Abaixo a crítica de Matthew Hawkins, publicada no Brodway Baby (http://www.broadwaybaby.com).
Eduardo Okamoto has played this piece for seven years now and it has become part of his identity. Even so, his portrayal of Pedrinha, a vulnerable Brazilian street kid, remains volatile. Charged spontaneity is maintained here by Okomato’s access to cardinal dance disciplines, in a global sense. To see how he coils his spine in intensely low squats then rises up as if impelled and how he shape-shifts his bared abdomen and ribcage in an intoxication of unbound expression (extending to plangent vocals) is to know full-blown physical immersion.
Witnessing Now and at the Time of Our Turn requires punters sit around darkened edges and ponder two intersecting strips of light (oops, a cross!) within which Okamato’s Pedrinha waits entrapped. Then, flailing backwards and forwards, spilling his soul, neurotically all akimbo but finding sudden animal reflexes of terrified stillness, he has us learn (and retain) how his persona has become deranged by a mindless trauma he has witnessed. Stellar actors and dramatists all find ways to do this but here it is rendered searingly individual. Before his skull becomes the resonant instrument of self harm, we repeatedly notice the articulate detail of how this head, neck and throat (bearing crucifix and precious earring) suspend an eloquent mechanism for primal outlet, right up from the gut, up and over the muscular tongue. This visionary sensuality delights to the degree that we can’t fail to know the nugget of marvel deeply embedded in kids gone feral. Hence, the narration of their brutal destiny flays us but also inspires.
This artist and his director, Veronica Fabrini, have examined a troubled terrain and mastered the means (including a basic but telling Anglo/Portuguese script) to take us there and to haul us back emotionally dishevelled. Dazed, I felt my way out of the premises, oddly cherishing the hope that, taking his cue from Pedrinha’s final wishes, Edoardo Okamoto might someday free himself from the crucifying burden of this piece. His future playing, choreography or dancing would be astonishing I’m sure, but meanwhile he is phenomenally present this way.
Crítica por Matthew Hawkins