across media.
This spring, Boom Arts (in Portland) and On the Boards TV are collaborating on a series of community screenings of Amarillo, a theater piece performed by the Mexican company Teatro Línea de Sombra, directed by Jorge Vargas. I was invited to participate in the post-screening discussion at Teatro Milagro (and, earlier this spring, at the UO with Cinema Pacific). Jorge “skyped in” to participate in the discussion, a phrasing that suggests parachuting to me, smoke-jumping, sudden and heroic appearance.
And more crossing of borders. I’ve been interested in representations of migration and immigration in theater–especially Latin American and U.S. Latino/a theater–for a while now, and in the ways borders between stage and audience can be transgressed or redefined, as well as reinforced, in performance. The published text of Amarillo, by Gabriel Contreras (in the anthology Dramaturgia del noroeste, edited by Enrique Mijares [2011]) gives very little indication of how the piece might be staged, though there are a few stage directions.
Visually, it’s an inventive piece, one that draws a line in the sand–with real sand–and then rewrites it. The border is both static and mobile, represented by the towering rear wall of the theater, a wall that also represents the railroad cars many migrants ride (echoes here of Hugo Salcedo’s powerful El viaje de los cantores, among other plays). The edges of the stage and the space of preparation are visible, marked with tape or occupied by actors’ work areas. The action is also filmed within the piece; the recorded performance then adds another layer of recording and documentation, and surveillance.
Who am I? the characters ask. ¿Quién soy yo? Everyone and no one.
It’s a performance worth watching, either filmed or live. I was fortunate to be a small part of the conversation.