by Isaure Cointreau

At the center for contemporanean art, the last play of F. Garcia Lorca will be performed with two leading ladies of the Spanish theatre. The Matadero center will be enjoying the performance of Nuria Espert and Rosa Maria Sarda in “La casa de Bernarda Alba”.

They will star in this famous theatrical tragedy about the mourning of a husband. Bernarda Alba is the main character and as she suffers being a widow she demands that her daughters do not leave the house to pay homage to their long gone father.

Lorca had written this rural drama in 1936 wishing to denounce the Spanish traditionalist society. Therefore the story is set in Andalusia. Bernarda is tyrannical imposing eight years of sequestration upon her five daughters and two servants. All women in the cast, none of them hardly knew any man. Angustia is the only one who got engaged before this tragic fate, but Adela the youngest secretly meets the fiancé. This little twist is what leads the story.

What is this really about? To be sure it has a hidden purpose in the lines written by the famous playwright and poet, aiming for a severe criticism of moral and religious prejudices.

Therefore from the 10th of September until the 25th of October you will be able to meet with the finesse of Lorca and the wonderful act of N. Espert and R. M. Sarda. Enjoy!

by Isaure Cointreau

It is five o’clock and we are inside the Teatro Real waiting for the last minute tickets to be sold. People are all anxious to see if they will or not be having a seat for tonight’s show, sitting in the hallway for the ticket office to open. At ten past five the fist couple to be served appears a grin on their face and say:” there is only one ticket left” while taking their leave. All the rest of us stay motionless and hope for the best. The file continues to move and it seems that our fear was just a joke. Let they be damned!

When our turn arrives, the cashier attends to our demand. We want the best for the best price. What is there left? She simply answers, pointing at a map of the theatre our seats: first row, first flour. My friend and I can’t believe it and we gaze at each other performing a kangaroo dance while smiling hysterically. For eight euros (instead of ninety-eight) we will be watching Mozart’s masterpiece, the marriage of Figaro.
After a little run in order to exchange shorts with dresses, trainers with pumps, we were off to La Latina.

Looking for a little piece of quiet in the city, the main idea was to go Plaza Paja. However on the way over there, out of the blue came what we were looking for. Walking down the C/ de la Pasa, a beautiful little plaza came just on to our left. Silence, shade and a café were happily presenting us to a table. Children running around and the wind blowing in the trees’s branches, what a wonder!

Although we would have stayed longer, after a short coffee break in order to refuel as to attend the four hour performance, we were off to the Opera House. The show started at seven O’clock sharp and a few minutes before that we were kindly conducted to our seats. If only our neighbors had known how we got those tickets, they would have screamed for scandal. We just felt very lucky.
This Opera was based on Beaumarchais’s work that goes by the same name. W.A. Mozart had written it for the Austrian court and although the Emperor yawned throughout the first performance in 1786, it is nowadays part of the timeless classic masterpieces.

This is a wonderfully entertaining opera-buffa, as in being of a comical character and sung from the beginning until the end. The ouverture is very famous for its presto (rapid rhythm) and any one would recognize it instantly. However, the magnificent performance of the orchestra is a wonderful introduction to the show and sets you on the right tempo to enjoy what goes behind the curtain. While the blinds are lifted up from the stage, Figaro and his betrothed, Susanna, are the first protagonists to meet with the audience. Through magnificent vocalisms they sing their happiness upon the upcoming wedding and their future projects. However, while he his counting inches as to calculate where to put the nuptial bed, Susanna on her part doesn’t want to live in this room as it is too close to the master’s quarters, afraid she would have to bear his frivolous virtue.

The production was fantastic from the beginning until the end. Not one minute had I thought I would be better off elsewhere. I was like a sponge trying to remember every detail, sound, image and rhythm. However, adding to this I can promise you laughter is also part of the emotions the show will inspire you.
A few things stoke me as extraordinary modern, witty and delightful. While the vocals were going on, some of the themes or topics would be winked at by the production. When Figaro cried his love he suspected of being unfaithful, he blamed all women: “Look at them, women, who torture our hearts…” the lights inside the Opera were then turned on, inviting the audience to look at women in the public. Another time during the garden rendez-vous between the count and the countess in disguise, a delicate flower perfume was to be sent in the whole theatre, and the spectator would once more feel as if being part of the show.

The sets were beautifully made and various. I would have gladly stopped time and try to depict it with some aquarelle paint. The décor were all put together as to help the public imagine and feel closer to the story, and in that purpose details were not neglected. Gardens, palace rooms and chambers, everything was superb, as if they were all composed as a painting by Francois Boucher. However, though I don’t despise minimalism at all it is sometimes nicer to see a good set on stage.

My only regret that night was that apart from witnessing the splendor of Mozart’s gift for music and the talent of those performing before me, it would only last the time of the show, and when the lights would fire up again it would all be part of the past, as if it where only a dream. Though what a wonderful dream it was.

by Jeanne Reidy

It wasn’t that we were necessarily seeking out some English entertainment, but when we realized that the West Side Story would be performed in English (and subtitled in Spanish) as part of Madrid’s Veranos de la Villa 2009 festival, my sister, brother-in-law and I got tickets right away. Even though I was excited to see my favorite musical performed in such a unique setting, I have learned that in Spain, you never know what you’re going to get, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Luckily, I was most pleasantly surprised.

The venue was incredible. El Escenario Puerta del Ángel is located in Casa de Campo and on a map, looked a bit complicated to get to. One switch of a metro line and a short walk and we found ourselves at a place I never knew existed. We didn’t know was to expect- an indoor theatre or an outdoor one for the summer festival or assigned seats or general admission or elegant theatre attire or a casual summer night out. We were surprised on all accounts.

First of all, Veranos de la Villa is an annual festival in Madrid starting at the end of June through mid-August. Each night, at various venues around the city, music, theatre, dance, musicals, concert poetry, movies, flamenco and circus acts are performed.

West Side Story, directed by Joe McKneely (music directed by Donald Chan), has been performed in Tokyo, Paris and now Madrid in celebration of 50 years since it debuted on Broadway.

The venue is an open air theatre in a giant landing space in the largest park in Madrid. I’m not quite positive if it is there year round or built for special events like this festival but I would imagine it is the latter. To take a break from the show, you simply need to glance to your left to see the western-facing side of Madrid’s Royal Palace and Cathedral, gently lit after sunset. There wasn’t a bad seat in the house- which was surprisingly not filled on the Saturday night. Apparently subtitled classic American musicals are not so appealing to the modern-day madrileño.

When we saw the start time of the show, 21:30, we couldn’t quite understand why a Spanish production would play through the dinner hours. We had just planned on grabbing an extra late dinner after the show. However, upon arrival, we noticed several vendors selling ready-to-eat fruit, bocadillos, snacks and drinks. This wasn’t ball park food either. You could enjoy a glass of wine and some fresh fruit on a leather chair under an umbrella before the show or during intermission. Furthermore, there were jewelers and other vendors for admiring. It seemed like they had thought of bringing every detail from an indoor venue outdoors to the middle of the park. Special appreciation goes to whoever thought to provide twice as many women’s bathrooms as men’s.

The show itself was impressive as well. The singing didn’t blow me away but the dancing most definitely did. The cast wasn’t huge but their stamina made it seem like there were twice as many actors. In typical Spanish fashion, the show started about twenty minutes late and the intermission took longer than planned.

You may be wondering, as we did, how to “subtitle” a musical. There was small screen hanging above the stage which was working double time to get the lyrics and dialogue across at the same time they were being said. I was surprised how successful a method it was actually. Because I basically have the lyrics of West Side Story completely memorized, I tried to spend most of the show watching the subtitles. To no surprise, some of the dialogue and lyrics don’t exactly translate across languages. For instance, some jokes in the show that should get an immediate reaction, did not come across in the Spanish version and if they did, due to the subtitles, the laughs were a bit delayed. I had to giggle a bit, as you can imagine, when reading the subtitles for “When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way, from your first cigarette, ‘til your last dying day”. Regardless, I think the madrileños got the idea and enjoyed a taste of American theatre. I know I did.

For a moderately priced ticket, the evening was well worth it. I strongly recommend taking advantage of this event or the rest of what Veranos de la Villa 2009 has to offer. I’m planning on it.

West Side Story plays until July 5th. http://www.esmadrid.com/veranosdelavilla/

by Stuart Yochem

Have you ever thought that, through song, you could shed light on the creation of the world, understand the nature of human beings, communicate with spirits of the past, or even contact a family of gorillas? Though the first three may be plausible for some of you, I know that I have never thought it possible to contact a gorilla family…nor have I wanted to! (Gorillas can be pretty violent). It seems however that if you are a member of the Fang Tribe of Equatorial Guinea, you can do all of these things. Interested? This Friday evening at 7:30, Madrid’s Auditorio Nacional de Música will be hosting a performance called Mèndzang mé yè Cavan, featuring a number of famous Fang authors and performers. The show, a part of the Auditorium’s Ethnic Music Cycle, will delve into the oral tradition of the Fang and enlighten people on what it is to use song as a primary communication device. So first off, as many of you are as ill informed about the Fang as I, let’s look into the tribe’s past and understand how their oral tradition has led them to monkey calling.

The Fang are a Bantu-speaking tribe who currently live in Equatorial Guinea, Gabon and Cameroon but originated in northern Sudan. Centuries ago, the tribe began an exodus that lasted generations. They journeyed through Asia, drifted across the Red Sea, spent some time in Egypt, meandered through the nearby deserts and savannas and eventually landed in Guinea in the late eighteenth century. The migration was not over, folks. Following their stay in Guinea, they took up life in the forest, a symbol of great importance in Fang culture. It is ingrained in the spirit of the Fang to respect the forest, as a giant tree called the Àdzàp acts as a yearlong barrier to entrance into their new home. After a short four generations, it seems that the Àdzàp tree has given most tribe members the green light. Final destination: Equatorial Guinea, where today the Fang remain the country’s numerically largest ethnic group.

Along with their forest dwelling, the Fang base their unity on a keen ability to keep up with oral tradition. The communal house of the word, translated in Bantu as the Abáá, is located at the center of the village and is used as a communication channel. In the house lives various instruments, including the Nkúú, a large sacred drum, the Mbeña a vertical drum made of skinned antelope, and the Olonga, a hollow trunk used to communicate in the forest. The Olonga’s sound reaches up to a whopping five kilometers! What better reason to ditch your costly cell phones and invest in a more original device to call friends?

Besides having an adept ability to communicate with distinct instruments, the Fang have some other rituals that have stirred up some heated debates among both tribe members as well as outsiders. The most controversial of the rituals is the sacrifice of widows. In the Fang culture, after a chief dies his wives must undergo sacrifice. I don’t imagine that either westerners coming into the country, nor feminists, nor any woman in her right mind would agree with this custom! María Nsué, 63, is an actor in the upcoming performance and went as far as to write a book about the atrocious practice. The book, called Ekomo (1985), tells the story of a Fang woman who breaks taboos by speaking out after the death of her husband. Ekomo is the first novel written and published by an Equatoguinean woman.

Now that we have a synopsized knowledge of the Fang culture, we can go into this Friday’s performance with at least a basic understanding of what’s going on. Among the performers include the above-mentioned María Nsué as well as Donato Ndongo-Bidyogo. Nsué, who was born in 1945 Equatorial Guinea to Fang parents, immigrated to Spain when she was eight-years-old. In Spain, she studied literature and discovered a great passion for writing. She returned to Equatorial Guinea where she worked for the country’s Ministry of Culture and Education. Today, Nsué is a permanent resident in Madrid. In the performance, Nsué will act as a storyteller and use song and several Fang instruments to express the actions and emotions of the tribe’s people.

Alongside Nsué will be Donato Ndongo-Bidyogo, 58, who is also native to Equatorial Guinea and today is a renowned writer and journalist. Ndongo is a member of the movement of young, Afro-descended authors who have contributed their African experience to Hispanic culture. The most acclaimed of his works include The History and Tragedy of Equatorial Guinea (1977) and The Spanish Commerce with Africa (1980). Besides his fantastic list of written works, Ndongo has also served as the adjunct direction for Nuestra Señora de África de Madrid (Our Lady of Africa in Madrid) and Centro Cultural Hispaño-Guineano de Malabo (the Center for Hispanic-Guinean Culture in Malabo). Ndongo will be act as an interpreter in the performance.

Nsué and Ndongo will be accompanied by several other actors and performers playing various different Fang instruments. The storyline will surely leave audience members sitting on the edge of their seats as a war breaks out between humans and monkeys. The theme of the performance is memory and how to recover the past through song. Songs include the abduction, the exodus of the gorillas, and the nanny.

Those of you out there who are seeking a glimpse into a lifestyle far different than your own, this may be your best bet. Prepare to be transported to Indigenous Africa!

by Alexandra Atiya

Some things don’t translate. I laughed a little when I saw that enormous poster up in La Latina – “LA MEJOR COMEDIA DE OSCAR WILDE – LA IMPORTANCIA DE LLAMARSE ERNESTO” – which, unless I’m missing something, means The Importance of Being Named Ernesto. 

I was waiting in the Carnet Joven office, holding my slightly too large picture of myself, and I was flipping through an issue of Teatro Madrid. I saw a photograph of a man and a woman on stage, each holding a masque. She had wild curly hair and a long brown robe. He had a black robe and he held his arms wide.  Los Cantos de Canterbury: Un Musical del Siglo XIII , it said. The Canterbury Tales? The 13^th-century musical? In a production, that, as the article advertised, contains “a dose, let’s say, of pagan religiosity”?  This sounds like a Middle-Spanglish disaster waiting to happen.

No, not Middle-Spanglish at all. A very fortuitous event. The show only goes up on Mondays in the Teatro de Bellas Artes. (Note:  Teatro de Bellas Artes is not the same as the Circulo de Bellas Artes, although it is right next door.) I got there last Monday at around 8:15 and a woman—a complete stranger—simply gave me a ticket. She said that she had too many. I tried to offer her some money in return, but she said, “No, no, te lo regalo.”

Quite happily I bounced down the steps and into the theater. A good seat too! The show started – a woman came onstage pretending to talk on her cell phone. She was dressed in black, and she was sitting on a large, sloping piece of wood. She said that she was excited to read the new book she had been given as birthday present – the book of The Canterbury Tales, with the Ellesmere miniatures as illustrations.

That’s how it started. Then, of course, it went directly into the Middle Ages and never returned to the present day.  Six men came onstage. They were all musicians, as was the sole woman.  They recounted part of the General Prologue and four tales in song. Between songs they narrated the stories in Spanish. The large, sloping piece of wood that the woman had been sitting on in the introduction turned out to be an enormous illuminated manuscript, and one man turned the pages as the stories progressed. 

I particularly enjoyed the retelling of The Manciple’s Tale. The Manciple tells a story about the gossiping crow. The crow, once a white bird, became black after he offended Apollo with gossip about his lover (gossip which was all true) and angry Apollo tore all his feathers out. A long white glove, with long pointed fingers, served as the bird. When the crow turned black, the narrator pulled off the glove and turned it inside out. Inside it was black. In a moment of violence, long red ribbons came loose from the eyes of the masques. The instruments included a lute, a small harp, a flute, a few different drums, and of course, the singers’ voices. The actor, as the story required, repeated again and again “cuervo” – and for reasons unknown to me, the word is more dramatic than its English equivalent.

So, go if you can (and if you like medieval music) – next three Mondays, at 8:30, in the Teatro de Bellas Artes. 

by Isaure Cointreau

Last Thursday at 6h30 my roommate and I met up in front of the Teatro Real to get our tickets for the night’s show. “Romeo and Juliet” was then performed by the tremendous Stuttgart Ballet. Thus, after twenty minutes of queuing and a long chat over coffee, the stage curtains opened on the lively streets of Verona. Before our eyes Shakespeare’s tragedy was exquisitely illustrated by dance and music filling us with a fluttering feeling of delight. This classic piece had everything of a must see. Hence, the moving music of Prokofiev, the thrilling choreography, the fit dancers in stretched pants, and the drama would make any girl cry for more.

Other than the fact that we loved the show, we loved the price we had paid for it. Thanks to the “ultimo minuto” discount my ticket was 1.95 euros instead of 95. Isn’t life sweet? When the cashier asked for the payment saying the amount out loud I thought I hadn’t heard properly and even when she repeated it, I still thought my Spanish comprehension was at his worst. Thus after different states of shock going through incomprehension, gaze and overexcitement, we finally took our tickets and left the impatient sales assistant.  

Our seats at first were not bad but we could only see half of the stage between rows of different heads. However once the music started and the lights started to dim, we spotted empty chairs up front. In a few seconds we were taking our bags and moving up to the 1^st class seats, no questions asked.

During the first intermission we went out on the terrace to enjoy the sunset on the Palacio Real. The place looked surreal in this light, and adding to this the view of the plaza, it couldn’t feel more magical. When we went back inside, God knows how we ended up there, but we were in a private salon surrounded by glasses of wine and canapés. Assured that we were allowed to feast ourselves, we started to enjoy what was offered. We came back at the 2^nd intermission, though we then understood that we were really lucky to be there. While having a sip of Champagne, Cecile pointed out that people were being checked in showing their tickets to a doorman. Though it didn’t disturb our enjoyment, we stayed as discrete as we could.

The last half hour was intense. It felt like I was not the only one enjoying myself in there, as if we were all in communion with what was going on stage. As if the public was trying to grasp every minute of the Ballet, trying to remember every move and every sound of it, the eyes of the spectators were drawn towards the two protagonists. In the end, while Romeo and Juliet were dying, the man sitting next to me was silently crying and I was desperately wishing the show would go on for ever. However, although all good things have to end, the magic that happened in the Opera House stayed with me all night.

In other words, the show was an enchantment.

by Alexandra Atiya

A very cool thing to look out for this week: Cómo hacerse un cuerpo sin órganos.  It’s a “RadioPerformance” by Ángeles Oliva and Toña Medina, the two directors of the Experimental Radio Lab at La Casa Encendida and former presenters and writers for Radio 3.  

I discovered them while writing a piece for radio-themed issue of an online magazine in New York.  What they do is quite unusual.  They started doing “RadioPerformance” a couple of years ago, and they have a distinctive style, even though they’ve only produced two performance pieces so far.  They incorporate elements of theater into a live radio show.  In their last show, they used balloons, water, bottles, talking dolls, high heels, old radios, and tape recorders (among other things) to create live sound effects while they narrated stories about fear. 

This particular piece, which will also include the work of four other radio-artists, is based on a radio program that Antonin Artaud made in 1947.  That program, which you can also listen to in the Artaud exhibit in the basement of Casa Encendida, was a little strange, well, more than a little strange, and it was censored.  It never aired in his lifetime. 

I’m curious to see how they’ll reinvent it. 

The show goes up this Thursday and Friday (May 21 & 22) at La Casa Encendida at 10pm. 

by Martin Quinn

There’s good and bad points to living in a big city when the biggest place you’ve ever lived consists of less than 80,000 people. Well that’s just the nature of Ireland really. Small towns labelled as cities with a limited amount of things to do. Still, there’s plenty of fresh air and the countryside’s only a cycle ride away, two things sadly lacking in Madrid. Although in fairness, the Cercanias can get you out to the Sierra pretty sharp.

Having a limited choice of activities is what brought me to foreign climes, well that and the 250-odd annual days of rain. Unless you live in Galway, the most international of places in Ireland or the handful of actual Irish cities your international experiences aren’t going to be many. Back in my own hometown Ballymena, many people’s idea of a foreign experience is the annual boozy fortnight in Gran Canaria/Ibiza/Santa Ponsa where you don’t see the sun once due to the dozen hangovers that you have to sleep off. Other locals have been known to get nosebleeds after crossing the town line and travelling too far out the Antrim Road. So the prospect of a city with half the total population of Ireland and having so much to do and see for me is exciting. And an African circus in the middle of it sounds, as they say round my way, the ticket.

An African Circus you say? Think about how many animals it must have! Actually, none thankfully. Animal-free circuses are popular these days thanks to the enlightened modern opinions of many folks concerning trailing caged giraffes, elephants or zebras half-way round Christendom when they should be on the Savannah. Cirque du Soleil has also cemented the popularity of the choreographed, dance-focused circus. And happily Mother Africa doesn’t have 17 clowns fitting into a mini either. On the contrary, there was only one clown-esque act the whole night. The show in Teatro Circo Price, close to Embajadores Metro was a mixture of dance, acrobatics and difficult-to-watch contortionism. The sight of Lazaraus Gitu Mwangi, who can bend his legs over his shoulders, put a cigarette in his mouth with his toes then light it with said toes will surely make you squirm.

This contortionism was one of the highlights of the show but there were many others. The aforementioned clown act was in the form of a drunken chef doing the age old plate-balancing and spinning act. It’s a staple of most circuses but keeping 40-odd plates reeling around steadily needs a lot of concentration and is always good for a laugh. There was also some great singing parts from a girl with a lovely voice, backed up with more girls with lovely voices, African drums and a talented horn player. It has to be said that many parts of the show didn’t seem to have that much to do with Africa (Dancers dressed as builders? More Village People than Heart of Africa) though the dress sense became very much African during the second half of the show.

The show, which lasted two hours has plenty for everyone to enjoy from my neighbours’ hyperactive, disco dancin’ three year-old niece to the old guy that was sat on the other side of me who kept shouting “Bravo!” Luckily by the end of the show, he had moved away to shout “Bravo, Bravo,Bravo!” etc, etc in someone else’s ear. Photography was prohibited unfortunately though the brochure has a good collection of snaps showing the highlights. The circus is made up of performers from across the continent and is directed by Winston Ruddle, from Zimbabwe and Hubert Schober, a German. It is choreographed by Simon Nene and Cynthia Akanga, a former employee of the more famous Cirque du Soleil.

Unfortunately the final Spanish show was on Easter Sunday so you’ll have to wait until next year. They tour regularly so you may well have the opportunity to see them next year with a few more additions. I suspect it’s possibly put a few ideas into the mind of our aformentioned three year-old Colombian dance fanatic.

by Ruth Kenny

“Duo para un Bailarin y una excavadora”

This morning I was lucky enough to stumble upon the french compagnie Beau Geste’s offering for Carnaval in Plaza Mayor. Transport exceptionnel was a bizarre production lasting just over 30 minutes and featuring a paso doble like i’ve never seen before…and I LOVE dance in all its forms and varieties.. ( more on my obsession with Fama- A Bailar anon)!

Created by Dominique Boivin and performed by Philippe Priasso and William Defresne, the spectacle involved the dancer performing an acrobatic, freestyle dance centered around the digger’s front loader. The dancer displayed grace, poise and an unfathomable sobriety throughout and his movements really did impress the onlookers who were forthcoming in their cries of “Que bien”… and “fenomenal”

The piece itself is open to interpretation on many levels, for instance it could be indicative of the symbolic harmony of man and the machine. For me it provided a Sunday surprise in the midst of the madding crowd at the Plaza Mayor..

by Katie Chavez

A new entertainer has come to town, swooping down from Barcelona. His name is Luis Pardo, and the trade he plies isn’t your standard rabbit-out-of-a-hat magician’s brew. He’s a mentalist (we’ll get to that later), and a resourceful one at that – the audience doubles has his prop.

During his introduction (this is before he almost shoots himself in the head or pulls a string through his neck), Luis Pardo says that he hopes to change your perception of the world. If you’re a skeptic, he hopes to make you more open, perhaps, to the powers of the human mind. Ever heard the “mind over matter” aphorism? Yeah, me too. Well Mr. Pardo takes his money and puts it where his mouth is.

Apparently he won an award as “mentalista of the year” in 2004. So we’ll call him a Goya award winner of mentalists. And what is a mentalist, anyway? According to Wikipedia, “Mentalism is an ancient performing art in which its practitioners, known as mentalists, use mental acuity, principles of stage magic, hypnosis and/or suggestion to present the illusion of mind reading, psycho kinesis, precognition, clairvoyance or mind control.” In other words, it’s a performing art with a tradition dating back to the 16^th century, meant to entertain and astonish, and to make one wonder, maybe just a little bit, about the true extent of life’s possibilities.

While some may confuse it with being a psychic, mentalism is different. A psychic sees into your mind, a mentalist claims to control it. A psychic professes to have extra-ordinary capabilities, while a mentalist only says that he trained very hard. From what I can tell, “mentalism” is more about control and discipline than flash and flair. As Mr. Pardo points out (and as we all already know), we only use a very small portion of our brain’s potential power. And of the portion that is used, an even smaller portion of that involves our conscious mind. What Mr. Pardo does, it seems, is to expand and to master those portions. The resulting show, while sometimes predictable and ho-hum, is also sometimes mind-boggling.

The mise-en-scene of Kasual_mente could use some revamping — flash and flair it certainly isn’t: upon entering the theatre we see a red backdrop, a small patch of screen to the right of the stage on which we see live feed of performer and audience throughout the night. A small table, a chair, and a few large black box-like objects complete the scene. These boxes are covered with Mr. Pardo’s logo for this particular show: a brain with a large question mark with a comic -type explosion coming out of it. (Holy mind games, Batman!) The stage is small and the setting intimate: one can easily see the other members of the audience and Mr. Pardo himself. The camera serves as a cinematic close-up of sorts, allowing us to examine each prop and determine that no; it does not appear to be a fake.

The show itself plays out like standard magician’s entertainment with a dramatic arc from smaller surprises to increasingly astonishing tricks, all of which involves manipulating members of the audience, inanimate objects, and his own body using only his mind. If you’re expecting innovative dramaturgy, this isn’t it. There are, however, a number of events that take place that make this show interesting to witness. I’ve seen a video of Balinese dancers in trance poke giant sticks through their cheeks and removing them without a trace on the skin, and knew a man from Mali whose father could walk from Providence, RI, to Boston, MA, faster than the time it took to take a train. This is just to inform the reader that I am not necessarily skeptical about the human mind and its possibilities.

So you should take that with a grain of salt when I say that what impressed me about Kasual_mente was Mr. Pardo’s ability to work that hard. The whole show was in many ways a simple repetition of the same idea: anyone can do this; everyone has mental capabilities that they don’t bother to use. But we of the western civilization persuasion don’t usually do much more with our minds than perhaps getting into medical school to impress mom and dad or cranking out that novel. I’m not saying that we are not a civilization of noble pursuits (not that the notion of “western civilization” as a cohesive unit exists anyway), but rather that we are trained to think on the straight and narrow, so to speak. We more often accept our limitations than test them, so I do find it interesting to witness people who attempt to step beyond that boundary. This show is not particularly impressive in any way except the abilities of its performer, and it knows that. The sound quality was poor, the light design unimaginative, the film footage grainy, and the spoken dialogue portions often repetitive and trite. But the point is somehow I managed to stay engaged and entranced the whole time anyway.