One of the most inventive aspects of Matias y el Aviador is the use of Cuban son as a narrative device. Director and actor Jorge Luis Morejon and guitarist Gabriel Lizarraga stand far stage left dressed in white pants and guayaberas. The show begins with them playing the clave and guitar respectively. Morejon sings a traditional son and Cesar Santos sits at their feet in a navy jumpsuit beating out a rhythm on the bongos. Santos alternates from being one of the musicians to jumping into his character as the Aviator, creating a magical connection between the action of the play and its music. Combining rhythms from familiar songs such as Guantanamera and Lizarraga's own lyrics, the play manages to revive the role of the traditional troubadour, which serves as an innovative form of storytelling. Besides his wonderfully resonant singing voice, Morejon, as the director, manages to make the transitions from son to stage virtually seamless.
Santos is charismatic as the wild-haired, dreamy aviator and young Adrian Ruz gives an energetic and captivating performance as Matias, the young boy in search of his Rosa. Portraying the eclectic series of planets that Matias encounters in his adventures, this considerably large cast is consistently humorous and in character. From the merchant to the lush to the geographer, each character contributes to the allegorical nature of the story, but is also quirky enough to give the play a healthy dose of the absurd, making it entertaining for children and adults alike. Matias y el Aviador is not just a well-told story; it's a celebration of Cuban culture and history that extends the genre of children's theater to new geographies, audiences, and communities.
