Pablo Gisbert

Pablo Gisbert (Valencia, 1982). After attending the Philosophy Faculty in Valencia, he studied drama and directing in Madrid. Later, in 2011, he got a degree in drama from the Institut del Teatre in Barcelona. In 2011, he was runner up in the Marqués de Bradomín National Prize and in 2013 he won the Sebastià Guasch prize in Barcelona for his theater work in the dance company La Veronal, with which he has worked since 2005 and which currently presents his work on a national and international level. Pablo Gisbert presents his own creations with his company El Conde de Torrefiel, a stage project that fluctuates between theater and dance, presenting his pieces at various spaces and festivals in Spain and Europe.

Theatrography

2010 / La historia del rey vencido por el aburrimiento: first staged: November 2010, Barcelona
2011 / Un cine arde y diez personas arden: first staged: June 2011, Barcelona; published: INJUVE, Madrid (2011).
2011 / Observen cómo el cansancio derrota al pensamiento: first staged: October 2011, Madrid.
2013 / Escenas para una conversación después del visionado de una película de Michael Haneke: first staged: March 2012, Barcelona; published: Teatron.Tinta, Barcelona (2013).

– Un cine arde y diez personas arden –
– selected text for The dangerous opportunity –

Synopsis: Ten people enter a revival cinema house, the theater begins to burn and they meet their death. Before dying, they will have time to be able to question some significant issues.

– Un cine arde y diez personas arden –

– I’ve been reading the final line that Raymond Carver wrote and it’s made me think a lot. We spend our lives thinking about the same thing. Spend an entire life needing to be loved. Most of us who’ve had a marvelous childhood, want to return to it urgently. Those of us who’ve had a marvelous childhood spend the rest of our lives wanting to return to being loved, we spend the rest of our lives needing to again be loved. It can be seen in our faces. It’s something subtle, a little bit in our way of looking and another bit in our way of explaining things. If one person has had a marvelous childhood and crosses in the street with another person who has had a marvelous childhood, they glance at one another and recognize one another immediately. The problem, the real problem, is that those who had a miserable childhood, those who have not been loved before, in short, what is known as having a bad time, these people only have an urgent desire that goes before all other desires: the desire to grow up as soon as possible and to begin to control everything they have not controlled until then. All these people need to control. They have suffered so much and in such a way that the possibility of returning to childhood terrifies them, that possibility of not controlling. Meanwhile, those of us who only want to be loved, we see them coming: enjoying our own lie. And that’s why things work as they do, in the most perverse fashion possible. Those who have lived a horrific childhood rule over us. They have us, it is said, absolutely controlled. They do with us what they will. Because we, those of us who have had a marvelous childhood, are, in short, completely given up to the idea of love. And more specifically, and as the years pass, we abandon ourselves completely to the idea of indifference. Because when we are inside the idea of love, when we have already achieved that a person loves us, which is the only thing we really want, only then do we begin to see how terrifying indifference can be, and we become absolutely obsessed and, in short, completely maddened by the idea of losing what we’ve attained. And the days go past us, our entire life passes fearing the disappearance of love. And while this happens, while we talk, chew, excel, worship, sleep, decorate, fuck, fall sick and demand, and as this happens, those others hate us absolutely and spend their lives controlling us. Don’t ever trust the president of your country. Don’t ever trust your boss. Don’t ever trust a policeman. Don’t ever trust any person who seeks authority. Don’t ever trust them because they hate us, they hate people like us who walk like blind men needing to be loved. But most important of all, it’s that for us, those of us who have had a marvelous childhood, we don’t care at all about that. We spend our lives trying to read something that overwhelms us. We spend our lives looking for someone who unsettles us with their surprising personality. Our lives looking for something that moves us. Our entire life trying to be calm. Our entire life in search of beauty or what remains of it or what we imagine beauty must be. And I tell you, definitively, that I just want someone to love me and when I’m about to die, to know that someone, just one person out of the 6,000 million people that are in the world, I just want, I say, for someone to have truly loved me. That same idea, the need for love, surpasses our own death. This idea surpasses Hell and Paradise. This ideas surpasses the very idea of God. This need to go out into the street, to be remembered, to construct one’s own story, of being loved is, in short, the will to never die.