‘Soroche’ Brings High-Altitude Latin American Horror to SF’s Brava Theater

There’s a certain beauty in translating literature from other languages — a delicate art of re-interpretation that requires a fusing of author and translator to create a third voice. Even more intricate is when a translation undergoes another level of filtration as it’s adapted from the written word into a stage performance.

That’s exactly what happened when the notable Ecuadorian writer Mónica Ojeda’s short story “Soroche” was picked up for translation by San Francisco’s Two Lines Press, then morphed into a live stage adaptation by Cuentero Productions and the Center for the Art of Translation.

Initially translated from Spanish to English by Sarah Booker and Noelle de la Paz, the story — which details the dizzying erosion of social relationships during a group trip gone wrong in the Andes — was first included in a short story collection titled Through the Night Like a Snake: Latin American Horror Stories.

Rather than taking on the trope of an external monster, Ojeda explores the psychological horrors of flawed friendships and everyday hypocrisies that lurk beneath the surface of our relationships. Under pressure, these are the fissures that can disastrously combust. Fueled by the dissolution of a sex scandal, broken trust and an abusive partner — and told through the alternating perspectives of a group of women friends — the story exposes the horrors of inescapable humiliation and social isolation in the modern world.

The sonically and psychologically layered performance is slated for one-night only at San Francisco’s Brava Theater on Thursday, June 6 at 7 p.m. The play stars Catalina Plata Guevara, MJ García, Claudia Andrea Escobar and Laura Ubaté.

Camilo Garzón is spearheading the story’s stage adaptation — with a keen focus on cinematic sound design. Garzón appreciates the story’s setting as a rich backdrop for the characters’ emotional and mental fracturing, and fully aims to bring the characters’ psychological dimensions to life with a suggestive, indirect touch.

“The story is horrifying. We don’t want to retraumatize people [since] it gravitates around revenge porn and an abusive relationship,” Garzón, a former NPR radio producer, says. “Instead, we emphasize the mountains, the wind. How can you feel like you’re in the Andes? How does the heartbeat go faster? The audience is smart, and we can use the power of suggestion. It’s about being immersed in an insidious, under your skin way. The soundscapes can transport you there.”

As a Colombian who was born and raised in the Andes, Garzón is in many ways the ideal candidate to create a theatrical experience about Latin Americans navigating the high-altitude environment. He mentions the story’s namesake, soroche (an indigenous Quechuan term referring to altitude sickness), or “mal de montaña,” a kind of physical distress that can occur in your lungs when adjusting to the shortage of oxygen.

“How do you take the air out of a room?” Garzón contemplates. As another kind of effect, one of the story’s characters will not appear physically on stage, and will instead only operate as a voice through the theater’s speakers. “We want to make it ghostly,” he says. “When a voice is disembodied and talking about how disembodied they’ve felt, it feels even more intrusive and creates the horror of this story.”

In thinking through the many layers of translation and adaptation — including cultural, literary and physical — Garzón emphasizes the collaborative efforts required, particularly as a man working on a story about the experiences of women. He takes care to shout out Laura Ubaté and Catherine Girardeau, who helped create the sonic landscape and consulted on audio adaptation. Fellow Andean Colombians Daniel Murcia and composer María Linares worked on the project as sound designer and composer, respectively.

Despite the challenges of reworking the story for the stage, Garzón hopes that the heaviest themes in Ojeda’s writing — the everyday terrors that women experience — are conveyed.

“Altitude sickness in this story is a metaphor for condescension and looking down on someone, but condescension and sexism are part of all of our lives,” he says. “Patriarchy is part of our lives. These are the kind of horrors that happen often and aren’t in your face, and because of that they’re the most important to dismantle. It can just be one more unsaid thing in a larger cycle of abuse.”

‘Soroche’ takes place at Brava Theater (2781 24th St., San Francisco) on June 6, 2024 at 7 p.m. Medicine for Nightmares will host a book sale before and after the performance. A Q&A session with translators Sarah Booker and Noelle de la Paz, and Two Lines Press editor Sarah Coolidge, will take place after the show. Tickets are available here.