The great gay poet and playwright Federico García Lorca made a clear statement in the title of his most famous play. Bernarda Alba’s house. Spanish matriarch Bernarda Alba rules the roost with an iron will and a firm hand. In her house, there are laws that everyone must follow, including the five adult daughters living under her roof.
It is believed that her rules were equally strictly applied to her second husband, Antonio, who had recently passed away. His death only strengthens Bernarda’s control over the house, and she institutes an eight-year period of mourning, during which she will not allow her daughters to marry. She plans to lock down her house in mourning and lock the whole family inside together.
Eloquently designed and staged, the new production at José Zayas’ Gala Hispanic Theater, starring the troupe’s mainstay Luz Nicolás as Bernarda, draws us in as well, enveloping us in an atmosphere of strict control, yet captivated by vivid performances and satisfyingly precise direction.
Almost everything that happens on stage looks and moves as intended. Grisele González’s gorgeous, minimalist landscape design with blood red walls and carpet conveys the passion that swirls in this home. Rukiyah Henry-Fields finds important nuance in the all-black costumes of the entire female cast, and Hayley LaRoux’s sharp lighting brings out every detail and expression.
It may be suffocating inside Alba’s house, but the atmosphere is tense, punctuated by Koki Lortokipanidze’s original music. Zayas choreographs the cast like dancers, placing Bernarda’s five daughters around Bernarda in precise, eye-pleasing arrangements, whether they’re sitting in chairs, embroidering lace in unison, or huddled together to hear their mother’s latest decrees.
The actresses who play the daughters Angustias (María del Mar Rodríguez), Magdalena (Ana Malave), Amelia (Ixchel), Martirio (Giselle González), and Adela (María Coral) each have a certain amount of influence. As Adela, the youngest child despairing of her passion for the wrong man, Coral effectively enlivens the drama’s steamy finale, while González imbues the quietly submissive Martirio with a surprisingly rebellious spirit.
The great conflict between Alba’s daughters – over one man, of course – fuels a season’s worth of TV novel-like conflict over the course of the drama’s 90-plus minutes, directed by Nicholas, who plays the title role. Her Bernarda, impeccably cruel and exacting, with a well-controlled mania of oppression and abuse, stands in stark contrast to her own mother, Maria Josefa (Alicia Kaplan, delightfully suffering from dementia), who is quickly losing her farm.
In order to assist Bernarda or to exercise her domineering authority, the Albus family’s gossipy maid, Poncia, observes and reports on all scandals. In the show’s most entertaining performance, Evelyn Rosario Vega makes Poncia a gleeful, shit-stirring, essential tool of the tyrant, Speaker of the House, if you will.
She does Bernarda a favor by feeding her information, stroking her ego, and virtually lining her up to have her throat cut, all the while largely staying out of the fray and even considering herself her friend. More than once, however, Bernarda put Poncia squarely back in his place, reminding the servant that a dictator has no friends, only subjects.
That is, until the oppressed rise up, if only in time. Tragically, Lorca was assassinated by a nationalist fascist militia in 1936, ten years before this play, his last work, was performed.
Bernard Alba’s House (★★★★☆) runs through March 1 at the GALA Hispanic Theater, 3333 14th St. NW. The performance will be in Spanish with English subtitles. Tickets range from $27 to $52, with discounts available for seniors, military personnel, groups 10 and older, and patrons under 25. Call 202-234-7174 or visit: galatheater.org.
Source: Metro Weekly – www.metroweekly.com
