Recensão dos espetáculos  Zululuzo de Teatro Praga e Moçambique de mala voadorainfo:eu-repo/semantics/publishedVersio

Rayner, Francesca

Crítica aos espectáculos Zululuzu. Texto e direcção: Pedro Zegre Penim, José Maria Vieira Mendes e André e. Teodósio. Interpretação: André e. Teodósio, Cláudia Jardim, Diogo Bento, Jenny Larrue, Joana Barrios, Maryne Lanaro, Gonçalo Pereira Valves, Pedro Zegre Penim. Cenografia: João Pedro Vale e Nuno Alexandre Ferreira. Figurinos: Joana Barrios. Mestre costureira: Rosário Balbi. Música original: Xinobi. Luz: Daniel Worm d’Assumpção. Som: Sérgio Henriques. Produção: Teatro Praga e Bruno Reis. Produção executiva: Sara Garrinhas. Comunicação: Teatro Praga e Clara Antunes. Local e data de estreia: São Luiz Teatro Municipal, Lisboa, 15 de Setembro de 2016; Moçambique. Texto e direcção: Jorge Andrade com Bruno Huca, Isabél Zuaa, Jani Zhao, Jorge Andrade, Matamba Joaquim, Tânia Alves, Welket Bungué. Cenografia: José Capela. Figurinos: José Capela com execução de Aldina Jesus. Vídeo: ANIMA e Bruno Canas. Banda sonora: Rui Lima e Sérgio Martins. Luz: Rui Monteiro. Coreografia: Bruno Huca. Fotografias de cena: Bruno Simão e José Carlos Duarte. Imagem de divulgação: António MV. Vídeo de divulgação: Jorge Jácome e Marta Simões. Assistência: Francisco Campos Lima. Direcção de produção: Joana Costa Santos. Apoio à produção e comunicação: Jonathan da Costa. Gestão e programação: Vânia Rodrigues. Local e data de estreia: Teatro Rivoli, Porto, 16 de Setembro de 2016

Francesca Rayner

Directory of Open Access Journals

P A S S O S  E M  V O L T A  |  P E R F O R M A N C E  R E V I E W S2 8 1Phantasms of Africa: Teatro Praga’s Zululuzu and Mala Voadora’s MoçambiqueFRANCESCA RAYNERTítulo: Zululuzu. Texto e direcção: Pedro Zegre Penim, José Maria Vieira Mendes e André e. Teodósio. Interpretação: André e. Teodósio, Cláudia Jardim, Diogo Bento, Jenny Larrue, Joana Barrios, Maryne Lanaro, Gonçalo Pereira Valves, Pedro Zegre Penim. Cenografia: João Pedro Vale e Nuno Alexandre Ferreira. Figurinos: Joana Barrios. Mestre costureira: Rosário Balbi. Música original: Xinobi. Luz: Daniel Worm d’Assumpção. Som: Sérgio Henriques. Produção: Teatro Praga e Bruno Reis. Produção executiva: Sara Garrinhas. Comunicação: Teatro Praga e Clara Antunes. Local e data de estreia: São Luiz Teatro Municipal, Lisboa, 15 de Setembro de 2016.Título: Moçambique. Texto e direcção: Jorge Andrade com Bruno Huca, Isabél Zuaa, Jani Zhao, Jorge Andrade, Matamba Joaquim, Tânia Alves, Welket Bungué. Cenografia: José Capela. Figurinos: José Capela com execução de Aldina Jesus. Vídeo: ANIMA e Bruno Canas. Banda sonora: Rui Lima e Sérgio Martins. Luz: Rui Monteiro. Coreografia: Bruno Huca. Fotografias de cena: Bruno Simão e José Carlos Duarte. Imagem de divulgação: António MV. Vídeo de divulgação: Jorge Jácome e Marta Simões. Assistência: Francisco Campos Lima. Direcção de pro-dução: Joana Costa Santos. Apoio à produção e comunicação: Jonathan da Costa. Gestão e programação: Vânia Rodrigues. Local e data de estreia: Teatro Rivoli, Porto, 16 de Setembro de 2016.When both Teatro Praga and mala voadora occupy Lisbon theatres at roughly the same time, it’s already like having to choose between rival sound systems on the same street. When both shows have titles referencing the lusophone, the simultaneity becomes uncanny but also productive. Why have arguably the two most important theatre com-panies of the moment both chosen to construct performances around the Portuguese-speaking diaspora and what phantasms of this diaspora are being staged? Neither of the performances were directly about the lusophone, despite their titles. Neither were interested in examining what the different Portuguese-speaking nations might have in com-mon. Teatro Praga explored a love-hate relationship with the hegemonic P A S S O S  E M  V O L T A  |  P E R F O R M A N C E  R E V I E W S2 8 2ZULULUZU, DE PEDRO ZEGRE PENIM, JOSÉ MARIA VIEIRA MENDES E ANDRÉ E. TEODÓSIO, TEATRO PRAGA, 2016 (CLÁUDIA JARDIM), 2016, [F] ESTELLE VALENTEZULULUZU, DE PEDRO ZEGRE PENIM, JOSÉ MARIA VIEIRA MENDES E ANDRÉ E. TEODÓSIO, TEATRO PRAGA, 2016 (DIOGO BENTO), 2016, [F] ESTELLE VALENTEP A S S O S  E M  V O L T A  |  P E R F O R M A N C E  R E V I E W S2 8 3theatrical black box, while mala voadora deconstructed the claims of history to truth and accuracy and focused on the fallibility of documen-tary sources. Both, however, explored the difficulties of representing the lusophone onstage in a way that avoided cultural clichés and, in the process, commented on the exclusion of black actors and actresses from contemporary Portuguese stages.Near the beginning of Zululuzu, the surtitles announced that no theatre would enter this performance. This coincided with an actress addressing a romantic break-up speech to the black wall at the back of the stage. Like other Teatro Praga performances, Zululuzu interrogated the conventions of theatre and their continuing relevance in the present day and asked whether the modernist black box and its claim to give greater emphasis to the work of the performer still held true. When the black performer Jenny Larrue came onstage, the darkness foregrounded her invisibility rather than her visibility and this simple but effective stage device was used to illustrate how the black box obscures as much as it MOÇAMBIQUE, DIR. JORGE ANDRADE, MALA VOADORA, 2016 (BRUNO HUCA, MATAMBA JOAQUIM, JORGE ANDRADE, JANI ZHAO, ISABÉL ZUAA E WELKET BUNGUÉ), [F] JOSÉ CARLOS DUARTEP A S S O S  E M  V O L T A  |  P E R F O R M A N C E  R E V I E W S2 8 4makes present. Throughout the rest of the performance, several invec-tives were addressed to the black box and its normative pretensions and it was suggested towards the end of the performance that the days of the black box might be over. In a parodic sequence involving a well-known real estate company, they even tried to sell it off to the highest bidder. In its place, Teatro Praga placed the Pessoan idea of a “performance in people rather than acts”1 and the need for creative invention implicit in the term “Zululuzu”.The neologism “ZuluLuzu” covered a wide territory here. It ranged from Rosa Luxemburg to three-legged cats to Donna Haraway. All were summoned to reinvent the stage space and to question both notions of “Portugueseness” and “Africannness”. Brazil was evoked through the conventions of romantic song, but the focus was more often on Portugal and the Portuguese presence in Africa. The performance’s connection 1 “É um drama em gente, em vez de actos”. Quoted in the production programme.MOÇAMBIQUE, DIR. JORGE ANDRADE, MALA VOADORA, 2016 (WELKET BUNGUÉ, JORGE ANDRADE, BRUNO HUCA, MATAMBA JOAQUIM, ISABÉL ZUAA, TÂNIA ALVES [SENTADA], JANI ZHAO), [F] JOSÉ CARLOS DUARTEP A S S O S  E M  V O L T A  |  P E R F O R M A N C E  R E V I E W S2 8 5with Fernando Pessoa and his short time in Durban was deliberately tenuous. In a virtuoso sequence, André e. Teodósio provided a potted biography while Jenny Larrue lip-synched an accompaniment. One of the personalities convened under the banner of Zululuzu was the Internet, but its significance as a source of information about Pessoa was dismissed and the audience was told to go and look up a poem by Pessoa them-selves. What the performance did take from Pessoa was a black female heteronym, illustrating both the implicit racism of such a creation and its possibilities for contemporary resignification. Along with the stage presence of a black Fernanda, such mechanisms pointed to the history of exclusions of such figures or their exoticisation, rendering any attempt to know Africa and the African impossible. However, Teatro Praga, like mala voadora, pointed also to the limitations of identity politics in challenging such marginalization by invoking more complex intersectional identi-ties such as black and transsexual, Portuguese and queer or Portuguese and Turkish-speaking. Indeed, queer identities were as central to this performance as black identities, both in the lavish, camp costumes worn onstage, the vogueing and dancing and the centrality of the slogan “Queer Indigenization” on a banner that was unfurled during the performance. At the end, a large white inflatable was blown up and colours were projected MOÇAMBIQUE, DIR. JORGE ANDRADE, MALA VOADORA, 2016 (WELKET BUNGUÉ, JORGE ANDRADE, BRUNO HUCA, MATAMBA JOAQUIM, ISABÉL ZUAA, TÂNIA ALVES [SENTADA], JANI ZHAO), [F] JOSÉ CARLOS DUARTEP A S S O S  E M  V O L T A  |  P E R F O R M A N C E  R E V I E W S2 8 6onto it, referencing both the queer nation and the rainbow nation of South Africa, as well as the colour that the black box dogmatically bans from the stage. It was a fitting final image in a period of cultural and political redef-inition as Europe falls apart over questions of basic human rights and the economic and political bankruptcy of Angola creates a new generation of political prisoners and a neo-liberal wave of Portuguese returnees.The Angolan is referenced explicitly in Moçambique, as one of the black actors onstage says he is of Angolan descent, but such ethnic certainties are disrupted by the performers’ own self-definitions which include a white woman who identifies herself as Indian and two performers, one black and the other Chinese, who both identify themselves as primarily Portuguese. The multicultural cast is the great strength of Moçambique and their physi-cal energy carries the many sequences when the passing of time is suggested ingeniously by energetic collective dance routines. Such sequences were particularly effective in showing the to-and-fro movements of the peace process in Mozambique when, year after year, the process broke down and started again, with the dancers continuing to dance, increasingly exhaust-edly, until peace finally came. There was also an excellent sequence where the exportation of canned tomatoes to first Western and then Eastern bloc nations gave rise to a series of perfectly-executed sung advertising slogans MOÇAMBIQUE, DIR. JORGE ANDRADE, MALA VOADORA, 2016 (BRUNO HUCA, TÂNIA ALVES, ISABÉL ZUAA, WELKET BUNGUÉ, JORGE ANDRADE E JANI ZHAO), [F] JOSÉ CARLOS DUARTEP A S S O S  E M  V O L T A  |  P E R F O R M A N C E  R E V I E W S2 8 7in a variety of different languages and styles, illustrating the various foreign presences in post-colonial Moçambique that tore the country apart.The central conceit of Mozambique poked fun at the current vogue for documentary theatre and accused it of a certain modernist naivety. Linking the personal history of Jorge Andrade (or maybe not?) and the chequered history of Mozambique, Andrade began the performance with the story of a family connection with a tomato processing plant in the country and the offer made to him to take over the plant by his aunt and uncle. Nothing guaranteed that any of this was “true” or “real” and indeed later in the per-formance, Andrade indicated that the fallibility of memory had interfered with even his most treasured “personal” memory. The performers collec-tively imagined what might have happened if Andrade had in fact chosen to stay in Angola and made use of this conceit to focus on the difficulties of documenting the collective history of Mozambique and its relationship with Portugal from the perspective of the present. Black and white screen images were used to tell this story in stops and starts rather than in linear fashion, although the images of the civil war dead thrown into mass graves or simply left lying on the ground was a reminder that a focus on the frag-mentation of history-making and the difficulties of using realist forms, such as film to tell such a story, did not lessen the impact of real and har-rowing historical events such as these. The performance was built around the recurring national and political disasters and sordid political games that blighted the progress of Mozambique in the post-colonial period with a consistent emphasis on the ways in which such events might have been cast differently. The onstage performers worked together to create a story of what might have been, illustrating in this way the particular contribution that performance can make to the prismatic understanding of personal and collective histories. They showed how strongly-held beliefs and the desire for happy endings, for instance, or individual qualities and defects, influence the development of the stories we tell ourselves about history; as well as the centrality of imagination and creativity in negotiating a collec-tive version of events among very different individuals with different back-grounds and desires. Such differences made the construction of historical narrative a complex but energising experience that was constantly open to being reconstructed.As with Teatro Praga’s Zululuzu, the costumes in Moçambique were a delight, working with contemporary redefinitions of the use of tradi-tional materials and patterns. The area of costume design and confec-tion is an area that is often the subject of post-performance discussions P A S S O S  E M  V O L T A  |  P E R F O R M A N C E  R E V I E W S2 8 8among members of the audience but rarely makes its way into criti-cal reviews of performance. Yet in both these performances, costume played a central role in the invocation and then deconstruction of the narratives of Africa the performances created.In both these performances “Africa” and the “Africans” were a tool for the companies to experiment with stage languages other than the textual –whether music, dance or the visual arts. In Zululuzu, there was a sequence where the performers used a flipchart to illustrate the various clichés used when talking about Africa, such as starving children, zebras or Nelson Mandela, but neither performance tackled the question of the representa-tion of Africa directly. Instead, they used the “African” as a counterpoint to the “Portuguese”, a way of denaturalizing what is taken for granted as the DNA of the Portuguese experience and of Portuguese theatre. Zululuzu was perhaps more ambitious in its scope, although sometimes repetitive and uncoordinated, while Moçambique was tighter and more coherent as a performance. Zululuzu was primarily for theatre people (I saw some con-fused-looking Portuguese teachers who had obviously come expecting to see something about Fernando Pessoa), while Moçambique, because of its focus on recent history and historiography, appealed to a wider audience. Both performances were a good night out – bright and colourful with lots of humour. Both performances involved extensive research which they nevertheless wore lightly. Both performances are to be welcomed for pointing to new directions for Portuguese theatre in the wake of growing European disenchantment, but in order for such performances not merely to invoke and deconstruct the ghosts of Africa and their relationship with Portugal, it is necessary to reinforce the central message of including more black actors and actresses, as well as writers and directors, on Portuguese stages. Increased visibility does not equal increased power. As Peggy Phelan (1993: 10) once commented ironically, if increased visibility did lead to increased power, “then almost-naked young white women should be running Western culture”. However, as these performances suggest, a self-conscious exploration of questions of absence and presence can pro-mote greater diversity onstage and thus encourage a wider understanding of the contemporary in contemporary theatre.REFERENCEp h e l a n,  Peggy (1993) Unmarked: The Politics of Performance, London and New York, Routledge.

Phantasms of Africa: Teatro Praga's Zululuzu and Mala Voadora's Moçambique

Universidade do Minho: RepositoriUM

Phantasms	of	Africa:	Teatro	Praga’s	ZuluLuzo	and	mala	voadora’s	Moçambique		Título:	 Zululuzu.	 Texto	 e	 direção:	 Pedro	 Zegre	 Penim,	 José	 Maria	 Vieira	 Mendes	 e	 André	 e.	Teodósio.	 Interpretação:	 André	 e.	 Teodósio,	 Cláudia	 Jardim,	 Diogo	 Bento,	 Jenny	 Larrue,	 Joana	Barrios,	Maryne	Lanaro,	Gonçalo	Pereira	Valves,	Pedro	Zegre	Penim.	Cenografia:	João	Pedro	Vale	e	 Nuno	 Alexandre	 Ferreira.	 Figurinos:	 Joana	 Barrios.	Mestre	 Costureira:	 Rosário	 Balbi.	Música	Original:	Xinobi.	Luz:	Daniel	Worm	d’Assumpção.	Som:	Sérgio	Henriques.	Produção:	Teatro	Praga	e	Bruno	Reis.	Produção	Executiva:	Sara	Garrinhas.	Comunicação:	Teatro	Praga	e	Clara	Antunes	.Local	e	Data	de	Estreia:	São	Luiz	Teatro	Municipal,	Lisboa,	15	de	Setembro	de	2016.		Título:	Moçambique.	Texto e direção: Jorge Andrade com Bruno Huca, Isabél Zuaa, Jani Zhao, Jorge Andrade, Matamba Joaquim, Tânia Alves, Welket Bungué;. Cenografia: José Capela. Figurinos: José Capela com execução de Aldina Jesus. Video: ANIMA e Bruno Canas. Banda sonora Rui Lima e Sérgio Martins. Luz Rui Monteiro. Coreografia: Bruno Huca.. Fotografias de cena: Bruno Simão e José Carlos Duarte. Imagem de divulgação: António MV. Vídeo de divulgação: Jorge Jácome e Marta Simões. Assistência: Francisco Campos Lima. Direção de produção: Joana Costa Santos. Apoio à produção e comunicação: Jonathan da Costa. Gestão e programação: Vânia Rodrigues. Local e Data de Estriea: Teatro Rivoli, Porto 16 de Setembro de 2016 	When	 both	 Teatro	 Praga	 and	mala	 voadora	 occupy	 Lisbon	 theatres	 at	 roughly	the	same	time,	it’s	already	like	having	to	choose	between	rival	sound	systems	on	the	 same	 street.	 When	 both	 shows	 have	 titles	 referencing	 the	 lusophone,	 the	simultaneity	becomes	uncanny	but	also	productive.	Why	have	arguably	the	two	most	 important	 theatre	 companies	 of	 the	 moment	 both	 chosen	 to	 construct	performances	around	the	Portuguese-speaking	diaspora	and	what	phantasms	of	this	diaspora	are	being	staged?	Neither	of	the	performances	were	directly	about	the	 lusophone,	 despite	 their	 titles.	 Neither	were	 interested	 in	 examining	what	the	different	Portuguese-speaking	nations	might	have	in	common.	Teatro	Praga	explored	a	love-hate	relationship	with	the	hegemonic	theatrical	black	box,	while	mala	 voadora	 deconstructed	 the	 claims	 of	 history	 to	 truth	 and	 accuracy	 and	focused	 on	 the	 fallibility	 of	 documentary	 sources.	 Both,	 however,	 explored	 the	difficulties	of	representing	the	lusophone	onstage	in	a	way	that	avoided	cultural	clichés	 and,	 in	 the	 process,	 commented	 on	 the	 exclusion	 of	 black	 actors	 and	actresses	from	contemporary	Portuguese	stages.		 Near	 the	beginning	of	ZuluLuzo,	 the	 surtitles	announced	 that	no	 theatre	would	 enter	 this	 performance.	 This	 coincided	 with	 an	 actress	 addressing	 a	romantic	break-up	speech	to	 the	black	wall	at	 the	back	of	 the	stage.	Like	other	Teatro	Praga	performances,	Zululuzo	interrogated	the	conventions	of	theatre	and	their	continuing	relevance	in	the	present	day	and	asked	whether	the	modernist	black	box	and	 its	 claim	 to	 give	 greater	 emphasis	 to	 the	work	of	 the	performer	still	 held	 true.	 When	 the	 black	 performer	 Jenny	 Larrue	 came	 onstage,	 the	darkness	foregrounded	her	invisibility	rather	than	her	visibility	and	this	simple	but	effective	stage	device	was	used	 to	 illustrate	how	the	black	box	obscures	as	much	 as	 it	 makes	 present.	 Throughout	 the	 rest	 of	 the	 performance,	 several	invectives	were	addressed	to	the	black	box	and	its	normative	pretensions	and	it	was	suggested	towards	the	end	of	the	performance	that	the	days	of	the	black	box	might	 be	 over.	 In	 a	 parodic	 sequence	 involving	 a	 well-known	 real	 estate	company,	 they	even	tried	to	sell	 it	off	 to	the	highest	bidder.	 In	 its	place,	Teatro	Praga	placed	the	Pessoan	idea	of	a	“performance	in	people	rather	than	acts”	1and	the	need	for	creative	invention	implicit	in	the	term	“ZuluLuzo”		 The	neologism	“ZuluLuzo”	covered	a	wide	territory	here.	 It	ranged	from	Rosa	Luxemburg	to	three-legged	cats	to	Donna	Haraway.	All	were	summoned	to	reinvent	 the	stage	space	and	 to	question	both	notions	of	 “Portugueseness”	and	“Africannness”.	Brazil	was	evoked	through	the	conventions	of	romantic	song,	but	the	focus	was	more	often	on	Portugal	and	the	Portuguese	presence	in	Africa.	The	performance’s	 connection	with	 Fernando	Pessoa	 and	his	 short	 time	 in	Durban	was	deliberately	tenuous.	In	a	virtuoso	sequence,	André	e.	Teodósio	provided	a	potted	biography	while	Jenny	Larrue	lip-synched	an	accompaniment.	One	of	the	personalities	 convened	under	 the	banner	of	 ZuluLuzo	was	 the	 Internet,	 but	 its	significance	 as	 a	 source	 of	 information	 about	 Pessoa	 was	 dismissed	 and	 the	audience	was	 told	 to	 go	 and	 look	 up	 a	 poem	 by	 Pessoa	 themselves.	What	 the	performance	 did	 take	 from	 Pessoa	was	 a	 black	 female	 heteronym,	 illustrating	both	the	implicit	racism	of	such	a	creation	and	its	possibilities	for	contemporary	resignification.	 Along	 with	 the	 stage	 presence	 of	 a	 black	 Fernanda,	 such	mechanisms	 pointed	 to	 the	 history	 of	 exclusions	 of	 such	 figures	 or	 their	exoticisation,	rendering	any	attempt	to	know	Africa	and	the	African	impossible.	However,	 Teatro	 Praga,	 like	 mala	 voadora,	 pointed	 also	 to	 the	 limitations	 of	identity	politics	 in	 challenging	such	marginalization	by	 invoking	more	complex																																																									1	É	um	drama	em	gente,	em	vez	de	actos”.	Quoted	in	the	production	programme.	intersectional	identities	such	as	black	and	transsexual,	Portuguese	and	queer	or	Portuguese	 and	 Turkish-speaking.	 Indeed,	 queer	 identities	 were	 as	 central	 to	this	 performance	 as	 black	 identities,	 both	 in	 the	 lavish,	 camp	 costumes	 worn	onstage,	 the	 vogueing	 and	 dancing	 and	 the	 centrality	 of	 the	 slogan	 “Queer	Indigenization”	 on	 a	 banner	 that	was	 unfurled	 during	 the	 performance.	 At	 the	end,	 a	 large	white	 inflatable	was	blown	up	and	colours	were	projected	onto	 it,	referencing	both	the	queer	nation	and	the	rainbow	nation	of	South	Africa,	as	well	as	the	colour	that	the	black	box	dogmatically	bans	from	the	stage.	It	was	a	fitting	final	image	in	a	period	of	cultural	and	political	redefinition	as	Europe	falls	apart	over	questions	of	basic	human	rights	and	the	economic	and	political	bankruptcy	of	Angola	creates	a	new	generation	of	political	prisoners	and	a	neo-liberal	wave	of	Portuguese	returnees.								 The	Angolan	 Is	 referenced	explicitly	 in	Moçambique,	 as	one	of	 the	black	actors	 onstage	 says	 he	 is	 of	 Angolan	 descent,	 but	 such	 ethnic	 certainties	 are	disrupted	by	the	performers’	own	self-definitions	which	include	a	white	woman	who	identifies	as	Indian	and	two	performers,	one	black	the	other	Chinese,	who	both	identify	primarily	as	Portuguese.	The	multicultural	cast	is	the	great	strength	of	Moçambique	and	their	physical	energy	carries	the	many	sequences	when	the	passing	of	 time	 is	suggested	 ingeniously	by	energetic	collective	dance	routines.	Such	sequences	were	particularly	effective	in	showing	the	to-and-fro	movements	of	 the	 peace	 process	 in	Mozambique	when,	 year	 after	 year,	 the	 process	 broke	down	 and	 started	 again,	 with	 the	 dancers	 continuing	 to	 dance,	 increasingly	exhaustedly,	 until	 peace	 finally	 came.	 There	 was	 also	 an	 excellent	 sequence	where	the	exportation	of	canned	tomatoes	to	first	Western	and	then	Eastern	bloc	nations	gave	rise	to	a	series	of	perfectly-executed	sung	advertising	slogans	in	a	variety	 of	 different	 languages	 and	 styles,	 illustrating	 the	 various	 foreign	presences	in	post-colonial	Moçambique	that	tore	the	country	apart.	The	 central	 conceit	 of	Mocambique	poked	 fun	 at	 the	 current	 vogue	 for	documentary	theatre	and	accused	it	of	a	certain	modernist	naivety.	Linking	the	personal	history	of	Jorge	Andrade	(or	maybe	not?)	and	the	chequered	history	of	Moçambique,	 Andrade	 began	 the	 performance	 with	 the	 story	 of	 a	 family	connection	with	a	tomato	processing	plant	in	the	country	and	the	offer	made	to	him	to	take	over	the	plant	by	his	aunt	and	uncle.	Nothing	guaranteed	that	any	of	this	was	“true”	or	“real”	and	indeed	later	in	the	performance,	Andrade	indicated	that	 the	 fallibility	 of	 memory	 had	 interfered	 with	 even	 his	 most	 treasured	“personal”	 memory.	 The	 performers	 collectively	 imagined	 what	 might	 have	happened	 if	Andrade	had	 in	 fact	chosen	to	stay	 in	Angola	and	made	use	of	 this	conceit	 to	 focus	 on	 the	 difficulties	 of	 documenting	 the	 collective	 history	 of	Mozambique	 and	 its	 relationship	 with	 Portugal	 from	 the	 perspective	 of	 the	present.	Black	and	white	screen	images	were	used	to	tell	this	story	in	stops	and	starts	 rather	 than	 in	 linear	 fashion,	 although	 the	 images	 of	 the	 civil	 war	 dead	thrown	into	mass	graves	or	simply	left	lying	on	the	ground	was	a	reminder	that	a	focus	on	the	fragmentation	of	history-making	and	the	difficulties	of	using	realist	forms	 such	 as	 film	 to	 tell	 such	 a	 history	 did	 not	 lessen	 the	 impact	 of	 real	 and	harrowing	historical	events	such	as	these.	The	performance	was	built	around	the	recurring	national	and	political	disasters	and	sordid	political	games	that	blighted	the	 progress	 of	 Mozambique	 in	 the	 post-colonial	 period	 with	 a	 consistent	emphasis	on	the	ways	in	which	such	events	might	have	been	cast	differently.	The	onstage	performers	worked	together	to	create	a	story	of	what	might	have	been,	illustrating	in	this	way	the	particular	contribution	that	performance	can	make	to	the	 prismatic	 understanding	 of	 personal	 and	 collective	 histories.	 They	 showed	how	 strongly-held	 beliefs	 and	 the	 desire	 for	 happy	 endings,	 for	 instance,	 or	individual	qualities	and	defects,	influence	the	development	of	the	stories	we	tell	ourselves	about	history	as	well	as	the	centrality	of	imagination	and	creativity	in	negotiating	a	collective	version	of	events	among	very	different	 individuals	with	different	 backgrounds	 and	 desires.	 Such	 differences	 made	 the	 construction	 of	historical	 narrative	 a	 complex	 but	 energising	 experience	 that	 was	 constantly	open	 to	being	 reconstructed.	As	with	Teatro	Praga’s	ZuluLuzo,	 the	 costumes	 in	Moçambique	were	a	delight,	working	with	contemporary	redefinitions	of	the	use	of	traditional	materials	and	patterns.	The	area	of	costume	design	and	confection	is	 an	 area	 that	 is	 often	 the	 subject	 of	 post-performance	 discussions	 among	members	 of	 the	 audience	 but	 rarely	 makes	 its	 way	 into	 critical	 reviews	 of	performance.	Yet	 in	both	 these	performances,	 costume	played	a	 central	 role	 in	the	 invocation	 and	 then	 deconstruction	 of	 the	 narratives	 of	 Africa	 the	performances	created.					In	both	these	performances	“Africa”	and	the	“Africans”	were	a	tool	for	the	companies	to	experiment	with	stage	languages	other	than	the	textual	–whether	music,	 dance	 or	 the	 visual	 arts.	 In	 ZuloLuzo,	 there	 was	 a	 sequence	 where	 the	performers	 used	 a	 flipchart	 to	 illustrate	 the	 various	 clichés	 used	when	 talking	about	 Africa,	 such	 as	 starving	 children,	 zebras	 or	 Nelson	Mandela,	 but	 neither	performance	 tackled	 the	 question	 of	 the	 representation	 of	 Africa	 directly.	Instead,	they	used	the	“African”	as	a	counterpoint	to	the	“Portuguese”,	a	way	of	denaturalizing	 what	 is	 taken	 for	 granted	 as	 the	 DNA	 of	 the	 Portuguese	experience	and	of	Portuguese	theatre.	Zululuzo	was	perhaps	more	ambitious	 in	its	scope,	although	sometimes	repetitive	and	uncoordinated,	while	Moçambique	was	 tighter	 and	more	 coherent	 as	 a	 performance.	 ZuluLuzo	was	 primarily	 for	theatre	 people	 (I	 saw	 some	 confused-looking	 Portuguese	 teachers	 who	 had	obviously	 come	 expecting	 to	 see	 something	 about	 Fernando	 Pessoa)	 while	Moçambique,	because	of	its	focus	on	recent	history	and	historiography,	appealed	to	 a	 wider	 audience.	 Both	 performances	 were	 a	 good	 night	 out	 –	 bright	 and	colourful	with	 lots	 of	 humour.	 Both	 performances	 involved	 extensive	 research	which	they	nevertheless	wore	lightly.	Both	performances	are	to	be	welcomed	for	pointing	 to	 new	 directions	 for	 Portuguese	 theatre	 in	 the	 wake	 of	 growing	European	 disenchantment,	 but	 in	 order	 for	 such	 performances	 not	 merely	 to	invoke	and	deconstruct	the	ghosts	of	Africa	and	their	relationship	with	Portugal,	it	 is	 necessary	 to	 reinforce	 the	 central	message	of	 including	more	black	 actors	and	actresses,	as	well	as	writers	and	directors,	on	Portuguese	stages.	 Increased	visibility	 does	 not	 equal	 increased	 power.	 As	 Peggy	 Phelan	 (1993:10)	 once	commented	 ironically,	 if	 increased	visibility	did	 lead	 to	 increased	power,	 “then	almost-naked	 young	 white	 women	 should	 be	 running	 Western	 culture”.	However,	 as	 these	 performances	 suggest,	 a	 self-conscious	 exploration	 of	questions	 of	 absence	 and	 presence	 can	 promote	 greater	 diversity	 onstage	 and	thus	 encourage	 a	 wider	 understanding	 of	 the	 contemporary	 in	 contemporary	theatre.			PHELAN,	Peggy	(1993)	Unmarked:	The	Politics	of	Performance.	London	and	New	York:	Routledge.	

Phantasms of Africa: Teatro Praga’s Zululuzuand mala voadora’s Moçambique

http://repositorium.sdum.uminho.pt/bitstream/1822/55220/1/Cr%c3%adtica%20ZuluLuzo%20e%20Mo%c3%a7ambique.pdf

Phantasms of Africa: Teatro Praga’s Zululuzuand mala voadora’s Moçambique

Abstract

Similar works

Full text

Available Versions

Directory of Open Access Journals

Universidade do Minho: RepositoriUM