I’m interested in human nature and that which moves people to act, sometimes, in strange ways in certain situations. In my writing I try to explore those dark corners of the individual, to delve into their fears, their obsessions, their desires, always from a recognizable context, in which the spectator can feel themselves identified, but leaving a space for the imagination and the poetic. My writing is visceral, because I like to talk about what hurts: about pain, about loneliness, about death, about violence, because those are my fears and also the fears of all of us.
Fabulamundi involved Marilia Samper in activities in Bucharest and in Heilderberg.
Born in Sao Paolo, Brazil, in 1974, of a Brazilian mother and Sevillian father. After living in various countries, when she was twelve years old she came to live permanently in Spain. She spent her entire adolesence in Andalusia and it was there that she began to enter the world of the theater. She studied acting at the Instituto del Teatro of Seville, and worked with various Sevilian companies, such as Viento Sur Teator, La Matrona, and the Andalusian Theater Center. Almost by chance, she begins to write. With her first texts winning prizes and being published, she comes to Barcelona in 2001 and gets a degree in Stage Direction and Theater Arts from the Institut del Teatre. Since then, she has developed her career as an author and director, and has been performed on the most-emblematic stages of Barcelona.
2013 / Pequeños Monstruos; first staged: July 12, 2013, in Nau Ivanow, within the program of the Festival Grec in Barcelona.
2012 / Udol; first staged: July 3, 2012, Teatre Lliure; Festival Grec of Barcelona.
2012 / L’ombra Al Meu Costat; first staged: May 3, 2012; Proyecto T6. Teatre Nacional de Catalunya; published by Arola editors (2012).
2010 / Dos Punkis y Un Vespino; first staged: November 2011, Teatre Gaudí, Barcelona. Award for staging from the Institut del Teatre in Barcelona for the best text spectacle.
2009 / Pleasure And Pain; first staged: September 2011, in the Sala Beckett.
2006 / Un Verdadero Cowboy; first staged: August 2011, Porto Alegre, Brazil, published: Editora da Cidade, 2008. Prêmio Carlos Carvalho. Vol. 1/ Concurso Nacional de dramaturgia: 6 – Porto Alegre. Juan de Timoneda Prize for Theater in Spanish in the XXIV edition of the Ciutat de Valencia Literary Prize 2006. 2º prize in the VI Carlos Carvalho National Playwrighting Prize of Porto Alegre (Brasil).
2004 / La orilla perra del mundo; first staged: 2005, Teatro del Común Company; published by Ediciones Akal, S.A. (2008).
2002 / Menú del día; first staged: September 2007, Sala Sarobe of Urnieta, Basque Country, published: Ñaque Editora, 2003. 1st runner up of the Miguel Romero Esteo Award for young Andalusian authors, 1st runner up of the Marqués de Bradomín National Award for Young Playwrights.
2001 / 405; first staged: 2001, Central Theater of Seville; published: Ñaque Editora, 2002. 1st runner up of the Miguel Romero Esteo Award for young Andalusian authors. 1st runner up of the Marqués de Bradomín National Award for Young Playwrights.
– Sombras (Shadows) –
Synopsis: Three families marked by loss: A married couple which falls apart after the disappearance of their adolescent daughter; a father and son unable to communicate because of the absence of the mother; an elderly couple whose happiness is threatened by the thought of losing one another. Wracked by pain, anguish, and uncertainty, they confront as best they can their particular tragedy, but little by little their lives will intersect until they blend into the same story: that of Alba, lost in the thickness of the forest, and her own journey through horror and salvation.
– Extracts from Sombras (Shadows) –
THE MOTHER: Do you know who Alba is?
The Stranger nods.
THE MOTHER: Do you know where she is?
The Stranger shakes his head, in silence.
THE MOTHER: How do you know her?
THE STRANGER: They asked me about her. The Police.
THE MOTHER: And what did you tell them?
THE STRANGER: That I never saw her.
THE MOTHER: Why is it said that you know what happened to her?
The Stranger shrugs his arms.
THE MOTHER: Now it is her mother who is asking you.
THE STRANGER: (After a silence) I’m very sorry, Ma’am.
THE MOTHER: You never spoke with her?
THE STRANGER: No.
THE MOTHER: You never saw her?
THE STRANGER: No.
THE MOTHER: You never ran into her on the street, or walking along the highway?
THE STRANGER: No.
THE MOTHER: She was walking along the path that runs beside the forest. At night. That’s the last we know of her. You live in the forest, isn’t that right?
THE STRANGER: Yes.
Silence. Both of them look at one another.
THE MOTHER: Let’s go.
THE MAN: What?
THE MOTHER: There’s nothing for us here.
THE FATHER: What did you say?
THE MOTHER: This man has nothing to do with it.
THE FATHER: You’re going to believe anything this guy says to you?
THE MAN: He’s fooling all of us. Does he think we’re idiots, or what?
THE MOTHER: He says he knows nothing.
THE FATHER: And that’s it? I’m not going to give up like this, just when the possibility of finally knowing what happened to Alba appears. And I’m not going to settle for an “I don’t know anything” and that’s it.
The two men quickly confront the Stranger.
THE FATHER: You’re going to tell me what you’re doing around here and what you know about my daughter. Because you’ve seen her. You’re not going to fool me.
THE MAN: Where is the girl?
THE FATHER: Where do you have her?
THE STRANGER: I don’t.
THE MAN: Don’t play the fool with us because we’re going to put the screws to you. And you won’t have it easy, do you hear me?
THE FATHER: Look me in the face. Tell me what you have to do with what happened to my daughter.
THE MAN: That girl was born in this town. We saw her grow up. And we’re not going to shut up. We’re going to find her whatever it takes.
THE MOTHER: You’re making a mistake.
THE FATHER: (To his wife). Don’t but in now. Please, don’t but in. Let me take care of this.
THE MOTHER: Take care of what? Taking out your anger on some poor wretch who doesn’t have anything to do with it?
THE MAN: Nothing ever happened here before. The kids come in and go out and nothing ever happened. But this stranger shows up and your daughter disappears. Are you going to believe his word over the evidence itself?
THE MOTHER: He can’t even deal with his own soul. Look at him. It’s impossible for him to have been able to do anything.
THE FATHER: You see things your way and want all of us to see them just like you do. But I need for this man to explain to me, for him to tell me everything he knows about Alba.
THE MOTHER: He has nothing to tell you. It’s there, in his eyes. You can find the whole truth there.
The Father looks at The Stranger. He takes a deep breath, before starting to speak.
THE FATHER: I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know if you can understand what it’s like not to know anything about someone you love. I don’t know anything about my daughter. If she’s alive or… I don’t know. And there is nothing worse. Nothing. I’m asking you… I beg of you to tell me anything that can help me find her. Anything. I don’t care about anything else. I don’t care what you’ve done. Just tell me what you know. Something. Whatever it is, so I can bring her home.
The Father waits, anxiously, for a reply. The stranger looks at him, frightened and moved. The Mother takes her husband by the arm.
THE MOTHER: Let’s go home.
The Stranger looks at her.
THE STRANGER: I’m very sorry.
She places a hand on his shoulder. The Stranger collects his bags and gets ready to leave.
THE MAN: Don’t you go near any of our kids again. And you watch out for yourself. Next time there’ll be more of us who come to talk with you.
THE MOTHER: Leave it be already.
THE MAN: I’ll tell you what should be done with that kind of trash.
THE MOTHER: Let’s not be so stupid to accuse the one who comes from outside when the guilty party might be one of us.
THE MAN: Are you serious? Nobody from here could have done anything bad to Alba. You shouldn’t mistrust any of us.
THE MOTHER: There is no longer anyone in whom I can trust now.