Curva España

informació obra

Grupo Chévere
Xron Chévere
Xron Chévere

Nova proposta de la companyia gallega Chévere (N.E.V.E.R.M.O.R.E.), un true crime escènic sobre un accident de fa gairebé 100 anys que és també una exploració autoirònica del teatre document i una al·legoria de la construcció de l'estat nació espanyol.

El 26 de maig de 1927, l'enginyer de camins José Fernández-España y Vigil va morir quan es va estimbar en cotxe per un barranc d’A Bouciña Redonda, al municipi de Rios (Ourense), mentre treballava en l'estudi del traçat de la variant Sud del ferrocarril Puebla de Sanabria-Ourense. La versió oficial diu que va ser un accident causat per la mala visibilitat nocturna i la poca habilitat del conductor. El cert és que, després, es va descartar l'opció Sud i la construcció de la línia del ferrocarril es va fer pel Massís Central d'Ourense, amb un cost enorme tant econòmic com de vides humanes. Per què es va triar la ruta més cara i més difícil de totes les línies espanyoles? Per què es va deixar sense connectar per sempre la part habitada, productiva i fronterera d'aquest territori?

Per respondre aquestes preguntes, la companyia Chévere adapta a l’escena el format documental sobre crims reals i presenta les versions de la història passades de pares a fills en un plató en directe. Una al·legoria de la construcció de l’estat nació espanyol, com si fos la promesa d'un tren que no va arribar mai.

Crítica: Curva España


Spanish sabotage with a Galician twist

per Alx Phillips

One of Spain’s very first road deaths took place on a hairpin bend in 1927 Ourense, a province of the northwestern region of Galicia. The deceased, one José Fernández España y Vigil, was a civil engineer employed to study the layout of the southern bypass of the railroad – a section of the line promptly abandoned after his death. 

España y Vigil’s car veered off the road on a foggy night on this particularly tight bend near the town of Verín. According to local sources, the car was accelerating rather than breaking on the curve, causing the vehicle to spin out of control and crash into a ravine. Before it did so, another man in the car – seemingly aware of what was about to happen – opened the door and leapt out to safety. He promptly disappeared from the story altogether.

What happened that night, its causes and its consequences, its facts and its fictions, is at the root of this gripping, informative and entertaining Galician production, featuring comic actors Patricia de Lorenzo and Miguel de Lira. Created by award-winning theatre company Chévere (N.E.V.E.R.M.O.R.E.) and written and directed by Vigo-born Xron, Curva España (punningly surtitled ‘the history of the bend that killed España (or Spain)’ is an allegory of the construction of the Spanish nation state, as if it were the promise of a train that never arrived. 

The show adopts the methology of true crime genre to present the case through multiple perspectives: local legend and official sources intertwine via documentary materials, visual reenactments, present-day interviews and pure theatre. An “unapologetic roadmovie”, as one critic observed, Curva España makes diversions into Spanish social structure – a stitch up, by all accounts – the so-called ‘caciquismo’, where a few powerful families club up to protect and further their interests at the expense of everyone else. There is a brief and fascinating history of the Spanish railway; its slow and gruelling and arbitrary progression, the stops it remembered and the towns, villages and swathes of now-abandoned Spain, it forgot. 

Curva España also reintroduces one of the heroes of the moment: Eloy Luis André, philosopher, psychologist and writer was born and bred in Verín and bent over backwards to try to get a train to stop there, quite logically connecting this agricultural town with Vigo, a thriving port city on the Atlantic coast, and with the rest of the nation. On 26 May 1927, the day of Spain’s untimely death, André’s hopes ended. Today, the nearest train station is at La Gudiña, some 31km to the east of Verín. Many of the town's residents have had to move away. What remains is the conviction, firm in the local imagination, of a grave injustice that nearly a century after the death of España, lives on.