Barcelona Metropolis

Not really. My first theatrical influence was my sister-in-law Teresa Lozano, my older brother’s wife. She did theatre and he’s the one who introduced me directly to the world of theatre.

I come from a somewhat upper-class family. A family in which everyone has pursued higher education and many of whom are doctors. Jokingly, they often call me “Dr. Portaceli”. I have two older brothers, I was the long-awaited daughter many years later. One is an architect and the other, a doctor. As I said, an educated family.

I haven’t had a conventional upbringing. My mother, who was a conventional woman, brought up in a traditional manner, was very ambitious when it came to her children. For example, at the age of twelve, I was sent to London for three months to stay with a family to learn English. Later I was sent to another family in Dublin and then I went to university in London. My mother thought it was a way to raise me and put me on a level where I had to be, and to make me acquainted with freedom.

I remember the first time in London, the impact of seeing Black, Indian and Chinese people, all mixed together. I came from a place where we were all the same, both in Barcelona and Valencia, because I’ve spent my life between these two cities. And I remember thinking, “This is the world, where I come from is not the world”. And that was more or less my upbringing.

When I was little, I wasn’t taught Catalan at school in Valencia, but I studied it at home. At the age of twelve, I still remember going to Eliseu Climent’s bookshop, the Llibreria Tres i Quatre, famous because the far right set it on fire two or three times a year. I asked for a grammar book to learn Catalan, as I knew how to speak it but no one taught me grammar and it was forbidden at school.

When I was seventeen I came to study Art History at the University of Barcelona, ​​and when I was finishing my degree I joined the Institut del Teatre and started directing on courses in directing actors for the camera, because I really liked the cinema. And thanks to that experience, I realised that theatre was my greatest interest in the world, and I started working as an assistant director. I have had the utmost privilege of learning directing alongside Fabià Puigserver and Lluís Pasqual, who have been my mentors.

Yes, I was then awarded a scholarship and went to Paris. There I assisted Antoine Vitez, an extremely well-educated man, the last of the humanists. I may not have done the theatre I’d have liked to have done, but I did learn respect for the text from him. We did Electra, and with boundless freedom. I understood that classic theatre can be done in a modern fashion if you are able to grasp its essence. Years later, when I did L’auca del senyor Esteve [The Epic Life of Mr. Esteve] at the Teatre Nacional, Santiago Rusiñol’s great-grandson, moved after seeing the performance, came to me and said: “We cried, we laughed and I can only think that if my great-grandfather was here, he’d say that this is his work in the 21st century”. You don't have to be afraid of the classics and you always have to broach them with absolute respect, but you have to transport them to our vision, because that’s what we have, we don’t have any other.

He was very vivacious, even though I met him when I was beginning to fall ill and they still didn’t know what was wrong with me. He gave me the rights to his work Combat de negre i de gossos [Battle of Black and Dogs being the English title]. When I returned to Barcelona I staged the show in Espai B at the Mercat de les Flors venue. Until then no one had done theatre there, I inaugurated it as a theatre venue. Then one day Fabià came to see the rehearsal. He had just been denied the bullring in Plaça d’Espanya and he discovered the space. Koltès wanted to come to Barcelona to see the première, on 27 or 28 September 1988, but couldn’t because he was premiering Return to the Desert in Paris on the same day. And he passed away a few months later.

I’ve had lots, a run of them, but I don’t have that many now. What I liked most was their freedom. They always have tremendous freedom when it comes to doing things and telling them the way they do. I’m not so close to this trend right now, although it still piques my interest. Now really beautiful things are happening dramatically speaking in our country, there are extraordinary people who must have the opportunity to keep growing. Because of my relationship with my European colleagues, I am very interested in what’s happening in some areas of Italy, in Portugal… Movements are starting to emerge that really appeal to me.

I’ve seen a project called Between Lands being pioneering, a European initiative designed to work to defend culture and the Europe of cultures and all the values ​​that encapsulates. I will continue to foster the initiative through the Teatre Nacional de Catalunya.

Especially if there is a dialogue between the productions and playwrights. For example, that a playwright from there and one from here work on a French production, in a play that deals with borders or any topic that interests us, forever advocating culture together in the face of political issues that we have somewhat neglected.

I’m sure I won’t encounter any problems, because what I think I have to do in a national theatre is to make it a theatre for everyone. Therefore, hospitality should be our course of action. This will be our major policy, to hold onto the TNC’s entire audience and that has kept this theatre going year after year. But at the same time, we need to open the doors. The TNC must provide a gateway for artists who have never worked there and also broaden the audience to include new age groups, without class or gender restrictions.

It won’t a problem for me. It’s both my intention and in my genes. No explanation is needed, a theatre is the mirror of the world and there are men and women in the world, so there should be the same in the theatre.

In principle, I think they have to be supported, and I’m no one to say who’s coming and who isn’t, but you can guess which people might be more likely to break that glass ceiling and fill the 800 seats. And you can prepare them with exercises, so that they progressively go down this path until they end up in the Great Hall one day.

We called it “Reading Spanish in the Neighbourhoods”. We did theatrical readings on the weekends at community centres or in neighbourhood libraries. Extraordinary synergies were created with the people involved.

When I joined, the average occupancy of the Teatro Español was 28%. Within five months, I raised it to 67% of its total capacity and ended it up at 80%. I was let go afterwards.

I had a three-year contract, extendable to another three years, a regular contract. And I was told over the phone that I wouldn’t continue after the first three years. Of course, they respected my last season.

In my case there were two cycles and it was not renewed. It’s the same as saying they let me go. But well, that’s what happened and we ended up with 80% occupancy, a good figure considering that there are about sixty seats with reduced visibility in the Teatro Español.

There was a few years back, I don’t think there is now. Madrid has alternative theatre venues and an interesting theatre scene, more than a few years ago.

Yes, it’s as if we were saying “the theatre” on Gran Via, which is something else entirely, like the Paral·lel here when it existed.

I left the FEI when I started working at the Teatro Español. I could have stayed given the kind of contract I had; I found it to be legitimate, but not nice.

That’s what I do. Frankly, I think that’s what most artists do: you seek out your own language that fulfils you, that allows you to tell what you want to say, and that goes straight to the audience’s heart. And that’s what I’ve done since the outset. I started working on live music and stage movement, and that led me to do a lot of research into the kind of language in a more conceptual and abstract stage space. It’s about the situation coming out of nowhere and everything being transformed.

I have indeed also used audiovisual media a lot since I made Gènova in 2004, at a time when it was still not widely used. I used it as another resource to reach the heart and to explain things using images. But I don’t think audiovisual media is at odds with the essence of theatre, which is the word, because it’s with the word that you create the world.

Yes, but they were very short extracts and it was very clear what Byung-Chul Han says. We live in the age of communication and during the lockdown we have been hyperconnected all day via Zoom, Skype or WhatsApp, but suddenly we realise that we do not form a community. What about rituals, which are community-building, and why aren’t we performing them? And we know what we’re talking about, because we live in a country where the dead from part of the war haven't been buried properly. We are well aware of how serious it is to skip rituals. And then Han said yet another interesting thing that we just pointed out and is wholly related to this theory of authenticity: now it turns out that we have to be authentic, we have to say what we feel or think, what comes into our mouths and what we feel like saying. Instead, Han argues that there are rules of coexistence and that we cannot say anything that pops into our head. And this is called sincerity or authenticity, but it is quite the opposite. The ego is always at the centre of it all, as if what you think is very important; and it’s not, it’s often better to keep it to yourself and not hurt anyone. My friend Pepa López always says: “Sincerity must be reserved for what is good, not for what is bad”.

It is irreplaceable because physical presence is what builds community. The essence of theatre is this community, and it is also the essence of the human community. What makes us ready for coexistence and tolerance is sitting together while we watch the same thing, and being touched side by side, and then we’ll discuss whether you like it or not, because it’s not the most important thing. What’s most important is witnessing a situation together and being moved and breathing together. I always tell my students, “I’m not interested in what you think, or whether you liked it or not”; the important thing is that you tell me what you thought while you were in the theatre, and we can discuss it from there. I don’t give classes to see whether you liked it or not, we can’t always be that important.

Not right now. I know the people who work at the Teatre Nacional very well and they are not ones to stop working at five in the afternoon. I enjoy working in a team, listening, discussing and bringing people together. The TNC has the best technical teams, smart people who are eager to get things done, and we need to get up to date on things like technology and English. Maybe I’m very naive and I’ll run into all sorts of problems, like all public theatres, but I think I am joining a team of top-notch professionals, and that makes me confident.