From the Executive Director

Speed Dating in Bogotá

By Teresa Eyring

There’s a widely held perception that Colombia is a place to visit at your own peril. It remains on a list of 28 countries for which the U.S. State Department has issued “travel warnings,” instructing U.S. citizens to watch out for such dangers as kidnappings and guerillas in the countryside. A complex, decades-long armed conflict rages on, largely between the Colombian government and the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), a rebel group that finances its operations through ransom, extortion and narco-trafficking.

Less known is that Colombia hosts one of the world’s largest international theatre festivals, the Festival Iberoamericano de Teatro de Bogotá. Masterminded by Fanny Mikey—actress, producer, entrepreneur, flaming redhead and serious cultural icon for Colombia—the festival brings together more than 100 companies from around the globe, curates an outdoor street theatre series and creates a Ciudad Teatro (“Theatre City”) on Bogotá’s exhibition grounds, Corferias. It seems as if the entire community is working on, attending or, at the very least, extolling the virtues of the festival. Its impact is so far-reaching that in El Tiempo’s 2007 online poll of Colombia’s Top 10 cultural figures of the last decade, Fanny Mikey came in first—ahead of superstar pop-singers Juanes (who came in second) and Shakira (who landed fourth place).

Thanks to the Festival’s VIA (Ventana Internacional de las Artes) program, spearheaded this year by Margarita Posada as general director and Juan Escobar as producer, 50-plus presenters, producers and administrators from 15 or so countries attended for the festival’s second week, which focused on the work of Latin American companies. I was invited to participate, along with my colleague Sergi Torres. In the weeks before VIA began, the Colombian government attacked members of the FARC on Ecuadorian soil, causing Ecuador and Venezuela to sever diplomatic ties with Colombia and to order troops to the borders. While the tensions diminished prior to our travel there, we all wondered how the festival might have been affected if there had been a continued escalation in the conflict. In conversations with the staff on this topic, I got the impression that FITB would have gone on no matter what. And besides, the weather gods were more powerful this year than the warlords: It actually did rain (torrentially) on the festival’s opening parade, causing that event to be postponed for a day.

At more than 8,000 feet above sea level and backed by mountain peaks, Bogotá is a lovely city with an impressive range of theatre spaces. In addition to street locations, there were 23 theatre venues for the festival. The Colombian company Mapa Teatro occupies what appears to be an old row house, with high ceilings and distressed walls. A giant staircase leads to a reception/parlor area with tiny balconies overlooking the street, and performances are in a tiny black box that, for the festival, housed the visually stunning Ansío los Alpes: Así nacen los lagos ( Longing for the Alps: This is how lakes are born). The hip Teatro Libre del Centro, in the historic La Candelaria neighborhood, is a gem of a space, with a large lobby café and a 100-or-so-seat wingless performance space. It was the venue for an excellent production of Los Ojos del Hermano Eterno’s Simplemente el fin del mundo, directed by Manuel Orjuela. And, on the opposite end of the spectrum, the glorious Teatro de Cristóbal Colón presented Colombian-born director Omar Porras and his Geneva-based Teatro Malandro performing Brecht’s Mr. Puntila and His Man Matti.

In order to ensure that visitors had face time with the companies, the Bogotá chamber of commerce, in collaboration with VIA, offered an elaborate online scheduling system that enabled us to arrange 20-minute informational sessions. On each of four mornings, we met at a “business center,” where we bounced from table to table honoring our pre-arranged dates. During these sessions (as well as late-night post-theatre conversations) I learned that Medellín, in addition to much-touted improvements in quality of life and safety, has an active theatre scene. Sergio Dávila Llinás, from the company Matacandelas, gave me the lowdown on the beloved 13-member ensemble based there—they are known for an intense process of developing work, sharing resources and committing to the study of history, philosophy and global issues. I also met members of Teatro Hora 25, another group from Medellín, there to present its award-winning production of Electra, contemporized with unmistakable references to Colombia’s history of complex internal conflict.

Several companies talked about the importance of their work in bringing dignity to young people in the poorest and/or remotest areas of their country. One celebrated example is El Colegio del Cuerpo, which trains thousands of the poorest children of Cartagena in dance and the power of the body. The kids train as they grow up, with the possibility of becoming part of a professional company that tours internationally.

Toward the end of our stay, I had an inspiring meeting with Guillermo Restrepo Echeverri, head of production for the festival and producer for the Teatro Nacional in Colombia. When asked about the financing for this massive endeavor, he sketched out for me the international pie-chart of theatre economics. He explained that the first slice represents sponsorship, the second slice is government support, the third is ticket sales—and as he blacked in the last slice, he said, “And here’s where we hold our breath and pray.” This festival has clearly been an act of faith and a labor of love over its 20-year history—and the love, in particular, is hard to miss.