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Passion play tells old story of divine intervention By John
Moore Wednesday, December 05, 2001 |
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![]() Photo: Manuel Andrade Yolanda Ortega-Ericksen, Manuel R. Roybal Sr. and Hugo E. Carbajal |
There could be no better setting for Anthony J. Garcia's musical
folkdrama "The Miracle at Tepeyac" than the hollowed
shell of the once glorious St. Cajetan's Catholic Church, a 1926
landmark and Chicano refuge that was desanctified in the early
1970s and remodeled as a classroom and gathering place on the
Auraria campus. It is a dying
symbol to a west-side barrio population that was displaced to
make room for students. The setting mirrors the decaying southern
Colorado church depicted in Garcia's musical passion play, a poor
and desolate community where the church and spirit that protect
Padre Tomas Lopez (Hugo E. Carbajal) both are crumbling.
That story makes up the present-day half of "Miracle," which switches back and forth across 470 years to re-tell the famous story of the Virgen de Guadalupe, the patron saint of Mexico.
According to Catholic belief, the "brown virgin" first appeared to an Indian peasant named Juan Diego on Dec. 9, 1531, 10 years after Spain's conquest of Mexico, on Tepeyac hill near Mexico City. She orders him to tell the archbishop that a temple to her must be built at the site, which was previously the sanctuary of Tonantzin, the pagan Aztec goddess of fertility.
Divine intervention
Juan Diego (Jorge Reyes) meets compassionate but conflicted archbishop Zumarraga (the excellent Dan Hiester), who knows embracing the Indian peasant's word would surely result in lost lives because Spain's king did not even acknowledge the Indians as human. But after the archbishop is given physical evidence of divine intervention, he accepts the vision as a miracle. (The script deviates from legend, which holds that Juan Diego presents him with a poncho carrying an imprint of the Virgen Morena).
"Miracle at Tepeyac"
is a biennial production by the theater company El Centro Su Teatro
dating to 1976 and performed at St. Cajetan's since 1994. Audience
members are invited to join the cast each night for an opening
candlelight procession to the theater beginning at LTD's on West
Colfax Avenue between Lipan and Kalamath streets.
The opening number is a dramatic Aztec ritual dance performed
by four members of Grupo Tlaloc (directed by Carlos Casten~ada)
with El Centro's dozen-strong orchestra and chorus. The smoke,
conch shells and foot rattles complement the pulsating sound of
drums, drawing the pounding of hearts together into one rhythm.
Heartbreaking parallel
The parallel modern story and its political reality are heartbreaking, with Father Tomas' impoverished church being occupied by a growing number of young immigrants fleeing persecution in countries such as Guatemala and El Salvador, where artists, union officials and teachers face death if they return. It is only after a squatting AIDS patient dies and a Gethsemane-like self-examination that Tomas comes to understand that suffering can be overcome only by taking responsibility for ending it.
The play is spoken primarily in English, and the music is sung primarily in Spanish, with certain portions expressed in both. It is not necessary to be bilingual to understand either, or to appreciate the ritualism on display. The lack of body mikes in the cavernous room is more of a barrier than the language. Not being bilingual, I can't claim to understand every nuance or subtext, but I know I got something out of it because I felt it in my bones.
That's mostly because of the universality of music. The intoxicating sounds of "Miracle at Tepeyac," arranged by Yamal Rima, are reverential and powerful, sweeping score, some of it predating Columbus, includes modern arrangements of traditional songs such as "Bendito" and the haunting funeral ballad "Virgencita Morena," as well as contemporary songs borrowed from composer Daniel Valdez (star of the film "Zoot Suit").
Spectacular musicianship
The acting is uneven but the singing, dancing and musicianship are spectacular, with Carbajal, and Yolanda Ortega-Ericksen (as church manager Maria Galbadon) and Fanny Andrade (as a squatter) sounding particularly impressive.
Like the desanctified setting, Garcia never makes a definitive Christian stand as to the source of his indigenous apparition. To him, the virgin is simply the protector of all who are poor and weak in spirit. Still, when the spectacle of the evening is taken in all at once, it's hard not to think of witnessing "Miracle at Tepeyac" as anything but a religious experience.