I went to see Don Juan this past
weekend. No, that's not a reggaeton DJ. It's a historical play. I was too excited about Gibraltar to tell you all earlier. Also, I
wanted to be fair in my portrayal and I was too confused afterwards to properly
recount the evening.
Think James Bond meets Hugh Hefner. The concept of a ‘Don
Juan’ is world-famous and has been for centuries. Turns out, the legend was
born here in Sevilla, after Don Juan del Temorio made a bet with a friend to
see who could kill more hombres and bed more mujeres in one year. On the night
the bet comes to an end, all hell breaks loose. Friendships are destroyed, schemes
are made, nuns are corrupted, and swords are swashbuckled. Ultimately, on his
Judgement Day, Don Juan finds salvation in divine compassion because this story
was written many centuries ago. Instead of being a pimp who took names, he
suddenly succumbs to the glory of Catholicism and change his ways. I see the
ending as more tragic than spiritually uplifting. He died brutally, and he didn’t
stick to his game. Don Juan spent his days running the show. He was the first
ever player. Everyone loved to hate him and hated that they loved him. What happened?
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| Don Juan: Before he gets humiliated by G. |
So, why am I telling you this whole tale? So it makes sense
when I say I did not understand the last scene of the play at all. I knew what
was going to happen all along because a friend’s host father took us on a 75
minute tour of Sevilla, reading us lines of the play and stopping at various
city locales that relate to the show on the way. It was long and at times, his
excitement was overly infectious, but I learned a lot and saw some sweet
things. 1. The alleged bar that Don Juan and his buddy made their bet. Still a
bar, hundreds of years later. Next to what used to be a monk-run hospital. Not
there anymore. 2. A statue to Don Juan that I vividly remember visiting with my
Spain/Israel 08 tour group. There’s a picture of us there. Weird déjà vu type
feeling. 3. Palm trees in Sevilla, with bottles of medicine stuck into the bark
– the tropical delights are perishing from an awful virus! This had nothing to
do with the show, but it’s a fun fact.
After over an hour of walking, nodding, and smiling at this
very kind man, I arrived at the show on the complete other side of Sevilla with
no way to easily get home. Great.
The line was around the corner. Production of the year. We
go inside and it seems as though the play is ending, the actors are horrible,
and I am quite confused. Turns out the play was a play about a play. Scenes
alternated between actuation of Don Juan, in full 1600s garb, and a ‘director’
in a suit and jeans screaming at the ‘cast’ who actually was the cast, playing
a cast doing a production of Don Juan. Now that’s some meta stuff.
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| Sevillanos believe this really happened. |
While I definitely didn’t get every word of the antiquated
or colloquial Spanish, I met the two plays somewhere in between. The full
theater experience can now be crossed off my imaginary Study Abroad bucket list
of shows. So far, I’ve hit up two outdoor concerts, a romantic comedy, a documentary
of dance, a contemporary dance company show, and a Spanish guitar quartet!? I
am such a good friend of the arts.
Though the intellectual arts have been quite enjoyable, I’m
going to try to fit in some Spanish karaoke next week. Juanes? Shakira? David
Bisbal? David Guetta? Anything from America sung in an awkward Spanglish
accent? Should be great.
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