 that virus exposing and also what do theater artists do? What should we do? What can we do? Theater artists are on the right side of progressive justice, the complex struggle for freedom and liberties. And so all the experience are so vastly, vastly different. In America, we still have over a million cases, I think over 100,000 people died. It's a disaster. There are social unrest on the street for very good reasons. We talked a lot, Black Lives Matter movement is out there. And it is, as some say, a perfect storm. And maybe we will see a summer of unrest, perhaps even violence. It's no trust in government and civic leaders, no trust in the workspace and the bosses. Uncertainty at home. People in America, when they lose their job, they lose their health insurance. 45 million filed for unemployment. It's a disaster and the temperatures are rising. There will be hot July nights and August. So we don't know what will happen as we know. Theater is always on the site of doing the right thing. When you're in doubt, you always do the right thing. But we believe in telling stories, telling complex stories. Just yesterday we had the Great Spider Women Theater Company from New York, the oldest indigenous Native American Theater Company led by women. And we heard about their lives and how complicated it was and how they have been pushed to the side and mistreated in their long lives. And they are still trying to make a sense out of it. And they feel it's also time for them to take care of themselves. So many of their family members died, company members, friends. They seem to also be hit harder by the virus. So it is a very, very complicated time. We do live in cases are going up again, 15% perhaps in America and Europe's cities that open are forced to close part of it down. So all does not look very good at the moment. And now we are turning our attention today a very significant part of the world, the Caribbean. We have the French-speaking Caribbean island, the English-speaking ones like Jamaica. We might have people there from next week. But today we have a great artist with us who also has been at the theater for our Caribbean and theater project with the action Caribbean Theater, which was the very, very first series of play readings from different playwrights from the Caribbean's ever, actually, shockingly enough. And Danieli Francisca, a French Caribbean actress, director, playwright, and she's one of the leading figures in Martinique, co-director of the company Traque Compagnie Theatral. And since 1904, she has been performing, doing theater. We did her great play, She Devil. And she was named as a Knight of Arts and Letters by the Ministry of Culture in France, something we all dream about, but no one of us gets it. Danieli, thank you for joining and being here with us. We promised a translator, but somehow we didn't fully make it happen. But I do remember from your talks at the Seagull that you did very well. So welcome. Where are you right now? What time is it? Oh, hello, hello, everybody. I'm in Martinique, a little French Caribbean island. And it's 11 noon, like in New York. Same time. Yeah, it's the same time. And it's hot. And it's windy. And there are a lot of pollution in the air. And that's it. We are OK. I'm very happy to be here with you. Thank you. Tell us a bit, how is time of corona for you? It was a time of rest. I took time to be quiet, to take silence, to have time, and to read, to connect with nature. I live in the countryside here in Martinique, in the south of Martinique. And there is a lot of trees and birds and animals, farm animals. So I took time to just be here at the moment, at the present time. And I was thinking about my grandma and what she learned me. And I took some leaves in the garden and put it in the rain. I have some rain collected here in my garden. And I made some bath of nature with flowers, with leaves of my garden. And I was just washing with that, with the nature. And it was very good for me. I was connecting with a sort of spirituality. I was my spirituality. But the way we do it here in Martinique, in the Caribbean, like my grandma learned me, was doing. And it was really good for me. And I'm also writing a new playwright, a new play. And this was helping me. The nature was helping me to write it down. Because it's about nature, my nature, my origins, my culture, how culture here in Martinique, who are Caribbean, African, European, we are a mix of all that. And there's a lot of questions of identity about that. That's coming out about that. Colonialism also. So I was thinking about all of that during the COVID time. Trying to make a theater that is more true for me. That's coming from my heart and my origins and my essential way to be. I was searching about that. And I was taking time with my son because here schools were closed. So I was teaching him at home about mathematics and French and all that. And it was okay to do that also. And it was cool because I was not running around for my job and all that things we do every day. And it was really, really good for me to take time, in fact. So you slowed down. Yes. Oh, that's so good. And I was thinking about how we run every day, how fast we live, in fact. How things make you live fast and put you out of yourself, in fact. So it was good for me to live slowly and take time to just breathe and be myself here and now with the nature, with the sun, the sky, the rain, the wind, the nature, the birds, everything. I am coming from nature. I am the nature. Nature is me and it was important to connect to this essential thing. You felt you had lost the connection to nature in the last few years. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, I lost it because I don't take time, in fact. I don't take time to just put my feet, my foot on the ground. And there's a lot of power there. There's a lot of power. I really feel that because it's like a way to refill myself. Do you understand my English? Yeah, absolutely. This is very, very good. Oh, thank you. It was a way to refill myself because I feel that during all these days of working and going around the world, I was not taking time for me. And I was not taking enough time to connect with nature. It's very important. And really, I realized that how much nature was important for me to be vertical, to be great, to be happy, to be good. Yeah. So you talked about your grandmother. What did she teach you? We said, I remember. Tell us about her. What did she do and what did she teach you? My grandmother's name was Laura. And in fact, when I was very, very young, I was a child. My mom had to go in France to find, to work. So she let me here in Martinique with my grandmother, who became my mother. And I lived here in Martinique with my grandmother, who was like my second mother. And she had, she learned me about, I think, nature, about the power of lives because she knew medicines with the garden. In the garden, we always have plants who are healing what you have, about stomach, about headache or anything. She knew that, in fact. And she was doing some teas for me to wash me inside. She was giving me, how do you say that, fruits. And she was cultivating, understand? Okay. Absolutely. Her self. And it was a way to eat. It was a way to be touched by her. It was a way to be, for her to teach me about traditional stories and tales. I learned to be scared with her. And I learned to pray with her how to get rid of phantoms or spirits, terrifying spirits. And in fact, she learned me about the culture, the traditional culture, coming from her own heritage. She learned me also, but I didn't realize at that time. But now, now I realize how she was organizing her space, her house, how she was cleaning her house and why she was cleaning the house and how she was doing it. It was not just to take a wash on the floor and not that, no, it was not that. It was a washing of the universe of the house. It was the washing of the spirits of the house. It was connecting with the spirits living here in the house with you and whom you live with, in fact. I didn't understand that when I was young, but now I'm really feeling that perhaps when you're young, you don't feel that as strong as when you're grown up. And now I really feel that. And I can say to you that my grandma was dead, more than 10 years ago, 14 years ago. But I feel her. I feel that she, I don't know if she talks to me. I don't know that. But I feel her in my chest and in what I'm doing and I feel her. And I think that I always asked me, why do I do theater? I think that my grandma was an actress. She was a comedian. She has a great tragedy. And she was happy to tell us stories, to make us care, to customize, to put costume on her and just doing things like that. She's the memory of the family. In Martinique, we have a term to call that, it's the photo-mitant. It's like a strong photo in the middle of the house. That's OK. A beam. Yes. And just she, all the house, all the family can appuyer sur elle. Can lean on her. Can rest on her. Yeah. Can rest on her. And after all these, those years after she disappeared, but she's always here in our stories, in our laughs, and we think a lot about her. And now I live where I live is on the, where my grandparents were cultivating. And this is, I live in their house, their home, in fact, I live here. And it's during the time we were confinated, confined, locked down. I was feeling a lot about, I was feeling them a lot. I was feeling a lot, the ones who passed, but I really realized that they are here. We can see them, but they are here, they are here, and I can talk with them. So you talk with them? I try, I try to talk with them, and I try to understand what they say to me, and how they communicate with me. They don't talk to me, but I, it's more a matter of feeling, of feeling them. I feel them a lot. And I realized that they are not the only one. There's a lot of dead people in our families. And for me, I realized that the spirits of all that people was here with me, are here with me. I try to communicate and live with them and realize and incorporate them in my life, in what I was doing around my house, or in my house, how I was living in my house. It was important for me to feel them, to talk with them. And I feel that it makes me stronger. It makes me larger. Like really, I'm not alone, in fact. There's a lot of people around me, and I'm a lot of people. They are all inside of me, and they are all around me. And I am not alone. And I feel really powerful with that, and really much stronger. And they have been always around you, but maybe we didn't feel them as strongly or listened as carefully then. Yes. Yes. And you know, with the story of COVID, I was telling myself that it was important to come back to what is essential, in fact. And what is essential is what is me, myself, and I. But also the nature around me, and also my family, my living family. But also, I told myself that the dead people are my family, also. And they are here, in fact. They are there. And it was a kind of, this is my universe. I realized that this is all, all of that is my universe. And my essential universe. So I can go now in the world, or in my work, or around the world, running what, how I was doing it, but with my whole universe. It was important for me. Hmm. And that's, in a way, also a very beautiful spiritual experience of nature, your home, your ancestors' gardens, and to reconnect. Yeah. And, you know, I realized that really strongly when I went on in the Congo next November, last November. Last November. Yeah. Just before New York, when I, we met in December. And I went there to play, just to act my play there, one of my plays. And I had some strong feelings about that land, because we went on the slave roads, where slaves were captured and put in the boats and sold and all of that. And it was really, I was very sad about that. It makes me a lot of emotions, in fact. And I was looking at the landscape, four centuries after, three or four centuries after. And I was still feeling their presence there. And I was still feeling that. I was, there were still the place where they were sold. There was a lot of trees, because the slaves was eating some fruits, the mango fruit, you know. They were eating some mango fruit. And just you throw the lenoayo, you know. Yeah, the corn, yeah. And just throw it down and seed. Yeah, this made some trees on this road of slavery. And so each tree was a memory of them. Each part of the landscape for me was a part of them. And then when I came back in Martinique, I was looking around me, looking the landscape differently, asking myself, wow, where did they work? Where did they die? How were they living? Are they here? Where did they disappear? Did they disappear? I was asking myself all of that. And I really felt that it was important for me to reconnect with their spirits. In fact, because here in Martinique, in the way that we were colonized by friends, we learned also to forget. We learned also to erase. We learned also not to recognize our origins because it's past and it's not... You have to forget your story to go ahead. You learned that. And my grandma was telling me that just she didn't like everything who are too much African or all of that. But she was telling me that, but in the way she was living, there are a lot of things that are very African. In fact, the African culture is in our culture also. And with all of this culture of forgiveness, is that? It was important for me. It's made a long time for me that it's important for me to remember. It's important for me to remember them. Remember where I come from. Remember to understand just to understand which human being I am. Where do I come from? Yes, I'm Caribbean. I was born here in Martinique. I'm French nationality, French nationality, but I'm brown. I'm black. So where do I come from? I didn't understand. And this question of my origins leads me to do theater, to write theater, to understand, to question and to show and to share about this story. Because it's important to know who you are. And I think that here in Martinique, or I will talk for Martinique, only this way to erase memory, make people sick in their relation with themselves. Because you're black, but you learn that black is not beautiful. Black is dirty. Black is nasty. You learn that in my family, in my family, there's a lot of mixed people. In my family, we are all black, there's no metisage. I don't know how you say that. No mix here. But in my black family, there are a lot of different skin shades here. Yeah, there are a lot of different shades. And my grandma was doing a difference with the old child who were dark skin. And the other were lighted, I don't know. Light skin? Absolutely. And I didn't understand that. And now that I have to learn, I have to question the story to understand why a mother discriminates her own child. And was telling the dark one that she's not good, she's not beautiful. I didn't understand that. And then all this question of identity were essential. And I marked a lot theater here in Martinique or in the Caribbean, French Caribbean. And my theater, in fact, also. And all of that, I had to go further in all that question. And I know my history. I know my history. History, the art history, is a little learn here in the schools because we better know France's story than Martinique's story. It's not learned, not teached. You don't learn about Martinique's history at the slave trade and African connection. You don't learn about yourself. You don't learn about your land. We don't learn about your history. We don't learn about your geography. We don't learn about that. If you want to know that, you have to do your own research. And it's, for me, it's not normal. It's not normal. In our days, it's not normal not to teach our story in school, at school. And that's why this question of know yourself is very important for me. And know myself is why, is my origins, okay, African origins, but also female, how women as exits here in the Caribbean or here in Martinique. How, what is the role of the woman and how she struggled, how she crossed history, in fact, since slavery to nowadays, it's important for me. And all these questions are still in my head and during the confined period, it was the case also. It came in a way it cooked all up and it was materialized, even so you were alone and everything came that was lying in the basements and the archaeological levels of our existence. As your young said, you know, when he, when he was dreaming, he said, I've dreamed of my house, first floor and the ground floor and the basement, the basement under the basement and sometimes of the basement under the basement, the prehistoric one and this is all what we carry, but let's tell us a little bit about your theater. You said, this is what I do in my theater. What's your theater? In fact, I was, I was, when I, when I explained my theater, I have to explain my life. So you know, you know, you know a little about my, my culture about Martinique. I was just, I was born in Martinique and my, my mother led me to my grandmother and grandfather to go in France to take some work. So it was a period where a lot of Caribbean, French Caribbean were well, migrated, migrated in France. Migrating? Migrating in France to find work. They went to Paris or where did they go? Yeah, around the suburbs of Paris, Paris and suburbs, principally. And it, and just I was alone with my, my grandmother and then my grandmother flyed with me in France when I was what, I don't know, eight, eight years old. And I, I grown up in, in, in the suburbs of Paris, Paris, Parisian suburbs. And where there were, it was really mixed. It was mixed people from Africa, from China, from, from Algeria, Morocco, all these, these countries, Tunisia, all that. And it was really mixed in the, at school and, and it was really rich for me to, to, to be in the world in fact, to be with the older. Because you learn a lot about yourself when you are with the, the other. And then I do all my education in the, in the, in this region, Parisian region. And when I came at the university, I was learning English a long time ago. So that's why my English is not really good. It's very good. It's very, very good. I was learning English and Spanish at the university. And which university did you go to? I went to the, now it's called Paris 8, Paris 8, Vincennes University was very a militant, militant university. And I learned the languages and that's where I decided to take some, some to teach, to, to learn about African story and Latin American, South America story too. And that's where I really realized this story of slavery, of, wow, the world was really, of this story, story of violence in fact, where, where do, where I come from. In fact, I understand that my story is the, is the story of slavery and violence and, and rape and, and, and economic stuff too. So that's, that's what made me to, made me go to theater because I was wondering why nobody told me about that. I was 22 years old when I, when I understand that my story never, has never been, my, my story I've never been told to me before in the French schools, I didn't know about it. And that's how I say to myself, so if I don't know this story, my mother doesn't know this story, my grandmother doesn't know this story, my fellows don't know this story. I have to make something to, to, to, to share this story, to make people know about that. It's important to know who you are and where you come from. And that's how my first play, I didn't know what, what was theater, in fact, but theater, I think that theater chose me to, to, to, to, to, to share this story, to the other. And that's how I, I, that's how I born, I was born for the second time of my life in, in theater, telling about the, the, the, how my people was born also. And it was a, a sort of revolution in my life, in fact. And, and I write my, my first play, I didn't know what was theater, I know Molière, I know Racine, I know all that people, but this, this didn't really interest me really, really, in fact, when I was young, it was all theater and not really important for me. At this moment, when I understood that I can, I can, I can tell my own story in theater, that, that, that theater become for me something very essential. And that's how I wrote that, that first play about slavery, slavery. The first play was named, was in Creole, in Creole. It was, the name was Neg Pacamo, which means, Neg, Never Die. Neg, Never Die. And it was with about 20 or 30 students from Caribbean, French Caribbean in France, who were in the, who were in the same question with me about who they, they are. They didn't know, some of them did, had never went to the West Indies. They didn't know West Indies. They were born in France and they are living there, but they feel they are different. You, they show us them that they, they were different. There were racism about them, about me too, but they didn't really understand, you know, where this racism came from. And it was important for everyone. It, this, this display transformed everyone of the, of the little troupe who were playing the play. It was something really essential for, for us. It was coming from how roots our, our hearts, you know, very engaged theater and very important for, for, for us. And then, and then this play, for this play, because I didn't know theater, I didn't want to play neither because I was really shy. It's, and I didn't, it's not, it was not possible for me to, to go on the place and to take the, no, I didn't want that. So, but theater shows me, so it decided that I was going to play in the play. So at this moment, I met Luc Saint-Élois, Luc Saint-Élois, don't you, don't that, you know, who's come, who's coming from, is a director who's coming from Guadeloupe and who we met and who came and then direct, direct the, the, the play in fact. And that's how everyone was, was, was doing theater for the first time of their, of their life. And then Luc Saint-Élois decided to, to take three members of the troupe and then make another, another play with them. And I was, and I was, and I was one of them. Also about, in the same theme about, about who we are, about valorizing our songs, our culture. We were, we were doing plays, plays of Amy Césaire. We are doing plays, he was doing plays with the songs of a great musician here in Martinique, whose name is Eugène Mona also. And then doing theater for me was for a long, a long, a long time learning about me, learning about the world and telling the world who I was. Because since the beginnings, Black Theater in France existed. It was existing. There were a troupe whose name was Legriault in the, in the 1950s. There was a theater in Paris whose name was the Black Theater, the Theatre Noir in the 80s. But I didn't really know them because my, my parents didn't go to theater. I didn't really know them. And there was not a lot of ways or places where we can go and watch people looking that have the same appearance, who are Black like me, in fact. The only Blacks I was, I was seeing is the African-American Black people who is playing in the, in the shows, TV shows. That in France, not really a lot of actors, of Black actors, who were, were really visible, in fact. There were Black actors, but they were not visible, they're visible. So it was important for me to make theater, to show us, to show us our story, to recognize us, to recognize our culture, our culture, to valorize who we were. It was important because there are no plays, there are no movies, there are no TV shows where we can see Black Caribbean people in France. Not really a lot, very, not really a lot. And at that time, and I think now a little also, it's important to make productions, to make plays, to play and to make with the Black actors, to tell a story that we know and that we have, it's important for us to tell, to tell about it, to share with the others, but to also to break this heritage of invisibility and forgive who you are, forgive that, no, forgive, don't show your Black, don't show that you have your specific, your French and specific, no, don't show that, no. It was important for me to tell also, OK, we are French, but that's, this is why we are French. This is how we are French. And this is the way we be, we are, and we have the right to live the way we are. It's important. And this is one of the reasons why I do theater, to make representation, to show, in fact, to show us, to make images that allow people to, people and children to see themselves, to project themselves, to dream of themselves, because it's important. It's fundamental, it's essential for that. And I think my theater is that, it's about who we are as people, but as women, as women also. I think two of my plays, Eurikens and Siedewel, La Diabless, are a lot about women, about violence towards women, sexual violence, sexual violence in families, incest, in families, secret silence. How we learn not to, not to speak, not to tell, not to free yourself with saying things. In fact, I understand that we learn silence, we learn not to talk, we learn that. And I was questioning that, and I understood that perhaps that's also from history, because here, we live in a tiny island, and it's important, I think in the colonial period, or slavery period, it was important not to talk a lot, because when you talk too much, talking should be dangerous, in fact. Speaking a lot can be, it can be dangerous or mortal, talking too much can kill you, in fact. And this, I think we have a special way to speak here about, we speak with silence also, I think. With each word, you have a lot of silence besides, I think. It's a big silence. And you have words that come in out like that, but I think silence is very, very important. So it's a sort of culture. And I was, I still question in that, the silence. And when I write, and when I write plays, I also try to write the silence also, important. So in my second play, Uricanes, it's a sort of a familial thriller about a secret family, familial secret, and two women that don't know each other, a night of a hurricane, clothed in a little tiny house that floats with the wind. And then they are searching who they are, in fact. I think that perhaps all my plays talk about that. Who are you? Who are you? You don't know, there are a lot of characters who don't know who they are in my plays, I think. And who are searching who they are. And these two women are searching who they are to search to understand who they are and who they are for each other, one another. And it's about yeah, this violence in the family, because my big, big question is about how the violence of history, because we were born in a sort of violent shock like that, and how these violence continue to irrigate us, to go in our way to be, way to live, way to be with the other, the way to, the mechanism of domination, the sexual domination. And I am wondering a lot about domination in the question of domination and violence in the, in the, after the big story, violence in the big stories, now violence in little stories, in intimate stories also. So in families, in our own bodies too, how violence continued to, to, to, to, to us invade, to inhabit, So how it lives inside you, when you carry it with you? Yeah, you carry it, maybe. We are, I think, there are still the consequences of the big slavery story, you know, in our little stories. And the other play is about La Diabless. La Diabless is a, it was a tale of who my grandma, that my grandma was telling me about a very beautiful lady who are seducing children. Also, she is dangerous for children and seducing also men. And the story tells that when you go with her, because she's very pretty, you can resist to her beauty. When you go after her, she can kill you. It's hard. I was wondering who was that woman, that strong woman who didn't like men like that, men like that. So I decided to write a play about her and it's a way for me to valorize also our traditional culture, our role culture, you understand? Rality, culture, tales culture. And in fact, I was also in display questioning about relationship between men and women and how in our societies to be, how you learn to be a man, how you learn to be a woman and do that match. In fact, how, why there are conflicts between the men and women. And in fact, in that play, I focused more about men. In fact, I still question me, questioning in fact about men with history, with slavery, slavery history and colonialism. Because my question is the question is not, I didn't, I didn't find the, really find the answer because, but I was wondering how the system, this economic politics system oppressed was oppressing men, oppressed the men, in fact, and how they castrate men, in fact, of his power, economic power, political power and how do he live that? What are the consequences of that? And I think that still today, they are still castrated. Because really in Martinique, okay, okay, there are a lot of men and women that have a responsibility in that society. But in fact, we still feel that we are a colonial land of France, a colonial possession of France. But we don't say that, it's not political correct to say that here in Martinique. But a lot of voices tell that, also a lot of people who are telling that. And it's important to realize that, because, you know, during the COVID time, and during the affair of George Floyd here in Martinique, we have a lot of messages on Facebook, for example, showing all the people who are directing big institution here in Martinique, state institution, the big places, the real big places are directed by white men, 50 years old men. There are no black women, there are no black men, there are no Martinican, no way. So, my question is, where are we? Why do we really direct our country, Martinique? I don't think so. So, still now, I was questioning that about the Martinican man, in fact. For me, it's a sort of castration of the economic power of his politic power, of the power of this decision about his country is the same thing for women. And then I was wondering what was the consequences humanly for him about that. And I was wondering if the little places like families, like houses, were not the only place where they can be powerful, they can express their power. And also perhaps their frustration, frustrations. And I connected that with the violence, violence, violences on the women body, on the children body. And La Diabless is also about that. It's also about how we are castrated of ourselves, also. And how it's necessary to, we have an expression here that's coming from slavery is about to maroon. I don't know if you say that to maroon is to fly, to flee, to flee. To make rebellion, in fact, to be different, to go out of the system and to attack the system or to create another way to be, you know, the way to live together and build another way to another society. And La Diabless, in fact, is you have all these messages in it. That is about my theater and now I'm writing a new play. That is a concept that concentrates all this theme also, but the new way, I think I have, I don't really know how to write this play because it's really a new way to write. I don't want to write like the previous plays, because I want to include this invisible world that I was telling you about and make this invisible world communicate with the visible world and to make them work together, make them act together. To reunify them, in fact, that was torn by history. I want to reunify invisible world and make them stronger together, in fact. And I'm questioning about how, okay, slavery don't exist here since a long time ago, but how we integrated the mechanism of domination, of auto-destriction, how we integrate that in our way to live, to be, to have relation with the other. And how this continue to distract them, distract us by inside. And how it's necessary, again, to free ourselves, but another way. A way, not for me. We are free, slavery was abolished here in Martinique and slavery was struggled here in Martinique. Humanly, I question how people manage to live after that, how they build themselves. I don't, I think that this humanity was hurt, profoundly hurt, hurted by history and it's how it's necessary to soignet, to heal, to heal about, to heal, to heal. It's, it's, it's little replay. Yeah, wound or it's, yeah, yeah. And the, and the wound are invisible. They are invisible. It's not easy to, to see them, but it's important. I think that theater poetry can help us to, to Césaire, Emma Césaire was telling, I think that, for, for example, the poetry of the words of Emma Césaire helped a lot to, to, to, to go outside and be, to feel strong, to, to be proud, to, to find that it was really important and, and it's important that art, the arts, arts help people to, to feel themselves better, to see where the wound are Césaire. Hidden. Then, and then to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to, to heal, heal, to heal, to heal, to heal, to heal, to make it right to, to, to, to, to tend to it and, to become healthy. Yeah, this is a, a significant. And there is a last thing that is important for me. It's to contribute to change also the way we see ourselves. Because I think that there's still a little way that we see ourselves not very important people in this world. We are not strong, but I think that to survive to this story, violent story, we had to develop our strengths. We have to develop a lot of skills that helped us to resist, humanly resist of that. And it's important for me not to just to say that, no, no, I'm not a slave. It's a poor slave. It's not very, I'm not proud about this story. No, I'm proud about this story because in fact, I resist. My grandmother and my ancestor resist. And they managed to resist about that. And we are a new population. We are new people. We are young in this world. We managed to create another community with strong influences from Africa, from Europe, but also from India, from China. From all the world is in the Caribbean. The world, the whole world is in the Caribbean. And it makes a very special humanity. And it's important to to value that. So I think arts are very important for that, to show people our skills, to show people our beauty, or not only the beauties. You can see also that there are places in us that are not really shining, that we have to change or to evaluate. I don't know. But it's important for, in fact, out of a central function for me about all that. This is very, very significant what you say and to find out who we are, to make visible what's invisible, to heal what we carry with us in a shadow DNA. And I like your thoughts about silence, that silence helped to survive your antsy. Everyone in your family, they are survivors. As you said, we were strong. We survived. And John Cage said, also, there is no silence. We always hear something, but also as silence speaks. And for your idea to say, I work with that, that's part of my, as Beckett and so many others, that this is the powerful moments in between and in music. And that is significant what you do and what you provide and what you offer. And so also to hear from you, say, I'm writing differently, COVID, the crisis, the virus. So it really changed you or regrounded you or has a profound impact on your life but also on your artistic work. Yes. I think I was, I really was before the COVID in the sort of revolution, but the COVID accelerated. And I think that it's important. I understand that what I was writing was important to be righted at this moment also. But I think that it's important to go to the essential and to connect us with what is essential. Nature, our nature, our roots, our universe, our way to be, the importance to share that and to recognize that each people have the way to be. And it's very, it's very rich for the world to have your unique way to be. We don't have time to, we don't have time. We don't have time to try or to, no, no. It's important to be yourself and to be yourself individually and collectively. And yes, I think this moment connect me stronger again with that essential way to tell about us, to tell about me and to tell about us, to focus on what is essential to say. And what you said about the invisible world and what nations went to war about, whether it's the idea of democracy or religious ideas or love, it's not visible. These are invisible entities and values, but yet they are so important and we don't see them. And I think art and theater especially helps us to do that and everyone has to redefine it and your courageous ideas to say we have to tell the stories we haven't been told. And also, I know that also the stories you then tell also make you put you in danger or you can be attacked, you are up to criticism that perhaps in Germany, France, or in America, in New York will not be as violent, as serious, because they don't mean as much as they do in your context. What do you think about the Black Lives Matter? Is that reaching Jamaica? What does that mean to you and that it happened in Corona time? What does that, is Martinique reacting to that? You already said there are some statements, but what are the? The reaction. Oh, it was really strong. People are very upset about that. They are very sad about that. There were some... ...Rassemblement, the... ...Manifestation. Yeah, demonstrations. Demonstrations here in Fort de France. Yeah. Moments where people wanted to... ...Think about what happened to George Floyd. And this also, this sad story also makes sense with our own story of violence, in fact. I think that it's also that all the movies were telling about apartheid or discrimination in the United States that learned us also that we are discriminated also. But we don't see it the same way in France, because it's soft. So this sad story makes people really sad here. And the demonstrations in Fort de France. And they also show how here again we are... There are a sort of racism. Institutional racism also. Because the institution here are not directed by black people. In France, generally, it's very rare in France. So yes, it's very important for us to demonstrate about that. And we live the strong moments here in Martinique, because the 22 of May is the day of liberation, insurrection, liberation from slavery. And this day, a group of young people decided to tear down a monument. And this monument was the monument of Victor Schelcher, who is the French politician who struggled to impose the abolition of slavery here in Martinique. But this act made a lot of... It was just before the story of George Floyd. So this was a lot of stories who connected one with the other. And this makes a lot of mess here in Martinique. And the politicians were not okay with that. Emmanuel Macron writes a tweet about that, that it's not good to do that, in fact. But we see what happened in Europe. There are a lot of monuments who were down like that. And when this happened, I was very surprised. And then I took my item, I said, but it's normal. It's normal because where are we? There are not a lot of monuments who are celebrating the slaves, the black ones who struggled towards slavery. The big history we want to learn is that it's Victor Schelcher and only Victor Schelcher who abolished slavery. But it's not true. Slaves were rioting on the plantation. They are struggling to impose for slavery to be abolished. And the big history, don't tell us that. There are no monuments here in Martinique who are telling you about this aspect of the history. And the way... What I was telling you at the moment, we raised systematically, we are invisible. Well, just invisible. And that's why this act makes sense, in fact. That doesn't mean Victor Schelcher did not exist. I think that that means where are we? Right, it's not the only one. Where are we? We need to see ourselves. To see ourselves, to consider ourselves like not only heroes, but the actor of our own life or of our own history. There are no place for that. It needs to be represented. So it's time for a monument. I think Brecht said, like many others, history is written by the victory powers. So the victor who has his own monument called Victor. So it's kind of emblematic. And we need to have a representation, as you say, of lives, of events. And it has to be truthful. And it also has to acknowledge suffering and death. And there have to be apologies, real apologies. The country of Australia did a very big national day of mourning and apology to the indigenous people. Everything stood still. And of course, it was, in a way, a more statement. But still, it contributed to healing. I mean, your work is so significant and so important that we were privileged to have you with us with our Caribbean readings. We were also a little bit shocked when we found out that not even in France, there had been a reading series ever of plays from the Caribbean. It was the first one. And we worked together fantastically with the French Cultural Service in New York, with Nicole and Laurent, both of them who also said, you have to have, we have to have Daniela on. And so we did something great here. And I learned so much. We should know more. We should go to the Caribbean or the tourist islands. We should see there, as you said, as a representation of the universe and the idea of something new. Yesterday, Spider Woman said, perhaps we're living in a time of a new mythical creation. Like, they are a creation myth in Native American stories where things develop and you don't know how it will end. That's where we are at the moment. And perhaps, you know, this is what we have to do in theatre as someone Amini, that young Iranian guy who lives in the Netherlands, an actor who did his own plays, he did the tables that I do it because then the white people for an hour and a half, they have to shut up, they have to sit in the seat and they have to listen to what we do, what we have to say. So he is a guy from Iran who worked with black actors. You know, he felt in the Netherlands, we are not represented, we are not there. We are, you know, mistreated. And the country gave him a big chance to come in but also gave him a slap in the face on the same time, which is not easy to deal with. And what is the final observation from you? I wish I had a big garden and I could be in there and take a flower bath, like your grandmother says, you know, we all don't have it. But I think if you can, yes, also yesterday, the spider was like, you know, touch the trees, listen to the birds, put your hand in the earth. But what advice do you give? Let's say a young artist, if it would be Danieli who is in Parivita, so studying young artists or people, our listeners at home, how should they use the time of corona and for artists? What should they do? What should they engage with? What forms, what forms of theater work from your experience in your place? I would tell them to be audacious and to not to take example on what exists, but to go another way, another way. But to conserve, to keep what is essential for me in theater is the, for me, theater have a, in sensual ritual form, it's a form of ritual. We are together, we take one time together around something we share. It's important to have that, to be one with another, to be, to, our flesh is together. Okay, you understand? Absolutely, yeah. Okay, to keep that, the ritual way to make theater because I think that this ritual way make us travel together, to make us transform together, make us walk together, go away together, feel together, connect us together with what is central in ourselves together. And it's this together thing that is magic that make the invisible world, that make this invisible work exist, and that make us feel this invisible way to be because we have all been invisible way to be. But we are not connected with that. And I think that culture of sciences and rationalism make us raise that. And I think it's simply human. And you can separate human from human, is a spiritual way to be also. We have a concrete way to be, but we have also dreaming like to be lifestyle. We have dreams, we work with our dreams. And we can't, it's like a blaspheme or it's like you're abort, abort, abort, yeah, a blaspheme, yeah. Of yourself, abort, yeah. It's important to reconnect with our nature. Nature, I think that this is one of my fantasy or my dream, but this story of COVID make us oblige us, to go back to our unity, our own humanity, to feel, to re-feel who we are, how we live, how we take time to be, how we take time to be with the others or with our family. And it's sad because we lost a lot of people. We lost a lot of people, but I always try to understand what each strong experience have to learn to teach me. I always search that. And I think it's telling me that be yourself and be essential. We don't have time, we don't have time. We are fragile, we can die. It's important to say, to be who you are during your life. Important. It's a big lesson to know, even know about them, to realize, and make it changes even bigger and to implement it, but this is the most significant at why you should give us. And also the idea of the virus is invisible too, right? That's what it takes us. And now we know who we are there. Our skin, outer skin, is the one where we don't want to get the virus too. So what's inside, what's outside? Countries are closed down, we are closed down. We don't see others. So really it is a moment to reflect. And I think all what you said is so significant. It is so important. And for our audiences too, there's something in there that might save our lives and in a time where our lives are a danger. I remember Taylor Mack saying, we survived the AIDS crisis and now a handshake can kill me. Someone sneezed in it and there's protein in it. It's incredible time where we live in and it's good to be facing these questions. We try perhaps to avoid, then really this was most significant. Thank you for taking your time and your energy and sharing that most beautiful assessment and also how you see theater and what you do. And to everybody, yes go and see the Caribbean and go there as a place, not as a tour of the pool there, spend time, engage with it. For us, the week will go on, then really we have to say goodbye, but tomorrow the great Eugenio Barba will be with us. The most significant force also in theater from an experience with Kortalski, he left his studies and with actors who got rejected. The art school says, no, you're not good enough. We don't want you. They said, yes, we are. And we can do our theater and we are artists. And so he created a body of work that's unique and the Odin's Theater you can also check it on. He will tell us tomorrow what this crisis also means for him or what he's thinking about. And it's very generous in kind of him as it is of you. Paul Price, an American actor and director will share as he directed. Yeah. Some play you know about, right? Yes. Our Caribbean Rees, he directed your work. So I thought also this would be a good pairing to have him as a New York artist with us today. And Friday we have Niva Yatzi from Syria. She lives in Berlin. She's a writer, a poet, also writes a television series. And what does it mean to be a young woman, a writer from Syria, not with your home and trying to make sense out of this world? She wrote a play about goats where the Syrian government gives a family where a young man died a goat. What does that mean? What do we live in? What are those times? So I can't wait also to hear from her. Thanks for howl round for hosting us. B.J. and Sia and Travis. It's wonderful that you give us the time and support the Segal team and the Ensign Young. And to you listeners especially, we went also a bit over time but it was important to hear these voices from the Caribbean, French Caribbean voices and their history and how they are also connected to the bigger stories we are experiencing and now this awakening that is happening about that slavery that is so prominent and as Danieli said, is in our shadow DNA and we have to become aware of it. We don't see it, it's there and it's hurtful. It makes us sick. It makes us sick not to tell the stories. It makes us sick not to hear those stories and theater can help towards the healing. And so all of your audience for taking the time and listening is important that she knows Danieli people are interested and they care and we do care and mankind does care for each other and especially the artistic communities around the world echo your stories and this was an important contribution. So really thank you all for listening this time. That's so busy for everybody strangely enough and stay all safe and stay tuned in and hope to see you again and Danieli all my best and one day I'll come and see the garden of your grandmother. So I will be there one day. Okay. Bye-bye. Thank you. Bye-bye.