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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