The village of San Isidro has been without its doctor for eighteen months. Moisés has remained a recluse, refusing to even look at a patient, since the day the army took his wife away during the country’s civil war. When a mysterious plague begins to ravage the countryside around San Isidro, the local parish priest convinces Moisés to take action. When Moisés examines his first patient, he discovers he has the miraculous power to heal this plague with the touch of his hand. But among the thousands of pilgrims who flock to San Isidro, Moisés is forced to confront his past, and the violence that tore San Isidro apart. A meditation on mourning, redemption, and revenge, Seven Spots On The Sun follows each character’s attempt to come to terms with the extraordinary loss they have suffered and the miracles they have witnessed.

In Seven Spots on the Sun, playwright Martín Zimmerman shows he has no time for subtlety; he names his prophet-like hero after the biblical figure who led the Exodus, has the sun communicate a damning message to the humans below, uses plague to capture the notion of collective trauma, and refuses to give his Latin American location the gift of specificity because it could very well represent anywhere from Venezuela to Argentina. Yes, Zimmerman has no regard for subtlety but judging from the emotional punch that is his play, and how it ponders on the cruelty of military regimes and social injustice in Latin America, the question should be why would he try to sugar it down through nuance? When the play begins we meet Moisés (Rey Lucas) a village doctor who has secluded himself and chosen to stop treating patients after his wife Belén was abducted and murdered by the military. But as fate would have it, Moisés is the only person capable of healing a mysterious ailment killing children and babies. People from all over the country come in pilgrimage to beg the good doctor to heal them, but as Moisés grapples with this strange gift he wonders if he has a moral duty to help the people who …Read more