Shared campfires

continuous state of recognition and strangeness, of identification and singularity, of Castilian Spanish spoken in other lands, with different accents, different tones, by different peoples. This first workshop coincided – thanks to effective management by all concerned – with the premiere of La piedra oscura in Bogota, directed by Victor Quesada. This production became unexpectedly relevant, in the wake of the recently signed treaty between the FARC and the Government. Suddenly, a play set in a prison cell in Santander, during the Spanish civil war, was re-signified to address Colombian questions of forgiveness, dialogue and of trying to become “we” again. I remember those days in Bogota in 2016 as a happy feeling of vertigo, like a sweet kind of altitude sickness. After Bogota came Santiago de Chile and from there, on to Asunción. Perhaps Paraguay was the country where the experience was most complete and most profound. This is a country that longs for an imaginarium, for presence, for permanence. It is an inland island, an ever-changing identity. The city bears open wounds, entire neighbourhoods are foreclosed, there are abysmal differences between one man and another, between one woman and another. Here, the people of the theatre struggle to reach their destiny, fearlessly and without hesitation in incredibly difficult circumstances, all to create a national theatre. In this respect, the work being done in the Juan de Salazar Centre, where I gave my workshop, which was later led by Eloísa Vaello Marco, is proving to be decisive. A year later I returned there, for the premiere of La piedra oscura, directed by Jorge Baez. In Asunción I still have dear friends, like Ana Ivanova and Manu Alviso, who for me represent a generation, together with others such as David Cañete and Paola Irún, who seek to create a theatre where perhaps very few would even expect it, but need it so badly. The hospitality I received from each and every one of them is unforgettable. I hope that my presence there, during the first edition of the Hispanic-Paraguayan Theatre Month, and next year, giving another workshop, on Theatre and Memory, will lend further momentum to their beautiful struggle. The tour finished in Lima nearly one month later. As well as the workshop at the Cultural Centre of Spain, which was then being directed by David Ruiz López-Prisuelos, I gave one on Theatre and Memory at the University of the Pacific, thanks to the intercession of the actor and theatre manager Sergio Llusera. Again, I met a devoted and generous team, men and women sharing paths, stories and challenges. The next year I returned to the city for the premiere of La piedra oscura, directed by Juan Bautista de Lavalle, which had previously been staged in the Centre’s own theatre, and before that, in Teatro de Lucía. There, I gave a workshop on Lorca’s “impossible theatre”, taking advantage of the different performance spaces offered by the Centre. How beautiful the sound of Lorca’s poetry, there in the heart of Lima, in that beautiful pink building. Also during my stay in Lima, I advised the director on Duende, a local production about Lorca. I have mentioned the three premieres of La piedra oscura – there was another one in 2019 in Santiago de Chile – because this performance enabled each of the casts involved to present to a local audience the two main themes of the text: the question of historic memory and the rights of the LGTBI collective. But of course, it was a round trip. That intense month has reverberated in everything I have written since. When I finish writing something for the theatre and I realise I’m not the same person I was before, then I feel that the effort was worth it. And that’s true of my travels, too. Upon returning to Madrid, I wasn’t

Alberto Conejero, during a workshop in the Lima Cultural Centre, February 2018

the same person. My colleagues, the accents and the theatres of Bogotá, Lima, Asunción and Santiago will always be with me. The memory of theatre is fragile, very fragile. The stage is like a campfire, it calls us near, it brings us together and when it goes out, it sends us on our way. But the memory remains of that light and that shared warmth. From the workshops in Bogota, Santiago, Asunción and Lima, what accompanies me is not so much what I tried to teach and transmit, but what I have learnt from them. I trust that some of the seeds that we sowed will bear fruit, sooner or later, one way or another. The bond that remains three years later with many of those pupils and colleagues is, for me, the most precious and beautiful part of that trip. I’m profoundly thankful to AECID and to the National Drama Centre for trusting me and giving me this opportunity. In my opening words, I said that to exist, theatre always needs the first-person plural. To conclude, I have no doubt that this “We” must be masculine and feminine, from south to north and north to south, defying the frontiers created by flags and economic power, making culture and theatre our universal heritage.

Playwright. B.Sc. in Dramatic Art from the Royal School of Dramatic Arts, and doctor in Religious Sciences from the Complutense University of Madrid. Ceres Best Author Award 2015. Max Best Theatre Author Award 2016.

Mercedes Ferrer Twinned countries

Closing concert of the Week of the Author, in the CCSMx Auditorium, 2014 In Mexico City, in Plaza de la Constitución – better known as the Zócalo – and behind the Renaissance cathedral, there stands one of the oldest and most emblematic buildings of the historic city centre: the Cultural Centre of Spain in Mexico (CCSMx). When you come to the gigantic, vibrant and captivating Mexico City for the first time, it is impossible to miss the Cultural Centre, and equally impossible not to be entranced by the architectural charm of this 16 th century building, which in the 18th century was partially transformed into the popular Mexican Baroque style. In 2011, the Centre’s facilities were expanded into new spaces in an avant-garde building designed by Mexican architects Javier Sánchez, José Castillo and Saidee Springall. The extension opened onto number 97, Calle Donceles but remained connected, internally, with the original structure. I have visited the Centre on numerous occasions, but I will always treasure the memory of that first time, in 2004, when I was invited to participate in the Historic Centre Festival, at a concert in the Zócalo. Many years later, with the Platform of Women Artists, I took part in another wonderful concert in the same square, for thousands of people. I later came to live to Mexico City, from 2007 to 2010, and often visited the Cultural Centre, just before its remodelling and expansion. The Centre was an unmissable rendezvous for get-togethers, photo shoots, press conferences and chats on the terrace, looking towards the Cathedral; a meeting place, or just somewhere to relax and enjoy life; a place to take stock and find creative inspiration, a place for the unexpected, a place in which to dream. But the most interesting aspect of the Centre is its relentless artistic activism, based on understanding, exchange, syncretism and integration. For some, these might be just words, but for many of us they mean a lot. For artists, for all who are active in the field of culture, the Centre is a pillar, a solid foundation for our work: if there were no such exchange, if we were unable to soak up other influences, without that idea of integration, there would be no cultural and artistic life. And culture in Mexico is very important. It is part of everyday existence, in this city and throughout the country. Mexico is a cultural giant that subsists from ancestral and contemporary sources alike; and one such source is the legacy left by the tens of thousands of exiled Spanish Republicans, welcomed by the then President, Lázaro Cárdenas. Among those exiles were great names such as León Felipe, José Gaos and Remedios Varo, who disembarked from the Sinaia and other ships to a warm welcome from the Mexican Government, whose solidarity and humanitarian actions brought about a remarkable cultural enrichment, with the founding of schools, colleges and university faculties.