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JOAN BAEZ: UNDER THE BOMBS - BAJO EL BOMBARDEO, Hanoi, December - Diciembre 1972





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BAJO EL BOMBARDEO



La famosa cantante folklórica y pacifista Joan Báez dio una charla en la Iglesia Memorial de Stanford  de Palo Alto (California, Estados Unidos) el 12 de enero de 1973, hablando de su estadía de dos semanas en Hanoi. Viajó en compañía del Brigadier General retirado Telford Taylor, el Rev. Michael Allen y Barry Romo de VVAW con el propósito de entregar más de 600 cartas dirigidas a prisioneros de guerra estadounidenses. La comitiva llegó a Vietnam del Norte el 17 de diciembre. El viaje, que fue auspiciado por el Comité de Enlace, fue interrumpido el segundo día a raíz del bombardeo más intenso que se había registrado en toda la guerra.

Aquí transcribimos parte de la charla dada en Stanford; la cinta magnetofónica original y el registro de las preguntas y respuestas que siguieron luego pueden pedirse al Institute.




BAJO EL BOMBARDEO
Hanoi, diciembre de 1972



Esta última Navidad me hicieron un regalo. Fue el regalo más bello que recibí alguna vez en mi vida, con la excepción de mi hijo. El regalo consistió en la posibilidad de compartir con el pueblo vietnamita una pequeña parte de las agonías que les venimos proporcionando durante los últimos ocho años.

Durante los once días de bombardeo navideño pude gozar del efecto del 60% de nuestros impuestos, que se canalizan hacia un eufemismo conocido con el  nombre de “Defense Departmen” (Ministerio de Defensa). Pude obtener una nueva perspectiva sobre el significado de aquel nombre.

Durante los once días que experimenté la vida en Hanoi, las cosas que sentí y vi, pensé y olí me resultaron atroces, aterrorizantes y me partían el alma; me resultaron imposibles de asimilar entonces, y aún hoy sigo sin poder asimilarlas la mayor parte del día y la mayor parte de mis horas de sueño.

Este regalo me ha hecho testigo de esta guerra, y desde ese lugar quiero contarles algunas de las cosas que vi y sentí.

Cuando llegamos a Hanoi se nos llevó  a cada uno por separado, a fin de que pudiéramos obtener la mayor información posible. Mantuve una conversación muy interesante con un hombre llamado Quat, el líder del grupo. Le dije que yo era pacifista y que de ninguna manera había viajado a su país a decirle lo que tenía que hacer; por el contrario, había viajado para averiguar, desde su punto de vista, lo que nosotros, los estadounidenses, debíamos hacer mejor. Quat se mostró muy respetuoso durante toda mi estadía en Hanoi en relación a mis opiniones e ideas; nunca me llevó a mí, ni al grupo, a ver un bombardero B-52 derribado para no correr el riesgo de herir nuestro orgullo.

La segunda noche en Hanoi estábamos en una habitación del hotel, mirando una película sobre gases tóxicos, de los que el Defense Department estadounidense afirma que no son tóxicos. Veíamos cómo unos monos echaban espuma por la boca y morían al cabo de doce segundos, y cómo pasaba lo mismo con gatos, cuando de repente escuchamos un ruido. Fue un sonido que me transportó de vuelta al cuarto grado de la escuela primaria, un sonido que ordenaba: “Métete debajo del escrito”. Sin embargo, esta vez no
había escritorio, y no estaba en cuarto grado: era real. (NdT: Se refiere a la sirena que avisa del bombardeo aéreo. Cuando ella asistía a la escuela primaria aprendió, junto con sus compañeras y compañeros, a saltar y esconderse debajo del escritorio de la sala al sonar la alarma.

Según su costumbre, los vietnamitas nos dijeron: “Ay, disculpen, es un ataque”. 

Dije: “¿Disculpar A QUIEN por el ataque?”


©1973 Joan Baez
Under the bombs - Bajo el bombardeo (fragmento)

Publicado por el  Institute for the Study of Non-Violence - Instituto para el 
Estudio de la No-Violencia
California, Estados Unidos, 1973


























VIOLENT! by ANA TERESA SOSA LLANO





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VIOLENT! 





ANA TERESA SOSA LLANO


Education

1976-1980

Professor of History and Geography, Caracas Pedagogic Institute, Venezuela

1978-1982 

Film and TV Directing,  New School for Social Research, New York City, USA

Theater works

 1988   “Dirigido a Eva” (For Eva)

1989   “Corazón de Fuego” (Heart of fire) Published by Fundarte

1993   “Torres de Silencio”. Movie script. Feature film. Received the Premio de Alcaldía (Caracas Mayor’s Award

1994   “With the demons inside”. Winner of the Premio Santiago Magariños of the Ministry of culture. CONAC Nacional award. Published by Monte Avila Editores and by CELVIT

1996   “Maldita de Todos” (She is cursed by all). Honored in the Mexican magazine Publicación Concurso de la Revista Tramoya Published by Monte Ávila Editores and by CELCIT

          “Dolor de Madre” (A mother’s pain). Performed in Maracay, Venezuela

1997   “Gritos, Crímenes Y Sortilegios”. (“Screams, crimes and  witchcraft”). In 2000 winner of the award from the Círculo de Escritores de Venezuela José Ignacio Cabrujas. Published in February 2002

1998   Introduction to the catalogue for US artists Nancy Spero and Leon Golub at the Museo Jacobo Borges in Caracas, Venezuela.

1999   “Violento” (Violent) Translated by Arturo Pérez Staged in the Sala Rajatabla.  Septiembre del Año 2006.

2003   “Casa en Orden” (House in order) - A tragicomedy published in the Mexican magazine Tramoya in 2003. Staged in at the Theater Sambil in Caracas, Venezuela in 2010 and again in Theater Escena 8. One thousand people attended its staging in Panamá in 2016.

2013   “La Malquerida” (She the unloved). In 2014 staged at the Microteatro in Caracas, Venezuela

2015   ”Madre” (Mother). Staged at the Microteatro in Miami

2018   “Todos a la Jefatura” (All go to the police station)

2022   “Las Hay Malas y … YO” (“There are bad women and …I)

2023   “Quién Cuida Mamá?” (Who takes care of mom?) Long format tragicomedy

“Patria Herida” (Wounded homeland)

 

AWARDS

 

1994   The Municipal Award of the City of Caracas for fiction movie script

1998   The National Drama Award y the Ministry of Culture CONAC for “Con Los Demonios Adentro”

2000   The José Ignacio Cabrujas award of the Writer’s Group of Venezuela for “Gritos, Crímenes Y Sortilegios”.

2001   Award from Tramoya magazine of the Universidad de Veracruz, México. Publication of “She who is cursed by all” and “House in Order”

 


CLASSES AND WORKSHOPS

 

1984-1985    Theater given by Oswaldo Dragún

Theater Level I and Level II given by Juan Carlos Genet one year course at the CELCIT

1985-1986    Script writing given by Mauricio Wallerstein

                    Script writing given by Laura Antillano

1987            Script writing for film given by José Alcalde

1988            Directing theater workshop given by Javier Vidal

2002            Theater writing workshop with Argentine writer Mauricio Kartum

2013            Greek theater workshop with Armando Rojas Guardia for one year

 

 

 

WORKSHOPS AND AWARDS

 

1993, 1994,1995              

Instructor for the Taller de Dramaturgia y Escritura de Guiones (Writing film scripts) at the Academy of film and television of Radio Caracas

Workshop on the dramatic interpretation of the soap opera for Radio Caracas international sales supervisors and editors

2012- 2024

Juror for the national theater award given by CONAC from

Teacher of making theater pieces and movie scripts at the Universidad Central de Venezuela for 3 years

2009

Juror for the national literature in Panamá 

2014

Publication of the novel “Casa de Varones” (Male’s House)


A door open to the sea, play by Viviana Marcela Iriart, August 2021

 



The stage is barely lit. “Porque vas a venir” (Because you’re coming), a song by Carmen Guzmán and Mandy, sung by Susana Rinaldi, is played until the characters speak. 

Dunia enters from the right side. She is excited and nervous. She sits down, stands up, walks from side to side. She is thrilled. She can barely hold her laughter. 

Sandra appears on the left side. She is nervous and excited, but she moves slowly, in a controlled way. She stops at the large window, which is softly lit with a warm glow. She looks inside but sees no one: Dunia has left the stage at that point. She moves towards the proscenium. Dunia enters and does not see her. She goes to the proscenium. 

Until indicated, Sandra and Dunia behave as if they were in a dream. They never touch or look at each other. When they speak, it seems like they are talking to themselves. 


SUSANA RINALDI

“Because you’re coming my old house

unveils new flowers throughout the railing.

Because you're arriving, after so long,

I cannot tell if I'm crying or laughing.

 

I know you're coming, though you didn't say it,

but you'll arrive one morning.

There's a song in my voice, I'm not so sad,

and a ray of sunlight is coming through my window.

 

Because you're arriving, after a long journey,

there's a different hue, a different landscape.

Everything shines a different light and has changed its way,

because you're arriving after all.

 

Because you’re coming, from so far away,

I've looked at myself in the mirror once again.

And how will they see me, I asked myself,

the eyes of this day I was waiting for.

 

Because you're arriving I wait for you,

because you love me and I love you.

Because you're arriving I wait for you,

because you want it

and I want it too.”




SANDRA (As if she were alone, without noticing Dunia)
And then I thought, will she have changed much? Have I changed so much?

DUNIA (With the same attitude as Sandra)
I was waiting impatiently. I looked at myself in the mirrors and wondered what look you’d give to these wrinkles that have surrounded my eyes without yours. Would you recognize me with these gray hairs I didn't tell you about?

SANDRA
The street in front of your house seemed to be the same. The orange tree in the corner where the greengrocer's was, the paving stones at Don Giuseppe’s store - still broken -, the magnolia tree that would never bloom. But above all, the smell of the orange tree announcing your house was nearby. It all looked the same.

DUNIA

Your voice on the phone, cheerful and teasing, here and not there once again, the same old voice, and I swear I could have eaten up the receiver to eat your voice so that you’d never be gone again.

SANDRA (She turns her back on her)

I admit it - I was scared. The doorbell was there, tiny and glossy. It looks like a nipple, I thought, a nipple inviting the erotic—but no, this little nipple-doorbell was inviting me to the past and I was saying: should I touch it, should I not? I would stretch a finger and stroke it slowly, without pressing, in case I could excite it and make it ring. My finger was bringing you back to my memory.


DUNIA (She turns her back on her)
I looked at you through the peephole, which of us did I see? Years flashed by in the glass eye and did not let me see you.

SANDRA (She comes forward slowly with her back to Dunia)
My finger was still on the doorbell. A door was coughing weakly and I listened to it. The little moaning nipple would not need to be touched. I crossed the doorstep and rested my chest, my whole body, on the door.

DUNIA (She comes forward slowly with her back to Sandra)
I saw you and I pressed my body on the exact same place as you had placed yours. A door divided us and bound us. I was drowning and I thought: there’s no shore near here or any lifeguard in this place.

SANDRA
Your breathing in my ear was suffocating me, it didn't let me think. I was going crazy, I was fainting.

DUNIA
The air from your mouth made me warm, and I was getting filled with sweet old memories. The air from your mouth was burning me, immolating me.

SANDRA (Stands very close to Dunia’s back, without touching it)
Your fingers scratching the wood, scratching and moaning like a stray cat about to give birth to dead memories.

DUNIA
I felt you were sliding down the door to the floor and I reached out to stop you from hitting it.

SANDRA
Your back was sticking into mine, piercing me. I felt pain, I felt pleasure.

DUNIA

You were crying—and you never cried—in a way that was new to me.


SANDRA
You were crying and in your tears was the same old pain I always remembered.

DUNIA
I heard you say: you’re back at last.

SANDRA
And I heard you answer: at last I’ve returned.

(...)

Fragment



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INTERVIEWS by viviana marcela iriart








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JULIO CORTÁZAR: "One day in my life is always a beautiful thing, because I am very happy to be alive"




JULIO EMILIO MOLINÉ, co-director of the documentary Joan ​Baez in Latin America (1981) :  

'Joan Baez received death threats, and was banned, persecuted...' 


 

 

ELISA LERNER: “Solitude is the writer's homeland”

 

 

SUSY DEMBO, experimentation without limits: “it's alchemical, it’s magical”

 

 

NAVA SEMEL, interview beneath the missiles: ​And the Rat ​ Laughed with Jane Fonda

 

 

BEATRIZ IRIART: An Ostracized Poet

 

 

DINAPIERA DI DONATO: Venezuelan poet in New York

 

 

MARIANA RONDÓN: "During my childhood, I thought cinema was only one movie: Yellow Submarine"

 

 






Cover Photo: JULIO CORTÁZAR & Viviana Marcela Iriart by EDUARDO GAMONDÉS, Caracas 1979