la rebelión consiste en mirar una rosa

hasta pulverizarse los ojos


Alejandra Pizarnik


ETIQUETAS

Fanny Arjona, cantante lírica y actriz: “El público está aburrido y carente de opciones” / entrevista de Ana María Hernández Guerra , Venezuela Sinfónica, Caracas, 5 de noviembre de 2016

 



A propósito de la culminación de la temporada de obras y musicales en el país, la actriz y cantante lírica Fanny Arjona analiza el tema de las producciones de espectáculos, que se debaten entre la urgencia por producir ganancias y la necesidad de mostrar calidad artística



La improvisación –como algo no previsto o no preparado- no forma parte del vocabulario de Fanny Arjona.

A la cantante lírica y actriz, con sólida formación artística, le preocupa el devenir de las puestas en escena que se ofrecen en Venezuela. Y sí, por una parte, está el llamado “tema país”, del que por mucho padecerse, no se describe; también está el hecho de que los espectáculos, precisamente, por garantizarse un aforo repleto, buscan abastecerse con más nombres de estrellas del firmamento farandulero que de talentos, lo cual da, como resultado, obras que no satisfacen plenamente el requisito artístico y de calidad.

Este es un aspecto que a Arjona le preocupa, y del cual conversa.

-¿Qué importa más en las obras, en los musicales? ¿la capacidad actoral, la taquilla, el talento para cantar?

-A ese punto hay que responder con total sinceridad. En un medio artístico lógico, lo que primero se tomaría en cuenta es si los candidatos en cuestión tienen la facultad para cantar, unida a las necesarias condiciones actorales. Pero en un medio tan exótico como éste, la primera consideración que se tiene en cuenta es la ganancia. Lo que se busca primordialmente es que el elenco esté conformado por actores que sean “caras conocidas”, preferiblemente con proyección en televisión para asegurar una buena taquilla. Si cantan o no, es algo que después se ve en el camino y se soluciona según sople el viento. No hay mayor consideración más allá de si básicamente afinan o no. Clases o talleres, ensayos y profesores de ocasión, están considerados para salir del paso.

-¿Cree que hay un problema de formación artística en el país?

-Hay un problema grande y evidente en relación con la formación y salida a la palestra por afán de figurar, apremio alimentado por la presión de producciones y productores inescrupulosos, con objetivos claros de rentabilidad comercial. Y hacia ese punto están enfocadas también muchas “escuelas integrales” actuales, que le hacen el juego al sistema comercial.

-¡Claro que hay un problema, uno enorme! Hay profesores, referentes serios y sustentados, claro que los hay, pero de los que el comercio huye por impaciencia y obligación de “marketing”. Lo importante es producir rápido y cobrar, no importa qué. Gracias al bombardeo sistemático basado en la pobre concepción de cartelera y oferta teatral, el público ya está lo suficientemente atontado, aburrido y carente  de opciones, como para aceptar cualquier oferta al paso.

-Mucha improvisación…

-Últimamente la gente “se forma a sí misma” de la noche a la mañana, sin referentes, en tiempo récord, instantáneamente. “Hay que resolver” es la consigna y sobre ese parámetro se sustenta la medianía, que no exige ni es exigida pero sí vendida. Si alguien sale bien librado del compromiso, es debido al sustento de su formación particular anterior a estas décadas. En un entorno inmediatista como éste, es fácil encontrar jóvenes aspirantes, espontáneos, animadores, modelos, dilettantes y ganadores de concursos de belleza que de pronto son “actores” que “hacen teatro” y  “cantan”. Allí yo diría que lo más propio es llamar las cosas por su nombre para decir en toda regla que lo que hacen es comercio. “Ganapanes” los llamaba mi maestro…

-Y lo ideal sería contar con talentos formados tanto para la música como para la actuación.

-En el ámbito del canto lírico, hay excelentes cantantes que nunca han sido formados ni entrenados actoralmente, pero al menos son músicos, tienen escuela e instrumento a punto, restaría aportarles seriamente lo que les falta. Como contraparte, del lado teatral hay estupendos actores, unos pocos con condiciones idóneas para el canto y formación leve, y otros a los que sencillamente natura negó toda posibilidad con el canto y la música. Muy contrariamente de lo que sucede en el ámbito del canto académico, en el canto popular “canta” quien sea, cuando sea, sin importar el parche en el ojo.

-Como formato, el musical tiene presente y futuro en otras partes del mundo ¿lo tiene realmente en Venezuela?

-Toda forma artística depende de sus intérpretes y su supervivencia, de la calidad de los intérpretes mismos, tanto como del soporte económico para su proyección. Cuando hablas del musical, estás hablando de un gran género, muy exigente, de un esquema pre-establecido y formateado en Broadway, como ineludible referencia. Sería aventurado afirmar si el musical tiene o no futuro en el país, donde su aparición en cartelera ha sido más bien azarosa en el tiempo, si bien con más presencia en los últimos años. En el presente hemos visto grandes producciones esporádicas de gran formato y muchos yerros unas, con mayores aciertos otras, pero siempre de carácter transitorio. También hemos visto iniciativas de pequeño formato de cámara, conformadas por un ensamble instrumental ad hoc, de carácter monologal prácticamente, con clara proyección comercial y de calidad variable, que no pueden ser identificadas con el término de “musical” en toda regla.

-¿De qué dependería ese futuro?

-El futuro del musical depende de muchos factores, principalmente, el del aspecto de formación individual del artista para ofrecer un producto acabado, cualquiera sea su especialidad. Esa es la base sobre la que se asientan otros importantísimos condicionantes como viabilidad económica, realización, costo de los boletos y permanencia en cartelera, aspecto éste que en Venezuela es absurdo y totalmente contrapuesto a la naturaleza esencial de ese tipo de espectáculos.  Aquí se han hecho grandes esfuerzos tratando de elegir buenos casts para grandes títulos ocasionales, inversiones millonarias en meses de ensayos y pocas funciones; más publicidad han obtenido los preparativos que el espectáculo mismo. Muchas veces, con resultados muy discutibles.

-Por lo general -y he allí la razón de ser de un musical-, un título dura años en cartelera y con elencos intercambiables, que van renovándose y sustituyéndose según pasa el tiempo. En el país se han hecho inversiones importantes en musicales con ciclos fugaces, con suerte llegan a uno o dos meses en mini-temporadas de fines de semana; complementadas luego con representaciones aisladas, dentro o fuera de la capital. El único musical que conozco estuvo a sala llena y con una larga temporada en su momento, fue “Historia de un Caballo de León Tolstoi/ dirigida por Carlos Giménez con su grupo Rajatabla con un récord de 100 funciones continuas.

-Ignoro qué pueda deparar el futuro, pero mirando bien la situación actual y en medio de una crisis económica creciente, el gran musical es un formato arriesgado con pocas posibilidades de subsistir, tanto por sus exigentes niveles de inversión y preparación, como por cast idóneo y co-responsabilidad profesional. Por los momentos, está destinado a ser materia media de consumo masivo, es decir, a ser un espectáculo con medianías, para hacer negocio y no arte, no en el mismo empaque. Con honrosas excepciones.

-Si para los productores, lo comercial se impone a la calidad de la obra ¿cuál podría ser una salida honrosa, desde su punto de vista?

-Ya el hecho de que la calidad sea soslayada en una propuesta para ser ofrecida al público no es sólo un contrasentido, sino un irrespeto. Salidas honrosas creo que es precisamente el slogan detrás del que se han amparado muchos productores y directores con afán comercial para ofrecer espectáculos de dudosa calidad. En mi opinión, creo que en principio el problema debería enfocarse en depurar el medio profesional en lo posible para luego pensar en los títulos, y llegados a ese punto, pensar en un esquema adaptado a este medio, con sus posibilidades y limitaciones y en el que puedan tener cabida las producciones de compositores venezolanos. ¿Por qué no? Pero lo principal, y creo que eso responde a tu pregunta, es que los productores salgan de su estrecho cerco de farándula y miren más allá de la televisión y se documenten, vayan al teatro, a la Ópera, al ballet, a los conciertos, a ampliar su cultura, su nivel de información y sus radios de acción.




-¿Cómo hacer para que un productor sepa, conozca sobre el trabajo de los artistas, de los músicos formados?

-El ámbito de los productores comerciales es un ghetto cerrado poblado por misses, modelos, figuras del momento, cronistas de chismes y lugares de moda. Interesar a un productor para que acceda al mundo desconocido del espacio sinfónico por ejemplo, es ardua tarea. Sinceramente no sé de ningún productor de ese medio que vaya motu-proprio a ningún concierto, allí todo depende de su interés individual. Pero creo que allí los periodistas tienen un importante papel para dar a conocer e informar a ese sector tan desasistido y colaborar en las mejoras estructurales de esa dinámica, haciéndoles conocer de alguna forma quién es quién y el trabajo que ha realizado. Una sección configurada en alguna página web al efecto, una revista, alguna publicación, es lo que se me ocurre pudiera servir para esos fines. En ese sentido, creo que los profesionales de la comunicación social podrían servir igualmente como catalizadores sinérgicos e interactivos para las secciones gerenciales de teatros por ejemplo, aportándoles a éstas los nombres de distintos productores. Esto, con el fin de que puedan serles extendidas invitaciones a aquellos para sus programaciones.

-Usted es un referente artístico en este tipo de obras ¿dónde están otros artistas así?

-Gracias por lo de referente artístico. Los otros artistas como yo, según expresas, lamentablemente no abundan. Aclaro esta afirmación rápidamente, primero, porque muchos actores reconocidos han hecho sus carreras teatrales sin cantar nunca ni pretender hacerlo, y segundo porque muchos cantantes sólidos han mantenido como norte principal su carrera musical, sin preocupación ni ocupación manifiesta por su parte actoral.

-También debo aclarar que en lo que a mí respecta, lo digo no por ego, sino porque yo me exigí no sólo profundizar en mi formación teatral integral con los mejores maestros del momento, sino que también me esforcé y mucho, para no conformarme con cantar en rango genérico -y aquí debo disculparme por la libertad de tan largo paréntesis-. Yo me negué rotundamente a cantar boleros que es lo que la mayoría de las actrices hace, con más o menos fortuna, con más o menos habilidades, con más o menos talento y es lo que abunda. Desde mis inicios en el Teatro, me apasionó el canto lírico y paralelamente hice mi formación técnica a la par del desarrollo de mi carrera teatral, cosa para nada fácil. Una obra tras otra, desde los clásicos del Siglo de Oro español hasta los musicales precisamente, los ensayos, las giras, todo tuve que intercalarlo con mis clases de canto, de danza y de música.

-Comencé con el maestro Francisco Kraus y pasado el tiempo con la profesora Yazmira Ruiz, a la que debo tres Premios Nacionales de Canto Lírico y otros reconocimientos internacionales. Ingresé al IUDEM y luego hice muchas master-class dentro y fuera del país, la más reciente con la soprano Rayna Kavaywanska en Italia. Con ello quiero decir que llevo igualmente la vida de un cantante lírico, vocalizando, leyendo música, montando repertorio, trabajando con un repertorista, haciendo Ópera sobre un escenario, por lo que considero anexé esa herramienta a mi condición originaria de actriz. Eso me ha permitido continuar con la inserción de mi trabajo y enfoque actoral en el ámbito de la música académica y llevar mi oficio teatral a la Ópera, lo que me resulta apasionante.

-Pero la formación necesaria, por fuerza y límites del medio, ha debido ser y sigue siendo de índole personal y parcelada, de modo que si un actor quiere cantar, depende sólo de su legítimo interés y disciplina individual lograrlo. En el país encontrarás, por ejemplo, en el canto académico magníficas voces sin bases actorales, pero con talento -eso es redimible- y buenos actores con condiciones básicas para el canto, pero todo en medida potencial, medianamente desarrolladas según las circunstancias. Son pocos los actores que pueden cantar seriamente.

-Creo que son precisamente los proyectos los que impulsan al crecimiento profesional en este sentido y es mucho más fácil encontrar a actores que puedan cantar y vayan paulatinamente cumpliendo etapas evolutivas en ese sentido, que a cantantes que actúen. Y definitivamente, vas a encontrar a esa clase de profesionales en el Teatro.

-Aparte del talento artístico ¿podría ser que haya también algún problema de dirección escénica, dirección artística, concepto de montaje, cantidad de ensayos, nivel de compromiso de los talentos?

-Comenzaré diciendo que todos los elementos que confluyen para un montaje, están inevitablemente entrelazados y son interdependientes. De este modo, no es posible catalogar de “bueno” en su totalidad un espectáculo si el vestuario o la escenografía por ejemplo, son de mediocre realización, todo cuenta, todo está involucrado. Iré por partes.

-En el campo de la Dirección Escénica que mencionas, hay un enorme bache, con bases profundas en la ausencia de formación teatral. Hoy día pululan las agrupaciones teatrales unas con más trayectoria que otras, con directores más o menos formados, pero el musical es otra cosa, otro estilo, otro género. Y tal como sucede en el terreno de la Ópera, aquí hablamos de un lenguaje escénico especializado, en el que el Director no sólo debe manejar los elementos básicos de un montaje teatral, sino que debe rebasarlos, pues hay otros componentes en el conjunto –aquí necesariamente de gran formato de la escena-, que deben ser manejados (cuerpo de baile, figurantes, músicos, etc) y otros profesionales con los que se trabaja en estrecha relación (coreógrafos, compositores, directores de orquesta, etc).

-Actos de fe…

-Con ello quiero decir que quien asume este rol, debe por fuerza no sólo poseer una sólida información sobre el género que lo respalde para su resolución, sino que también -e idealmente-, debería ser capaz de leer una partitura o al menos de seguirla si no sabe leer música, conocer de danza, de canto y tener buenas bases de manejo de masas sobre el escenario. Eso como cuestión básica. Pero lo que realmente sucede en la realidad es que muchos directores espontáneos asumen tal responsabilidad en la total ignorancia del género y sus requerimientos, confiando en que “funcionará” por la dinámica misma del montaje, por la fe sobre su fuerza de voluntad, la pericia o proyección de sus protagonistas o en la ingenuidad de que “el paquete” que viene comprado por fuerza y que obliga sea remontado sobre sus cánones originales, se limitará al poco esfuerzo de la copia. Los más hábiles y con más oficio, son quienes salen bien librados del asunto, pero la gran mayoría que aborda el género lo hace una vez más, basado en la improvisación, pensando más en el interés económico que en la calidad sustentada de lo que pueda ofrecer. Honrosas excepciones incluidas.

-Faltan los talentos…

-Del terreno de la producción artística hemos hablado suficientemente, de la cantidad de ensayos y el nivel de compromiso profesional falta otro tanto, teniendo en cuenta que ambos están íntimamente relacionados. Es este último el que marca la pauta, tanto como para la selección del cast, como para establecer cuántos ensayos son necesarios para lograr un buen resultado. Con esto quiero decir que la honestidad profesional juega un gran papel a la hora de aceptar un compromiso y que a pesar de la impronta extravagante que denota este medio, lo ideal es que para un musical, los involucrados canten. Pareciera una perogrullada, pero el contexto demuestra justo todo lo contrario.

-¿Eso qué implica?

-Un profesional sin técnica ni oficio para el canto, pero presionado por su imagen a participar en un montaje de esta naturaleza, requerirá obviamente un mayor número de ensayos que otro mejor formado para alcanzar un resultado aceptable. Pero sucede que “aceptable” no debería existir ni en el léxico ni la dinámica de un profesional que se precie, no puede haber medias tintas ni autocomplacencias cuando se trata de ofrecer un espectáculo al público, cualquiera sea su naturaleza. Para mí es sencillamente inadmisible. Y allí, justo en el ejercicio de ese concepto, comienza la mediocridad a bullir y corroer lenta y profundamente.

-¿Podría ser más específica? ¿Cuál ha sido su experiencia?

-Sucede que según los cronogramas aleatorios de producción “no hay tiempo” para más ensayos, hay que quedarse con éste o con aquella “porque es la que resuelve”, “el que se lo sabe” y no hay más chance “para que otro se lo aprenda”. Cuando la realidad abruma como una ola y el montaje “no camina”, entonces emerge la salida desesperada de lanzar el anzuelo a un profesional a última hora, para que “resuelva” en veinte días o menos, lo que aquél no pudo en tres meses. Y lo digo con todo el peso de la experiencia propia. Eso, en el caso de una resolución feliz. Cuando no, vemos lo que abunda: un musical en el que sólo dos actores de un elenco de cuarenta, pueden cantar realmente.

-He sido sorprendida en estos meses, constatando que una conocida actriz que no posee ni instrumento, ni técnica, ni training para cantar, ha logrado una cierta salida digna de su embrollo, entonando rítmicamente con la orquesta su parte musical y dotándola de fundamento netamente actoral, lo que lo hizo creíble. Claro, es un asunto muy bizarro ese de no cantar en un musical, pero así van las cosas y esa es la realidad de este medio, en líneas generales.  Llegados a este punto, hay que echar mano del célebre dicho que reza “no es culpa del ciego, sino el que le da el garrote”.

-Es grave la situación…

-Creo que una anécdota cercana puede ayudar a resumir en una, todas las preguntas que has hecho y que me parece son un fiel reflejo del laxo estado actual de respeto al público y la relación -inexistente hoy día- entre formación, desempeño profesional y oferta comercial. No hace mucho, asistí por invitación a un musical muy promocionado por estos días y lo menos que puedo decir es que acudí a una experiencia surrealista (a precios injustificadamente elevados y pleno de caras conocidas). Una corrompida copia foránea en la que el protagonista no era actor, ni director y muchísimo menos cantante, pero asumía todas esas facultades alegremente, recién aterrizado de la nada; con extrema improvisación y muy poca honra. Lo primero que el señor de marras (que no nombraré) hizo tan pronto apareció, fue salmodiar un texto ininteligible, desafinar al punto de escándalo y estar a contratiempo con la Orquesta, con la cara más dura que he visto nunca en escena. Un verdadero faux-pas que no figuraría ni un día en los predios off-off-off-off Broadway, una verdadera vergüenza.

Fuente: Venezuela Sinfónica

FANNY ARJONA: Blog / XInstagram

Nota: El video es un agregado de este blog.








El primer actor José Luis Montero en Informe para una Academia de Kakfa, el próximo 16 de mayo


 


En esta oportunidad la Sala Experimental y el Club de Teatro del Teatro Baralt de Maracaibo, presentan el estreno de Informe Para Una Academia, pieza teatral inspirada en uno de los grandes escritores de la literatura universal: Franz Kafka.

Paradigma histórico y literario, Kafka escribe sus novelas y cuentos en las postrimerías del siglo 19 y en las primeras décadas del 20. La cultura de Kafka influye en autores como Albert Camus, Milan Kundera y Haruki Murakami, entre muchos otros.

Informe Para Una Academia es una adaptación homónima de uno de los cuentos más importantes de Kafka, publicado en 1917, donde se juega con un género que mezcla el realismo con lo fantástico. En su argumento, un simio, buscando escapar del cautiverio, logra evolucionar por medio del habla hasta la condición humana, por lo cual los académicos le requieren que comparezca ante la academia dando cuenta de esta experiencia.

La versión y puesta en escena responde a las necesidades planteadas por un teatro contemporáneo donde el texto literario y clásico está supeditado a la búsqueda de un lenguaje original para la representación. 

La dirección escénica está a cargo de Alfredo Peñuela, y la interpretación cuenta con la presencia del primer actor de Maracaibo, José Luis Montero, cuyo récord de actuación no tiene parangón en la ciudad. También será apoyado en escena por el mismo Alfredo Peñuela y el debut de Andrés Brea en los roles secundarios.

JOSÉ LUIS MONTERO 

Nació en Maracaibo. Realizó estudios en la Escuela de Teatro "Inés Laredo" y en la Sociedad Dramática de Maracaibo que complementa con una intensa preparación en danza y en el manejo de la voz. Luego se traslada a Caracas e integra los elencos de la Compañía Nacional de Teatro de Isaac Chocrón y el Grupo Rajatabla de Carlos Giménez, además de participar en producciones de cine, teatro y televisión de la mano de Román Chalbaud. Ha figurado como actor invitado en diversas agrupaciones teatrales y ha sido dirigido entre otros por Miguel Narros del Teatro Español de Madrid, Raúl Brambilla del Teatro Colón de Buenos Aires y Nenni Delmestre del Teatro Nacional de Croacia.
Ha participado en más de cuarenta montajes teatrales con los cuales se ha presentado en los más importantes escenarios de Venezuela (incluído el Teatro Teresa Carreño) y de América, Europa y Asia. Además ha participado en once telenovelas, cinco unitarios para tv, diez películas y en una serie de cien micro programas de radio. Cuenta con varios reconocimientos siendo los más importantes el Premio Municipal de Teatro de Caracas en 2004 y la Orden al Mérito en el Trabajo en su Primera Clase en 2009. Es el primer actor de El Club del Teatro, proyecto teatral residente del Teatro Baralt.

Luna Negra, por Fanny Arjona, Caracas, 30 de Abril de 2025



Lucy Ferrero



Un espacio pleno de vacío y un pozo lleno de silencio, con mil compases que ya no cantan. De nuevo otro obituario, de nuevo el mismo mal fatídico, de nuevo Semana Santa, que arrastra consigo los dolores del Señor. También tú ahora, tan pronto y pasando por la vía del Calvario sin Cireneos, enmudeciste para siempre.


Todos a uno, se agolpan ahora los recuerdos que pugnan y regresan sin aviso los días en que jugaba a las escapadas para oírte cantar, camuflada en los salones donde tu voz y tu sonrisa se enseñoreaban, los conciertos a los que acudimos para aplaudirte, tus historias, las tertulias, los proyectos, los gratísimos encuentros en tu casa, con nuestro común amado Juan Carlos Núñez, en la que siempre hubo un piano dispuesto que indefectiblemente él terminaría tocando; los mojitos de Ricky, las ocurrencias de “Mami”, las largas conversaciones plagadas de tu cultura y gentileza, las anécdotas de camerino… Todo se ha ido ahora tras de ti, alma generosa de tu lejana Cuba. Que sea ahora para ti perpetua la eterna luz.


Gracias por tu amistad franca y sin dobleces, por tus sonrisas, por las coincidencias y los momentos compartidos, gracias por las horas de apoyo, solidaridad y admiración mutuas, gracias por tu testimonio de entrega en cada escenario, cada concierto, cada trazo de música que acuñaste; gracias por la historia de leyenda que signaste en este país. Te recordaré con inmenso afecto, siempre.


Gracias, Lucy, mi querida, mi admirada y eterna Diva.


Dicen que las leyendas no mueren, más ha terminado ya para ti el sufrimiento.


Nos inclinamos reverentes ante tu camino, tomando de la mano la justa compasión y sin embargo, ¡que inexplicable resulta ahora comprender tu ausencia!


Sólo quedan permanentes esta admiración y este cariño rubricados a toda prueba, para entregarlos acompañándote al infinito, donde ahora entre los astros, tu voz se expande…






©Fanny Arjona


Cantante lírica, actriz y escritora venezolana. En 2009  ganó el Concurso Internacional de Canto Lírico Ciudad de Cervinara en Avellino, Italia.  Su actuación en dicho Festival, le valió la invitación –como única latinoamericana participante en el evento- a audiciones de convocatoria exclusiva para cantantes de la Unión Europea en el Teatro del Giglio, en Lucca. Es también la primera venezolana que ha logrado ser admitida en un reducido número de participantes en las Master Class de la reconocida soprano búlgara Rayna Kabayvanska.


Ha cantado en calidad de solista con la Orquesta Sinfónica Juvenil Simón Bolívar, Orquesta Sinfónica de Venezuela, Orquesta Municipal de Caracas, Gran Mariscal de Ayacucho y Orquesta Sinfónica de la Ópera, bajo la conducción de los Mtos. Alfredo Rugeles, Juan Carlos Núñez, Rodolfo Saglimbeni, Antonio Delgado y Ángelo Pagliuca.  Formó parte activa del staff de la Compañía de Ópera Memoria de Apariencias de la Camerata de Caracas, bajo la dirección de Isabel Palacios.


Como actriz formó parte del importantísimo grupo Rajatabla de Carlos Giménez, siendo dirigida por él en númerosas obras con las cuales recorrió gran parte del mundo, destacándose La Muerte de García Lorca  y  Bolívar de José Antonio Rial,  La vida es sueño de Calderón de la Barca y el musical  Historia de un Caballo de León Tolstoi.


Como escritora es autora del libreto Los Albores de la Revolución, espectáculo multidisciplinario para actores, cantantes, Coro y Orquesta del Mto. Juan Carlos Núñez, concebido para exaltar la gesta independentista de Francisco de Miranda y del libreto de la  obra sinfónica Amazonía del Mto. Núñez. También hizo una versión de “La Orestíada” de Esquilo –para laCátedra Latinoamericana de Composición Antonio Estévez- y la del libreto original de “La Viuda Alegre” de Léhar.


Actualmente asume la autoría del libreto “Gringo enamorado”, junto al artista plástico José  Augusto Paradisi  Rangel.

 


TRANSFONDO, por Rodolfo Molina, Córdoba, 2 de mayo de 2025



Internet





Resulta común cuando vas donde un médico a ventilar cualquier problema de salud y recibes de él una atención esmerada que estimula la confianza y hasta siente que mejoras ¡Que agradable sensación! 


Yo, en lo particular, siempre he guardado un gran respeto y admiración a los galenos de bata blanca e igual con ése caminar, rápido y decidido. Da la impresión que han sido entrenados para comportarse de ésa peculiar manera.


Los médicos que he conocido, por fortuna, me han resultado de entrada fácil, de calidad humana incuestionable. Algunos dirán que cuando hablo así, es porque estoy varado en el tiempo o viviendo en los espacios fantásticos de Narnia.


Escuché hace muy poco a un médico decir, que ese espíritu de entrega que tienen los médicos es de origen cultural. Esto parece tener algo de verdad, si lo medimos en base a su esencia humana y de sensibilidad espiritual calificada.


Deduzco que esta confianza que uno le da al galeno proviene de ése primer encuentro en donde uno recibe, con pudor, el despojarse de todo lo que uno lleva encima.


Además, si ése médico, hombre o mujer, fiel al compromiso hipocrático, estudioso, abierto a la indagación y de probidad médica es a su vez, afable, cordial, amable, no podría uno más que sentir alagado y complacido de encontrarse en el mejor de los lugares.


Pero éste sueño encantador, que ha merecido los mejores calificativos, se esfuma, como quién corre una cortina y devela una realidad sorprendente.


Después de aparecer aquella "cosa" horrorosa llamada "virus de la pandemia" se rompieron todos los esquemas como quien parte un espejo con un martillo y éste estallan en mil partículas.


A partir de aquí, para mí, se abrieron todos frentes de batalla: "La cosa" abrió sus fauces en los laboratorios,  farmacias.  Los encierros se activaron, cada quien tenía una cárcel en casa. Máscaras de todas forma y colores, sacudiendo los ánimos de la ciudadanía. Todo guiado por los siniestros intereses del mercado y el poder político.


Es entonces, cuando mi médico, el conocido, sometido al inesperado acontecimiento se desgarró las vestiduras y entró en la vorágine zarandeando por el laberinto de las inconsciencias.


Por supuesto, no es justo generalizar en éste colosal desbarajuste. El problema ahora es que, quedamos lesionados en éste pandemonio. Nos encontramos con el "sobresalto constante" de llegar a un Centro Médico u Hospital en estado de alerta suprema.

Al  entrar al consultorio no sabes que hacer, ves al médico ubicado en una distancia sorprendente, al fondo del consultorio, está allá, lejísimo. Con mascarilla todavía puesta. Sin mirarte, y en esporádicos momentos cruza una mirada de refilón, que te hace tratar de descubrir que hay en ese extraño personaje nacido de "La cosa".


Él escribe sin cesar en la computadora. Preguntas y más preguntas que no quiere oír, y desde la larga distancia, sin escuchar claramente lo que dice, regresan respuestas indescifrables. Y si desde su boca tapada llega algo casi telegráfico, es para decir: "Con la presente hoja vaya a la farmacia y compre los medicamentos, ahí va todo lo que le he indicado y si necesita alguna explicación se la pide al farmacéutico".


¿Cómo se sentirán todos aquellos que hayan tenido una situación parecida a la mía? Y sé preguntarán, deduzco ¿qué se hizo mi médico de confianza, aquel audaz y atrevido que podía, con mi consentimiento, revisar hasta la profundidad de mis oídos? ¿Dónde está aquel qué  podíamos ensalzar como el Ser el que después de Dios venía él?


Vamos a ver: Será que en el devenir de nuestro tiempo presente se compagina con las frases poéticas de Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer cuando en su hermoso poema presagiaba ...


"Volverán las oscuras golondrinas

en tu balcón sus nidos a colgar,

y otra vez con el ala a sus cristales

jugando llamarán.

Pero aquellas que el  vuelo refrenaban

tu hermosura y mi dicha a contemplar,

aquellas que aprendieron nuestros nombres…

esas… no volverán" ...


Vaya, ¿No?

 


©Rodolfo Molina

Corresponsal en España de Escritoras Unidas & Cía.

 

Director de teatro venezolano, productor, actor, diseñador de vestuario y escenografía, docente, gerente cultural, pedagogo teatral, dramaturgo, guionista cine. En 2024 dirigió con gran éxito en España la obra “El Terrible Juan Chicote”, versión de “Lucy es Pecosa” de Triunfo Arciniegas y publicó su obra de teatro “Los Invisibles”, de venta en Amazon.


Fue fundador del Festival Internacional de Teatro de Los Andes, Teatro Móvil Campesino y El Theatrón Centro Dramático (Mérida). Ex Presidente del Consejo Regional de Teatro del Estado Mérida. 


Algunos Premios: Gran Medallón de Honor del Festival Internacional de Teatro de Expresión Ibérica (Porto-Portugal); Ciudadano Meritorio de la Ciudad de Mérida; Premio Juana Sujo; Subsidio Honor de la Casa del Artista. 



Algunos Festivales en los que participó: Festival Internacional de Teatro de Expresión Ibérica (Portugal); Festival de Teatro Popular (Nueva York); Festival Internacional de Teatro de Caracas; Festival Chicano y Latinoamericano (México); Festival Mundial de Teatro en Nancy (Francia). Ha dirigido más de 45 obras de teatro y realizado giras por varios países, entre ellos  España, Francia, Colombia, Portugal y México.


 

 


Anais Nin: Moriré siendo poeta…/ texto del Diario I








Moriré siendo poeta. 
Asesinada por los que no lo son. 
No renunciaré a ningún sueño,
no me resignaré a ninguna fealdad, 
no aceptaré nada de otro mundo, 
que no sea el que yo misma he construido. 
He escrito, vivido y amado como Don Quijote 
y el día de mi muerte diré:

 “Que me perdonen, 
todo esto ha sido un sueño” (…)


Diario I 







'Joan Baez received death threats, and was banned, persecuted' : Julio Emilio Moliné, co-director of the documentary 'Joan Baez in Latin America: There but for fortune (1981)' / interview by Viviana Marcela Iriart, Los Angeles, California, March 3, 2014 / photos by Julio Emilio Moliné



Joan Baez , May 1981 ©Julio Emilio Moliné

After that historical tour in which Joan Baez terrified dictators from Argentina, Chile and Brazil so much that they threatened to kill her and banned her from singing, among other things, the mythical singer-songwriter and pacifist will perform in March in the same countries in which her voice made perpetrators of genocide falter in 1981.




Joan Baez & Laura Bonaparte, México, May 1981  ©Julio Emilio Moliné
  

'Beautiful Laura Bonaparte was a psychoanalyst from Argentina. On June 11, 1976 her husband, a biochemist, was dragged out of the house in front of her eyes and she never saw him again. When she went looking for her daughter, who had also "disappeared", she was given her daughter's hand in a jar for identification.'    Joan Baez 'And a Voice to Sing With (A Memoir)'




Joan Baez Madres de Plaza de Mayo,  Buenos Aires, May 1981  ©Julio Emilio Moliné




Thank you Joan Baez, for the brave and affectionate 1981 tour to bring comfort, joy and hope to the victims of the Pinochet, Videla, and Joao Baptista de Oliveira Figueiredo dictatorships.

Thank you Joan Baez, because despite receiving death threats and being banned and persecuted, she stayed at our side, sang to us, and showed the world the horror of dictatorships in the wonderful documentary 'Joan Baez in Latin America: There but for Fortune.'

Thank you Joan Baez  for giving victims a face and a voice, and restoring their humanity.

Thank you Joan Baez for condemning the crimes committed by both right-wing and left-wing dictatorships, as well as democracies.

Thank you  Joan Baez for defending human rights, for opposing wars, arms build-up, discrimination, totalitarianism.

Thank you  Joan Baez for showing me, when I was 16 years old, the meaning of non-violence and its difference with passivity.

Thank you Joan Baez because your fight is not limited to singing and talking to the press, as the documentary and this interview (among many other facts) demonstrate.

Thank you Joan Baez for your voice, which soothes all pain.

Thank you  Joan Baez for showing the way and being a banner but also doubt.

And thank you Julio Emilio Moliné for sharing some of your memories and photos from that brave tour of Joan Baez in Latin America… here, fortunately.



Joan Baez, LulaEduardo Suplicy & Julio Emilio Moliné (with mustaches),
San Pablo, Brasil, May 1981. Courtesy photo J.E.Moliné








How did you become part of the tour of philanthropic activities and concerts Joan Baez did in 1981 across Latin America to show her support for the victims of dictatorships there?
One Monday morning at the end of April 1981 I got a call at work (I had a job at a TV station) from my friend John Chapman, an independent filmmaker from San Francisco.  He told me: 'Hey, would you like to go on a Latin American tour with Joan Baez for a month?  We can film it and make a documentary.'

Given that I speak Spanish, and I had lived in Chile for many years and had traveled around Argentina, John thought I would be a good partner for this adventure.  Being a little older than me, he had worked in Apocalypse Now with Francis Coppola and had fallen in love with cinema during that experience.  I said yes without hesitation, though I had no holidays and I needed to get an unpaid leave at work.

Another setback was that my wife was pregnant, and our daughter was expected to be born during the tour, so I had to ask her whether she thought this was a good idea.  She generously said yes.  And our daughter Andrea was born while we were in Buenos Aires interviewing a journalist from the New York Times.

That Monday when I received John's call, we met Joan in the evening at a Chinese restaurant  in Palo Alto.   Joan gave me the go-ahead, and we started the required paperwork.


What was you impression of Joan Baez?
I remember being a little shocked at the fact that I was eating Chinese rice with such a famous person.  Besides being a very attractive woman, she was very friendly and warm.  She asked us a lot of questions about Latin America, some very well-informed and others less so, and she paid for the meal.
She made a very good impression on me, because of her kindness and good sense of humor.


On what day did the tour begin?
On May 3, 1981, John and I met with Joan and Jeannie in México City, where we interviewed the Argentinian doctor (the dictatorship had caused great suffering to her family), and that evening Joan gave a concert where we had the chance to try the equipment.

The next day we set off to Argentina, where we stayed until May 15, when we crossed the Andes in our way to Chile.  There we stayed in Santiago until May 19, when we set off to Brazil.   We spent a few days in São Paulo and Rio, and then headed off to Nicaragua.  After that, Joan and Jeannie went alone to Venezuela.

That tour was recorded—except for the trip to Venezuela and Nicaragua—in the wonderful documentary 'Joan Baez in Latin America: There but for fortune.'  Who had the idea of making it? What was the purpose? How was it funded?
The main driving force of the documentary was John Chapman, who convinced Joan of the historical value of recording her tour.   Much of the funding came from Diamonds & Rust, Joan's company in California.  My salary was paid by KTEH TV, the TV station I worked for in San Jose.  When I asked for an unpaid leave to travel around Latin America with Joan and film, Peter Baker, my executive producer, convinced Maynard Orme, the station manager, that this was an idea they needed to support.  It was an act of courage that is rarely seen nowadays, because I had been working there for less than a year (and was only 27 years old).  KTEH also lent the filmmaking equipment, and paid the post-production and editing costs. 

Tragically, John died in an accident in 1983, less than a year after finishing the documentary. 

Do you think Joan Baez imagined she would receive death threats, bombs, tear gas and censorship of her concerts in the three countries?
No. She thought it would be difficult but never to such an extreme.  The person who sparked the idea of making the tour in Joan was the Chilean writer Fernando Alegría, who was a Literature professor in Stanford.    He believed things were waning a bit in the Southern Cone, and that Joan's visit would inject a lot of energy into Latin American people, especially those who were protesting against dictatorships.


How did you manage to shoot under the close watch of the repressive forces of dictatorships?
It was hard, because fear was everywhere, and with good reason.  Very few people in the USA knew about the dirty war in Argentina and the death squads in Brazil and the DINA/CNI in Chile, but we did.  This was completely ignored by most people in the USA. We must remember that in 1980 Reagan was elected president with the mandate to reverse much of the liberal progress made during the 70's. But I had lived under Pinochet's dictatorship and I knew they would keep an eye on us.  The most probable scenario was that they would confiscate our equipment at the airport, and that would have been the end of the documentary. That's why we decided to travel super light with a couple of Elmo Super 8 cameras, Sony TCD 5 cassette recorders and a big case containing Kodachrome and Ektachrome film rolls.    We had a couple of lights and a tripod, and that was it.

Many of the documentary scenes were shot indoors: concerts, apartments, friends' houses, etc. That way, we could leave the guards outside and shoot what we could with the few lights we had. For outdoor scenes we would usually go without Joan, because she attracted too much attention. 


Who were the members of the team?
We were only four people traveling: Joan, Jeannie Murphy (who was like Joan's producer and manager), John and me.  Curiously, in Chile, the yellow press insinuated that John and I were Joan and Jeannie's 'friends', but those were only tales invented by people serving the dictatorship.  In each country, there were many people who helped us and allowed us to do the tour and create the documentary.


Was any of the countries more dangerous that the others, or was Joan Baez equally persecuted in all of them?
Argentina was the scariest by far, though I think the military was actually more interested in making sure nothing happened to Joan than in hurting her.
It was there that Joan received the most threats, we were kicked out of a hotel, they threw teargas bombs at a meeting, and so on. Besides, a Ford Falcon with no plates would follow us everywhere.  There were four strange men in it.  Buenos Aires was the only place where I was really scared. I even got to wonder if I should start the car in case there was a bomb in it.

In Chile, things were more subtle.  Joan was still unable to sing in paid concerts, but at least she could sing in front of an audience.  If they followed us, I didn't realize it, but I'm sure they did.

There was a wave of car bombings in Brazil those days, and many were attributed to the dictatorship, though the truth came out later.  But we didn't know that at the time, and the dictatorship used this to prevent the concerts in order to 'protect the public.'



 
'During her visit (…) they put a bomb and we had to evacuate the house (…) and hurry to take Joan to a distant bar to keep her safe.  I called the fire department, who came with a truck from the bomb disposal unit and extracted a box from the balcony in which you could see there were cables and a bomb, which they exploded right there. (…)  Joan's presence in Argentina was a great source of support and strength for the human rights cause, it gave us strength to continue struggling.' Adolfo Pérez Esquivel, La Nación, March 1, 2014
Joan Báez Adolfo Pérez Esquivel, Buenos Aires May 1981 / Photo La Nación



What human rights organizations and public figures did she meet with in each country? Which encounter, or encounters, do you think impacted her most emotionally?
In Argentina and Chile the Servicio Paz y Justicia (SERPAJ) organization was the one that made the most effort to organize encounters between Joan and the people. In Buenos Aires, they helped Joan contact the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo and other activists and victims of the dictatorship. 

She should be the one to tell you what impacted her most, but in my opinion her meetings with the Mothers in Argentina and Chile were very shocking.  Joan herself said that the trouble with the concerts was nothing compared to the sufferings of the mothers.  And those meetings left her really distressed. Adolfo Pérez Esquivel, in Argentina, also made a great impact because of his courage and simplicity.  There was a deep mutual respect between him and Joan based on their admiration for Gandhi's pacifism.


One year before, Pérez Esquivel—an ex-prisoner of the Argentinian dictatorship—had received the Nobel Peace Prize. Do you remember what their first encounter was like?
He waited for us at the airport that evening in Buenos Aires and helped us get through Customs without problems.  The bureaucrats of the day were very interested in why we had so many film rolls.  We tried to explain that we were making a home movie for Joan but we were having trouble making them believe us.

Adolfo intervened, and through light but direct pressure he assured them that everything we were carrying was the usual equipment for an artist like Joan. It was late in the evening so we went straight to the hotel to sleep.

The next day there was a press conference in the SERPAJ, with Adolfo, Joan, and a fair amount of journalists.  I don't remember seeing TV cameras.  This scene is included in the documentary.


Do you remember the first encounter between Joan and the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo? 
Yes, we visited them at a big office near the Buenos Aires city center.  There were about thirty or forty people there, many of whom were mothers, and they sat against the walls of large rooms, with their hands almost crossed in their laps.  Some of them had a white headscarf. 

After a brief moment of tension, Joan took out her guitar and sang a couple of songs.  Then she sat next to the mothers.  One of them started to talk about her tragedy while Joan listened.  They hugged, and the mother cried.

At the end, Joan sang another song.  When we left, Joan was very sad.


Was Joan able to march with the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo?
No, she wasn't.  That morning the SERPAJ leaders met and agreed that it would be counterproductive to have Joan march that afternoon.  Adolfo didn't agree, and he said so.

Joan wasn't very happy with their decision either, but she respected their will because those who lived there would be the ones who would have to suffer the consequences.

Those were very fragile days in Argentina, and the SERPAJ leaders believed the dictatorship would use Joan's appearance next to the mothers as a sign of foreign intervention against the interests of the Argentinian people.

That afternoon Joan kept going round the square in a taxi.  We came out, I took some pictures, and John filmed. That's why there's no scene of Joan marching with the mothers in the documentary.


Was she able to sing in front of an audience in Buenos Aires?
No, she wasn't.  If I remember correctly, she sang in an apartment full of people who had been victims of the dictatorship, at the SERPAJ, and I can't remember any other place, and never in a place that was open to the public.

On May 8 we went to a Charly García and Gilberto Gil concert.

Joan hoped to be able to go on stage and give the audience a surprise singing one or two songs, but when we got there, her hopes were frustrated. Charly García greeted Joan telling the audience that she was there, people applauded and Joan waved, but she said nothing.  Later we found out that there had been veiled threats of serious consequences if Joan sang.

When the concert finished, we went to pick up our car and found all four tires had been slashed.  That was the way the Ford Falcon guys could make sure we would not get lost in the concert crowd.

When we got to the hotel that evening Joan was really depressed.


Was it because of the slashed tires or because she had not been able to sing?
The tires were the least of it.  She felt sad and frustrated because she was being banned from doing what she had come to do, which was to sing.

Did Joan complain about what the dictatorship was doing to her?
I never heard Joan complain.  That's not her style.


What is her style? 
Stoic.  She never complains about her personal sorrows because she understands there are others who have much greater sorrows.


In what language did she communicate?
Always in English.  She understands Spanish very well but feels much more comfortable communicating in English.


Were you her translator?
I was the documentary co-director, sound engineer, photographer, and interpreter.  I was also cameraman a few times.

After that you went to Chile.  How did Pinochet treat Joan?
Well, we never met Pinochet in person or anything like that. In general, they treated us more politely than in Argentina, but Joan was still unable to give paid concerts.  Ricardo García, who was a celebrity there, told us in an interview that there was no formal prohibition against Joan, but there was 'self-censorship'—everyone was scared to organize something because of what might happen.

We were obviously under watch but in a much more subtle way than in Argentina.

When we left Chile on our way to Brazil, a pair of film rolls were stolen from one of my cases.  When we told our friends in Chile they started a legal action (with no success) and went on with that matter.

Six months after that, a package with no sender information arrived at my office containing the two film rolls that had been stolen.  We were never able to solve the mystery.
A couple of years later, in 1983, I wanted to go back to Chile to visit my parents.  We would go in July.  A month before our visit, my father called to say we should not go because they were getting phone calls during the night saying: 'Julio will die in July.' We canceled the trip.  In 1985 we managed to go there but we were really scared.

Horrifying. Were you able to include the film rolls in the documentary or had you already edited it?
If I remember correctly, there was still time, but there was nothing there that was worth the trouble.  There was a lot of great material that was not included.


What human rights organizations and activists could Joan meet with in Chile?
Mainly with the SERPAJ and Chilean artists.  She also met with some dictatorship victims in the Vicaría de la Solidaridad in Santiago.

Do you remember that encounter with the victims?
It was really moving, with the mothers crying in the Vicaría's central yard.
Joan sang No nos moverán ('We Shall Not Be Moved'), and the mothers joined her.  One of them took Joan's arm and sang proudly with her.  They gave her a Chilote-style, woolen vest, which Joan wore a lot during the rest of the journey.
I have a picture of John Chapman filming Joan in that yard singing with the mothers, and you can see a big sign behind her dedicated to Oscar Romero, which says: 'Nadie muere para siempre' (No one dies forever).

In Chile she managed to give an almost clandestine concert. Do you remember how it was organized? How did Joan and the audience feel?
In Chile Joan sang in several places: at a party near Santiago city center, at a Catholic religious service at a church in the Pedro de Valdivia square, at a church auditorium in Ñuñoa, at the University of Chile campus in Macul, and at a couple of meetings in the homes of SERPAJ artists and friends.

The only 'concert' was the one at the church auditorium, where there were three police buses outside.  I don't remember if they got off the buses, but it called our attention because the concert had been organized that same day.  How did the police know there would be a concert that evening?

Some Chilean musicians sang that evening too.  The auditorium was packed, and so was the street.  They installed speakers so that people outside could listen.

I remember there were many celebrities—artists, singers, actors, and so on—who were against the Pinochet regime.  When Joan sang  No nos moverán ('We shall not be moved'the audience started to sing 'El pueblo unido jamás será vencido' ('The people united will never be defeated'), which was one of the slogans of Unidad Popular during Allende's government.  At that moment, I was really scared thinking about the police outside.  If they had thrown a teargas bomb inside, it would have been very dangerous because the auditorium was packed and the doors were closed.

There is an—unfortunately pirate—CD of the concert, and that's why I know the song was 'Here's to you', and at the end Joan says in Spanish 'Yes, it's true.' It's a hair-raising moment, both because of emotion and fear. Do you remember how Joan felt after the concert? Happy? Scared because of the police?
What I remember is that Joan was very happy for having been able to sing.  Until then she had suffered a lot of frustration, and the audience responded in such a vigorous and vital way that it raised her spirits.

I don't remember her being frightened of the Chilean police.  They wore uniforms and behaved with discipline.  Things were worse in Buenos Aires, where they wore civilian clothes, and threats kept coming without anyone knowing where they came from.



 'The audience fully occupied the 1,200 seats and every corridor and corner of

 the Tuca. (…) The audience stood up and applauded extensively when Joan Baez finally appeared on stage (…) to announce she had been banned from singing (…). She ended up singing two songs—unaccompanied, with no microphone or speaker, from a window of the Tuca.' Sérgio Vaz, São Paulo, Jornal da Tarde, May 23, 1981


Joan Baez & Zé Ramalho, Sao Paulo May 1981. Photo ZR


From Chile you went to Brazil, how was she received there?
The Brazilian people received her very warmly, and although she wasn't able to sing there either, every time she appeared in public people applauded.

Joan met with many representatives of the Workers' Party. Eduardo Suplicy, who I think was a congressman, took us to many places, even a meeting with Lula on the outskirts of São Paulo at the automobile workers union. 
Suplicy tried to get a permit for Joan to give a concert. I remember we even went to a local police station so that Suplicy could do the paperwork, but with no success.

We went to a Ze Ramalho concert, and he received her very kindly at his dressing room (among marijuana smoke clouds), but they asked her not to sing because they were scared of what might happen with the authorities.

Why?
I believe it was auto-censorship, but there might have been threats, I can't be sure. Then Joan went on stage and danced while Ze was singing.  The audience gave her an ovation.
Joan's record label treated us very well, but they were also really frustrated because they were missing a great chance to advertise her albums in Brazil.

She was also interviewed for Globo TV, where they didn't let us film.  I remember they didn't even want John and me to enter the building.  We never had the chance to see that interview because they didn't send it as they had promised to do.

From there, did you go to Venezuela or Nicaragua?
We went to Nicaragua, where they treated us in an utterly different way.  The Sandinista government received her as a guest of honor, and organized concerts and interviews for Joan.

I remember that one evening we went to the home of poet Ernesto Cardenal to eat delicious Nicaraguan food, and there were other artists and poets.  Ernesto was also a pacifist, and he talked a lot with Joan. Then Joan sang some songs to end the evening. In the end we decided not to include our visit to Nicaragua in the documentary, because the situation was very different there from what we had experienced in the Southern Cone.

Which were the songs she sang most?
Joan would adjust her set list according to the audience.  In Argentina, for example, she sang Don't Cry for me Argentina a lot, and in Chile, Violeta Parra's Gracias a la Vida.  In Brazil, she loved a song called Calice, and I think she learned it right there and included it in her repertoire. In Nicaragua she learned a song written by a Sandinista who had been imprisoned and tortured by Somoza's National Guard—I think it was called Mi Venganza Personal (My Personal Revenge).  This also became part of her repertoire, because it was a song about learning to forgive old enemies.

Of all the songs Joan sang, my favorite was No Woman, No Cry by Bob Marley. She also sang Imagine (John Lennon), There But For Fortune (Phil Ochs), We Shall Not Be Moved, Blowin' in the Wind, Amazing Grace, Diamonds & Rust, and others I can't remember.


Would you like to tell an anecdote about Joan from each country?
In Argentina, we were turned out of a hotel under the argument that it was full, which was completely untrue, because it was almost empty.  I remember the poor hotel manager telling Joan that he was sorry but blah blah blah, and Joan almost laughing in his face.  It was evident that the hotel had been pressured to have us turned out.

I don't remember which hotel accepted Joan after that.
As an anecdote from Chile, I'll give you what my friend Antonio De La Fuente wrote in his blog Camino de Santiago:


'On January 6 in LA, CA, my friend JM will be exhibiting two photo series from analogue times. The invitation illustrates a photo of JB in Brazil from 1981.
The image is actually very relevant because in those analogue times, before going to Brazil, JB was in Chile during the heyday of Pinochet's regime, and 33 years after that visit she's planning to go back. There are three things I could tell about that time, but I'll leave it at two. At the final press conference, when JB was about to set off to Brazil, there were more men in gray than journalists. The men in gray were taking pictures of the journalists, and the journalists were taking pictures of the men in gray. Black and white, of course.
There was another time when JB was singing for a small group of people and, accidentally, a cultural journalist spilled a glass of wine over JB's immaculate pants, and this immediately cast a gloom over the star, who reappeared a few minutes later wearing another immaculate pair of pants.'  Antonio De La Fuente
   


In Brazil, two policemen in gray came to Joan's room at the São Paulo hotel to tell her the concert which was scheduled to take place at a church had been suspended. 
It was almost time for the concert already, so we went to the auditorium anyway. It was full of people, and Joan sat among the audience and they all sang a couple of songs a cappella. 

The poor policemen who came to the door seemed somewhat embarrassed and even a little impressed at Joan, but they still had to 'carry out their duty.'

In Nicaragua, the Home Secretary, commander Tomás Borge, was fascinated with Joan, so one evening after a concert in Managua, he took us all in convoy to have dinner at a restaurant.  It was almost midnight, so we were the only ones there. 

Given that Borge didn't speak English, I had to translate what he said.  It wasn't long until I started to feel uncomfortable, because it was evident that the Sandinista leader had romantic ideas about Joan.  He wanted to take her to 'see the volcano at night.'  Joan couldn't stop laughing because she found this all very amusing.

Instead of the volcano, Joan convinced the secretary to take us to a prison on the outskirts of Managua, where Somoza's ex-National Guards had been jailed.

We arrived there in convoy around two in the morning, and the prison chief took us all to see the prisoners, who were sleeping.

The lights turned on, and it must have been quite a surprise for them to see such a retinue of visitors.  Joan started to talk to some of the prisoners while I translated.  One of them, a man of about thirty years old, told her that they had locked him without any charges, and they hadn't even told him why he had been imprisoned. Joan asked me to tell Tomás Borge about this.  Borge called the prison warden and asked him about this man's case.  It wasn't clear what he was being accused of. Borge told the warden to let him free.   The guards went to this man's cell, grabbed his things and took him out as if they were going to let him free.  That seemed to be their intention but we never found out if they actually freed him that night.


I imagine Joan, you, and all the team must have felt really scared. Although Joan had spent 1972 Christmas enduring the Hanoi bombings, dictatorships were as deadly as a B-52.  If you ever saw her scared, when did you see her most scared? And how did Joan behave when in fear?
I never saw any sign of fear in her.  I saw her worried, frustrated, and sometimes impatient, but always in control of herself.  And we were practically all day together.

In general, I saw her suffer with people's stories, and also very worried about others, because of what might happen to them.  I think Joan was very conscious of the fact that her fame protected her, but that those she met would not necessarily have that same protection once she was gone. Remember that the military didn't want anything to happen to her in their country because that would have been an international scandal.  Now, there is a chance that she might have felt fear and I didn't realize it.  John Lennon had been murdered less than six months before in New York, which had cast a fateful shadow over a famous person's presence in a public street.

I personally felt really scared in Buenos Aires, on May 8.  After repairing the car's tires, I left everyone at a restaurant and went to call my wife, because my daughter had just been born.  When I came out, I realized I was being followed.  I got in the car and got paralyzed when I saw a couple of guys looking at me from the sidewalk. I thought 'What if they've put a bomb in the car?' Nothing happened.  But I felt extremely scared. The funny part is that when I headed towards the restaurant, I couldn't find it, so I parked and started walking.  The two guys were following me and I was very tired because of all the activities of the day and the birth of my daughter. Suddenly, I turned around and asked them point-blank: 'Where's Joan?'  They pretended not to know, but when I insisted, they pointed to a shop across the street.


You don't have to answer but, if I may ask, have you ever seen her cry?
No. I saw her impatient and in a bad mood a couple of times but generally she was solid as a rock.

What about singing? At that time she was said to be singing all the time.
I can't remember.  I remember she draw (fairly well) on a notebook.

In Nicaragua, one afternoon Joan and I were alone in the living room at the house we were staying in. While I was checking the equipment she was playing around with her guitar.  Suddenly, she asked me if I wanted to listen to any particular song.  I said No Woman No Cry.   And she began to play it.  That's when I took some of my favorite pictures of Joan.  It was a beautiful moment.


What a beautiful portrait. Was she always that simple?  Was her fame intimidating?
Joan always tried to be kind to people.  Once she saw me impatient and told me 'courage is grace under pressure', quoting Ernest Hemingway.

Her attitude was very consistent with her ideas of pacifism and respect for human rights, in the sense that there is no use in preaching those ideas if, at the same time, you treat others miserably. She clearly used her fame to get what she wanted, which to a great extent was to help the victims of human rights violations. 

I think she felt very comfortable with her fame.  Remember that she had been famous since she was twenty years old, so people's attention didn't affect her much.  She was very careful to always behave as if many people were looking at her.  I very rarely saw her lower her guard.
Something that really impressed me was the way that Joan's fame affected people.  Everyone tried to get close to her, and even I was treated differently when I was seen with her.  It was very weird.


What did you do with the documentary when you got back?
We began to organize all the material we had collected.  We transferred all rolls into video and started editing.  At the beginning of August we had a version that was little more than ninety minutes long.

Around September 1981 we went with Joan and Jeannie to Washington DC because she wanted to meet some politicians to let them know what she had learned in Latin America.  She also gave a concert, which we shot and which is the beginning of the documentary.  She had interviews with Ted Kennedy, representative Harkin, and many others who appear in the documentary. With this new material we created a one-hour version that we finished in March 1982.  We transferred it to 16 mm and had a premiere in San Francisco, another one in Los Angeles, and another one in Santa Barbara.  Then it was shown in national television in May that year.


What was the audience's reaction?
It was very positive in all three cities.  The last premiere was in Santa Barbara, and I was standing behind Joan watching the documentary.  When it finished, she told me she was proud of the work we had all done.


What was the fate of the documentary? Cinema festivals? Television in other countries?
The documentary received some awards in festivals (San Francisco State Broadcast Media Award; Mill Valley Film Festival, and others I can't remember).  I don't know if it was shown in other countries.


Were the victims of the dictatorships who appear in the documentary able to see it?
We sent a copy to the SERPAJ in Argentina and another one to Chile.  I don't know if they could show it to the public; most of it was in English, so that may have prevented it from getting to a wider audience.

There wasn't any money for subtitles?
That's right.  Nowadays it's much easier and cheaper to get subtitles, but back then, it wasn't.
Besides we had accomplished the main objective, which was to spread the news about the Southern Cone in the USA during the Reagan era.

Do you think Joan was able to recover the money she invested in the documentary?
The Southern Cone tour was a commercial failure because she couldn't give any concert in which tickets could be sold. Our expenses (mine and John's) were minimal, because in several countries we stayed at friends' homes to avoid paying for a hotel.  The documentary was shown at a national level in the USA, but it was in public TV, which generally pays very little for its documentaries. 


After spending a whole month with her, what did Joan Baez mean in your life?
Joan was a great source of inspiration, but I was so young that perhaps I couldn't realize at that time how special it was to be with her and experience what we did.  
Now, when I look back, I feel lucky for having lived such a historical experience.


What's the best thing you can say about her that almost no one knows?
Her life as a public figure has been examined to such an extent that I really doubt I can offer anything new.

What most impressed me about Joan was her great intelligence, her loyalty to her principles, and her sense of humor.  She's really funny in private and likes playing jokes.

She also has the ability to see very quickly the true character of the people she meets.


Did you keep seeing Joan after the tour?
Yes, we met several times during the edition of the documentary, and together with John, we shot several other interviews with her at her home.

We lost touch in 1983 after John Chapman's death.

You're currently doing an exhibition of Joan's photos from this historical tour.
Yes, the exhibition is called RECOLLECTIONS and it's at a gallery in La Cañada Flintridge (a Los Angeles suburb). 
The pictures can be seen at:






 Los Angeles, California, March 3, 2014
Translation by  ©Luciana Valente