Isona Passola: "I see those who haven't retired as younger, happier, and more beautiful."

BarcelonaIsona Passola i Vidal (Barcelona, 1953) has just been re-elected to preside over the Ateneu Barcelonès for another four years. Former president of the Catalan Film Academy, her greatest success as a producer was the film Black bread, with thirteen Gaudí Awards, nine Goyas, and an Oscar nomination. Involved in multiple cultural projects, I'm trying to take this conversation with Isona Passola into more personal territory. Her father, the Catalan businessman Ermengol Passola; her husband, Jordi Teixidor, who died in 2016; her son, Joan, who manages the Texas cinemas; and her name, which is now a brand: Isona.

In recent years, things have happened to you that your father, Ermengol Passola, an anti-Franco activist and driving force behind the Nova Cançó (New Song), couldn't see: you were awarded the Creu de Sant Jordi (Crew of Sant Jordi) and you presided first over the Acadèmia del Cinema Català and then the Ateneu Barcelonès (Barcelona Film Academy). Which of these things would you have been most excited to see?

— The Creu de Sant Jordi was very important to him, because he had it at the very beginning. But I think my father, who was a man of action, would have liked to have seen the success of Black bread Or my documentaries about Catalonia and Spain. He was more interested in national issues than honors. In this, we're pretty much the same: we get straight to the point, you know what I mean?

When was the last time you thought you were doing what your father did 60 years ago?

— My mother used to tell me this, but it comes very naturally to me. At home, since I was little, we followed the entire Nova Cançó movement: the first recital, the matinees at Romea, we knew every album that came out by heart. He, for example, used to say that every recital should be a rally. And when I was torn between literature, theater, or film, I chose film and audiovisual media because it was the last part of Catalan culture that had yet to be normalized.

Have you ever asked your parents why your name is Isona?

— This is very nice. Grandma's name was Lluïsa, they were eight siblings and they all named their girls Lluïsa. My father was very funny, he named everything; he called the family car he had the cucumber [cucumber]. Well, I don't know who called me Lluïsona, and he left it at Isona. I mean, I'm the first Isona, and he invented the name. It didn't exist.

But, and forgive me for asking you this,what does it say on your ID??

— María Luisa. And at the faculty I had a student who later became a screenwriter in Ventdelplà, and named one of the girl protagonists of the series Isona. From then on, I've encountered Isones everywhere, which I find really funny. To the point that whenever I meet one, I take a picture with her.

Your father was awarded the Creu de Sant Jordi; you were awarded the Creu de Sant Jordi. When was the last time you pressured your son to continue this family tradition?

— My son has also experienced this very naturally. Now he runs the Texas cinemas, for example. He had studied political science, but he was already beginning to see that politics wasn't as attractive as it seemed, and when they came to ask me to save the Texas, he was the one who drew up the business plan and told me, "I'll do it myself." The Texas is the only cinema, for now, that shows all its films in Catalan or with Catalan subtitles. I say for now because, if all goes well, we will establish a network of Catalan-language cinemas throughout the country.

Where do you get your strength, Isona?

— I guess the character, the energy… For me it's natural.

Has it never failed you?

— Sometimes, yes. When someone very close to me has disappeared.

Your husband. What memories do you have of his final days?

— Being with someone in death is precious. It's precious, especially if the person at your side is sensitive and intelligent. My husband was a psychiatrist and neurologist. He passed away peacefully, there. Precisely because it was so intense, the emptiness afterward was so much greater. We were stunned, my son and I. And that's despite the fact that we already knew it and had lived it step by step.

Does it help if the path has been smooth, if you have done some grieving before the death?

— Yes, it helps. My father died very rebellious, and Jordi died very peacefully. It helps a lot to see that someone has already fulfilled their duty, that they know where they're going, and that they're going at peace. Even if they don't play because they died at 62 and with a very young son. My father, on the other hand, died rebellious. He was passionate. He didn't want to die! I remember he was probably 80 years old, and I ran into him with Paco Candel, dragging a trunk full of papers: "We're going to the April Fair to hand out papers." "But, Dad, you're 80 years old!"

Your son will tell you in no time.

— He already tells me. He scolds me for doing too many things, but he knows it's useless to tell me.

When was the last time you thought, "I'm going to retire"?

— Well, I've never thought about it. In fact, it seems inconceivable to me. It'll be when I fall flat on my face. Or when I see myself losing my faculties and starting to do strange things. Now I'm losing my memory, but we have Google, we have people around us. I haven't thought about retirement. And then I realized something: those of my generation who are active seem much younger. And more handsome. The inactive ones don't seem as happy.

If you had to make a wish for this last long stretch of life, what would it be?

— Man, I'd really like to see this country more tidy, more finished. It's about time it's due. We've explained it anyway. This is the great wish, this is the great request.

What does a more tidy, more finished country mean?

— This state is plurinational. To the nations of the State – those that are more nations, because here a coffee for everyone which makes no sense—we have to let them do what they want, what they decide. What is certain is that this will not work. There are still two Spains. The only way to overthrow dark Spain, which is very dark, is through an alliance between the socialists and the Spanish left with the periphery.

But this is the current situation.

— Good, but well done. Without absurd quarrels, because it's unbelievable how Cainite we are here. Right now I'm in a deeply anti-Cainite phase. Every time I see one person insulting another... And that happens to a lot of people. We have a serious situation to resolve, please. That need to annoy the other... Don't tell me you're Catalanists, nationalists, or separatists. If you do this, you haven't understood anything.

If you were asked to perform one last service in Catalonia and told that you had to run for president of the Generalitat...?

— Oh, no, please. Being president of the Ateneu has been tough... You have to have that kind of thick skin, because there's a lot of bad blood.

But you have thick skin.

— Look, it's never crossed my mind to be president of the Generalitat. I'm willing to do anything if I can be useful, but I assure you that whoever runs for president has to have a lot of physical and mental strength. And if she's a woman, she should prepare herself. If she's a woman, she should prepare herself to succeed, because she's going to succeed even more.

This hasn't happened yet in the Generalitat. You're the first female president of the Ateneu. When was the last time you felt discriminated against for being a woman?

— I'd never heard what I've heard here at the Ateneu. In the film world, hierarchies are highly respected. When I was in college, there was also a very egalitarian situation. And suddenly you arrive at the Ateneu, where men have been in charge for 160 years, and they tell you: "Girl, the toilets have been dirty since you've been here." Or "Close the door!" You can tell from their eyes. "What does she think she is?" It's a small sector, because in recent years, 400 young people under 28 have entered.

Let's imagine that on your last day as president, you could gather the Ateneu's historic figures for a dinner. Who would be at this table?

— Man, Maragall, Pompeu Fabra, Valentí Almirall—I would have loved to meet him—Oriol Bohigas... This house has had illustrious presidents. Àngel Guimerà had a project. He set out to bring the Catalan language back into public spaces and gave the first speech in Catalan at the Ateneu.

And you, who are the latest president of the Ateneu, what is your project?

— I think if we won, it's because we have a project. I'm very used to choosing teams to ensure films turn out well and, if necessary, to go to Hollywood and in Catalan. I've chosen a board that has set out to address the most pressing issue in Catalonia right now. It's the issue of language, how its use is declining, and immigration. Athenaeums have always played a literacy role, as a place where the social elevator works through culture. In Catalonia, there are 208 federated athenaeums. They are very inclusive places. In towns where there are soccer teams or tower groupsPeople mingle. How can we do that at the Ateneu? We created the Catalan Club. As soon as it opened, 150 people signed up, all foreigners, many of them expatsNow, for Sant Jordi, it will be wonderful, because the Catalan Club is teaching diction so that Ukrainians, Cubans, and Russians can read poems in Catalan. The cultural centers can connect. Catalonia has the most powerful civil society in Europe, and no one will dispute that. We have two million members, one million in cultural entities. If the great challenge is not to create ghettos, it's to create links so that people who enter find places of welcome. Don't you think this entire network of associations has great potential to make this not a problem? To make it a reality in favor of diversity, language, and national cohesion. Cohesion isn't bad if it's carried out freely.

What is your last dream right now?

— It's closely linked to this project of the Catalan Club, which we want to extend to the other cultural centers in Catalonia. We hope this project will be useful and help create this new country that's more mixed, more diverse, while preserving an ancient language and culture. Diversity is the greatest wealth to which human beings can aspire. Seeing that others are different and, instead of hating them, enriching themselves.

And the last concern?

— Maybe I don't have a concern? I'm not that calm, eh, I'm more of a torturer than I look. One concern is that this might not turn out well, damn it.

It's not worth saying the same thing.

— Well, then, let the Generalitat not resolve the network of Catalan-language cinemas in Catalonia. I can't resolve this; they must resolve it. Let them get on with it.

Have you ever thought that you've lived too long for others and too little for yourself?

— I've lived a lot for myself, too. I've had a great time. Look, a book by Vicenç Altaió has just come out, which talks a lot about our youth, which has reminded me of many things. We've passionately experienced everything that has happened to us: anti-Francoism, culture... I find it more satisfying—and I know it's selfish—to work for the community than for myself.

The last two questions are the same for everyone. A song you've been listening to lately.

— I've really invested in rappers. Aside from the fact that I really enjoy their creativity and improvisation, they're the great normalizers. I'm very aware of what they're doing. I listen to them to see what they're saying. There's Llonch, this guy from Sabadell, who I really like. They're a social thermometer. But, really, what I like is Paolo Conte. The Italians, more than the French.

The last words of the interview are yours.

— Forward with the axes. That doesn't mean the axes.