Humor to point out the painful

In writing La Changuita, the starting point was a setting that I found particularly appealing: a modest barbecue stand on the Costanera Sur. I sensed from the outset that this space could be fertile for unfolding a universe linked to Argentine popular culture, a territory I find both stimulating and inexhaustible for theatrical construction. The writing process stretched over almost four years, until I found a system of characters and a tone capable of enabling a perspective on the popular with humor and irony. Humor, in this sense, functions as a tool to point out the painful, the absurd, and that invisible violence that often permeates the links between identity, market, and spectacle. Thus, the themes that hover throughout the play—and which allow for multiple readings—are based on fragile and contradictory characters, allowing small subtleties of humanity to emerge. This shifting of all solemnity imbues the material with a sensitivity that interests me deeply.

Every time I write a play, I set myself certain challenges. The first is for the play to entertain, in the sense Mauricio Kartun puts it: "holding the audience in its element." It's not about creating superficial theater, but rather never losing sight of the living connection with the viewer. The goal is to capture their attention, sustain it, and ignite their enthusiasm. Another challenge that stimulates me is for the play to be permeated by ideas or issues that I'm interested in bringing into play, but always seeking to raise more questions than answers. I avoid any univocal interpretation, convinced that subordinating theatrical power to a closed message not only impoverishes the theatrical experience, but also condemns that same message to become harmless within that diminished experience. I'm not interested in "teaching" anything or indicating what one should think; I don't believe I have more to say about life, love, or politics than each viewer. What I seek is to provoke a sensitive, intense, and, hopefully, transformative experience. In La Changuita I feel there are many of those premises: it is a fun work, with a lot of humor, but capable of enabling multiple readings and perceptions.

The anecdote takes place at a run-down barbecue stand run by Gloria and José, the couple who own the place. That day they are accompanied by Antonio, Gloria's father, a marginalized poet from José C. Paz, an alcoholic, ailing, who survives thanks to a portable oxygen tube. While other stands along the Costanera are successfully converting to gourmet fashion and international cuisine, La Changuita sinks into the nostalgia of a local custom that no longer appeals to anyone. Gloria and José dream of transforming themselves and switching to Thai food, but lack the resources to do so. In the midst of the crisis, Andrew, an American influencer fascinated by Argentine popular culture, appears and organizes a contest with a $20,000 prize for the best "authentic story" of Argentine folklore. Faced with this possibility, Gloria, José, and Antonio devise a strategy to win. As the synopsis of the play states, Argentine popular culture, in its attempt to survive, disguises itself to hide what it no longer is. But it shows.

The staging is based on a realist aesthetic, which serves as an anchor for the progressive delirium of the actions. The set, costumes, and lighting construct a recognizable universe—that of a street-level roast meat stand—but allow for visual and symbolic excesses that intensify the poetics of the popular and tension the authentic with the artificial. The acting also works within a realist logic, interspersed with small expressive deviations that underscore the absurdity and sarcasm present in the text. I share the cast with Javier Barceló, Graciana de Lamadrid, and Aníbal Tamburri, and the assistant director is Romina Puig.

*Author, director and member of the cast of La Changuita.