Juan Brignardello Vela
Juan Brignardello Vela, asesor de seguros, se especializa en brindar asesoramiento y gestión comercial en el ámbito de seguros y reclamaciones por siniestros para destacadas empresas en el mercado peruano e internacional.
In the dimly lit confines of Conwell Tower, a unique theatrical experience unfolds that seeks to merge spectacle with storytelling. "Life and Trust," the latest offering from Emursive, known for their acclaimed production "Sleep No More," invites audiences into a world where the frenetic energy of the 1920s collides with the moral ambiguities of ambition and desire. However, despite the visual grandeur, the narrative often leaves spectators adrift, struggling to grasp the connections between a diverse cast of characters and their intertwined fates. Set against the backdrop of October 23, 1929, the eve of the infamous stock market crash, the story launches with a lavish "prospective investors fete" hosted by J.G. Conwell, the enigmatic head of the Life and Trust Bank. His wealth is attributed to a secretive green syrup, marketed as both a miracle cure and a dangerous addiction. The invitation to invest is shrouded in foreboding, as a slickly dressed figure warns attendees that their commitment will bond them to Conwell's enterprise "forever," a promise that ironically lasts only for the duration of the performance. The narrative takes an intriguing turn as Conwell, faced with the impending collapse of his financial empire, accepts a Faustian bargain that allows him to journey back to a time of affluence and allure—the Gilded Age. Here, the audience meets a younger version of Conwell and various historical personas, ranging from eugenicists to illusionists, each contributing to a tapestry of ambition and excess. However, the production largely eschews traditional dialogue, relying instead on expressive movement and choreography to convey meaning. While some scenes effectively showcase the physicality of the performers, encapsulating the tension and intimacy of their interactions, others fall short in clarity. The choreography, crafted by the Tony-nominated duo Jeff and Rick Kuperman, at times captivates with its artistry, evoking the fluid dynamics of power and control. Yet, moments of confrontation and seduction, laden with dramatic potential, often confuse rather than clarify the relationships at play. The lack of a cohesive narrative structure leaves audiences piecing together motivations and connections, which can feel more tedious than thrilling. As the evening progresses, the lavish staging and dynamic performances provide a feast for the senses. The underground boxing ring, with its pulsating lights and slow-motion combat, stands in stark contrast to the more introspective moments of self-reflection and conflict. Yet, amidst the impressive visuals, there remains a void where a robust story should reside. The characters, though vividly portrayed, often appear as disjointed fragments within a larger, murky puzzle that eludes resolution. "Life and Trust" offers an ambitious exploration of themes such as ambition, morality, and the seductive allure of power. However, the disconnect between its stunning visual artistry and the narrative depth leaves much to be desired. For those seeking a coherent tale, the experience may feel like a tantalizing, yet frustrating, journey through a world rich in potential yet lacking in clarity. In the end, the audience is left to ponder whether the cost of investment in this theatrical endeavor was worth the price of admission.