An inevitable reminder of a rather significant performance in the history of the Teatre Lliure and a proposal for the future with a young company. The Night of the Tribades (that is, lesbians) premiered in 1978 under the direction of Fabià Puigserver and with Anna Lizaran, Quim Lecina, Domènec Reixach and Muntsa Alcañiz, who attended the premiere of the new proposal at the romantic Teatre de Sarrià and who at the end of the performance received a flower from the director, Oriol Broggi

Heimpossible It is the word Tiago Rodrigues uses to designate the indefinable but real geographical space into which humanitarian workers venture. A space opposed to possible...which is where they come from and where they return at the end of each mission, and is the space where we inhabitants of the First World live.

Joel Juan was crying. He was crying as he said hello. Tears brought on, we don't know, by Sonia's final monologue about boundless resilience and faith in the afterlife, or by the emotional release he felt after an hour and a half journey with the eight characters of Uncle Vanya by Chekhov.

Argos was the name of Ulysses' dog. Only he recognized him when he returned home disguised as a vagrant after twenty years of warlike odysseys. Vera (a superb Ariella Reggio) is an elderly woman with Alzheimer's who fled Pula (Istria) after World War II. And York is the name of the dog she had as a child. A dog that, like Argos, is a symbol of home and the land to which she now returns on a road trip organized by her friend Beatrice (Maria Ariis) to discover something seemingly as simple as her mother's birthdate. The mother, the daughter, and the squeaky-clean Clara (Lucia Limonta) embark on a journey that confronts them with the past and memory, with the silence that always surrounds exile. Three generations, three lives, three personalities, and many miles traveled in a beat-up car to process the past and the present, to shed light on the unknown.

The future of our children is one of humanity's greatest current concerns in a world dominated by uncertainty and where all sustainability initiatives are being stripped away. On January 1, 2023, the European Union designated nuclear energy as green energy. In early February 2026, Donald Trump eliminated limitations on greenhouse gases, and the agreement between Russia and the United States on the proliferation of nuclear weapons expired without renewal. The environment is in dire straits, and the irresponsibility of those making these decisions will clearly affect the children of all humanity, as the renowned British playwright Lucy Kirkwood tells us in her play. The children (The children), a play that premiered at London's Royal Court Theatre in 2017, now presented in a magnificent translation by Cristina Genebat and featuring memorable performances by Mercè Aránega, Emma Vilarasau, and Jordi Boixaderas.

A distant song It's one of those productions where all the elements conspire to create a splendid result. A gem in the small, intimate space of Dau al Sec, proving that no grand gestures are needed to move an audience. It is, indeed, a monologue. A monologue accentuated by the humanistic text of British playwright Simon Stephens, by the brief and delicate jazzy phrases of Mark Eitzel—known as the leader of the band American Music Club—by the demanding direction of Oscar Fabrés, and, of course, by the moving performance of Eduardo Lanoras, by the entirety of Eduardo Lloveras, enveloped in lighting with warm textures (Sergio García).

Carai con The PiratesReduce the trilogy! The village Adapting Carlo Goldoni's great work into a 90-minute play while preserving all the energy, humor, and critique of the original must be no easy feat. And staging it with only four actors is a true acting challenge, which Núria Cuyàs, Ricard Farré, Laura Pau, and Arnau Puig overcome with virtuosity and great comedic flair under the ingenious and vibrant direction of Adrià Aubert.

The ferryman by Jez Butterworth, the author of JerusalemIt is a truly exceptional work and theatrical production for several reasons, including its length (three and a quarter hours, plus two intermissions), the number of performers (nineteen), the awards it has won (including the Laurence Olivier), and the record-breaking ticket sales in the history of London's Royal Court Theatre. In Barcelona, ​​its appeal lies in the excellent casting of the Lliure production, the outstanding performances of an intergenerational cast, a staging that captures the best of Julio Manrique, and the prominence of an absent character. But above all, it stems from the resonance it evokes in any community, like ours.

There are works that approach horror with a Brechtian-rooted distancing that, without influencing emotional empathy, strike deep inside and reveal the most terrible aspects of the human condition. How I learned to drive She is one of them.

Mary Magdalene was not a sinful prostitute, but one of the apostles and a companion of Jesus Christ. She stood at the foot of the cross and delivered the good news of the resurrected Christ. Furthermore, she is the central figure in a theatrical production that reclaims the true role of women in history in a show where the captivating audiovisual component largely compensates for the shortcomings of the text and the dramaturgy.

Dirty (2023) has been the major success of the young actress, playwright, and director Bárbara Mestanza. A project born from a traumatic personal experience that became a play, a documentary, and a book. "Sucia" (Dirty) was the catharsis, the angry yet defiant cry of a woman who was abused by a masseur without knowing how to react. In her new work, "Cortarse un pie con una motosierra" (Cutting a Foot with a Chainsaw), Mestanza returns to the theme of sexual abuse against women, focusing not so much on the female victims, though that is also present, but on the so-called cancel culture that socially and personally ostracizes aggressors, whether they are guilty or victims of a pariah.

Valentina It's a fantastic story, and also a fantastical tale brimming with empathy, emotion, and the talent of French director Caroline Guilea Nguyen, whose equally fantastic film we saw six years ago. SaigonA grand, epic, and choral tale about connections and territories through the lives of a group of Vietnamese immigrants.

It is not surprising that what in 2022 was the first film written and directed by Francesc Cuéllar, Jusqu'ici tout va, may have ended up on a theater stage. Because there is a lot of theater, good theater, in this daring cinematic debut. "It seems more like theater than film to me," said, among others, someone named #Promont in the reviews of the film on Filmin, where it can still be seen.

He passed away on November 26, 2021, at the age of 91. Stephen SondheimAnd hours later, a large group of theater people, friends, and the public gathered in Central Park and sang. Sunday in the park with GeorgeThe piece was performed by six voices in the final part of a heartwarming and playful evening honoring the great American composer at La Fàbrica theater in Barcelona. Mario Gas skillfully conducted a recital featuring songs from three of the works he himself has conducted, with some additions like the one mentioned above, but omitting perhaps better-known pieces in favor of a broad and committed perspective that, with minimal effort, portrays the feelings and experiences of a multitude of characters.In a little night music either Sweeney Todd And, of course, the old actors and actresses gathered in FolliasAs Sondheim's guide, Gas introduces the context of each song in a journey from the supposed romanticism in the tempo of waltzesIn a little night music going through the gore of Sweeney Todd (which Antonio Banderas is announcing a production he will star in) until it culminates in the endearing hall musician of Follias (which was only seen at the Peralada Festival after selling out in Madrid) that occupies a good part of the show. With Sweeney ToddGas allows himself a joke, pointing out the wickedness of Judge Turpin, which the audience, aware of the mess created by the Spanish Supreme Court, laughs heartily at.

A little over thirty years have passed since the powerful, caustic and tense proposal that Ariel Garcia Valdès directed of The crown of thorns at the Romea Theatre on December 22, 1994. Many years for a work that, without being one of Josep Maria de Sagarra's best known, is undoubtedly one of his most profound and tragic, and which confirms the linguistic, poetic and dramatic quality of this dramatic poem written in 1930 and which now, in the TNC's standing audience.

The fight for accessible transportation and public buildings for people with disabilities has been constant. So has the fight to improve their lives. While we can walk normally, we don't appreciate the advantages of unrestricted mobility, but when, due to an accident, our body is confined to a wheelchair, we face life differently. And, it must be said, it's not easy. That's what happened to Amanda's mother while she was cleaning. The daughter is heading to an independent living office to find out how to apply for dependency benefits. There she meets Benito, a man in a wheelchair, a volunteer with the organization who helps those affected.

Twenty-first-century theater assumes that the classics must be betrayed to bring them closer to the modern world. A betrayal of traditional forms that, while preserving the plot and characters, revolutionizes the way stories are told. Hamlet from the Berlin Schaubühne directed by Thomas Ostermeier It is a paradigmatic example. Since its premiere in 2008, it has become an iconic proposal celebrated all over the world, which passed like lightning in December of that year through the Teatre Lliure and has now inaugurated the Temporada Alta festival at the Teatre Municipal de Girona.

The fall of the Berlin Wall opened the gates of heaven to the citizens of so-called Eastern Europe. The defeat of communism promised a new life in democracy that would guarantee the rights restricted by the ferocious socialist dictatorships. They were deluded, because storm clouds quickly covered those skies and joy turned to resignation. This is what the photographer, suffering from fibromyalgia, says, who survives with her husband in a city in one of those countries and who won a prestigious award precisely for her photographs of the fall of the iconic German wall. They came out of the fire and into the embers. The embers of capitalism. The Europe of illusion turned into the Europe of frustration in metaphor. fog from the work of Lluïsa Cunillé winner of the Frederic Roda 2014 prize.

The anguish, fear, and death that inhabit Mercè Rodoreda's novel hovered over the audience of the National Theater of Catalonia at the season opening. The anguish, fear, and atavistic death of the village of pink houses imagined by Rodoreda and the anguish, fear, and death of the thousands of Palestinians murdered by the Israeli government.

Ramon Madaula writes comedies about what he sees – and he is a great observer – and what surrounds him. In his works there is always something of himself and, in the case ofThe bonds, from his own history. If to the above, Loop (which was seen at the Flyhard Room last season and will be revived in Texas), touched on the sentimental confrontation between an artist father – a sculptor – and a daughter who had flown out of the nest, in The bonds looks back on his childhood. As a child, Madaula from Sabadell frequented the La Farándula theater in Sabadell to see Folch and Torres' Pastorets, and his sympathies ran more toward the good Satan than the not-so-good Archangel Gabriel. From those memories comes a comedy that is also a sincere tribute to amateur theater and will surely become one of the season's greatest achievements.