21 Sep

It is not a story, it is not a work. They are pieces of texts, brief monologues, thoughts, brutal snapshots of the human condition, beginnings of something, fragments. Chronicles that could be banal, we hear them in the street, in the people's complaint. They happen behind the wall at your neighbor's house. We see them on the sidewalks without giving them importance, and although they were relevant, they are so fleeting that they do not make history. And those who manage to do it, those who manage to be reflected in some medium, go into oblivion in a few hours. Others are only important for those who live them, and for no one else.

It is a material to build confrontations, to give voice to unnamed characters. For them to speak, to explode against the walls, without flowers, without makeup.

During the day, live encounters and disagreements. They fight, they debate, they wander in search of something, perhaps of themselves. During the night, intimacy, their desires, soliloquize their creeds, their justifications and their dreams.

Chronicles that resonate like a déjà vu, none leaves us indifferent. Stories of love, and heartbreak, of money, of violence; in short, things of everyday life that are concentrated here. From the hidden smile, to the violence of whole days, of whole nights.

Contemporary theater for adult audiences.

Creation and direction: Blanca del Barrio