Vozes Dissonantes (review)

Vozes Dissonantes. By Denise Stoklos. Teatro Sesc-Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro. 9 June 2000.

Denise Stoklos's most recent solo performance, Vozes Dissonantes (Dissonant Voices) is a raw yet optimistic look into Brazil's 500 year history. A collection of texts by numerous Brazilian citizens who raised their voices against social injustice throughout the centuries, Vozes Dissonantes was commissioned by the Comissão do V Centenário (Fifth Century Commission) to be one of the events celebrating the country's 500th birthday. When the Comissão was dissolved, the Executive Committee that replaced it did not approve of the piece. In spite of the lack of support, Stoklos decided to perform Vozes Dissonantes. The piece opened last December in São Paulo, followed by performances in Curitiba and Rio de Janeiro (later this year Vozes Dissonantes will travel to Europe and the United States). Ironically, while most events sponsored by the Brazilian government for the celebration were a fiasco, Vozes Dissonantes instantly won the hearts of its audience with its unconditional honesty.

The theatre's doors opened to a packed house moments before the performance began. Similar to other Stoklos Essential Theatre productions, the set, by her daughter Thais Stoklos Kignel, was dry and functional. The bare arena stage of Rio de Janeiro's Teatro Sesc-Copacabana held only one chair, a book, and an intriguing sculpture made of transparent hoses hanging from the ceiling over the center of the playing area. Lighting designer Fernando Jacon used light to draw geometrical shapes on the black floor, subtly adding emotional appeal to the piece. Rectangles suggested the claustrophobic cells often occupied by the men and women Stoklos portrayed in Vozes Dissonantes, while broader circular areas offered a metaphoric luminosity to their experiences.

Stoklos entered and joyfully greeted the audience. She wore black, her blond spiked hair a little longer than usual, the dark roots showing more. The audience immediately recognized in Stoklos a compatriot incarnating the role of trickster, always ready to change, to tease, and to laugh. Stoklos used the rhythm and style of stand-up comedy at the beginning of the play. She smiled and opened herself to the spectators while the audience laughed at her critical jokes about Brazil's political contradictions and President Fernando Henrique Cardoso. As soon as the audience relaxed, Stoklos switched to a more serious tone. Giving voice to the words of other Brazilians with whom she shares libertarian beliefs, Stoklos openly spoke of class difference, torture, hunger, slavery, exile, and other painful aspects of Latin America's long history of colonialism and ideological oppression.

Even more so than Stoklos's previous pieces, Vozes Dissonantes was an exercise in active reflection. I have always been impressed with her ability to establish empathy with audiences, but this time the bond Stoklos created was truly incredible. From the beginning, spectators felt comfortable enough to interject and respond to her comments. At various times the audience broke into applause, warmly interrupting the flow of the piece.

The texts in Vozes Dissonantes were authored by libertarian figures from the time when Brazil was a Portuguese colony (Tiradentes, José Bonifácio) through the years of military dictatorship (Frei Tito, Milton Santos). At times Stoklos enacted these figures and at times she simply retold the stories that shaped her country's memory. Particularly poignant was the segment about Iara Yavelberg, a young activist who lived under cover during the years of military dictatorship. Addressing the audience directly, Stoklos imagined a morning that Iara probably got up and went to the bathroom, stared at her face in the mirror, thought about her day, brushed her hair, and took a shower. This uneventful morning unexpectedly turns, however, when her doorbell rings: the young woman realizes the military police have arrived to take her away. In a split second Iara chooses to commit suicide--her only alternative to torture. At this point, Stoklos ceased speaking and simply looked at the audience, who were moved to profound sadness and indignation. Without using any text, Stoklos quietly re-enacted this...