 to the Mark Lee Siegel Center here, the Gwadar Center CUNY, my name is Frank Henshgren, the director of the Siegel-Siegel Center and next to me is Valeria O'Rami from Humanism. And we put this thing together. It's the second time that we are trying to implement, think about and create an exchange of Italian playwrights coming here to New York. Again, we have an advisory board, people have mentioned in here, who really helped us to select what we think relevant and urgent plays that come from Italy voices from Europe and I think we all know how important it is that we hear voices from all around the world and also from Italy, where perhaps over the last decades the voices weren't heard as strongly or there wasn't an initiative or there wasn't a Valeria there who could also help it. And New York advisory board chose a place that was suggested by the Italian advisory board. I think Marvin Koss is here who was on the advisory board. Kate from the play company wasn't here, but Melissa is here tonight and also others. So a lot of work went into the Italian playwrights project. We at the Siegel Center on Bridge, academia and professional theater, international and American theater. And I think this really is one of the great evenings when we put together an evening with playwrights. We also published the plays from the very first playwright exchange and we have the books out. You can buy them up to this number. They are $30 tonight. They are just $15. Also, we would like to say the Italian Cultural Institute, which is with us tonight for supporting this, I think, really important publication. It is actually these winners from big prizes in Italy. It's the only book where you can find plays in translation in English of significant, the Tony Kushner's of Italy, by the way, the only way someone can read them in English translation is in the Siegel Center publication in a way we are very proud of it, but we're also stunned that this is the case. So thank you to Giorgio Panstrat and Harvey for helping to put this all together. With us we have tonight one of the playwrights in person. We also want to have at least one playwright here. So Elisa Casseri is here. Where's Elisa? So Casseri is a very significant Italian writer and essayist and novelist. And this is her first play, Mario. Here's a seat for you. This is Mario Franti, a great American Italian writer. So welcome. So the playwrights on the project are Elisa, as we just said, Giuliana Musso, Armando Pirazzi, and Fabrizio Signisi. And so Elisa is the one who could be with us. So we will have readings of short excerpts from those plays. Four of them, 15 minutes, they will be in a row. Then we have a panel discussion here. I think Giuliana will join us shortly on Skype. And then we also have a Q&A with all of you here. The plays are directed by professional directors, read by professional actors here in New York, Mark Sara. And John directed the plays, all the bios around here. Irene is here for John, who couldn't make it. But he's very grateful that he took the time to do this. So I hope you will all enjoy it. And there will be a little reception afterwards here in the room. And I hope you all can stay. If you couldn't ask all your questions, just share a glass of wine with the artist. And afterwards, if you still want to do this, a little gathering of the archived bar around the corner on this 36th Street. And it's also in the book here is called The Archive between Pips and Mans and the South Side in the middle. Before I give the microphone to Valery also, take out your iPhone or your phone for one second and try to put it on silent over here. It should say, ring or silent? It never rings in our readings. And truly, it still misses out, because we take time. So please do double check. Again, thank you all for coming. It's a very, very busy time in New York, especially in December. And it was a big, always a risk to do the bar. We really appreciate it. We need good theater, but we need good audience. So really thank you all for your interest in time to come here tonight and listen to voices and realities from another continent, Valeria. I have nothing to add, because Frank told everything. And thank you very much to everybody to follow our project. It's a very challenging project. And we will have a time to talk later. Enjoy the readings now. Thank you. So now I am going to introduce one of the directors, Sara, who is the director. Two pieces of people here, short synopsis of each play. So we have a little bit of contact. Again, thank you so much. Thank you, Frank. Thank you guys very much for all being here tonight. I had the pleasure of working very shortly on a notebook for winter by Armando Pierosi. And I'm just going to read a little of the synopsis. So you have a little context for the scenes you're about to see. It is a two-actor play, which in three acts tells the story of an introvert professor of literature who finds a burglar on his way back home. The knife-wielding burglar wants something unexpected from him. It is a question of life or death. During the entire night, the two characters talk, exchange ideas, feelings, ask painful questions out of hope and desperation in a completely new and unexpected atmosphere. And without further ado, Fettie Kerco and Michael John and Prota. Don't be afraid. I have nothing. I know. OK, I'll give you what's in my pocket, but there's nothing in the house. What's easy within that? I have no intention of hurting you. Then lower the knife, please. Put the bag on the floor. Easy. They're oranges. I don't think they'll interest you. Do you have any interest in orange? Do you want them? What do you want? Don't try. Don't freak out. I have no intention of freaking out. My god. Oh, all the oranges on the floor. I have every intention of keeping calm, please. Lower the knife. Oranges. Oh my god. Listen, I'll give you what's in my pocket. Just give me time to pull out my wallet. I don't have much, though, so don't go crazy on me. I don't want money. There's nothing in the house. No money, no nothing. I don't even own a computer. They stole it from me last week on campus. What a time to be alive. Damn it. Take it easy. I had it come in. I had it come in to find someone that would kill me in my own house. You're a professor of Bologna, right? Yes. You teach literature at the Central University? Literature, yes. That's me. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to? Nino. Well, Nino, please lower the knife. Oh, yes, of course. Thanks. Thank you, Nino. My nerve's up. OK, then it's all set up. You're not going to kill me, too. I had no intention of killing you. OK, please tell me we're OK. I told you already. Say that you're OK. Say I'm OK. If you insist. Yes, Nino, I insist. OK? OK. OK. Great, great. Great. So Nino, you said you don't want money. Well, you agreed you're not going to kill me. I told you I don't even have a computer. I don't see what else there is to say, right? I think our meeting, strange as it is, could terminate here, don't you think? I'll help you pick up the orange. You don't have to bother. I can do it on my own. I'd be really happy to pick up my own oranges without your presence. I feel so incredibly at ease without your presence, Nino. I'm not going to do anything. I'll forget your face. I'll forget anything that's happened tonight. It'll all be nothing more than a bad dream. One of these typical bad dreams that I have to remember the second in my life. Please, Nino, leave me alone so I can sign when we pick up my oranges. Professor, I didn't come here for nothing. I'm not here to take something. I'm here to bring something back to you. What? To bring you back something and to ask a favor, a big favor. What are you talking about? What did you bring me? What favor? I brought you this. Oh, it's a little notebook. Is it mine? Yes, it was in the computer's bag. Oh, yes. So you have my computer. Is that why you're here? To sell me back my computer? I need it, my computer. Damn it, how much do you want? You have to give it back, really. It's important to me how much. I am sorry, but there's nothing I can do about the computer. What do you mean? It's gone. It's not in my hands anymore. These things move very quickly. Who knows where it ended up, even just half an hour after I took it? These things fly. What do you mean, Nino? I wanted to give you back your little notebook. Great. It's done. Thank you. And now? There are incredible poems in your notebook. Did you write them? What? Did you write them, the poems? Oh, these, yeah. Yeah, I wrote them. They're really pretty. I don't know, thank you. But you can't say this to me? Yes, I wrote them in my own hand. Do you have others? You're still talking about my poems? Yes, of course. What are we talking about? Poems, of course. You have others. Nino, I'm flattered, my writing intrigues you. I'm honored. So don't think that I laughed because I'm not honored, but you see, I find this a little ridiculous. No, not like you're ridiculous or that your feelings are, don't get it wrong, but it's just, you know, attention, the scare of just a minute ago. I'm just not ready to hear certain things to talk about these stupid poems. I don't think they're stupid. They're really beautiful. Yes, of course, of course. Do you have others? No, Nino. I had every intention of writing a beautiful book of poems. Maybe one day, but I don't have any other poems in the house. Actually, I only wrote what you read. I'm not gonna lie, this passionate request of yours puts me in the mood to write again. You don't have them? Poems? No, I've only written these. You only wrote seven poems. Poems, sorry, I'm not very prolific. Moreover, these are poems I wrote two years ago. I'm not sure why they're thrown away. You don't throw away poems. Nino, I'm not a poet. Sorry to disappoint you. I am a professor of literature, so I'm gonna think of two, of course. Two years ago, I spent a tremendous summer with a person like a teenager I started writing poems. I've never done it before. Don't think I'll ever do it again. Why? Because it's useless. It's useful just to remind you that there are people that ask you your life, do whatever they want with it, and then they go. No, I'm not gonna write a single word anymore. Not me. It's more than enough to suffer from reading and studying all these stupid words that everyone else wrote. Words for who knows who, and who knows how they were treated by these people who seemed so irreplaceable. That's why, Nino, we can't sit. And for me, would you write a poem for me? No, I don't think so. Well, you can't write a poem like that. One shouldn't write poems at all. And certainly not like this when the top of one's head. Professor, I'm asking you to write me a poem. Please. Nino, come on. What's behaved like grown-ups? What kind of absurdity is this? Don't make me raise my knife again. What's the matter with you? I need a poem from you. I need it now. What's the matter with you all of a sudden? We were talking so nicely, Lord. First, you write me a poem. Nino, I don't know how to write poems. But you wrote the ones in the notebook, right? I wrote those, yes, it was a special moment in my life. Those are so beautiful. Nino, there are magnificent poets that I can recommend you some incredible books. It's no use. I need your poems. Oh my God, why? Oh my God, you're shaking. What's wrong with your poem? My wife, Anita, is in a coma at the hospital. It's been three days. She's in a coma. I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. It's a terrible thing. I had your notebook in my pocket the other night. I took it from the computer van. I read the poem. And they seemed nice. I read one to Anita. And she did something. What? A reaction. I'm sure of this. You read your poems and she reacted. I am sure of this. It's really beautiful. Maybe it's your voice. Did you try to read her other thing? Yes, of course. But it did not seem a fact. You have to write other poems. At least another one. Now, tonight, to survive the night. Nino, I don't know what to say. I'm not a poet. But you wrote those poems. Yes, I wrote them. I'm sure that if I read one of your poems to Anita tonight, she'll react. She'll feel better. Maybe she won't wake up, not right away. But maybe with time, if you help me, I'll read her your poems and she'll wake up sooner or later. I wish it was just like that. It is, certainly. Don't you want to help me? How can I? My god, professor, write a poem. Four or five lines, just a few lines like the others. I don't think that I can. Try. Write them up to no. Write something. I can't think of anything. No ideas. One doesn't write something like this from the top of one's head. Please. You know, I know you don't care. It doesn't make sense to say it. But my girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend, married another man yesterday. You see, I had decided for a while that I wouldn't write again, that I wouldn't let this fire, that I would just let this fire cool off. But there's nothing more terrifying than love. It takes over. I have no strength to write anything anymore. I don't care anymore. I understand. Yes. I only asked you to try a little bit. Why? For Anita. You know, this doesn't make sense. Do you realize that? Yes. But you were writing that poem. Right. Please. I'll see what I can do. Thanks. Be quick. Hey. No. Of course. Sorry. Right, though. If I could send my son to college, I'd like him to be in your class. He needs to learn how to write beautiful things. My son, I think of him as hopeless. Of course, I steal. What kind of example am I setting? But school, he needs to go to school. And then to college. I'll send him to you. Yeah. You know, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Yes, of course. I'll write something about love. You would have came. The old ones? So full of love? You must have been crazy in love. Yeah, it seems like it. Anita is a good woman. A wife. Certain women are perfect to be wives. Anita is perfect. For me, at least. Listen, I don't know how it's turning out. I'm not sure if this will work. How long is it? Three lines. Three? Yeah, but it's complete. You sure you can't get it to five or four at least? Maybe, let's see. Thank you. No, I think this is OK. That's the best I can do. I told you, I'm not a poet. You're a great poet. Thank you so much, Professor. You're welcome. I hope your wife gets better. Of course. I'll let you know. Yeah, naturally. Maybe it was just without breaking into my house. Yes, certainly. Thank you. And again, my apologies. And now I got to run to the hospital to read her the new poem. Well, you don't want to read it here first? No, I want to read it with her. Oh, all right. Let me know. Of course. Should I need more poems? I can count on you, right? What do you want me to say? OK. OK. This is my hero, Neil Erwe, by Giuliana Musso. My name is Paul Kappinson. I direct with the piece. And the play is made up of three distinct monologues. The protagonists of the monologues are three mothers of many Italian soldiers who took part in the International Security Assistance Force mission in Afghanistan during the years 2008 to 2010. Two of the mothers in the play lost their son in battle. The three women are from very different backgrounds, social extraction, geographic origin, personality. But they share the experience of having a soldier's son. The mother's talk is interlaced with memories of childhood, stories of tragic events, considerations of their children's choices. The characters are inspired by existing people and real-life events. Tonight, you're going to hear a section of Geodana's story read by Eliza Greensmith. These flowers are so pretty. They're really pretty. I hate them. It's my head. It's not working like it used to. Snow, for example. Snow is so beautiful. It's so soft. It's so white. I hate it. If it snows, I won't go outside. It's my head. It's not working like it used to. I will die completely crazy. Maybe it's best. For me, he's not dead. He's somewhere doing something important. I have my reasons for saying this. First of all, when I received the news, I was having breakfast. I had turned the TV on. And I saw a written Afghanistan Italian soldier found dead. Great news. Great news to start off the day now. I had a piece of croissant in my mouth. It became light stone. I couldn't swallow it. I had spit in the sink. My husband came into the room and asked, did you call Stefano? And I said, no, no, no, no, no. I don't want to bother him at the moment. I don't feel like it. And then the doorbell rang. For starts, he had always told us, if you see two soldiers at the door, it's all right. It means I'm just injured. If you see three soldiers, be strong. I'm dead. I saw two soldiers. Yes, just two soldiers. The third came later. Why did he come later? He fell out of his tank. He fell on the snow. I hate snow. I know it's my head. It's not working like it used to. I will die completely crazy. Probably it's for the best. I'm all right physically. I smoke cigarettes and I drink coffee like a turk. For me, it's doing what I used to do with him. He came home almost every week. First thing, he'd go and he'd say hi to the dog. He would say to him, he's stinky. You stink more and more each day because we had a very stinky dog. Then he'd come in and he'd put his stuff down and he would wash his hands. And then he'd come into the kitchen and he would say, so where's the coffee? So we'd prepare some coffee and then we would go out onto the balcony and we would smoke a cigarette and we would talk. We would talk about everything. We'd call each other every day to talk for a bit. If we couldn't talk, he would give me a ring just to tell me that he was okay. Bad at the country or at the Taliban. Bad at Jesus Christ. And when I go up there, I'm not gonna take my own life. I'm not stupid, but I will go up there sooner or later, right? I mean, we all do. So hear me out. When I go up there, someone will come down. You'll think it's meteorite passing through, but instead it's Jesus Christ himself who will come down. And let him go and see for himself what's up down here in Afghanistan or in Iraq. Let him go see where and why our sons died. And Jesus asks me what my son was doing in Afghanistan. I will answer him because my son didn't go to Afghanistan to kill people. No, he went to help them. Organizing aid for a local population. He'd go talk to Afghans without a helmet or a safety jacket so that he wouldn't scare them. When the region was flooded, he came out every day to help people. He would call me and he would tell me that he was working in the office. And then he'd make these paper noises so that I would believe him. Instead, he was out there in all kinds of danger. Jesus Christ will come down like a meteorite. And when he comes down, he'll pass another one coming down like a rocket, Mohammed, with his big beard. Because I bet that there is some mother and father somewhere in Afghanistan who is as furious as I am for sure, who will sent him down as well. Because all those soldiers dying around the world, they're not born out of rocks. Are they? Are they born out of rocks? I don't think anyone is born out of rocks. Somebody cleaned their nose, their teeth, their butts, their hair. They spoon fed them. They healed their cough, their fever. They told them a bedtime story. They signed them a lullaby. They gave them a birthday cake. They were not born out of rocks. Why should I be angry at the country? Who's the country? We are the country. I am the country too. And I don't think anybody here wants to go to war. I don't think that we want to send our sons to die. Am I wrong? Am I not thinking right? No, no, no. Because if I'm wrong, tell me, if we are not the country, what are we? Are we imbeciles? Are we slaves? What? What are we? No, we are the country. Everyone does his own share. And Stefano did his, and we are proud of him. But not for the medals that he earned, but for the person who he was. I only put medals on him the day that I went to pick him up because I know how he really disliked these sorts of things. He didn't care for them at all. He didn't care for rank, he couldn't have cared less. He used to say to his soldiers, here on the military base, one has to respect uniform, but outside, everyone's equal, everybody. He respected people, and that's why he was respected so well. He was special. They had already given Stefano a medal anyway, two months before he would have picked it up himself with his own two legs if he had come back. He had already made it through so many terrorist attacks. And he'd always come out okay, him and his soldiers. He was good. He was good at his job. He had never stopped studying. He knew several languages. He knew chemistry, engineering, law. We didn't even know how many diplomas he had, or special assignments that he had been given or licenses. We only found out later. Or the stack of paper, this tall. He'd never talked to us about work. Never. He'd see what needed to be done, and he would do it without much talk. One day I had to corner him to make him answer me when we were on the balcony. And I asked him, Stefano, Stefano answer me. Why do you have to go back to Afghanistan? What is the use? You have money, you have rank, and he said to me, mom, these people need help. That's all. And that's it. That was what it was. Now, few words, he said, so as not to get confused. And he was right because words now disgust me. If words were meatballs, I wouldn't feed them even to my dog because it wouldn't have them anyway because they wasted so many words when they sent our soldiers to Afghanistan first. Captured bin Laden. Second, stop international terrorism. Third, stop opium traffic. Fourth, bring democracy. Fifth, free women from the use of burkas. So bin Laden was captured after 10 years and we don't know if it was really him because they threw him into the sea before they could even show us. And of all the rest of the points, they didn't even get to one, not even close. The country is a mess. Attacks and bombs are everywhere. Hunger, unemployment, corruption, what democracy? What? The drug traffic has doubled. Women still wear those damn burkas. And terrorism, yeah, yeah, that was fixed, right? Of course. My husband tells me to wake up, what do I expect? They couldn't say that they wanted vengeance for the Twin Towers. I could be completely crazy, but I did figure out a thing or two. So in New York, those bastards, those terrorists killed 3,000 citizens, 3,000. Afghanistan, 3,500 soldiers from America and other countries died. Do I need to say that again? 3,500. Vengeance? What are you talking about? Words. Poisonous meatballs. What kind of vengeance is that? It's like if I wanted vengeance on a son, for a son who was killed, so I sent the other son to die. What are you talking about? Even if it was vengeance, can you explain to me what has Afghanistan had to do with anything? What? The bastards, the terrorists, who crashed against the World Trade Center were from Saudi Arabia. They were not from Afghanistan. From Saudi Arabia, like bin Laden. And Saudi Arabia has regime two, with money, though an American ally. So I'm not getting it. So everyone here in Italy voted to go to Afghanistan except for four losers, some communists, some not sure. And to those four losers, I won't say anything. And to everyone else, the same people who now want to come and give me my son medals, I want to ask you one thing, just one simple question. What did Stefano die for? Nobody take offense at the question. You'd be asking yourself this too if you had a child who was six feet under, who died in an explosion or shot in Afghanistan, maybe an only child, who was smart, good, like mine was. A tribute of blood. Italy pays with a tribute of blood. What do they think when they say these words? Because I think of Stefano still, every day. And I think of other soldiers too. The sons of other parents. I took a picture of all 53 of them together in one big frame and I put it on my wall because up in heaven, I imagine all of them hanging out there together, keeping each other company, smoking cigarettes, drinking a beer. That's why I'm still alive. Because I don't think they want me out there, not yet. They'll be up there saying, I hope no one's mother comes up here to break our balls because we're fine, just amongst us. And they're right. It is from The Great Walk by Fabrizio Sinisi in this excerpt. It's from the play about the president of the International Monetary Fund, Frederick Jean Paul. He is arrested and kept in an anonymous New York police station. He's accused of sexual violence inflicted on a waitress. His two bizarre jailers, Donald and Frank, have been ordered to guard the prisoner until the following morning, when he will be brought to a safer location. However, things don't go as planned. Jean Paul shows signs of an inexplicable anxiety. Barbara, Jean Paul's wife, and Marcel Labiche, his lawyer and secretary of the French Socialist Party, soon break into the police station. And welcome, please, Starr Kirkland and Michael Johnuprova. I'm not haste as a poor advisor. Time flattens most squirrels. Time lengthens distances. Minutes pass here, rage evaporates, and a new wisdom grows. A new wisdom, a weak and fearful awareness of what happened. But an idea creeps along here that says, this too is man. And I feel like if another minute passes, perhaps I will not even be able to hate him like I'd like that Fredericko my love arises again. And instead of being in conflict with this Fredericko who has raped, completes his own image, making it even more alive to me. Yes, this too is a man. No matter how one can love this debased beast, love him not withstanding feeling, so much pain, and no matter how insolvable this capacity is to continue to love always, still, yet with more strength as his need grows, the danger of not being what one needs to become, one needs to be becomes imminent. Yes, this too is a man. One must have pity on man, but not only on him. On me, on us, on everyone. I know, I'm afraid of entering that room. More than anything, I fear the unexpected. For years I've done everything to protect myself, and now his attack is intolerable to me. I don't know what to ask him. I've prepared anything, and now I'm terrified of having to listen to him for too long. Finally, you're here. I couldn't stand the idea of you outside in that horrible way. You have very little time. Tell me what happened. Oh, they came to get me and they took me where I didn't want to go. They'll kill me. And they kept me here like a beast inside this slaughterhouse. They want to slaughter me. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't want them to slaughter me. I'm afraid. What are you saying? Are you crazy? I'm not crazy, Barbara. Everything is set here. Everything is already in place. The hotel, the girl, this place. You've lost your mind. My head is hurting. No. You know you have to give me an answer. That girl, did you rape her? I've raped her, yes, but those hands were mine. The sex, the rage and that surge, the anxiety and the sweat, even if all those things were mine. Deep down, it's all of very little importance to me. Of everything I've done, the only thing I really feel like is mine is a strange nostalgia to go back to that innocence. That innocence that I don't remember and that was given to me, not to my time, but to my skin. Innocence and guilt are the words that touch someone that I'm looking for too. Someone that can say I and I can relate to like the something missing from my own gestures. I bless the darkness of this violence of mine. Barbara, do you understand me? Whose fault is it then? More cruel than my jailers. No, you don't want a man. No, you want a culprit at any cost. I don't know how to answer you. Who knows, the guilt might be of that girl herself. The girl? Not her sadness, she seemed so. An outflowing stream of sadness, of that divine sadness, unbearable. The sadness of those souls they call saints or someone that doesn't belong to this world. Maybe they cater to seduce me, maybe they cater to talk. It isn't important. That was her and not to me. She and that sadness of hers. But people like Marcel or even you, Barbara, can't understand these things. But a naked person is a shock to you. I didn't oppose any resistance. I was taken by that sadness, like desire. It was profoundly mine, more than ever. It was truly mine, mine forever and ever in that single moment. Tell me what happened in that hotel room. I was trying to touch something. Meat, fire, rock, life. You can do that so rarely. You can't live without trying though. Everything started way before the trap, before that girl, at the airport maybe. On the ladder like a bird ago, the smell of the asphalt had fried into heat and the foreheads of the men, those foreheads marked by time, like gaze is like little statuettes under the sun planted in someone's garden. And that lethal tiredness, that burning obtuse desperation that I saw in every man's gaze and that fiery life otherworldly. Who knows if I have ever been happy? That was what I asked myself in that moment. Has this life of mine ever been happy? Fiercely meaningful, full to the point of overflowing? Have I ever been happy? And as I was waiting, I wonder if you, Barbara, have ever been, you tell me have you? Yes, maybe, sometimes. When? When we got married, when Camilla was born. That's not true. I remember when Camilla was born. I remember our wedding, I was not happy. I was on a rock. I felt empty, suffocating and beyond all that sense of duty, the effort to confine myself to that joy, a joy that went to the wrong direction that day. That joy didn't come to the appointment that was scheduled a long time ago, where I was to be seen as the guest of honor as the man that sits at the head of the table. Well, it was a party anyway. I should have stopped it. Send everyone home, fire the musicians, the catering service, the waiters because joy didn't come to the altar. The party is over and everything should have ended there. Without resentment, since it was no one's fault, or it was somebody's fault, joy was the guilty one. She was the one that was supposed to be celebrated and invited to the center of the altar, the center of the scene and she didn't come. She avoided us without giving any notice or nor excuse. Joy is the one that needs to ask forgiveness. Understand how all of this is coming back at this time. Why did this click exactly now? It's not only yesterday. A new knowledge that takes over me, I can't do without it. And as I was coming down that ladder and running in the streets to find a taxi in this insignificant time between things, a guy from Slovenia came and ran me over. Well, I had ruined the Slovenian banks. I thought that happiness was not possible. Not in this world, not with me, but with this anxiety of mine. I felt my whole body like a naked nerve, a burnt bone exposed to the wind. I have never felt so much pain in my life. Who directed L'Orizzonte degli eventi, The Ventorison, written by Elisa Cassidy, who's here tonight for who has been present at the beginning. Thank you so much for being here. I'll read a short synopsis of the play. So Olga is stuck in a studio apartment, which has a wall with many doors, a front door which doesn't open and no windows. At some point, she realizes that time is messed up and every time she leaves, she enters a different time of her life. It turns out that the doors are a black and white hole device, which draws her personal story into the room, including events and people she loves. Marco is her boyfriend, but sometimes he isn't. Her father is alive, but sometimes he is dead. Her mother left when she was a little girl, but then she is suddenly back. Olga struggles to understand and does not know what reality is anymore. She learned from her father that the edge of black holes is the Event Horizon because it moves away as we get closer, which is how future wars too. So she runs away in order to learn how to get back. Reading Francesco Andolfi, Adriana Rosetto, John Carlin, Marianne Godel, and Alicio Parenti. Alicio Parenti, Event Horizon, by Elisa Casteri. Characters, Olga, Marco, her boyfriend, Franco, her father, Julia, her mother. An empty room, a studio, no windows. On the left wall, there's a small sink and a kitchen, on the right wall, the entrance floor, no door, no. On the front wall, there are many doors in all shapes and colors. They hang crooked or straight in a confusing display of exits. Only one door is properly functional and that's the bathroom door. There is no furniture, no. The room will be furnished and modified throughout the play. A girl nervously walks around the room. She scratches her eyes, weeps, she's very nervous. She tries to open the entry door, but no success. She goes into the bathroom, comes out, goes in, comes out, and she keeps walking. Where? I would like to know where and how, how does this work? It's not really possible, it's incomprehensible. How did I get stuck in here? And why is this room so empty? It wasn't empty. I know, I know. Marco, you're pulling my leg. These sort of things don't happen. It can be true. All guess it, facing the wall of doors. I read it once, how one can understand if he's dreaming. I think you have to look at a watch twice in a row or read a sign twice in a row and if the letters would be different or the hands at the clock would move because there's no time and space continuum in the world of dreams. But here I have no clock and not even a word to read. Maybe I can try flying or levitating. And if I succeed, it would mean that I'm in a dream. Of course I'm not dreaming. She pages herself out. Okay, I'll relax. You came in from there. And from there, you'll go out. Olga tries to open one of the doors, the biggest one. It opens. She goes in. She comes out of the bathroom door. How does this work? I even have to guess which one is the running door. Marco, help me please. She walks around the room again and then she starts counting the doors. I need a counting rhyme. That's what I need. One, two, three, four, five. Once I caught a fish alive. Six, seven, eight, nine, 10. Then I let him go again. Why did I let him go? Because he bit my finger. So which finger did he bite? This little finger on my right. Her finger stops on one of the doors and she goes in. Marco comes out of the bathroom, bringing a chair. And she's the light bulb. Olga? Where the hell did she go? All the reactors. My God, Marco! There you are, finally! I'm out of shot. Marco, we're stuck. We're stuck in this place and I'm doomed to go round in circles in rooms that are all the same as this one. Hey, hey, hey, what's the matter? What are you saying? Why are you coming up with all these crazy stories? I just changed the light bulb in the bathroom. Aren't you happy? I don't know how to tell you what I'm about to tell you. You're breaking up with me? Again? I know you're going through a rough time, Olga, but this is not the way. Trust me, you'll feel better just... Listen to me, Marco. I'm stuck in this room. Actually, now we're stuck in here. There's no way out. The entry door isn't working. It's an open... Of course it isn't open! I... The door not fell off, but... I promise I'll fix it, but, as you know, the door not is in the sink. You can put it back on the door and it will open. I know this house is gross. There is no need for you to remind me. But I think it's a miracle my grandmother left it to me. It's my home. Do you understand? And it's my home. And yours. It's our home. What's the matter? Do you want to leave? You don't understand, and that's fair because what's happening to me is absurd. I can't understand it myself. Those doors on the wall are some sort of passage. Any door I open brings me right back in here to this same room. Sit. No. Please sit down on the only chair we have. I know you hate the situation, but things will work out. I promise you, we'll fix everything. Maku, listen to me. Happy birthday to you. From one of the doors, Julia and Franco, August parents, enter with a cake. Talk to the birthday candle in the shape of the number 10. Oh, wow. Happy birthday to you. Yay! August is strong. She blows out her candle. You're a double digits now, sweetie. You're a big girl. Happy birthday. Happy birthday. Maku, this is my mother. You understand it's not possible, right? I want it to be possible, too, but it's not. Look, look how young my parents are. What's not possible? Today is my birthday, and clearly I'm not 10. The parents start bigger. Yes, you are, and I want to eat that cake. Is it chocolate cake? I hope they didn't put fruit in it. Can't you see we're grown-ups? We're 30 years old, and that's my mother. I have pressed your armpits are hairy. Check them out, come on. You know Olga? I don't know if I want to be your boyfriend anymore. You're so weird. Why do you say these things? And then you don't even have activities. Look. Olga touches her breasts. Mark will ask. He pushes her, and she falls. Don't hurt yourself, Olga. You didn't know each other as kids. Understand? What's happening? What the hell is going on? The other kids are playing dodgeball. Come on, come on. Let's go, Serena. Let's go. Mark goes out. Olga first to look at her parents. Don't freak out. You're 30 years old. Your mother went away when you're a little girl. Your dad is older than this. This is a dream. Something you have to focus and figure out how you ended up here. What was I doing? Where was I? What happened to this room? Twisted it into itself. What are these doors? Olga's mother slaps her father, places the cake on the chair, and goes into the bathroom. Daddy. Olga, go play with the other kids. Julia, we can't go on like this. Pretend like it's nothing. It's not good for Olga. It's not good for anybody. You need to ask yourself what it is you want from your life. I know very well what it is I want from mine. No answer. Olga goes to the kitchen sink, sees the doorknob and picks it up. Sees the door, but the doorknob that Mark had fixed before is still there. Frago stops knocking, goes to the cake, removes the birthday handle, and puts it in his pocket. He picks up the cake from the chair and puts it on the floor. He starts talking to himself. So this is how you leave. The moment has come for us in part ways. I'm sure. Dad, are you okay? Olga, you're here. Yes, I'm... You have to help me. I have a huge problem. I have to understand this thing, and maybe you're the only one that knows it. It's not as bad as you think. You move to another city. You meet new people. You go to college. As I remember it, you're about to have one of the happiest times of your life. And not to say that the years with you weren't amazing, but, you know, your mother... things didn't work out well. Well, don't be scared. Be excited. You see these doors? I can't understand how... Doors, sweetie. Don't be scared of anything. Don't throw yourself towards solutions. Don't save time. Let me give you some advice. Lose time. Lose as much of it as you can. Don't try to find the shortest way towards what you think is right. Don't try to find linear solutions. Explore. Go off the beaten path. Ask yourself if there's something else you want. I'm not saying to put yourself in danger. But don't play it safe all the time. But don't play it safe, either. I remember this conversation very well. Behave. You don't always have to be first. I did nothing but be first. My whole life. Look where I'm now. I graduated first. I was the first to get married. The first to have a child. The first one who ended up alone. Just a couple of days ago, I was thinking that the shortest amount of measurement of time is the second. You understand? The second. So, Olga. Try to be second. Now you have to go. Wait, Dad. I need to ask you something. Maybe if I say it in a crazier way, you'll answer. Where does time flow? In the water pipes, in the wiring, in the space between the hardwood floor? Is there a chance to catch it and stop it? Like being stuck in a hallway where your whole life is at your fingertips but you can't do anything about it and you don't know why? Olga, you have to go. If it's me who has to go, why did you have to go and stop? Dad, help me. And speak it out. Okay, after all. To come over and the directors, we have some drinks for you all again. Thank you for staying and if we would have like 10, 10, 50 minutes, a data deal that we can ask and then we can open up to questions. First of all, I think this was just strong. I began reading and I think hearing voices, doors that open and close, voice from the past or from the present. So I think that especially the last piece was, it was something that could be a theme for what we have and we also have you with us here. But since it's two o'clock in Italy and... and Giuliana, can you hear us? Thank you. Can you say something? Yes, thank you. So were you able to see the live stream of the readings? It's hard to... What did you see? Could you see live stream your reading? Yes. The reading and the actress, the actress that I would like to... Yeah, I think it's hard to hear. What's your name? Eliza. It's Eliza Greensmith. Okay, thank you very much. My pleasure. Thank you. Could you detect a different tone to a different vibration from the plain Italy? Does it feel different to hear it in American English in New York? Well, I... First of all, I'm... So I do the piece you heard. I do the piece. So I think it's really hard to hear. Maybe Brad and Michael try to close it and call again and maybe we go on here with the... Okay. No, let's try again normally. It does work. So maybe we go to Eliza who is here with us. So thank you again for making the long journey. You arrived last night. So you are... Oh, it's also two o'clock for you. Yes. So what is your reaction of hearing the play or the excerpt? Testing, okay. So Eliza Cassidy will be speaking in Italian and I'll be translating for her. So we are with us. I prefer to speak in Italian because otherwise she prefers talking in Italian. In reality, the Italian test doesn't take place. The play in Italian has never been produced. Not yet, not yet. So this is the first time I've seen it. So this is the first time that she sees her play alive, acted by actors. It has been very beautiful, very interesting, especially because there are some intentions that are different. I've given that it was very beautiful. And interesting, especially because there are certain intentions that were different that she has given and that... She's a writer, she writes novels and everything that she writes remains on paper and it doesn't come alive in the theater. It came to me in this way. It was the story that looked for its shape and not me that looked for this shape because it was my third approach to the theater. It was crazy, it was a very good experience and to be honest it was the text, the narration that found its own media. This is just my third time approaching theater. Thank you actors, they are great directors. She's very happy and she's very thankful and she's thankful to the directors and the actors. Thank you again and the Italian advisory board just to give you an idea how this worked. We had an American advisory board of five, six people who suggested a place from America, from the U.S. They thought might be working in Italy, send it over and the Italian chose a couple of plays that will be done in Rome on the 15th of December and the Italian play also the ones we have here were suggested by prestigious advisory board from Italy, their directors and dramaturgs and writers and journalists and then the American advisory board so this looks interesting so it really is done by a group of curators to put it together and it's interesting and surprising to have your play that won a prize but still to be the first reading here in Italy, here in New York and in Italy. So thank you again. So let's try again the Giuliana, can you hear us? It's very hard to understand what you're saying. Yes, but it sounds a bit better. So tell us a little bit the impression of hearing your monologue which of course is also so very well so much connected to the U.S. or New York, it comes even up. How does it, how did it feel for you to hear it? It was a surprise that you choose to perform to play this piece of it because I thought it couldn't be too much to do it in New York. I was afraid of it. Today I believe it's your people that I'm talking about but I know that playing my hero I honestly wrote it because I believe that we all have to cry a little bit together for weak people, the people, everybody who stand by me. So what I learned from the mothers of these soldiers is that crying is a good thing to understand what happens. So you intervened. When I saw the actress crying a little bit and I see her now with a baby I'm happy for those tears. So thank you very much. Thank you. So you interviewed mothers of Italian soldiers that went to Afghanistan? Yes, yes. All the guys that talk about it today will exist. I mean real people. We see that what the vibrations are for politics of American politics but also then into global politics. Valeria, tell us a little bit of humanism and why did you decide to do this project of exchange? First of all I decided because you get me to do that. To invite me to do that. And then of course I work in theater for a long time so I love my job. And when you ask me why don't we do something to promote Italian contemporary playwrights I say sure, sure. I mean, okay. And also because I am a little crazy. So maybe I did this project because of it. Maybe. And maybe a lot of things. But I think I have a mission. Everybody has a mission. But I think I have this mission to, as you told me, to demonstrate with my experience that we can do something to change. And I don't love to complain. And I love to act. Not on the stage. So this is why I did. But also because my company is called humanism without the age. Because it's the crisis between humanism. There is a beautiful world. There is a beautiful period of our culture. And humans, there is an international world that means something that born from the human being. So I think we need to start from the human being and to approach a new humanism, humanismo, to start a new renaissance. For sure. For everybody. For the mothers, for the theater, for the daily life and so on. So it is why I did this project. Yeah, I think these are stories of more Italian playwrights we can relate to. They are of course Italian in a way, but they are also universal. Maybe our question to the directors, or maybe we start with you, Arina, and then go down here. So your impressions about those plays, do they work, do they not work? Are they Italian? How did it feel to work with them? To be honest, they only got excerpts. They didn't have the full play. They couldn't look at the full play in Italian, but they have not been yet fully translated. So give us a bit of your impression. Yeah, I've been so lucky because I could read the whole play, actually, to prepare. And that was like very useful in rehearsal to have a conversation with Jungle Rubin, sorry, who actually was the director of the reading. But we both had so much fun and watching the other three pieces, I kept forgetting that they were written by Italian writers. I kind of had to remind myself that these were Italian playwrights because they were so universal. So that's what we perceived too as we were working on it. We were trying to look at other references to make up these characters and have a clear understanding of the situation where Olga is in. And we would throw in any kind of reference from movies to books that were not necessarily Italian. And I think that it was so beautiful to listen to these stories and to listen these writers talking about very strong women. If I can add that, we saw a mother and we saw a wife and a daughter struggling and a man so in love with his wife that he is ready to do anything for it. So it was really an honor to work on this piece. Thank you so much, Adriana, to involve me. And it was so great to work with John. Just open to any ideas from me, the other actors, and open to just explore more and more even if we're just reading. So beautifully acted like the others. Olga and Vandelen, sorry about it, some sadness made me think of my family and my parents. And all of that I would like to see the whole play as everybody I hope will see soon. So again, thank you for coming. Sara. It was such a privilege to get to work on this little excerpt and it just made me want more. And I'm a little bit jealous that the other playwrights are in the room because I think all I want to do is just talk more to them. I mean, it's like every play that we work on, I'm looking at the text and trying to find my way through it. And so whether it's written in English originally or in Italian originally, I'm looking for what is the playwright, what is he trying to say, what is she trying to say, and how are we going to work our way through this? And I think the first one, a notebook for winter, it's reaching for this connection between two people. And it's just very simple. That's the little chestnut in there. And so that was easy for us to kind of determine and look to try and find it. And the second one, it was about what is the tone of this piece? It's so poetic and how are we finding the humanity through that style? And what does that mean? I can't wait to, I hope I get to talk to these playwrights to try and feel out more what's in the rest of the play and what else are we looking for through this style. Thank you. Thank you very much. I hope we will have full translations maybe also in a book form like we did with the other play. So Mark, tell us a bit about your journey. Thank you, Juliana, for letting us work on it. So I suppose there's two things to talk about. Firstly, I think that it's an apt time to be telling a story about women mothers interrupting a cycle of violence or trying to figure out how to disturb cycles of violence that have occurred throughout our history. So I think we had a lot of conversations about what it means to tell that story now. And then separately I think when you're working on documentary pieces where the text is coming from interviews with real people who have been in these situations obviously you have a very specific responsibility to try and articulate those stories in a respectful, in a sensible and an accurate way. So a lot of our conversations became about what does it mean to do that in translation when yes this is the real text but it's been translated and so it's set to remove, it's at a distance. So we had conversations about how to make certain phrases relatable to an American audience and if you change that, is that changing the original intention and so a lot of our conversations centered around that and I think that's a particularly interesting challenge about working on documentary theatres through another language. In a way it's as you say translated into another place but in a way it also came home so it was a journey also so beautifully active. Maybe we open up right away to questions here Mark, Brian and Michael if you could put out a little bit of the light up to the audience. We also have an audience microphone to go around. I want to just give you a little portrait about the authors because these editions have very different authors one to the other. So Elisa presents herself and also Giuliana but I want to tell you that Giuliana is a very famous actress in Illinois so she works a lot and this is why you are here in a video and not here in person. And then we have and also very well recognized from everybody of us and then we have Fabrizio Sinisi that is another writer and director but not actor and he works a lot with Massini for example with Piccolo di Milano he is very well recognized as an author and then we have Armando Piroz there is an outsider completely outsider because he is an author for theater, he is a playwright very very good playwright because everybody knows as a good player he is a notebook for the winter, he is on the list of the Ubu prizes now in many in many parts also best actor best play for sure and he is like he don't use internet he don't use telephone he is like an old style person so just to have a portrait of this kind of differences between this edition and the other edition where we met others that were also actors, directors and many times producers by themselves so we are switching a little bit and this is thanks to our advisory board that decided to to vote this place so thank you very much thank you Marvin because thank you you and to the other I think it's a little bit we talked about this today the Siegel center style instead of having one person who knows everything and who you have to please we ask a group of people we say what do you think and they talk to their friends and then we come to consensus very different model but I think we are surprising choices so we have the first reading of an Italian play here in New York where the advisory board said the strongest writer or a play that might get the Uber prize is not even nobody comes here first so I think this just shows the strong value such a project it has I think let's go out to the audiences and do we have a microphone or should we take one yeah and so we not only be recorded we need to hear it but we also want to hear it better so questions or remarks first one over there hi this is a little bit of a follow-up question to what Irena was saying because she said she had to remind herself that the plays were Italian so I was wondering this is a question for the non-italian actors and directors I was wondering if you felt that there was something distinctively Italian in the way the plays were written or the way characters talk or the tone or something else and if I may I have a second question I was wondering how much you guys are familiar with Italian contemporary theater and if this experience part could be your interest in Italian contemporary theater thank you I'll take that it actually partly because the writing made the acting easy and I feel like it touched on so many universals like there were little things that made it specifically Italian but really overall it was kind of you know like any mother you know who has a son that goes away except for most American moms wouldn't be like yeah you know like we drank coffee and smoked cigarettes out on the balcony they'd be like like but you know aside from that like little cultural differences like that I'd say no embarrassingly not as familiar with contemporary Italian theater as I would like to be and yeah it did spark an interest so yeah I'm not Italian I'm definitely interested I have very little knowledge of contemporary Italian theater have you ever seen a play in the Middle East no I have never seen a play I've never read an Italian contemporary play but what struck me was I wasn't at all there was nothing that made me think oh this is so foreign this is so different it's just it's words it's play it's human and even in the text that is written in a specific poetic style it's something that just I guess as a dramatist I understand but I absolutely want to know these people and I want to get to know these characters and I want to know the minds that created these pieces as well so now I have to go to Italy okay another comment or question or remark from the audience yeah Fabio I remember two years ago when we did the first edition of of this event of Italian Prairie Art Project and there was we were having a conversation like this with the directors and the authors and one of the author basically say to the director that the reduction that he did was totally wrong and it was tagliarini with and it was interesting for me because because with this project is actually in long term so we basically finished the publication of the whole translation right now what we started so it was really the beginning and talking about what is wrong and what is right in the reduction of the project that is still yet to go to be done it was very interesting actually so I wanted to ask Elisa Juliana if you found something wrong in the reduction of your play something that sounds you know she's talking about me because I did the translation you see the little bias so I forgot that I'm she she didn't think that there's anything wrong but she was surprised by some of the choices of the director is this is something that surprised and surprised me and it was good and nothing that took away from the play for you Juliana I'm going to speak in Italian because she said that it's marvelous to hear those words those smiles those movements in another box so she said that it's marvelous to hear those words and those smiles those movements in another box and she said those words those movements in another body, in another language, is the most beautiful gift that a playwright can receive. Another question remark, thought, maybe to the actor is a question, how does it feel often a European playwright to say it looks a lot of what we see in America, it could be on television or it's a writing for a TV, does it feel, do you feel something different or would you say this could have come from a downtown writer? This is actually the second Italian play that I've worked on. I was in a play over the summer with Alicie Perente. That was also obviously translated into English and then yesterday I had the privilege of going to see beautiful Italian short plays at Elia Nation by the Caedos International Theater and I feel like I'm just being embraced by this incredible Italian theater scene in New York that I didn't know anything about six months ago and the plays are marvelous and they're not, for the most part, my experience of the writing is that it's very contemporary and very modern and very different from anything we're doing here. Pushing the envelope, pushing the limits of narrative storytelling in an incredibly interesting way and I'm glad to hear that the translation is doing justice because I've studied theater, European theater, translated, the translation is so important, it's really an interpretation always. So to have the playwrights living here and able to say, yes, this is still, what I was trying to say is really a gift, very special. I think it's, when the writing is as good as it is and theater, it gets to the humanism, it doesn't matter what country it's from. There may have been particular Italian elements, but it was, for me it was a little weird that it resonated so personally. I was like, why did you choose me for this? This is really strange. And the only other strange thing that we assumed, we assumed that their marital difficulties was because he cheated on her, of course. We found out that she cheated on him. But anyway. So in America, the guy cheats, always. In Italy, I guess the lady. At least that's what we hear about. Yeah, so and maybe Mario, we can ask you what if we listening to the excerpts here, Mario, as you know, is very well known. Can you take the microphone because we're recording? I'm always interested in listening to contemporary plays. I always discover that playwrights in Italy are very modern, are very introspective, and give us wonderful insights into our society. But do you see lines, you know, temporalities through, you know, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s on using something happened in the Italian playwright scene? I see a difference now. There's a little more alienation. But up to two years ago, there was a very realistic approach and a very optimistic approach about Italian playwrights. Yeah, thank you so much. So maybe as the last question to Valeria, what's next for the Italian playwrights portrait? Maybe tell a bit about what's happening in Rome, but in general, what are your ideas? What's your vision and what do you want to do in New York? So first of all, I'm very grateful to everything I heard because it's not easy to produce Italian theater. And we talk a lot with Laura that does something very connected with this. And it's not easy because I don't want to use the term discrimination because it's not polite. It's not the real term. But everybody is mostly connected with the is on route. So you do Italian theater, so for Italians. No, it's not for Italians, it's for all the world, no? So this is the challenge we have to talk about theater. Pull out Italian, Arabic, German. I don't care about the objective. I care about the subject theater. So this is why I am trying to build a bridge between Italy and the US. So this second edition, that is also the final of the first edition with the book that we have here. And it is printed right now. So this is just the day the first edition is finishing and the second edition is starting. We are going also in Italy to do the same, the twin project with American playwrights. And it is very exciting because the differences between this project and the project will be shown by the experience but now we are departing from the same point. Everybody needs to spread the word they wrote. So my role as a manager is to help the spreading. I don't enter in the judgment about this is good, this is not good, this is my taste, it doesn't matter. But I need to put my professional experience to help this happens, both sides. So this is what is happening now and I hope this starts a chain, how do you say it? Chain reaction. Chain reaction. Chain reaction. Chain reaction. Chain supply. Chain supply, I need every time the supply chain to for authors where they can find translators, publishers and productions and after this all. I think New York is very happy that you came here. You are very established producer in Italy with very big productions, big theaters. Normally when people come over here they try to do something here and start out new but we have high respect for your work and we also know you grew up with Dario Faux and Peggy Guggenheim in Venice so you have some connections. So we hope to see a theater festival of those plays one hopefully here and maybe over a month that four or five of those plays could play in repertory and some of the directors could work with it and there are many other ideas. But congratulations to you, thank you to all the writers, Juliana, for being up. To make possible we need the donations. Well, if you want the festival, the donations. It's as they said about if there's will and has a way, right, let's talk about it. Julian Shakespeare and have a way, who's wife. So I think if there's a will, maybe malaria has a way and I hope it will be done. But again, thank you, Juliana, for staying up so long for Elisa to travel here, just to be with us and congratulations and thanks to the actors and thanks to, thanks really to the actors who really brought that to life. So thank you all. There will be a reception here. Maybe you're interested to buy the book it's only $50 and it's up 30 and we are losing money by $50, by the way. But I hope you will come here and there will be a little gathering at the archive bar around the corner afterwards. I think it's in the program. So thank you for coming. You're a great audience and thank you for sharing. Thank you. Thank you.