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On: 29 April 2014, At: 09:29
Publisher: Routledge
Informa Ltd Registered in England and Wales Registered Number: 1072954 Registered office: Mortimer House,
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To cite this article: Diana Taylor & Roselyn Costantino (2000) Holy terrors: Latin American women perform, Women &
Performance: a journal of feminist theory, 11:2, 7-24, DOI: 10.1080/07407700008571329
To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/07407700008571329
INTRODUCTION
HOLY TERRORS:
LATIN AMERICAN WOMEN PERFORM
Diana Taylor and Roselyn Costantino
INTRODUCTIONS
"Amerique Latine," like "America," are European constructionsthe first coined in mid-191" century France to refer to countries in the Americas colonized by Spain and Portugal, the second
in honor of Italian explorer, Amerigo Vespucci, who first argued that
the newly "discovered" Iandmass was not, in fact, Asia. There is no
general consensus about how many countries make up Latin
America: does Puerto Rico count as a country or as a U.S. "commonwealth"? Does the term include French speaking countries such
as Haiti and Martinique (usually), or English-speaking or Dutchspeaking countries such as Trinidad or Surinam (often not)?
Nonetheless, for all the problems with the term, it does have some
virtues for Latin Americans themselves. In the 19 tn century, Simon
Bolivar labored to unite Latin America under one political banner,
convinced that only by uniting could these countries defend themselves from external political and economic pressures. At the end of
the 19 l " century, Jose Marti wrote "Nuestra America" (Our
America) to urge Latin Americans to wake up and get to know each
other before the giant from the North with the big boots crashed
down among them. The current economic treaty among nations in
the southern cone, MERCOSUR, basically echoes the belief that
political and economic independence lies in unity.
For all the disparities of ethnic background, class, and racial privilege, these women share certain histories of social engagement that
allow us to think about them as "Latin American" artists. If geopolitical identity has less to do with "essence" than with conditions of
(im)possibility, then it becomes easier to see how these artists tackle
systems of power that date back to colonial times: Church domination, political oligarchy and dictatorship, and the pervasive sexism
and racism encoded in everything from education to "scientific"
eugenics efforts, to theories of mestizaje and progress. Each, in her
own way, uses performance as a means of making a political intervention in a socio-political context that is repressive when not
overtly violent. Some make their political intervention through
writingwhether it's a manifesto, a cartoon, or a play. Others participate in embodied performances that signal a break from accepted
practice by forming a feminist collective, building an installation,
or abandoning one's traditional dress.
These artists have grown up and worked in periods of extreme
social disruptionwhether it was Argentina's "Dirty War" (197683), or the Brazilian military dictatorship (1964-1984), or the
decades of civil conflict and criminal violence in Colombia, or the
INTRODUCTION 11
the implementation of the "Holy Inquisition" in the 16*" century,
the Catholic Church has sided with civil authorities in the repression of disenfranchized groupsJews, native Americans, African
Americans, and, of course, women. During the "Dirty War,"
Catholic priests blessed the military's weapons with holy water and
turned in "subversives" who revealed their dissidence during confession. The Church continues to meddle with issues pertaining to
women. The Vatican has ruled against birth control, divorce, and
equal opportunity and access for women in a number of areas. It
opposed the Platform for Equal Rights for Women presented at 1995
Fourth World Conference on Women at Beijing and has continued
to try to dismantle the gains made in the fields of reproductive rights,
civil liberties, and education. As women working in deeply
entrenched Catholic societies, these women have become "holy
terrors," taking on not only the authorities, but the systems of belief
that demand that they behave like obedient, subservient creatures.
These artists need to work on many levels simultaneously in their
fight for cultural participation: access to space, to resources, to
authority, and to audienceslocal, national, and international. Most
of these artists have forged their own spacephysical and/or professionalto stage their aesthetic and political acts of resistance.
Some clearly needed to find their own ways of working, having been
closed out or pushed out of existing groups or organizations.
Jesusa Rodriguez and her partner Liliana Felipe, an Argentine
musician, singer and performer started their first cabaret/performance space, El cuervo (the Crow), in 1980 and then El habito (the
Habit) cabaret and El Teatro de la Capilla (the Chapel Theatre) in
1990. Rodriguez, like Astrid Hadad, began training at the Center for
University Theatre of Mexico's National Autonomous University
one of Latin America's major centers for the production and promotion of world-class theatre. Like Hadad, she was repulsed by the
male-run and artistically-limited and limiting nature of Mexico's
theatre and cultural institutions. Both left before finishing the
program and moved into the margins to work independently. (As an
a aside, to explain how women were treated by the male directors,
all well known and still active today, both Rodriguez and Hadad
recount mean-spirited comments hurled at them: Hadad was told
she was wasting her talent by pursing her style of performance which
wasn't theatre at all, and Rodriguez was told she had no right to be
onstage because she was too ugly.)
INTRODUCTION 13
Diana Raznovich, as a dramatist
and cartoonist, works mostly by
herself in Buenos Aires, though
she too serves on the board of
Argentina's writer's union
Argentores. Griselda Gambaro
has gained major recognition
and is consistently produced in
Argentina's most prestigious
theatres. But for all her success,
she has until recently been the
sole woman to be included in
any project. Hers is usually the
only female name in Latin
American theatre festivals and
anthologies. It's been hard and
Griselda Gambaro's
it's been lonely, she admits with
Antigona Furiosa
her usual love of understatement.
While their artistic goals, media, and strategies varyone thing
remains constant: these women unsettle. Through their use of
humor, irony, parody, citationality, inversions and diversions, their
art complicates and upsets all the dogmas and convictions that dominant audiences hold near and dear. This is the art of the "outside."
These artists, holy terrors, take on the sacred cows. They fight for
the freedom to act up, act out, and call the shots. Denise Stoklos
rails openly against those whom she feels participate in the continuing travesty of Brazilian politics. Sometimes with humor, sometimes with raw indignation, she makes sure she
gets her views across. In
500 years: A Fax from
Denise Stoklos to Columbus, she explores the
role of the artist, the
intellectual, the theatre,
and the audience in the
tragic history of her
. , , .
..
.
,
country. "Read it," she
Denise Stoklos mCasa rails against the
,. ..,
,, ' .,
s ys
travesty of Brazilian politics
* :
" * *" m 'Je
7
books. Later, once the
should stifle their laughter, swallow it, block it, turn it into a cry, a
perpetual and dismal "ay ay ay." Jesusa Rodriguez and Liliana Felipe
likewise turn their formidable talents to making fun of repressive
social systems and the audience's complicity with them. And after
a night of political satire, non-stop directas e indirectas, they remind
their audience: "Seremos cabronas, pero somos las patronas." This
is their space, their art,
their turn, and they
have no intention of
giving it up.
The artists, though
committed to the disruption of oppressive
norms, share no ideological or political posi-
(Jesusa
Rodriguez,
T-ix? ir\>
_.
_
. ,, .
_ .
Diana Raznovichs\nner Gardens
INTRODUCTION 15
mascara. For others, like Stoklos,
solo performance allows them to
carry on the politics of the one.
Even so, "solo" doesn't mean
"alone." Stoklos, for example, is
always in conversation, artistically
and ideologically, with others who
have fought for freedom. Her last
words to the late Brazilian singer
Elis Regina, in her one-woman
homage by that name, maps out the
trajectory of solidarityStoklos
quotes Regina who in turn sings
one of Mercedes Sosa's most
famous lines, "Yo tengo tantos hermanos que no los puedo contar...."
Teatro La Mascara in their
(I have so many brothers/sisters
that I can't count them all). Astrid 1995 production A Flor de Piel
Hadad, even though accompanied by her musicians, is very much a
"solo" actcombining her songs (well-known boleros, rancheras,
tnariachi pieces, and other Mexican and Latin American forms) with
performances that call attention to the way these popular forms
encapsulate and transmit violent cultural fantasies. She, like many
of these artists, takes on the Catholic Church, the State and its
authorities; the reigning norms of taste and value; and any and all
certainties pertaining to appropriate gender and sexual roles.
These artiststhough courageous and transgressive in a number
of unexpected waysnonetheless belong to a tradition of outspoken women performers and artists. Their performances (as suggested above) pay tribute to, and often "cite," the paths of trailblazers in various arts in the 20 t n century throughout Latin
America: Mercedes Sosa, Elis Regina, La Lupe, Chabuca Granda,
Frida Kahlo, Lucha Reyes, Chavela Vargas, Rosario Castellanos and
Alfonsina Storni, to name a few.3 These earlier artists had already
challenged the limits and restrictions imposed on them by the racist,
misogynist, and homophobic world in which they worked. Singers
like the puertoriquena La Lupe had defiantly answered her male,
homophobic critics in her songs: "According to your point of view/
I am the bad one," while Chavela Vargas was notorious in Mexico
for picking up female admirers in the clubs and singing her love
songs exclusively to women. Chabuca Granda, from Peru, has re-
INTRODUCTION 11
satire, and humor of the sketchs and carpa provided ample opportunity for artists and citizens to express themselves and their criticism
of all aspects of lifepolitical, economic, social, and cultural.
In this way, from the 1880s until the 1930s, people from all over
Latin America, from all social classes of the growing urban population and the provinces, mingled and participated in the ritual of
some local version oiteatrofrivolo. Writers drew their material from
daily events in the cities and throughout the provinces. Theatre and
song transmitted news and information, voiced sociopolitical criticism, and created a sense of nationhood, of national identity. Realistic and symbolic charactersincluding the street vagrant, the revolutionary, fancy cowboys, the innocent virgin, the prostitute, the
rancher, students, dancing skeletons, politicians, the cabaret diva,
and the drunkwere constructed through iconic gestures and
spoken through popular language characterized by the use ofalbures
and lunfardo, plays on words and puns with double meanings, often
with sexual connotations. Highlighted are the rich oral traditions of
popular classes imbued with an agile sense of humor and the use of
language that produces some of the most fascinating linguistic play
in the Spanish language (which also makes the translation of some
of this work difficult). This oral tradition also surfaces in the lyrics
of songs (boleros, corridas ranchera, tango, musica romdntica) which
INTRODUCTION 19
happen tomorrow," she reminds us. Life in Mexico is a crap shoot,
as fickle and as arbitrary as "la loteria nacional"a national game
along the lines of "Bingo." The audience plays and the objective lies
in being the first to fill one's board. The boards and the cards
which usually reflect traditional images such as the heart, the cactus,
the drunk, Death, the moon, the mermaid, and so forth, have been
updated to reflect Mexico's current national figuresthe wetback,
the coyote, marijuana, the ATM machine, and the cellular phone.
At the end of the game, things end the way they always do in
Mexico, with raucous accusations by actors and audience alike of
corruption and fraud.
Within the formulaic, "frivolous," and flexible framework of this
short art form, then, artists have found a broad range of possibilitiesfrom the merciless critique by Gambaro to the more playful,
yet equally trenchant attack by Jesusa Rodriguez. Astrid Hadad has
taken up a variation of this form by staging her forceful political
intervention within the traditional genre of a cabaret performance.
She sings some of Mexico's most beloved songs, only to make
explicit the violence embedded in the popular imaginary. "Me
pegasta tanto anoche" (You beat me so much last night), she sings,
holding herself up on crutches, her arm in a sling, her head bandaged. Between the songs, she carries on her political analysis: How
is Coatlicue, the Aztec mother of the gods, the same as and different from the Virgin Mary? Both got pregnant by some mysterious
immaculate conceptionCoatlicue swallowed a feather as she
swept, while the Virgin Mary was filled by the Holy Spirit. The difference? Well, Coatlicue, like all "Third World" women, was
working like a beast of burden, while her "First World" counterpart
could dedicate herself to prayer.
Astrid Hadad (like Jesusa Rodriguez, Diana Raznovich, and
Sabina Berman) also focuses on the politics of representation itself.
In her performances, she takes on some of the most "Latin American" of icons. Her costumes, elaborate constructions representing
Coatlicue, or a Diego Rivera painting, or some other famous figure,
make literal a highly coded system of stereotypical images. The set
design for her piece Heavy Nopal, for example, includes a huge
cactus, a large stuffed heart, and many of the other images people
associate with Mexico. She aims to subvert the images that have regulated the formulation of gender identity for Mexican women (from
sainted motherthe Virgin of Guadalupe or Coatilcue, the Mexicana "mother" of all Mexicansto the macho woman with high
INTRODUCTION 21
strengthened the resolve and even militancy of many women who
could not accept the inhuman restrictions imposed on them and
their families. Even women, like the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo,
who had never thought of themselves as "political" took to the
streets. This period saw the rise of women's political mobilization
in numerous ways: grassroots organizations, feminist groups, militancy. Another reason for the increased visibility of women throughout Latin America is economic crisis and the migrations of male
workers: more women have been forced to work outside the home
even though social mores continue to stress that a "woman's place
is in the home." Concomitantly with new market demands, women
have increased access to education and, thus, the professions.
Foreign influences, omnipresent in mass media and technology, have
also changed "local" perceptions and expectations. NAFTA, MERCOSUR and other "global" market initiatives facilitate access to
consumer goods and ideas. And, of course, people travel more than
ever, whether as tourists or as immigrants, destabilizing rigid
borders and stable identity markers. All these factors contribute to
the enhanced visibility and activity of womenalbeit slowly
throughout Latin America.
In the last decades of the 20th century, then, we witness an emergence of styles that draw directly on various popular forms and
emphasize the relation between performance and the visual arts.
The simultaneously intimate and public nature of these performance
styles contributes to attempts to interrupt social and aesthetic
systems, and to motivate and rehearse civic participation with the
spectators. The artists also put into visible circulation the traditions
that characterize Latin American cultures, so imbued with global
influences deriving from complicated histories and social circumstancesin Nestor Garcia Canclini's words, its "multitemporal heterogeneity" (3). They remind us that the much-glorified "Indigenous Past" elides the very present predicament of impoverished
native communities relegated both to the "past" and to the economic
margins. The colonial legacy of Hispanic and Roman Catholic institutions continues to exude its power, and specters of inquisitorial
scrutinizing and prohibitions continue to haunt the present. Patriarchy permeates and structures all social formations at the macroand micro-level. Meanwhile, the cultural imperialism of the U.S.
threatens to relegate performance interventions into the off off off
shadowlands of neo-colonialismpoor Latin America, so far from
God, so close to the United States, as the joke goes. Rather than
INTRODUCTION 23
Notes
1. The selection of the people included here is limited, unfortunately, due to several circumstances. The good news is that there are
far too many women artists, if we include singers, performers, playwrights and directors, to include in a single volume. The bad news
is that some of the essays on artists that we very much wanted to
includeRosa Luisa Marquez, Petrona de la Cruz Cruz, Isabel
Juarez Espinosa, Teresa Rallicould not be included in this volume.
The editors see their work in this field, as well as the field itself, as
very much in progress.
2. Puerto Ricans, although they hold U.S. citizenship and passports, are not allowed to vote in U.S. presidential elections.
3. This list is in no way exhaustive. As scholars and practitioners
uncover and take a closer look at archives and cultural artifacts, and
as we rewrite theory to displace the systems of valorization that have
marginalized or ignored much artistic production, the number of
women shown to have significantly impacted the Latin American
social and cultural landscapes grows.
Works Cited
Costantino, Roselyn. 2000. "Performance in Mexico: Jesusa
Rodriguez's Body in Play." In Corpus Delecti. Performance in
Latin America, ed. Coco Fusco, 63-77. London, NY: Routledge.
. 2000. "And She Wears it Well: Feminist and Cultural
Debates in the Work of Astrid Hadad." In Latinas on Stage,
eds. Alicia Arrizn and Lillian Manzor, 398-421. Berkeley:
Third Woman Press.
Dueas, Pablo and Jess Escalante Flores, editors. 1994. Teatro mexicano. Historia y dramaturgia. XX Teatro de revista (18941936). Mxico, D.F.: Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las
Artes.
Garca Canclini, Nstor. 1992. "Cultural Reconversion." Trans.
Holly Staver. In On Edge. The Crisis of Contemporary Latin
American Culture, eds. George Ydice, Jean Franco, and Juan
Flores. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Hutcheon, Linda. 1989. The Politics of Postmodernism. New York:
Routledge.