“Oh yeah I’ll tell you something, I think you'll understand.
When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand.
Quiero tomar tu mano,
I wanna hold your hand”.
At Teatro Coliseu, in Santos, a Beatles song sang by Peruvian actors kicks off the performance of a classic Shakespearean play. This apparently dissonant scene is the opening act of Mucho Ruido por Nada (Much Ado About Nothing), by the Chela de Ferrari company, which shows the universal nature of the theme that this production inspires:
Oh yeah I’ll tell you something, I think you'll understand.
The year is 2018. You are on the internet and you made it here by following the routes suggested by a social network: a digital non-place, where countless people speak, write, think, draw, photograph. All the time. Meanwhile, our hands drift farther apart. Are you still with me? Do you hear me?
The year is 2018, and who can speak and be heard? Who is assured the power and the right to speak? The right to be and to exist?
“Ah, if I were a man...”, bemoans cousin Beatriz in the Peruvian play, realizing that she is not taken seriously in a trivial conversation.
“Whore!”, accuses Cláudio as he throws his bride Hero to the ground, in front of the altar, poisoned by jealousy.
Shakespeare’s play dates back to 1598 – but today, in September 2018, Jennifer Kent is the only female director in the running for a Golden Lion at the Venice Festival. Her movie tells the story of a woman who seeks revenge after her family is murdered and she is raped. At the end of a performance for the press, a man says: “That’s shameful, you whore. You are disgusting!”.
...
Back to Teatro Coliseu, Carlos, Claret, Emilram, Ismael, Javier, Luis, Óscar, Pablo, Paul, Pietro, Ricardo, Rodrigo, Rómulo and Sergio take the stage. All men.
Where are the women?
Are you still with me? I want to hold your hand.
On the stage, the dresses suspended like hanged bodies descend and, upon reaching the male actors, Beatriz, Hero, Margarida and Úrsula come to life. Fantasy women. Representations. A common feature of Elizabethan theater. But it’s 2018.
While visibility is important, only representativity can assure access to spaces and rights: not only by women, but also by black men, black women, transvestites and transgenders, and anyone looking to exercise their right to speak. An unnegotiable right. Are you still with me?
Much Ado About Nothing is one of Shakespeare’s most hilarious plays, and there's so much going on behind that laughter. There is comedy in the actor dressed as El Chapulín Colorado, in reference to popularity of Shakespeare, who served as the greatest source of inspiration to Mexican actor Roberto Gómez Bolaños, better known as Chespirito, and creator of the superhero. There is comedy in the spontaneity of an actor who becomes outraged with his character’s choices, thus creating a sudden (and comical) interruption in the performance.
There is comedy, but there is also anguish in that laughter. Outrage.
A male actor interferes with the choices of a female character, even though his actions fall in line with the Maria da Penha Law and with the “Me Too” movement.
Who speaks, who listens, who understands? Whose hands reach out to hold one another? Is there an answer amid all the noise and confusion? As we left the Coliseu on the night of September 6, 2018, one suggestion echoed from the stage:
“When the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we see, no I won't be afraid, just as long as you stand by me. So darling, stand by me.
Stand by me.
Stand by me...
Stand by me.
Are you still with me?
André Venancio
Sesc Online Editor
