While the world is witness to Trump willing to build a wall, to Spanish Vox ruling Andalusia and, in Brasil, to Balsonero asking for boys to get worn in blue and girls in pink, and a long et cetera, we celebrate 30 years of artistic trayectory. Less innocent and more aware of the world where performing arts must survive, staring at daily events around, those happenings that move us, more than ever.

30 years dreamming stories and connecting with audiences, face to face. 30 years during which our hair goes grey and our bones hurt but, unfortunately, we haven’t found the keys for teleportation or for authomatic loading and unloading of the van.

Now, we can only look back for reminding who we are and for never forgetting it. Now, let’s see where it goes, the trip that we began in 1989. It’s time to keep on walking because as Benedetti said, we are fucked up and radiant, more first than second, and also viceversa.

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