i H f m i l m ü l f C O M Wm W m 0 *>:• -. ▼ ' All about Alcalá Andrés Alcalá is making his mark on the Portland theater scene, several characters at a time by F l o r a S ussely W ith A C o n s c ie n c e Complete automotive service of Japanese and American cars and light trucks. ¿ o ¿ - o o io ASE Certified Mechanics Certified DEQ Repair Facility A ndrés Alcala is a small-town hoy turned Shakespearean actor. So, w hat’s he doing in Portland? Q uite a lot, actually. W hen I caught up with him, he was rehearsing an assortment characters for Men on the Verge of a His-panic Breakdown. He and playwright Guillermo Reyes were locked in a long day of blocking out the eight gay Hispanic characters that Alcala will bring to life at the Miracle Theatre. To those of you who attend Portland th e­ ater regularly, Andrés Alcala is the savagely handsome Ramon in Artists Repertory T h e ­ atre’s production of Terrence McNally’s Love! Valour! Compassion; he is the cruel, villainous Duke Fedrik and the sweet empathetic Signor of Tygres Heart’s production of Shakespeare’s As You Like It. He is also the alluring and mys­ terious Latina diva of Reyes’ Deporting the Divas at Miracle Theatre; and the fragile, angry AIDS patient in A R Ts production of David Rabe’s A Question of Mercy. In short, he is one of Portland’s most sought after and versatile actors. So, what’s his story? Always the clown, the family ham, he loved to make his parents laugh. Later, teaching spe­ cial-education and Down syndrome kids, he used his acting talent to role-play. “I’d show them what they were doing by doing exactly what they were doing. T hen they’d say, ‘T h at’s not what I’m like,’ and they would change their behavior. It was a way of communicating with them.” W hat happened next was the catalyst for wonderful things, hut at the time it was very painful: “In my senior year in high school, I came out. My parents were not supportive and I got my GED, became an emancipated minor and left Crescent City. I left behind the lead in Grease, the kids I’d been teaching, everything.’’ Somewhere along the line, Alcalá realized that running was not what he wanted and, in a very courageous move, he returned to the town and the family that had scorned him. W hat he found was surprising. Everyone had been pray­ ing that he would return. His father installed a little trailer in the backyard, complete with everything— including cable—and a sign that read: “Your Home a Bit Away from Home.” As Alcalá conquered his demons, new ones replaced the old ones. An adult lover was arrested because Alcalá was still a minor, and a platonic friendship with an exchange student was investigated as a sexual transgression. “By the time I got to college, I had already suffered a lot of the indignities of / I homophobia,” Alcalá says evenly. And indeed, he had managed to assert his personhtxxi before an entire community that had alternately banned him, investigated him and recognized his gifts. In college, thoughts of teaching special-edu­ cation kids gave way to love of theater. After getting his degree, Alcalá went on to two sea­ sons at the Ashland Shakespeare Festival. So, what happened then? He fell in love. After a year of letters and visits, Alcalá says, he followed his heart. Now, settled in Portland, steadily burning through the local theater scene, he sits hack to reflect on my questions, which he pnxdaims “diffi­ cult." Alcalá is disarmingly shy. All at once he will smile a sideways smile, shrug and say, “Well, you know, I’m from a small town.” He was raised speaking only Spanish at home and his vowels have a Latin ring. He is very pale with very black wavy hair and lips like Disney’s Snow W hite. In short, he is Dracula and Zorro, drama personified. The interesting juxtaposition is that he is not at all dramatic or commanding in personal presence. He slouches, whispers, and, as we hunched over proof sheets of his photos he complains: “1 don’t like that picture— I kxik fat.” He is not. As rehearsals continue, he becomes an old gay Cuban restaurateur, a wickedly sarcastic English professor, a young gay Mexican boy in love, and others. Generations, regions and situ­ ations swirl in the empty house. Slowly, Reyes directs Alcalá this way and that. It is not often an actor has the opportunity to work with the playwright, and Alcalá is obviously in awe. They have been here for hours. I am struck with how hard they are working to bring us these Hispanic men. In Reyes’ play we learn the history of otherwise invisible members of our community— from the Cuban “gay concentration camps” of Castro, to some­ one suffering alone with AIDS. The human voice. And, in the capable hands of Alcalá, it is sure to speak to us all. A rtists repertorytheatre Updated Misanthrope shakes, shocks, Bob Hicks - The Oregonian ' % vV> « ' í • '•/ iff $ 0 * . t i A ,. ■ & ' A World Premiere! hfM 15 A N T H Rp p e by M oliere translated & adapted by L auren G oldman M arshall based on a concept by A lan C raig D i B ona directed by D ennis B igelow original music by D an R eed M AY 18 - JUNE 27 For tickets call: 241-1 ART ■ M e n o n t h e V e r g e t v a H is - r A N i c B r e a k - shows at 8p. m. Fridays and Saturdays, June 4-26, at the Miracle Theatre, 525 S.E. Stark St. in Portland. Ticket pnces range from $I2~$I5. For reservations, call (503) 236-7253. ^ ‘ g w *. tow n Ploy Sponsor: Season Sponsor: This play contains nudity and strong language. T e k tro n ix /