An original work created by Raymond Bobgan and the Teatro Publico de Cleveland ensemble. Directed by Raymond Bobgan.
October 22, 2015 - October 24, 2015
6:30pm (preshow music and Latin food) | 7:30pm (show). Performances Thu/Fri/Sat. DJ and dancing to follow Friday and Saturday shows, Gordon Square Theatre
¿Dónde Está My Home? (Where is Mi Hogar) weaves hometown legends, ancestral stories and haunting tales into a story that celebrates the multiplicity of Latin American identities in the Cleveland community.
In this imaginative tale, we explore the meaning of home. Is home a place? A memory? A connection? A mother? As the story unfolds, a diverse cast of storytellers spin tales of lost memories, twisted ghosts, ancient trees and hidden knowledge, weaving together a joyful mosaic of what home means to us. Created and written by CPT’s Executive Artistic Director Raymond Bobgan and the ensemble cast of amateur and professional performers, ¿Dónde Está My Home? is a creative and poignant celebration of life and connection to community.
Performances include live music before the show, Latin food and a post-show dance party every Friday and Saturday. Thursday shows are “Family Nights,” with deeply reduced tickets for youth under 18. World Premiere
Preshow music on all nights at 6:30pm. 10/22 - Mambo Caliente 10/23 - Latin Jazz Players 10/24 - Conjunto Afinque
DJ and Dancing to follow Friday and Saturday performances. 10/23 - DJ Vic 10/24 - DJ Hector
Tickets: $12-25; Thursday is Family Night ($12 adults, $6 tickets for kids <18)
Check out Raymond Bobgan and members of the Teatro Publico de Cleveland ensemble – Blanca Salva, Mόnica A. Cerpa Zúñiga and Jason Estremera discussing Dónde Está My Home with Myra Rosario. The interviews start at 15:48!
about teatro publico de cleveland
Teatro Publico de Cleveland is a community-based, ensemble theatre group in residence at Cleveland Public Theatre (CPT). Teatro Publico ensemble members collaborate with CPT artists to create and perform plays based in the traditions of Latino culture and inspired by the creativity and life experiences of the ensemble.
People always ask me the same questions… Those that only my silence responds. Not because I am not nice. They are not evasive, but sincere answers that can only be responded to with silence:
Why did you leave?
What made you decide that?
Why the United States?
Would you go back?
Do you like your new life?
What is it that you did not like about your old life?… Et cetera… Et cetera
There are thousands… thousands of questions that, in the end, seemed as if it were just one – but with echoes. As if inside me there’s an empty cavern full of emptiness, nothing at all, where the most rocking of whispers makes a horrible echo that drives you nuts – it startles you and it frightens you like nothing you ever experienced. Until… one way or another, I hear the music of silence.
It is magic music, full of harmony, the kind that you never heard before. It tastes like tango, the sweet song of a bandoneón, the soft whisper of a violin, the hoarse vibration of a cello… the gray terciopelo of a piano that tears the soul.
This kind of music makes me close my eyes and stare at silence from another point of view. The one of life itself.
There are no words to describe what one feels. When you leave everything for a dream. Or even worse… for the circumstances that take you to day dream. To leave behind your loved ones, at an airport; with tears in the eyes and the different looks that in unison were like the same silence; that silence that answers without knowing so many things.
The looks that simply asks… “Will we ever see each other again?”
“It was 22 years since I went back to my home in Puerto Rico. There was a lot of sadness. People that were around the street are not there anymore. When I see my house, it’s like when I see a ghost. You see ghosts. In the island, you are going back to the ghost. The life is a ghost because you are not there anymore. You see shadows from the past. People, little kids, friends running around the house, that’s what you see. That what I saw. It’s not the same but it’s still around in memories.”
BLANCA: “We had this claw foot tub and I used to looove pretending that claw foot tub became an actual lion that came to life while I was in my bath, and I’m this fairy riding this claw foot lion. The bubbles were his hair, you know. But when my mother was being abused and my father would come and beat her, she would make me run to bathroom and hide me underneath the tub because I was so skinny and little. They would hide me underneath that tub. So it was like my sanctuary space. So I went back, the claw tub was gone, they put a regular shower bathroom and I was like ‘It’s goone?! Where would they run to if dad came home?’ and I had to remind myself this isn’t my house anymore, it’s somebody else’s house. So that’s the thing when you go back. You go back with this expectation that when you walk in there you can see and relive these moments… and you go back and see all that’s changed and you’re like, ‘they ruined my memory here.'”