The waiting room
Nothing is more desperate than a room that has anguish printed on its wood, deceiving with its innocent golden plaque. It is in that space where waiting becomes the answer to so many unanswered questions. Immobility takes over us, as if inertia were little more than a supermarket belt. In the midst of this lethargy, the protagonists of ‘Hi haurà un setembre per tothom’ (at the Teatre Gaudí until June 2) see life pass more slowly than usual. Somewhere in your subconscious, you haven’t grown, you haven’t got wrinkles, you haven’t suffered or faced the challenges of life. They are still those two innocents who fell in love at the bar, to the rhythm of Maniac and vodka. Because utopias are always best enjoyed with a tall glass in hand.
Marcel is Irene
Marcel (Xavi Mercadé) and Irene (Núria Florensa) find themselves in the waiting room of a child psychiatrist to face their son’s Asperger’s diagnosis. They are no longer together, they separated a long time ago, and we do not know the reasons. This is the premise of the work: a room with chairs whose only function is to wait. Every minute, the narrative travels to the chronological past to reveal new information and then returns to the present, providing deeper understanding. The time jumps intertwine like a braid, and the viewer is immersed in a crowded nightclub, a museum with hanging paintings, or a car full of children’s toys. The trust and maturity that the work places in the viewer is appreciated. The two main characters carry the weight of the story, as their pain and the way they deal with their suffering drive the plot. This makes us reflect on something that new generations will believe is outdated: there cannot be a healthy relationship without good communication.
The unsaid words
The unsaid words permeate the room and make it, at times, gray, although the humor sprinkled in the audience raises the corners of the spectators. Directed by Laura Porta and Ricard Martí, with dramaturgy by Frank Bayer, ‘Hi haurà un setembre per tothom’ portrays a sadly failed relationship and shows that loving each other a lot is not the same as loving each other well. It is also the manifestation of trauma and the chronification of silence, which can be lethal if it is not functional for the individual. The divergence between the management of the characters and the burden of care, empathy and responsibility that falls on the female figure is striking. At some point, the cycle of reproaches and regrets, even if it has already been dissected, can become excessive. However, fiction captivates because it questions and points out many facets of family relationships, and we all identify as girlfriends, parents, brothers, sisters-in-law and daughters.
Small format theater
It must not be easy to carry out a low-budget work, in a small space and without great ornamentation, betting everything on two people and one destiny. The work multiplies when the public’s reception is more complicated, and the applause resonates more strongly, valuing the effort and enthusiasm with an additional echo. The experience of witnessing theater in a reduced format allows for authentic immersion; you can almost feel the drops of sweat produced by the spotlights. Sometimes it makes you want to get up from your chair and shout that they don’t give up, that they are understood, that we have also suffered and we have doubts when we argue with our partner or we don’t know how to overcome life’s challenges. This September shows that traumas burn more at the end of summer, exposed to the hot sun, but that the affection is always greater when there are more possibilities to touch ourselves with the tips of our fingers.
