Six years ago, Brian Quijada and Teatro Vista teamed up to present Quijada’s solo show, Where did we sit on the bus?, an endearing and poignant portrait of growing up in suburban Chicago as the child of Salvadoran immigrants. The title of this show came from a question young Brian asked his third-grade teacher after learning about Rosa Parks’ story: where did Brown’s people like her family fit into the story? of America with race and oppression? Her teacher’s response (“They weren’t there”) is emblematic of the erasure of Latin history from our cultural narrative. Quijada’s story, filled with hip-hop, loops and poetry, combined his search to learn more about his heritage and the struggles of his working-class parents with his desire for his family to embrace his artistic dreams.
Somewhere beyond the border
Until 6/12: Wed-Sat 7.30pm, Sun 2pm; Windy City Playhouse, 3014 W. Irving Park, teatrovista.org, $49.50 (ten $15 Teatro for All tickets available for each performance on a first-come, first-served basis).
Now Teatro Vista returns to live performance under the new artistic direction of Lorena Diaz and Wendy Mateo with the world premiere of Quijada’s latest, Somewhere beyond the border. But this time, Quijada delves into the story of his mother and her dangerous journey from El Salvador through Guatemala and Mexico to the United States in the late 1970s, when the terrible civil war in his home country was intensifying. Using the framework of The Wizard of Oz and a score (also composed by Quijada) that combines cumbia, hip-hop, Mexican boleros and pop, it’s an uplifting, intelligent and moving show that bears its parallels to L. Frank Baum’s tale. (Although it’s worth noting that Baum was a racist who called for the genocide of Native Americans.)
Reina (Gabriela Moscoso) is a 17-year-old single mother in Chanmico, El Salvador, living with her mother, Julia (Claudia Quesada), and brothers, including good-natured Adán (Tommy Rivera-Vega). (As the narrator, Quijada points out, “Father figures don’t happen to be in this story.” she can pay a “coyote” 1,500 Mexican pesos for supposedly safe passage, she jumps at the chance, even if it means leaving her baby behind.
On her bus rides to Tijuana, she meets a Mexican farmer, Cruz (Rivera-Vega), who wants to study advanced farming techniques; a heartbroken innkeeper, Silvano (Andrés Enriquez), who decides to find his wife and children in Pittsburgh; and a nun, Leona (Amanda Raquel Martinez), who really wants to be a rock star, if only she can find the courage to leave the convent. So you see where this leads.
They don’t so much slow down as they struggle to stay out of sight of police and other officials. And the final crossing itself gives a glimpse of the heaviness and trauma of the experience. But Quijada’s musical, directed with passion and precision by Denise Yvette Serna and filled with exuberant performances, also celebrates the same camaraderie of adventure partners as The genius. In its deft reimagining of a familiar cinematic tale, it also reminded me of the 2017 16th Street Theater staging of In the beautiful north, Karen Zacarías’ adaptation of Chicagoan Luis Alberto Urrea’s novel about a young girl in Mexico whose town is taken over by cartels. Inspired by multiple viewings of The Magnificent Sevenshe decides to go north and find seven heroes to come back and kick ass.
The combination of fantasy and reality is played out with joy and sometimes heartbreak in Quijada’s songs, performed by himself (on guitar) and three other terrific musicians (Thee Ricky Harris is the musical director.) The ensemble simple yet evocative by Yvonne Miranda features a stacking series of platforms, with a pit in the center for the musicians and, yes, a painted yellow road on top, illuminated by the rainbows splashing and of desert landscapes by Liviu Pasare.
But the great gift of Quijada’s show is that he never gets lost in Oz. tropes. We see the similarities, sure, but what we mostly see are people desperately looking for a way to live with dignity and pursue their dreams. There is hope, disappointment, uncertainty and guilt for Reina. The latter mainly because she knows she won’t see her baby boy for a long time and she left her own mother to raise Fernando amid the growing storm clouds of war and oppression. Quijada doesn’t dive deep into the politics that tore his parents’ country apart. Instead, he lets Reina, her friends, and family speak (and sing) for themselves.
The show opens and ends with “Everyday Towns”, a hymn to the small places people live in and sometimes have to leave to find peace and prosperity (although Reina’s story makes it clear that none of these things are not guaranteed even for those who survive the crossing). Somewhere beyond the border offers one woman’s story, but the love, humor and warmth that Quijada brings to Reina’s tale comes across as a defiant retort to the xenophobic forces that dehumanize and criminalize brown people on our border and in our own everyday cities.