According to José Antonio Méndez’s famous bolero glory awaits mortals in heaven, but for those of us lucky enough to be alive and kicking, La Gloria can be found at Teatro SEA in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Subtitled as “a Latin cabaret”, this two-hour-long extravaganza pays tribute to one of Cuba’s biggest exports, Afro-Cuban band the Sonora Matancera, and three of its biggest featured singers, Daniel Santos, Myrta Silva and Celia Cruz. The three titans of Latin music reunite in a heaven imagined by playwright Norge Espinosa Mendoza as a dance club where God is the feared boss, a sassy archangel (played by director Manuel Antonio Morán) serves as emcee, and the former members of the Sonora try to extend their lives by keeping the music going.
Combining stream of consciousness storytelling with variety show elements, La Gloria consists of musical vignettes in which puppet versions of Santos, Silva and Cruz engage in hilarious banter culminating in songs performed by their human surrogates (Mario Mattei, Jeannie Sol, Lina Sarrello) all of whom are talented and charming enough that the puppets sometimes feel unnecessary. No offense to designer Zenén Calero, whose detailed marionettes not only recall their real life counterparts, but who by default add a level of afro-mysticism to a show that’s already dealing with mortality and what awaits us on the other side.
Classic mambo, chachachá, and guaguancó numbers courtesy of the singers and the incomparable band led by Alejandro Zuleta, fill the space with endless joy which allows one to get lost in dance and escape the show’s darker moments including the profound nostalgia expressed by Cruz who sings about the Havana she left behind and was denied reentry to. One of the prominent themes of the show is wondering if we ever leave “home” behind, and the importance of music in making us feel like we’re nursing on our mother’s breast once more.
There is an urgency to Daniel Fetecua’s sensuous choreography that reminds us life should be lived with intensity, each step filled with purpose and excitement. But perhaps one of the most important elements of attending La Gloria is having the chance to sit next to other audience members, complete strangers who you feel slowly moving next to you, first you can hear their feet tap the floor, then you feel the warmth exuding from their bodies, then their shoulders brush against yours and before soon you’re dying to extend them a hand and invite them to join you on the dancefloor. It’s no spoiler to say that after the encore, the audience is invited to join the company onstage for a delicious guaracha. As it pays tribute to hugely influential figures of Latin music, La Gloria never loses track of how music connects us all, and whether we can’t sing, or have two left feet, music pulses through our veins making us feel like we’re one, if only for the duration of a song.
