Historias del laberinto

A sensorial performance created collectively with the community of Santa Cruz de Mompox, as part of the AIR program in Taller El Boga.

"Mompox does not exist", writes Gabriel García Márquez in the book "The General in his Labyrinth", a book whose echoes reverberate in the narrow streets of the town. For me, and for those who shared their stories with me, Mompox will always be alive and experienced with all the senses, ingrained in the memory of my body with the smell of corals and freshly fried arepas, chirping of yellow-bellied birds ("chIchA fria!, chIchA fria!"), and a calming sensation of waking up to the sound of rain.

I came to the island "stuck in time" to listen to the stories told by humans and non-humans. I found these stories in the cold and slimy river mud. In the insistent, if not demanding, meows of the cemetery cats. In the quiet movement of the rocking chairs, and not any rocking chairs - mecedoras momposinas.

The performance, created in collaboration with local artists and participants of the theater workshops in El Boga, invited the audience follow the thread through the labyrinth of alleyways, gardens and courtyards of Mompox, a route of places imbued with stories I was offered during the month of my residency. The participants were encouraged to feel, touch and listen to the city as I experienced it - to physically feel that, despite all its elusive magic, Mompox does, indeed, exist through our bodies.

Collective creation by:

Leonel Oviedo Caraballo
Marcela Rodríguez
Alessandra Rios Echavez
Tatiana Echavez Palmera
Sebastian Cura
Gabriela Herrera Rocha
Dulce Milagros Abreu Perez Alfonzo de la Reina
Sarah Isabella Escandon Perez
Julieth Morales
Luz
Eugenio “Chipi” Pacheco
Dagoberto Rodríguez Aleman
Kasia Zarzycka

Con gran apoyo de

Marcela Calderón
Estefanía Saenz
Gabriela
Giovanni Fernandez
Liliana Belleno
Nieves


Excerpt:

Casa del diablo

On the outskirts of the city stands a house with shabby walls. They say they painted it white in April, so that it doesn’t scare the visitors coming for the Holy Week celebrations, still, the paint came off faster than usual. You can see that it was once a beautiful house. Two-story, with a balcony and a balustrade, ornaments visible above the door. It must have once had a massive door, but now it has been replaced by nailed boards of dark wood. There is no glass in the windows, the shutters are closed, making it difficult to see what is left of it inside. They call it "casa del diablo" - the House of the Devil.
They say, murmuring as if not to be heard, that once there lived here a man who made a pact with the devil in exchange for eternal wealth. He had vast fields from which he drew profits, cattle and corn, and he needed fieldhands to work. At night, strange sounds could be heard coming from inside – scraping, as if someone was dragging something heavy across the wooden floor, banging against the wall, knocking, whispering and moaning. It was said that once someone entered the house, they never left. When going to collect their pay, the employee would meet not a man, but the devil, who with his bare claws tore his soul from the body in torment as payment for the wealth of the nobleman. The same nobleman whose grave in the cemetery on the other side of town bears the inscription “to the best father in the world”.
Lily lives next door to the Devil’s House. She is not afraid, because the wealthy man has died, and the souls that were supposed to be taken had been taken and will not return. There is no way out of Hell. But another devil lives in Mompox now. Another wealthy man, who has sworn the souls of those he looks at for the power to transform into animals. He often walks the streets of the barrio arriba. At the first sight he looks like a black dog, but you can see he’s a human - you see it in his eyes. They say, he can turn into a black bird and fly over the city like a bad omen. Lily tells me that all you have to do is not look at him and he'll leave you alone. The rich have many dark secrets and it's better to watch them from afar.
Salma, on the other hand, doesn't believe in the devil. In a village not far from here, there were also rumors of satanic pacts, but someone there spilled the beans that when the powerful landowners were short of money they would dress up in black robes themselves and invite their employees home on payday. They would trick the unwitting peasants, waiting for their paycheck, with the sounds and candles.



All photos by Estefanía Saenz