LOS ANGELES — Theater is an ancient art, but let no one tell you there’s nothing new to it. On Oct. 24, opening night of the Latino Theater Company’s festival of 19 Latiné theater companies from around the U.S. and Puerto Rico, called “Encuentro 2024: We Are Here: Presente!” we experienced a full-length, almost two-hour-long, intermissionless drama performed in complete darkness.
The New York City-based group Pitchblack Immersive brought their production of Odd Man Out to the West Coast, and we who were fortunate and brave enough to subject ourselves to the experience heard—and even smelled, tasted and felt—the presumably fictional story of Alberto Rinaldi, an Argentinian born-blind jazz musician on a Pitchblack Airlines plane traveling, after decades of self-exile, back to his homeland from New York, where he had established a successful career that culminated in a Madison Square Garden engagement.
Original as this conceit may sound, I had to keep reminding myself that when I would attend the theatre (or be anywhere) with my late husband Ruben, who was completely blind, that was his “immersive” experience 24/7! I recall more than once whispering to him what I was seeing on the stage, and asking him (before I acquired my hearing aids) what the actor just said. I came to understand the truth of the old folk wisdom that when a person loses one sense, the other senses compensate and become more finely attuned.
Odd Man Out is by Martín Bondone, and directed by himself with Carlos Armesto and Facundo Bogarín. Pitchblack Immersive Experiences is a U.S. endeavor born in 2022 of a partnership between theatreC of NYC and Teatro Ciego [Blind Theater] of Argentina, a company with a 15-year history of creating live experiences in complete darkness. As I sat in my seat “on the plane” with about 80 other theatergoers, I also recalled the experience of going to a restaurant here in L.A. some years back that showcased the talents of its blind staff and waiters, who prepared and served the entire meal in total darkness.
Not to say that the “crew” and passengers aboard Flight PBCL2024 at the Los Angeles Theatre Center were blind themselves, (though the company’s states that “we employ artists and technicians with visual disabilities in all our work. Part of our staff and creative team is made up of blind and low-vision individuals.” There is a similar company in Los Angeles, that we have reviewed several times (The Climb, Romeo Rocks the 80s, The Braille Legacy), but it does not immerse the audience itself in darkness. In any case, Odd Man Out does capture the sensations of a blind person negotiating his way through life from childhood to the present, not ever having known what the world “looks” like. Although, as Ruben continually taught me, there are many ways to see, and he himself was an accomplished artist (though to be accurate, he was not always blind, only having lost his sight partially in his 40s, then completely by his 50s, but I hadn’t known him then).
From his early youth, Alberto had to assert his will to learn and grow and be part of the world in a family and community that had to adjust their notions of “protecting” him from danger. Surely those dangers existed but, like any person, Alberto would have to test his fears and other people’s prejudices against his own abilities and limits, and figure out what risks were worth taking. “When you’re young,” Alberto reflects, “you don’t really know you’re different until you leave the house.” “You only fear the unknown” becomes his watchword. He learns to define himself not by what he cannot do, but by what he can.
Introduced to the guitar at a young age, his first great challenge was, as a young man in the 1960s, to accept a musical scholarship in New York. He learned to read music in braille, and was able to carry on a long-distance love affair with his old girlfriend Clara, who eventually joins him in New York, where he is proud to escort her around to see the sights. Given his druthers, he would have preferred her to remain with him, but as an activist she is drawn back to Argentina to share her fate with her comrades in struggle against the fascist military regime.
Which reminds me of a conversation Ruben once relayed to me. One time, at the Braille Institute in L.A., where he took classes in art and other subjects, a fellow blind student asked him confidentially if he was gay and if he had sex. Yes, and yes, he answered. “But how do you do it?” his friend asked. “Well,” Ruben replied, frankly astounded at this guy’s naïveté, “I know where everything is, and if I don’t, I find out!”
So, yes, Alberto and Clara were sexually active: his blindness was no obstacle for her. They shared a deep love.
The play is not just about the flight itself, with its characteristic pings and chimes, blasts of cool air and airplane noises—even rain in one particularly wet outdoor memory. It took a few times to get it, but each time the two-toned “announcement” signal sounded, we realized we are now going back into Alberto’s mind recalling incidents and people from his past, so that by the time we “land” we have assembled a good picture of who he was, who he became, and now what is so compelling for his hero’s-welcome return home after all these years. Hint: it has something to do with the fearless mothers of the Plaza de Mayo who for decades defied the authorities, demanding to know what became of their politically engaged “disappeared” children.
The producers issue a “Content Warning” that goes beyond the standard smoke, sounds of gunfire and violence, to the sounds of people being waterboarded. Of course, they emphasize the complete darkness, too, which for a lot of people could be unsettling—I found myself almost unable to close my eyes, even though there was absolutely nothing to see. To effect that total darkness, all devices such as phones, smart watches and other accessories are not be permitted; they are secured in individual pouches to be opened at the end of the performance. Even being “deprived” of having your phone available feels a little uncomfortable.
The seven-person cast who enact all the voices and sound effects includes Agustina Cedraschi, Andrés Montejo, D Henry Hanson, Giorgia Valenti, Lorenza Bernasconi, Mauricio Marte, and Pablo Drutman. If I’m to be honest, I did find the broad range of characters in Alberto’s life somewhat confusing, with their varied voices and accents, and especially without any of the visual cues we are accustomed to. Some incidents and people, lacking a reference point, I couldn’t follow—no doubt an indication of how reliant on sight most of us are, as we ignore other cues that a blind person would more likely notice. But after a while, the story settles in, even if told out of sequential order, so that by the end we have a pretty complete picture, though I do wonder if Odd Man Out is the best title they could have come up with—it doesn’t say much to me.
In other credits, the lead producer is Carlos Armesto, the line producer is Giorgia Valenti, production manager and sound designer is Nicolas Alvarez, production stage manager and associate production manager is D Henry Hanson, and music is by Mirko Mesca.
Pitchblack Immersive Experiences, dedicated to creating immersive sensorial experiences in complete darkness, creates new adventures “to be enjoyed beyond the limits of sight” that “will awaken your imagination and challenge your reality through your other senses, activating every inch of your body. Darkness allows us to perceive the world in a new way, and we extend that perception into how we create.… Our vision is to be recognized as an example of artistic innovation and social inclusion, developing new forms of art that promote awareness.”
Odd Man Out, the company’s first production, has already been presented as an at-home Box Experience; a semi-live (no actors) version; a live production at Bristol Riverside Theatre; at the Here Arts Center in New York during the Under the Radar Festival 2024, and Off-Broadway in summer 2024. They also have educational programs for schools, and a new Christmas musical in the works for 2025.
Remaining performances are (in English) Fri., Nov. 1, and Sat., Nov. 9 at 8:00 p.m., and Sun., Nov. 10 at 6:00 p.m., and (in Spanish) Sun., Nov. 3 at 4:00 p.m. For more information, and to purchase tickets, see here. The Los Angeles Theatre Center is located at 514 S. Spring St., Los Angeles 90013.
Worth seeing!
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