san jose

For L.A.-based musician, composer and artist San Cha, the Spanish language is a creative gold mine. “One of my favorite Spanish words is ‘embriágame,’ which I think the direct translation is ‘make me drunk’ or ‘intoxicate me,’” she says. “I love that word. I think there’s a song by Thalía that has that word, it’s called ‘Piel Morena,’ and every time she said that, I’m like — ‘That’s it!’”

San Cha is speaking of her latest work, “Inebria me,” ahead of its Los Angeles premiere Thursday at REDCAT, inside the Walt Disney Concert Hall complex. “Inebria me” is a 90-minute experimental opera that expands on her critically acclaimed 2019 ranchera fusion album, “La Luz de la Esperanza.” San Cha stars as Dolores, a humble bride to the much wealthier Salvador, whose jealousy turns deadly; enter Esperanza, a genderless spirit of empowerment, who helps light Dolores’ path to freedom.

Having gone from singing rancheras in the restaurants of Mexico City to experimenting in underground drag scenes in the Bay Area, San Cha has developed a knack for synthesizing disparate influences that result in visually arresting and thought-provoking work. Born Lizette Gutierrez in San Jose to Mexican immigrant parents, San Cha grew up offsetting her intense Bible study by binging on telenovelas after school. It shows in “Inebria me,” where she employs the classic narrative structure of the telenovela, but with a queer twist. “I wanted to hold [onto] the queerness of [the story] and the religious aspects of it,” she says.

The opera is the latest of San Cha’s collaborative efforts. She’s previously linked up with an array of artists — including La Doña, Rafa Esparza, Yesika Salgado and even country singer Kacey Musgraves, who featured San Cha in a pivotal moment from her 2021 visual album, “Star-Crossed.” Darian Donovan Thomas also stars in “Inebria me,” alongside Stefa Marin Alarcon, Lu Coy, Kyle Kidd, Carolina Oliveros and Phong Tran.

In our latest interview, she discusses developing her music for the stage and what it took to build the confidence to advocate for her original vision on her own.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

San Cha performs with Darian Donovan Thomas on Sept. 5 at the Winningstad Theatre in Portland, Ore.

(Jingzi Zhao)

When did the idea to adapt “La Luz de la Esperanza” come to you?
It actually came to me in 2023 or 2024 when I partnered with the National Performance Network for this grant. I started talking with the Portland Institute for Contemporary Art, which was already on board, and the Performance Space New York. Like, what would I do to adapt this work?

Did you have experience in traditional theater growing up?
No, I didn’t. And I also didn’t watch too many movies. I missed out on a lot of those very American experiences. People would be like, “Do you know this movie?’ And “It’s like a classic,” and it’s like “No.” I was really sheltered, you know, “I’m over here in Bible study” kind of s—.

Has anyone in your family seen this piece? If so, what was their feedback?
My parents saw a trial version of this piece in San Jose, my hometown. They saw the PG-13 version, which is what I’d like to say, and my mom was confused; I don’t even know how my dad felt. My mom’s one comment was, “You didn’t sing rancheras. Everyone wants you to sing rancheras.” And I was like, “Oh, my God.” So they also came to the closing night with a big group, and I sang the rancheras for them at the end.

How would you relate “Inebria me” to what’s considered a “traditional” opera?
I would say it has a very clear narrative … everything is sung, except for the parts [where] the Man [is] talking or speaking.

I sing rancheras [and] that kind of blends into operas. I didn’t grow up being an opera singer, or wanting to be an opera singer, but somehow it developed in that direction. In this, we get to be all the things: a little hardcore, a little pop, a little mix with opera.

Where did the idea to bring in telenovelas come from?
I wanted to make a telenovela set to music. And because I’d never seen a queer telenovela … I just was like, I want to make the telenovela and set it to disco music … something electronic, glamorous. It [speaks to] the illusion of glamour, underneath everything is ugly and twisted.

What was your first memory of watching a telenovela?
There are so many. I’d watch the kid telenovelas. But there’s one in particular … it’s one where Lucero, a big pop star in Mexico, plays three versions of herself, so she’s a triplet. And there’s one [version] that is so evil. I still remember, [the characters] would get very BDSM … like locking people up! As a kid, I was feeling like … “Why am I watching this? I’m a child!”

“I didn’t grow up wanting to be an opera singer, but somehow it developed in that direction,” says San Cha of “Inebria me.”

(Jingzi Zhao)

You’ve talked about how drag queens were instrumental, especially early in your career. Queer and drag culture have come into mainstream pop and youth culture on the one hand, but remain demonized on the other. How do you reconcile those two extremes in your work?
I guess visibility doesn’t always mean safety or acceptance. I remember being in San Francisco and seeing drag that wasn’t as polished and more on the fringe side of it.

I was … kind of hating it when I got to L.A. and how polished everyone was. But when I saw “RuPaul’s Drag Race” reruns on VH1, I was like, “This is literally life-changing.” And how cool that this is becoming mainstream!

In a previous interview, you discussed sin and guilt as the themes of this work. Many artists have explored this theme in various ways across different cultures and times. Why do you think ideas around guilt and sin hold such power over us?
You’re made to do what you don’t want to do by [people] making you feel shame for the ways you act. And in [“Inebria me”], the sisters each have a confession, and I wanted to make that a focal point — with the nun, the religious person.

In telenovelas, there’s always a priest [they] talk to when they have troubles, you know? And I think in the [Catholic practice of] confession, it is important to relieve yourself of the shame and guilt. But it’s almost like you relieve yourself and then you feel shame, you know? And that’s the part that stops growth, evolution and freedom.

For someone whose first impression of “Inebria me” is that it’s not for them, what do you think they would be surprised to discover or an element they would enjoy?
Everyone in this piece is a star, everyone’s a diva. I think they all really shine on their own, and they really bring it with the acting. Their voices are all incredible, and their stage presence. Maybe they could be into the scene design by Anthony Robles — it’s super minimal, but it does so much for the space in creating this oppressive world. I think there is something for everyone. It’s a story that can relate to a lot of people.

SAN JOSE — Matt Mahan didn’t set out to be a scold and pain in Gavin Newsom’s backside.

He doesn’t mean to sound like a wrathful Republican when he criticizes one-party rule in Sacramento. Or a disgruntled independent when he assails a Democratic establishment that’s become, as he sees it, “a club of insiders who take care of each other” and mostly go along to get along.

Maybe because that’s “my diagnosis of it,” said the 42-year-old San José mayor, “I have tried very consciously to not fall into that trap of just wanting to be liked.”

He is, Mahan insists, a Democrat to his core, his roots sunk deep in the loamy soil of working-class Watsonville, where, over the mountains and light years from Silicon Valley, he grew up the son of a mail carrier and a high school teacher.

That makes his candor all the more bracing, and refreshing, at a time when Democrats are struggling nationally to regain their footing and find a meaningful way forward.

“We have become so caught up in our own rhetoric of helping the little guy that we’ve stopped actually checking to make sure that we are doing that,” Mahan said over lunch at a cantina downtown.

Results, he said, are what matter. Not good intentions.

And certainly not the performative pugilism that some, including the hyper-online Newsom, pass off as leadership. “A sugar high,” Mahan called it.

“I think a lot of Democrats are frustrated and feel powerless, and so that rhetoric has this cathartic effect,” he said. “But I don’t know that it actually, over time, moves us toward success, and I mean not just success in society, but even political success, because ultimately, if you’re not offering solutions, I think you can have a hard time getting to a majority position.”

Mahan comes by his outsider status naturally.

In high school, he rode the bus four hours a day — from Watsonville to San José and back again — to attend a college prep academy on a work-study scholarship. (“My golden ticket,” he called it.) He worked on the grounds crew to help pay his way, and continued on to Harvard, where his dorm mates included Mark Zuckerberg. (The two hung out in college and still talk occasionally.)

After a year in Bolivia, helping family farmers, and a stint teaching middle school, Mahan co-founded a social media company that focused on civic engagement and raising money for nonprofits. He was elected to the San José City Council in 2020. Even before his first term was completed, Mahan launched an upstart bid for mayor.

The front-runner was a member of the Santa Clara County Board of Supervisors, a former San José vice mayor and longtime civic leader. Waging a nothing-to-lose campaign — “we had no endorsements, we had much less money” — Mahan knocked on thousands of doors. He asked voters what they had on their minds.

It turned out to be rudimentary stuff. Potholes. Public safety. A sense they were paying a whole lot of taxes and getting very little in return.

The experience impressed two things upon Mahan: a need for accountability and the importance of voters’ lived experience, as opposed to vague promises, abstract notions and politically fashionable statements.

“I think ultimately political success and policy success comes from offering better ideas and demonstrating impact,” Mahan said, sounding very much like the technocrat he calls himself.

Mahan won the mayor’s race — narrowly, in a major upset — and was reelected two years later in a November 2024 landslide. (The year Mahan was elected, San José voted to shift its mayoral contest to correspond with presidential balloting, which cut his first term in half.)

Soon enough, Mahan found himself at odds with some major Democratic constituencies, including powerful labor unions, which pushed back over wages and a return-to-office policy, and homeless advocates who bristled at Mahan’s focus on short-term housing and threat to arrest homeless people who refused multiple offers of shelter.

“Homelessness can’t be a choice,” Mahan said at a spring news conference announcing the move.

His heresies don’t end there.

Mahan broke with many Democrats by vigorously supporting Proposition 36, the 2024 anti-crime measure that stiffened penalties for repeated theft and crimes involving fentanyl. Despite opposition from Newsom and most of the state’s Democratic leadership, it passed with nearly 70% support; Mahan has since criticized Newsom and the Democratic-run Legislature for stinting on funds needed for implementation.

But his most conspicuous breach involves the governor’s Trumpy transformation into a social media troll.

While the mockery and memes may feel good as snickering payback and certainly stoke the Democratic base — boosting Newsom’s presidential hopes — Mahan suggested they are ultimately counterproductive.

“If we don’t have a politics of solutions and making people’s lives better, I just don’t know where we end up,” he said, as his enchiladas sat cooling before him. “It’s politics practiced in bad faith, where we just … tell people things that test well because they sound nice, and then we just blame the other side for being evil, incompetent, corrupt. … It’s just a race to the bottom.”

He took particular issue with Newsom’s taunting reaction after Bed Bath & Beyond recently announced it won’t open or operate new stores in California.

It wasn’t “a reasoned argument,” Mahan wrote in a scathing opinion piece in the San Francisco Standard. The tart headline: “How about less time breaking the internet and more time fixing California?”

“‘Breaking the internet’ doesn’t solve real-world problems — quite the opposite,” Mahan wrote. “More often than not, it’s just political theater that serves to excuse inaction and ineffective policies.”

He elaborated over lunch.

“You have an employer who’s pointing out real issues that everybody else who’s watching thinks are real issues. Talking about business climate, cost of doing business, public safety issues, retail theft, untreated addiction and mental illness,” Mahan said.

“When we start turning on constituents because we don’t agree with their ideology, or attacking Trump is more important than actually solving problems or listening to the criticism … I think we’re heading down a dangerous road.”

Inevitably, there’s the question: To what end all this poking of thumbs in his fellow Democrats’ eyes?

Mahan has drawn wide notice, in particular from the more pragmatic wing of the party. His back-to-basics approach has yielded some measurable success. A recent study called San José the safest major city in the country and, while the overall homeless population grew slightly, there’s been progress moving people off the streets into city shelters.

He considered plunging into the race for governor, but the timing wasn’t right. Mahan has two small children and a wife who’s flourishing in her career as an educator. Besides, Mahan said, he’s quite content being mayor of California’s third-most populous city.

“I have a wonderful marriage,” Mahan said. “I have two wonderful kids. I loved working in the private sector. I’ve got a lot of great friends. I’m doing this because I genuinely want to make our city better, and I love the job. But it’s not who I am, and I can separate myself from the job.”

That grounding and perspective, so different from those politicians oozing ambition from every pore, may be Mahan’s best commendation for higher office.

If and when.

Denis Bouanga scored three goals, his second hat trick in the last three games, and LAFC beat Real Salt Lake 4-1 on Sunday night at BMO Stadium.

Bouanga, who has scored in four consecutive games, has 22 goals this season, tied with Lionel Messi for the most in MLS. Bouanga had 20 goals in each of the last two seasons and is the first player in MLS history with at least 20 goals in three consecutive seasons.

The 30-year-old Bouanga, who also had three goals in a 4-2 win over San José on Sept. 13, has a club-record four career hat tricks in the regular season, one more than Carlos Vela.

Son Heung-min added a goal and two assists for LAFC (14-7-8).

LAFC, which clinched a playoff spot when St. Louis beat San José 3-1 on Saturday, has 50 points and is fourth in the Western Conference. Third-place Minnesota has 54 points and Seattle is fifth with 45.

Son, who had his first MLS hat trick in LAFC’s 4-1 win over Salt Lake on the road Wednesday, has seven goals in the past three games.

Salt Lake (10-16-4) has lost five of six.

Bouanga scored in the first minute of first-half stoppage time and Son bounced a shot from outside the area off the near post and into the net a couple minutes later to give LAFC a 2-1 lead at halftime.

Bouanga added goals in the 73rd and 87th minutes.

Brayan Vera scored his first goal of the season in the 14th minute on a left-foot shot from well outside the area that slipped under the crossbar and inside the back post to give Salt Lake a 1-0 lead.

SANTA CLARA — Denis Bouanga finished with a hat trick after Son Heung-min scored in the first minute and LAFC beat the San José Earthquakes 4-2 on Saturday night at Levi Stadium.

Son gave LAFC (12-7-8) the lead when he used passes from rookie Artem Smolyakov and Mark Delgado to score 54 seconds into the match. It was Son’s second goal in five matches since transferring from Tottenham Hotspur. He ties for the third fastest goal in club history. Smolyakov’s assist was his first in his 19th appearance and Delgado’s was his career-high eighth.

Bouanga took over from there — scoring in the ninth, 12th and 87th minutes for his third career three-goal effort in regular-season play. Bouanga, who won the Golden Boot Award in 2023, has 18 goals on the season — three behind league leader Sam Surridge of Nashville SC.

Preston Judd scored in the 18th minute for the Earthquakes, whose final tally came on an own goal by LAFC defender Sergi Palencia in the 90th minute. Judd’s netter was his career-best seventh. Palencia had assists on two of Bouanga’s goals.

Hugo Lloris saved three shots for LAFC (12-7-8).

Daniel De Sousa Britto totaled two saves for the Earthquakes (9-13-8).

LAFC pulls one point behind the fourth-place Seattle Sounders in the Western Conference with the top four seeds earning home-field advantage in the best-of-three first round.

LAFC travels to play Real Salt Lake on Wednesday. The Earthquakes host St. Louis City on Saturday.