Federico García Lorca’s Spanish Women Link 30s Fascism to US

by Jenyth Jo

After watching Stephen Colbert’s last show, I needed a good, old-fashioned Greek catharsis. CBS cancelled Colbert’s Late Show to gain our tyrant’s approval of their vast corporate merger. They gave ideological control of the network to our current crazed “leader,” echoing past fascist takeovers.

In the 1930s, General Francisco Franco’s right-wing, humorless government assassinated progressive, gay Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca because Franco hated Lorca’s politics.  Lorca was murdered two months after completing “The House of Bernarda Alba.” Like Colbert, Lorca was “cancelled.”

Director Michael Socrates Moran and actor Lisa Ramirez push the limits of Lorca’s protest play, transforming Oakland’s Omni Commons into a prison for women. Women are trapped in a glass cage, in the domestic sphere, reflecting Franco’s fascist ideology.

In the glass “house,” a white cross-shaped stage sits atop compost-smelling soil. A lighted cross looms above. Step out of line, and you are face down in the dirt. As Bernarda, Ramirez intensely embodies a harsh matriarch, whom her five daughters must obey.

Bernarda resembles Maleficent in mourning, pounding her black, gold-encrusted staff, terrorizing the household. Bernarda scowls at her family, while claiming that her daughters love her.

In Chay Yew’s adaptation, absolutist Bernarda remains blind to truth as King Lear. After her husband dies, Bernarda decrees that her daughters cannot leave the house for eight years. Lorca shows their pent-up emotions exploding into fierce rages. When her imprisoned daughters lust after Pepe (elegant dancer Jaden Ramsey), Bernarda refuses to acknowledge their desires.

Never have I hated a character so much. “I don’t think. I give orders,” she declares, as the audience groans and catcalls. Any daughter who disobeys “becomes an enemy” and we feel that’s the better choice.

In vivid contrast to Bernarda, youngest daughter Adela (haunting Antonella Scogna) flaunts red and white gowns instead of mourning black. She dances flamenco with a rose in her hand, displaying passion and single-mindedness.

While Bernarda remains cold as her dead husband, Adela is hot for Pepe. When her sister Augustias (Sarah Jiang) becomes engaged, their rivalry breaks out of the glass house. But Bernarda continually shuts them down, like Franco in the Spanish Civil War.

Their heart-wrenching screams against oppression are unbearable. Bernarda mimics absolute authority, confining women to the home.

Director Moran infuses the story with moments of comic relief. Grandmother Maria Josefa (sonorous Angelina Fiordellisi) escapes her locked room and wanders among us rebelliously. She wears a wedding dress and proclaims her delusions.

Insanity looms as Martirio (edgy Èssa Vilanue) cringes under accusations. Is madness the only escape for these women?

In a breakout scene, we finally get to the heart. Dancers who have been glued to chairs come alive in full glory. Hozier’s ironic lyrics from “Take Me to Church” highlight love and lust. We want more of that energy.

But catastrophe arrives in a surprising climax. Like Lorca, himself, one innocent victim is sacrificed for another to hold onto power.

Lorca’s tragic farewell work shows how widening class divisions erode fairness, justice, and freedom. His warning against absolute power remains chilling today.

“The House of Bernarda Alba” by Federico García Lorca, adapted by Chay Yew, directed by Michael Socrates Moran, lighting by Ashley Munday, set by Sam Fehr, costumes by Isadora Duskin Feinberg, and music by Bekka Fink, by Oakland Theater Project, at Omni Commons, 4799 Shattuck Avenue, Oakland 94609.

Info:  oaklandtheaterproject.org – to June 7, 2026.

Cast:  Lisa Ramirez, Angelina Fiordellisi, Natalie Pasquinelli, Èssa Vilanue, Antonella Scogna, Jacinta Kaumbulu, Bekka Fina, Shabnam Ayuby, Sarah Jiang, Sarah Kasuga, and Jaden Ramsey.

Banner photo: Lisa Ramirez and Jacinta Kaumbulu. Photos: Ben Krantz Studio