'L'Albada': identity and memory in the wake of 'Incendis'

The Dawn focuses on the search for origins through memory: a journey of discovery from the Spanish Civil War to the Barcelona Olympic Games that mirrors itself unashamedly in Wajdi Mouawad's great epic, Incendis (against the backdrop of the endless wars in Lebanon) which Oriol Broggi directed at the Romea theatre fourteen years ago and which, as a curiosity, was advertised with exactly the same duration of The Dawn by Jaume Viñas; three hours and forty minutes, which finally reach almost four hours.

Viñas is therefore inspired by Mouawad's work to bring us a reflection, always necessary, on the fratricidal conflict that is part of our history and that in another way has influenced, and surely still influences, so many generations. This is the case of Alba (very effective Clara Mir), the young protagonist raised in a convent orphanage and a history student who is determined to discover who her parents were. This journey will lead her towards a past that is not always easy to uncover and will overcome the great silence of Francoist collaborators of the post-war period, of the treacherous transition, and of the discomfort of a civil service reluctant to facilitate the investigation.

The proposal has the fragmentary structure of a puzzle inhabited by about forty characters that unfortunately is not very clarifying, and that is why Alba's final monologue tries to tie up the unknowns of the story, also claiming the need to preserve memory and which, furthermore, perfectly connects with the initial monologue of the history professor (magnificent Ramon Vila). I believe that part of the problem for better global understanding lies in adding to the protagonist's search that of a boy without parents (Jaume Viñas) and that of a girl (Patrícia Bargalló), also victims of the misdeeds of the postwar period.

Beyond the dramatic structure, Viñas's text is more descriptive than poetic – like the direction itself –, more didactic than emotional with some well-defined characters, such as the wicked Sister Hortènsia (brilliant Noël Olivé) or the executioner (a nod to Berlanga) Miquel (Ramon Vila) in a whole that is followed thanks to the good rhythm of the performance, but which lacks emotional impact; consequently, it rarely moves. And one last thing: why do the republicans and partisans speak mostly in Spanish? Is there a lot of Spanish in this story that takes place in Catalonia.