keeping

I am blindfolded and seated in a vintage armchair set in the center of a darkened, red-lit room with Gothic accents. An actor is performing nearby. I hear their voice, but cannot, of course, see them. I suddenly spring upward in my seat, alarmed at the touch of some sort of cloth — or perhaps a feather? — across my ankles.

I’ll never be entirely sure. For wearing the small veil across my eyes was a requirement to participate in “Poe: Pulse & Pendulum,” the debut offering from new troupe Theatre Obscura L.A. The company’s initial performance contains two one-act plays, modern interpretations of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Pit and the Pendulum” and “The Tell-Tale Heart.”

While the stories are familiar to many, Theatre Obscura increases the levels of discomfort. In this room, I am at times unsettled, at once tracking the movements of the actors while attempting to remain hyper aware of any sudden touch or scent. “The Pit and the Pendulum,” the first half of the program, translates especially well to this setting, its dark sense of demented confinement keeping my nerves on high alert.

Conjuring such a state of anxiety was the point.

“If you take the visual away, it’s going to make you feel uneasy,” says Paul Millet, who devised the concept.

There are jump scares. Downtown event space the Count’s Den has been outfitted with about 50 speakers for the Obscura shows, which run through April 12. Some are visible before one puts on the blindfold. Many, though, are hidden under seats or couches, as the audio will trail the actors around the room, or perhaps a sudden crash or door opening will have me jolting my attention elsewhere.

“The Pit and the Pendulum” is a story of torture, and as the narrator, here played by Melissa Lugo, desperately speaks of a blade swinging above, actors will fan us, timing their waves with each swoosh of the audio. I was prepared for that one, as a fellow theatergoer nearby let out a soft yelp when the unseen gestures first arrived above their head.

For many, sight is the most coveted sense. “If you take that away, you’re already naturally uncomfortable,” Millet says. “So we lean into that. We know you’re going to be uncomfortable. We know this is not the norm. But get on that ride with us. Be willing to be uncomfortable. Discomfort, I think, helps to heighten the experience, and ideally allow it to trigger the emotional reactions that the story does.”

“Poe: Pulse & Pendulum” is two one-act, audio-focused performances of Edgar Allan Poe stories.

(Joe Camareno / Theatre Obscura)

Still, touch is limited in the show. Occasionally a rattling of a chair, but little more. The fluttering I felt near my ankles was to mimic the sensation of a running critter. The troupe will ask for audience consent, and participants can opt out. While I went in wondering if “Poe: Pulse & Pendulum” would seek to recall more extreme haunt experiences with lengthy waivers, Millet wanted to keep it light — an audio play, primarily, with just a few in-the-flesh signals.

“We want people to feel unease, but I don’t want anyone taken out of the story because a boundary or line was crossed,” Millet says.

Scent, too, is used with restraint. There are moments when guests will get a whiff of a fragrance that pairs with the storyline. Millet considers the first run of Theatre Obscure to be an experiment in how much touch and scent audiences may want to endure. Smell, he says, is tricky, as the aroma may linger and become a distraction.

Millet has been honing the concept since 2023. Previously, he was part of the team behind Wicked Lit, which ended in 2019 after running for a number of years at unique locations such as Altadena’s Mountain View Mausoleum. Those immersive performances would feature casts and guests walking the venue. Theatre Obscura, however, is fully seated.

“Poe: Pulse & Pendulum” focuses on the fear that something may happen to us when stripped of sight.

(Joe Camareno / Theatre Obscura)

And while the stories of Poe lend themselves to the Halloween season, spooky events increasingly occur year round. Long-running production “The Willows” is set to wrap in early April, and “Monster Party,” a period piece that takes guests to a devilishly extravagant cocktail party, is re-launching in mid-April. Millet, a longtime theater producer who has a day job in television editing, is hoping to stand out by avoiding “the glut” of horror events that occur each September and October.

Theatre Obscura may face challenges, namely persuading potential guests that “The Pit and the Pendulum” is more than simply a live reading with audio effects.

“You can feel the movement of the characters around you,” Millet says. “You’re in the environment with the story as it unfolds. You can experience it on a more visceral level.”

Blindfolded, I felt Theatre Obscura was mostly playing off our fears rather than giving in to them, largely keying in on our anticipation that something may happen to us when stripped of sight. Lugo in much of “The Pit and the Pendulum” circles guests, who are seated sporadically around the room, allowing each of us to imagine how close or far we may be from the hole we are told is at its center. Each show deals with claustrophobia in some way, either of a space, or of a mind.

“The Tell-Tale Heart” is louder, more crowded. The sounds of crashing glass and creaky floorboards had my head working overtime to draw a floorplan, only to then have it distorted when actors would unexpectedly whisper in both of my ears to bring forth the protagonist’s nightmares. While I expected Theatre Obscura to be slightly more aggressive in its uses of touch and scent, it’s a show that asks us to live in our heads, and to sit in our own feeling of trepidation.

“I was intrigued,” Millet says, “with really trying to engage the audience’s imagination.”

Before becoming a global phenomenon in the 2000s thanks to artists like Aventura, Monchy y Alexandra and Prince Royce, and before being declared an “intangible cultural heritage of humanity” by UNESCO in 2019, bachata was — and continues to be — the soundtrack of the Dominican Republic.

The importance of the genre to the people of the Caribbean nation is at the heart of “Agridulce,” a music documentary that had its world premiere at this month’s South by Southwest Film Festival in Austin, Texas. Filmed over the course of five years, the feature follows four young students at Academia de Bachata, a music conservatory in the beachside resort town of Cabarete. It’s the only school of its kind in the world.

Academia de Bachata was founded in 2013 by music producer Benjamin De Menil. After traveling to the Dominican Republic to record for nearly three decades, De Menil says he wanted to create something that would ensure that the next generation continues the traditions of bachata.

“One of the things I loved about the bachata musicians I was working with early on is that they were such natural musicians. There was never any sheet music, so whenever we were going to record I would say, ‘Let’s do this song and it goes like this,’ and they would listen to it for a little bit before they figured it out and they were playing it,” he said. “I thought that we could somehow harness that energy in a more organized and educational format and make a school where we’re helping young children become professional musicians within this genre that has a lot of opportunity.”

De Menil partnered with DREAM Project, a nonprofit organization that did work in Cabarete, and launched Academia de Bachata in 2013. Since then, the school has provided hundreds of children with a free musical education.

“There were a lot of things we were trying to figure out along the way about what the best way to teach this music was because this wasn’t your typical conservatory. We were focusing on the traditions passed on rather than some style of music that there are already textbooks for.”

To make “Agridulce,” De Menil, who produced the film, reached out to Frank Pavich, director of the 2013 “Jodorowsky’s Dune,” the cult classic documentary about avant-garde filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky’s quixotic and failed attempt to adapt Frank Herbert’s 1965 sci-fi novel “Dune.” It didn’t take much to bring him on onboard.

“Ben contacted me and told me about the project. I responded with what’s Bachata?,” the Croatian American director said. “I had never even heard of the musical genre. And then he sent me some music. He sent me footage that he had shot of [Cabarete] and of the school. And it was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It was so colorful and so incredible that I just wanted to jump on right away. I was like, ‘Great, when can we go down there and start shooting? It was really that fast.”

Pavich says now he hears bachata everywhere.

“I live between Switzerland and Croatia and now that I know how to pick it up, I hear it in cars passing by a cafe in Geneva and in Croatia,” he said. “It’s everywhere, it’s infiltrated everything in the best way possible.”

“Agridulce” is an ethnomusicological documentary — it captures the music of a specific place and people and shows how the tradition is kept alive — that also doubles as a coming of age story. The film follows students of varying ages — Edickson, Frandy, Orianny and Yerian — out of the classroom, showing us moments of intimacy with their families and friends while also giving us a slice of quotidian life in Cabarete.

As such, “Agridulce” doesn’t shy away from the political tensions of the beachside resort. Much like in the U.S., immigration is a contentious topic in the Dominican Republic — the country shares the island of Hispaniola with Haiti, which has seen an exodus of its people over the decade.

De Menil and Pavich said that nearly a third of Academia de Bachata’s student body is of Haitian descent, and that they would have had to go out of their way to not include one of them in the film.

This tension plays out in the storyline of Frendy, a magnetic student of Haitian descent who uses bachata to fit in.

“Many young people are in that position of being made to feel they don’t belong at that time in life when a person most wants to find their place,” De Menil said. “We see that music can help kids, particularly immigrant kids, find belonging.”

“The film ultimately speaks to the way that culture and shared history contribute to the development of authentic, lived creativity,” said South by Southwest consulting programmer Jim Kolmar. “It’s something innate and inevitable, and ‘Agridulce’ really explores that beautifully. Obviously it’s full of incredible music, but the deeper cultural context is essential, and seeing it through the perspective of the students at Academia de Bachata helps us connect the dots.”