After having been fascinated by Ma. Soledad Lacson-Locsin’s remarkable translation of Dr. Jose Rizal’s “
Noli Me Tangere,” I was more than eager to watch this dark, brooding novel as a musical on stage. I thought that it would be nice to see the novel’s assorted characters come to life – in a three-dimensional milieu that would approximate the oppressive atmosphere in the country in the late 19th century which was brought about by the tyrannical rule of the Spanish friars and the
guardia civil. It would be great to watch them act their individual and collective roles in Rizal’s highly-acclaimed tragic narrative; and in a musical at that.
As I was seated inside CCP Tanghalang Aurelio Tolentino, waiting for the theatre to be filled up, I surveyed the stage – almost barren except for the flight of narrow platforms that stretched the whole width of the stage. To me, it was reminiscent of an expansive adobe stair from the
zaguan up to the
caida of a turn-of-the-century
bahay na bato or, perhaps, some steps made of
piedra China as could be found in town plazas, churches, and cemeteries in some ancient locales of the country. Suspended around the rear and the left and right sides of this long and narrow flight of steps was a continuous row of panels with black frames and white translucent squares which I imagined to be stylized
capiz windows. And I thought that I would be viewing the play from a window looking out to a plaza, a lake, or a cemetery; or from the outside looking through the window into the more intimate areas of a house, a convent, or a
cuartel, as it were. With the starkly minimalist stage setting, my mind wandered around for metaphorical imagery.
And it was the simplicity of the stage setting with the barest props – a divan of wooden frame and
solihiya, a
baul and old suitcases, a worn-out harp, rattan baskets of fruits and flowers, fighting cocks, a crocodile, a banca, a bamboo raft, buntings and pennants, tombs and crosses, and such other pieces of furniture and peculiar objects that were brought by the actors and actresses themselves and strategically laid out on the stone steps as various scenes unfold - that set off and highlighted the portrayal of Rizal’s tragic tale of romance, lust, treachery, oppression, idealism, and heroism. The stage lighting had a lot to do with the imagery, as well; as it effectively evoked different atmospheres apropos of the thematic situations being illuminated.
The musical score was endearing with a hint of
kundiman to set the local color and a dash of contemporary pop-rock for a feel of Broadway and West End verve. It had varying tempos, beats, and rhythms that set the various moods and characters being portrayed. Sad. Melancholic. Mirthful. Downcast. Hopeful. Loquacious. Bitter. Remorseful. Cathartic. It went hand in glove with the libretto in an engaging and mellifluous manner. The narrative of the novel, creatively transformed into elegant verses in Tagalog and expressively sung by the different characters, was vividly conveyed to the audience, who, even as they were totally gripped by the brilliant performance of the actors and actresses, were treated to wonderfully choreographed movements of the performers on stage. The period costumes like Ibarra’s black overcoat, Maria Clara’s
mestiza ternos, the cotton and
sinamay camisas, and the variety of
baro’t saya lent an authentic
fin-de-siecle ambience to the story.
There were several remarkable scenes and characters throughout the play, notably: the exhumation of Don Rafael Ibarra’s decaying corpse that was thrown by the gravediggers into the lake, the welcome party for Crisostomo Ibarra at Capitan Tiago’s house at Anloague Street, the lover’s tryst at the
azotea, the picnic by the lake, the killing of the crocodile, Padre Salvi’s discovery of Dona Pia Alba’s incriminating letters to Padre Damaso, the death by a granite block at the inauguration of the school, the purported rebellion that shed blood in stylized red sheets flowing on the stone steps, the unceremonious dropping of two dead bodies hanging from above the rafters (apparently those of Lucas’ and the Sacristan Mayor’s who were Padre Salvi’s major accomplices in the purported rebellion), the strangling and aborted killing of Padre Damaso by Ibarra, the holier-than-thou pronouncements of the veiled
manangs in their black
baro’t saya, the intense banca ride of Elias and Ibarra in the dead of night, and such other imageries that were altogether visually appealing. Sisa, by her lonesome, or together with the pitiable Basilio, invariably tugged at the heartstrings.
Capitan Tiago, singing and prancing in front of the
santos on his altar, was humorous. Don Tiburcio and Dona Victorina de Espadana, with their grotesque visages, were hilarious. The town leper, symbolic of the cancer that was eating the flesh of the colonial society, was a striking image as he huddled about the stage even as he foreshadowed the shunning of Ibarra by the town of San Diego for having been excommunicated and falsely accused of rebellion. The adulterous and domineering Padre Damaso was contemptible. The evil-scheming and lecherous Padre Salvi, who lusted for Maria Clara and plotted Ibarra’s downfall, was despicable. The mysterious Elias was magnanimous in life and in death as he offered his own life to save Ibarra’s. Extreme anguish enveloped Maria Clara as she painfully learned of the unfortunate circumstances of her birth. And with the lamentable parting of Crisostomo Ibarra and Maria Clara, a great number of people in the theatre were left teary-eyed.
“
Noli Me Tangere” was a sadly beautiful tapestry of a story that was marvellously woven and performed on stage. Bravo!
23 August 2011
