Theater of the Little Island of Freedom

I have often spoken about theater, saying it is like a hemophilic body that loses its blood when faced with reality. I spoke of a theater that is like a refuge of freedom, a floating island, or a fortress filled with air. I said that theater is like a boat rowing against the wind; yet it remains still, like a third shore on a river. It’s about theater that is like a house with two doors, one for entry and another for escape. About theater that is like the presence of a people in an empty, futile ritual; theater that, like a pirate ship, takes us on an adventurous journey of experience and history. About theater that is like a wall compelling us to stand tall and see what happens behind it; about theater that is like an exchange, like extravagance and generosity, like migration and nomadism. All these are metaphors for the idea that theater does not intend to transcend its existence, theater that gains its values in pursuing freedom, in its theatrical function.