“Absolutamente emocionante pero de veras.de veras. Yo no leo ninguno de mis libros después de que se publican, no los leo por miedo, por miedo de que algo no me guste y quisiera cambiarlo (…) El Coronel no tiene quien le escriba no es la excepción. Yo no la leo desde que se publicó sin embargo hoy la viví completamente otra vez como cuando la escribí. De veras no esperaba que fuera tan emocionante, tan conmovedora para mí y tengo la impresión de que para el público también porque me di cuenta de que todo el mundo quedó en suspenso desde la primera palabra hasta la última. No se oyó volar una mosca, no se oía respirar. Es emocionante realmente”.
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta JOSÉ PEPE TEJERA. Mostrar todas las entradas
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Carlos Giménez and `El Coronel`: “Powerful Tale Of An Individual`s Struggle Emerges In `El Coronel`” / by Richard Christiansen, Chief critic, The Chicago Tribune, June 03, 1992
"For all that, it is not a glum or boring stage piece, thanks to the theatrical imagination of Carlos Gimenez,
who adapted the 1957 novella and directed it for his company, Fundacion Rajatabla of Caracas.
The overriding atmosphere of the production is that of a dream, a stylized panorama in which an angel
of death, bearing an umbrella against the rain, becomes a recurrent symbol."
``No One Writes to the Colonel,`` the Venezuelan
production being presented here for the International Theatre Festival, opens
with a crack of thunder, a swirl of rain, and a silent funeral procession
marching solemnly across the stage.
In this highly ritualistic adaptation of Gabriel
Garcia Marquez`s novella, being staged through Sunday at the Steppenwolf
Theatre, the sense of futility and dreariness in the backwater town of a
remote, forsaken land is immediately established.
Even when the rain machine is not in action, there is
an aura of dank, sweaty despair in the air. Rotting humidity seems to be everywhere
as characters swat the mosquitoes that buzz around them and drench themselves
in cold water in order to avoid the paralyzing heat.
The skeletal colonel of the title and his birdlike
wife are two creatures on the verge of extinction, their bodies wracked with
hunger and various ugly physical ailments. Their home is a hut of corrugated
steel, their furnishings consist of little more than a hammock, a bed and a few
rickety chairs.
Still in mourning over the death of their only son,
killed while he was handing out political leaflets, the colonel and his wife
are slowly starving to death. Down to his last few pesos, the colonel waits in
vain for a pension promised to him 15 years ago for his services in the civil
war. The only hope for him is to sell his son`s prize cockfighting rooster to
the town`s diabetic, bloated political boss, but he is reluctant to part with
the bird because it symbolizes a pride he does not want to sell off.
``El Coronel No Tiene Quien Le Escribe`` (its Spanish
title) is an unusually dark and grim work by Garcia Marquez, Kafkaesque in its
presentation of a nightmarish force that is strangling the helpless individual.
For all that, it is not a glum or boring stage piece,
thanks to the theatrical imagination of Carlos Gimenez, who adapted the 1957
novella and directed it for his company, Fundacion Rajatabla of Caracas.
The overriding atmosphere of the production is that of
a dream, a stylized panorama in which an angel of death, bearing an umbrella
against the rain, becomes a recurrent symbol.
It`s a dream landscape, pierced by church bells and
illuminated by bursts of lightning, that contracts and expands through the
corrugated partitions that are silently swiveled about by the actors in order
to enclose a room in the colonel`s home or open up the whole stage.
One doesn`t need a translation to appreciate the
inventiveness of the staging, nor, for that matter, does one need to be a slave
to the flat, simultaneous English translation of the Spanish dialogue that
comes over the headsets handed out by the ushers.
The best strategy in absorbing this short, 90-minute
work is to arrive a little early and spend a few minutes reading the synopsis
printed in the program. With that general guideline in mind, one can follow the
action without distraction.
The acting by the 15-member ensemble is well worth
one`s attention.
Aura Rivas, as the colonel`s wife, is a small, stiff
little thing, clucking over her troubles and pecking about the house in her
misery.
Jose Tejera as the beleaguered colonel, on the other
hand, is a scarecrow figure of battered dignity, his lean, grizzled face marked
with a drooping mustache and his body clad in ill-fitting black suit and
scuffed shoes.
When, at play`s end, he sinks slowly to the ground
under the weight of his misery, he becomes, through the power of his physical
presence, a figure of great sorrow and great endurance.
`EL CORONEL NO TIENE QUIEN LE ESCRIBE`
A play adapted by Carlos
Gimenez from the novella by Gabriel Garcia Marquez;
directed by Gimenez,
with scenery and costumes by Rafael Reyeros, lighting by Jose Jimenez and
Reyeros, and music by Federico Ruiz. A production of Fundacion Rajatabla of
Venezuela, presented by the International
Theatre Festival of Chicago at the Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted
St. Opened Tuesday and plays again at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday through Friday and 2
and 7:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Running time: 1:30. Tickets are $26 to $32,
with discounts available for students and groups. Phone 312-644-3378.
THE CAST
Coronel Jose Tejera
Coronel`s wife Aura Rivas
Sabas Anibal Grunn
Post Office Employee Francisco Alfaro
Doctor Daniel Lopez
Lawyer Pedro
Pineda
Alvaro Aitor Gaviria
German Erich Wilpret
Alfonso Jesus Araujo
Sabas` wife Pilar Romero
With Norman
Santana, Gabriel Flores, Alejandro Faillace, Jose Sanchez, Rolando Jimenez.
Simultaneous translation by Jorge Busot.
By Richard Christiansen
Chief critic
June 03, 1992|
Original Source: The
Chicago Tribune
EL CORONEL NO TIENE QUIEN LE ESCRIBA, de Gabriel García Márquez. Versión teatral y Dirección: Carlos Giménez, 1989. Una coproducción del Festival Latino de Nueva York y el Festival de Dos Mundos de Spoleto
 |
| José Tejera y Aura Rivas |
"Absolutamente emocionante, conmovedora (....) No se oyó volar ni una mosca (....) No los reconozco, los conozco. No los había conocido, los conocí ahora.
Yo me imaginaba cómo eran, pero nunca los había visto. Ahora los vi.”
México agosto 1989
Estreno Venezuela: junio de 1989, Teatro de la Opera, Maracay
Estreno Internacional: Festival de Dos Mundos, Spoletto, Italia
Giras: 28 países, 300 funciones.
 |
| José Tejera y Daniel Lopez |
 |
| José Tejera y Pedro Pineda |
 |
| Mimí Sills y Aníbal Grunn |
 |
| José Tejera Todas las fotos: Miguel Gracia |
"Fragmentar la realidad, descodificar una unidad que es falsa y se basa en la rutina de repetir que existe, que es sólo lo que vemos. Volver sobre el tiempo y reiterar que nos aferramos a él para hacer lógica la existencia.
Necesitamos del pasado para darle sentido al presente. Caso contrario, caemos en el vacío y los fantasmas que nos habitan salen a la calle, se instalan en nuestras casas, comen y beben de nosotros. Tomar un trozo de la realidad: el instante en que la mujer del coronel sale a patio, remienda y hace el milagro de las prendas nuevas, y no ve caer la tarde, ni escucha el pito de la cigarra. Congelar ese instante, hacerlo eterno en la memoria. Suspender el color y los sonidos, luchar contra la dictadura del tiempo que pasa sin hacer ruido.
El Coronel no tiene quien le escriba es el drama del hombre común de América Latina. La esperanza fallida, la ilusión rota en promesas no cumplidas, en asaltos a la honestidad y en pactos de muerte. Una mujer y un hombre unidos por el fracaso. El hijo muerto, la casa hipotecada, la pensión que no llega; la dignidad, como coraza, para negar el horror de que ya no hay futuro.
Poder, espacio y tiempo, temas que son una constante en la trayectoria de Rajatabla. Acercarse al texto de El Coronel es introducirse en el drama de la sociedad latinoamericana. Y hemos querido hacerlo con rigor, sin concesiones a los arquetipos revolucionarios de una fiebre perdida.
Nunca más vigente que ahora, este canto a la desesperanza, este presagio que, partiendo del escenario, nos habla de uno y de todos. Desde la casa del coronel, vemos abrirse los muros, extenderse las ciénaga, ganar la lluvia, saquear los muebles y objetos, crecer el vacío, imponerse la soledad como destino. Superposición de tiempos y modificación de espacios regulan esta puesta en escena que intenta aproximarse a la tragedia.
Tragedia de un hombre y unos pueblos sometidos a la expoliación de su riqueza y a la traición de la esperanza".
Carlos Giménez, texto del programa de mano, 1989.
 |
| Crítica argentina. Fuente: Ángel Fernández Mateu |
 |
| Crítica argentina. Fuente: Ángel Fernández Mateu |
Fuentes
Viviana Marcela Iriart
Ed. Monte Avila -Presidencia de la República de Venezuela, 1991
Viviana Marcela Iriart
Ana Lía Cassina
Pablo Cassina
Carmen Gallardo
Rajatabla 20 años, de Blanca Sánchez y David RojasCarmen Gallardo
Ed. Monte Avila -Presidencia de la República de Venezuela, 1991
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