Ramon Madaula says that being a father is like playing seven and a half: you either go over or you go short. He most likely says this after many lost games (and just as many won), and that's why he wrote the play Loop, which is currently being performed at Espai Texas in Barcelona.
Loop It has several virtues: it is concise and direct, and the text is agile and written with touches of humor and tenderness. The performances of Madaula himself and the young Julia Genís are effective and serve this dialogue between father and daughter—who at times seamlessly become son and mother—which gradually builds and relaxes almost imperceptibly to the viewer. But Loop It has yet another virtue, the most important: practically no viewer can help but feel involved or identified at some point. We have all been sons or daughters, and most of us are fathers or mothers, or will eventually be. We all live immersed in what—as Madaula reminds us—the great Pau Riba called the struggle of loving.
A few days ago, Espacio Texas invited me to see Loop and then have a conversation with the author of the work about this great literary theme that is and will be the relationship between parents and children, this loop An eternal thread that links one generation to another without ever inventing anything, barely modifying it according to the context we live in.
After the play and the conversation with Madaula and her audience, I began to ponder the problem we had framed: when you become a parent, with experience, you realize that perhaps your parents were right about many things (but you're no longer in a position to say so), yet you can't avoid making similar mistakes with your own children. It's probably a curse of being human.
To what extent should we help our children without overprotecting them? What level of intervention should we have in their lives once they reach adulthood? How did our parents influence our lives? Do we want to influence our children's lives or not? Do we always believe we'll do it better? Are we really that naive?
I grew up missing an idealized father who died too young and trying to distance myself from a model of motherhood that smothered me during adolescence. Now that my children are older, I realize that my mother was also right about many things, and I find myself reclaiming attitudes that even I can't always maintain. I'm sure that every viewer of Loop You'll have personal reflections after leaving the theater.
My recommendation is that you go see it—at Espacio Texas or when it tours the country—and then take some time to remember what kind of son/daughter you were and what kind of father/mother you are or want to be. It's also very likely that this theatrical production, directed by Mònica Bofill, will prompt you to have a conversation with those above and/or below, alternating—as they do in the play—the role of father/mother with that of son/daughter.
Why do we play seven and a half if we know there's such a high probability of going over or coming up short? Well, for the thrill of the game and because, when you get seven and a half, when you hit the target, what a joy!
