In a corner of a country of confused memory, there lives a woman confined in her memories. While she awaits the arrival of a baby she could never say goodbye to, she eternally relives some of the most dramatic episodes of her life, accompanied by some of her fears, which over the years, she has turned into members of his imaginary family.

Eleven sisters kidnapped in a never-ending mental grief: dictatorship, slavery, deaths, funerals, Scandinavian invasions and other biblical plagues. Only one creature, Bruna, has the key to demolish this mental space, but, while she does not arrive from her forced exile, her Mother reimagines her life to the rhythm of Balkan fanfares. Nothing works in his head since that abandonment. A personal exercise in spontaneous writing about how powerfully absurd the mind can be and how tragicomic life can be, based on the decisions a mother reluctantly had to make on the day the author was born.

Déjà-Vu is a gift that the actresses, my assistants and a server gave to each other.

It is not usual to write a show about clowns, comedians or eccentrics. Yes, it is writing numbers, entries, gags, scenes. Traditionally, clowns have been part of circus or variety shows, where the narrative thread is not usually important, but the characters and possible entrances are.

Less common are clown shows. It is true that there are some, and very good ones, but it is difficult to find a show with a troupe of female clowns, made up, ready to make people laugh, making themselves ridiculous. Luckily, humor has less and less gender boundaries, and it's easier to bet on women and clowns.

Imagine Fellini's Circus of Clowns, planted in a square. We see him from the messy attic of a house where the daughters live in La casa de Bernarda Alba, by Federico García Lorca. The eleven waste their lives in seclusion, while time cracks the multiple layers of make-up that remind poor Baby Jane of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?. One day, however, they receive a gift: a baby.

After searching for the maternal instinct in the midst of so much Diogenes syndrome, these disturbed eleven and their maid invent a fantasy: a new family for the child, as in Trois hommes et un couchin. A little girl who is a key character, absent and invisible, and who will grow up around this family like Truman from The Truman Show did.

The eleven mothers, or fathers, or aunts, or whatever they are, slaves to the creature, like The Maids of Jean Genet, play, and create a fantastic little microcosm, full of deception and self-deception, with unconventional rules, such as does Yorgos Lanthimos's Canino family, which portends an outcome as harsh as life itself.

A decadent universe of blood and honey, to the sound of trumpets and Balkan music, with ridiculous, absurd characters, and at the same time, dark and full of pain, who will make us laugh at the unfortunate, as Emir Kusturika's did in Underground . Because seeing other people's pain eases our own pain.

All together, to pay tribute to all those mothers, who at some point in their lives, consciously or unconsciously, lose their child.

Martí Torras Mayneris

From 11/05/23 to 14/05/23

Thursday and Friday at 20 p.m.
Saturday at 17pm and 20pm
Sunday at 18h

Dramaturgy and direction: Martí Torras Mayneris
Interpretation: Georgina AragallMonica BalsellsAlmudena CajalRuth CardonaJulia CostaCarla GriñoHelena MartinezIrene WallsJudit RevertLydia Robla i Lu Sánchez

Management Assistant: Mario Rebugent i Julia Masnou
Voice overs: Queralt Casasayas i Dusan Tomic
Movement: Teresa Garcia-Valenzuela
Scenography: Llorens Corbella Burgués
Lighting: Andrés Piza
Changing room: Anna Sabina i The Marushkas

Acknowledgments: Queralt CasasayasDusan TomicSadurní VergésMontse MirallesAgnes BusquetsIrene JodarJulia FanecaIsabel MichaelMartí Torras OlivaVicenta Mayneris Riera i Fátima Campos