Will we be able to see the mayor of Barcelona, Jaume Collboni, the deputy Gabriel Rufián or the former mayor Ada Colau spending the night in a nine-square-meter house equipped with a kitchenette and a microwave but without a bathroom or running water? This has been the surprising announcement of an exhibition, "sponsored by Ikea", at La Capella in Barcelona, where, according to the photographer and artist Joan Fontcuberta, public figures, even Maricarmen Abascal, would be invited to spend the night. But you certainly won't see it, because it is all a lie. This Monday, during the press conference for the presentation of the eighth edition of the Festival Clàssics –dedicated this year to the lie–, Fontcuberta, the conceptual patron of the event, played at setting traps for the journalists, from the very first minute, to demonstrate the fragility of truth. The lie made sense, then, within the theoretical framework of the festival.

Perhaps because "everyone lies at one time or another" –as Jean-Luc Nancy states in La vérité du mensonge (Bayard, 2021)–, truth is in a permanent crisis. This crisis has been aggravated over the last decades by the end of the single narrative advocated by postmodernity, the multiplication of the capacity for impact and the transmission of lies through social media, which have become one of the great trending topics of our present, and the worrying expansion of falsehoods that artificial intelligence can transmit.

Elisabet Casanovas (Sabadell, 1994) arrives at the Teatre Lliure with her cello slung over her shoulder because tonight she has a performance of Little womenIn the mornings, it's rehearsal time. The theater has given him the perfect excuse to delve into the Newspapers by Anaïs Nin (1903-1977). "I was immediately captivated by her use of language and her profound commitment to her work, which is her diary, her life story. She lays herself bare, but through literature," she explains. The shamelessness of her diaries—which span four decades—her forays into erotic literature, and an unconventional love life have shaped the reception of the writer, one of the great literary influences of the 20th century. "I think that all the labels we unintentionally apply to her confine her. Anaïs says: 'I am amoral.' One could speak of polyamory, but also of an unquenchable thirst. I have the feeling that she is searching for something and finds in art a great balm to fill a void," she explains.

Carlota Gurt (Barcelona, ​​​​1976) has carved out a prolific career as a writer – with titles such as We'll ride all night (Proa, 2020) and Sole (Proa, 2021)–, translator and columnist. Now she is setting foot in uncharted territory for the first time: the theater. Drawing on her experiences and extensive research into classical texts, Gurt has crafted the monologue A failed annihilation, in which she unfolds her discoveries and reflections on female desire and libido throughout history. She does so with humor and forcefulness, highlighting the influence of the male gaze on women and the impact it still has today. The monologue can be seen on October 23 at El Siglo Mercantic as part of the National Poetry Festival in Sant Cugat, on November 7 at La Planeta in Girona as part of the Temporada Alta festival, and on November 26 at the CCCB as part of the Clásicos Festival. The text will be published in mid-November by Ara Llibres.

The 7th edition of the Clàssics Festival will focus on desire. It does so with an image of genitals from classical statues created by artist Toni Amengual. "They are mutilated penises because it's a critique of phallocentric culture and the focus on a single part of the body. At the same time, it's a way of bringing desire into our day, because lately there are men who express that their desire is constantly being questioned. Is it right that we always allow desire?" reflects Sira. "We've wanted to address desire for a long time, because it's what moves us every morning, and the energy that allows us to create. If a person is devoid of desire, they probably have depression. Lately, many questions have arisen, and that invites us to return to our roots," says Abenoza.