Translator: Margarita Kiseleva
Reviewer: Martin Bermudez Up until a few weeks ago,
I was a producer and an actress in a project that's really
important for my career not only because of its artistic value, but because I conceived it
as a way of saying, "Fernanda wants to say this to the world." But why does it matter what Fernanda Castillo
wants to say to the world? Who am I? Why are my words important? Why are you going to care
about what I want to say? A couple of days ago, as Manuel said,
I arrived at the airport. It was 1am so, in truth,
I was more asleep than awake. I arrived and went up to the lady
at the check-in counter. I was kind of falling asleep
while I was giving her my papers, and I heard her telling me, "Was it hard to get to where you are now?" Honestly, I was thinking, "It's my second flight in 24 hours. I'm afraid of not being able
to fit into my dress when I get to New York. I haven't eaten, and I haven't slept." And I, who am usually
quite talkative, just answered, "Yes, it was hard." (Laughter) And then she said, "But it was worth it, right? You enjoy it. Because I'm here, behind this counter, and I hate what I do. I always wanted to study performance art, but I was afraid of starving to death." And her words woke me up. Honestly, I said, "What a shame that
I am complaining in my head without appreciating the fact that
I can do what I love most in life, as many of us do here, while many others don't have this chance." So without thinking, I told her, "Many times during my career
I wasn't able to pay the rent. And now I'm proud that I didn't let
the obstacles impede me. So, overcome your fear, leave this place,
and do what you really like, because even if
you end up starving to death, you'll somehow enjoy it." She thanked me, gave me
my documents, and smiled. And I was so proud
for having told her what I thought. I spent the next five hours
of flight time thinking, "Oh my god - what if I've just
messed up her life?" (Laughter) "What if she really follows my advice?" Or maybe not. No one changes their life because of
some random person's words at 1am at the airport. But then I started thinking, "But if she shared something
so personal with me, then maybe I'm not
some random person to her. Maybe I'm Mónica Robles to her. So, maybe she does care." And then I realized that I have a voice. I have a voice because I'm being heard. And I was struck by fear. (Laughter) What a great responsibility to have. Human beings have always sought art
as a way to identify themselves. And it's no coincidence that art has accompanied
great revolutions and social movements during every time period,
in all countries. There have always been artists who weren't content with
just looking at things from afar and say what they were told to say, or think what they were told to think, and instead, they think what they want
and put their thoughts into their art. They never care if they are going
against the system. So they always impact the world. Throughout all of history. I'm talking about artists like
Victor Hugo, who wrote "Les Misérables"; like García Lorca in Spain; like Émile Zola; writers like Pablo Neruda and his poetry; artists like Pablo Picasso
and his painting "Guernica"; artists like Diego Rivera
and his mural at Rockefeller Center. I'm talking about musicians
like John Lennon, Joan Baez, Pablo Milanés,
Silvio Rodríguez; musicians of our day like Bebe, who sings about violence
committed against women; like Calle 13, who speak their mind; like Pink, who wrote a song
addressing Bush, asking him how he could sleep at night, knowing that he was sending
soldiers to war. These rebellious artists
have always existed. These artists are committed
to their ideas, they defend them and impact
the world to which they belong. I have an influence, too. I am, in a way, an educator of society, whether consciously or not. Because with what I do,
with the way I act and think, I guide people who look up to me, although it's not my goal. Again, it's scary, right? Because I can be impacting people's lives
while just eating sweet potatoes, without even realizing it. I can be acting like a fool
and still impact lives. So if I have a voice and I'm being heard, I better be saying something
worth listening to and that changes lives. While preparing for this conference, I stumbled upon a post
which was very painful to read, but that I think has a lot of truth to it, so I would like to share it with you. "Unfortunately, the word
'responsibility' is out. People are afraid of thinking. To think or to feel critically
is seen as making a big deal about things. To speak out against something is not cool. I would even say that reacting,
in general, is frowned upon. Nowadays, you're cool
if nothing affects you, you don't care about anything, and you don't disapprove of anything. This is the way young artists think. If you disapprove of something,
you're judging, you're casting the first stone. So you end up adopting
a corporate behavior that's politically correct. It's super passive and cowardly, but it's disguised as something
cool and respectful." I'm sorry, but I don't think
that artists can be bohemians, separated from reality, indifferent to reality, without purpose. Quite the opposite. An artist is meant to be
a messenger of reality. And something even scarier:
the artist is also a message. What I mean by that is,
we not only have an impact on the people who see the roles or projects
from our acting career. We also influence people
by the way we think and act. That's terrifying! I think it was the fine print
in the "I want to be an artist" contract, which many "artists" I know signed, without even being aware of it. I was aware of this mission
from a very early age. I know that I have a responsibility
as an actress and a public person to be part of social movements
in my country, because if I march to demand answers, together with the parents
of the ABC Childcare tragedy, if I question the government, then the people who follow me
will know that I care, and they'll know something
even more important, that they can do it, too;
they can question things. If I exercise my freedom
of expression on social networks, if I support minorities, if I share my failures and flaws
with the people who follow me, then I'm giving people who admire me
a lesson in courage. Likewise, I try to do it
not only as a person, but also through my projects. I think the characters choose you,
in a metaphysical way - not through casting, but by choosing
someone who will represent them by doing a good job at conveying
an important message. I've portrayed good women and bad women, I've portrayed Daniela Montalvo
in "Distilling Love," who defended her beloved,
who is black-skinned, from discrimination by her family. I portrayed a completely naïve
and insecure woman in "Teresa," as Luisa de la Barrera. I portrayed a woman committed
to love and friendship in the musical "Today, I Can't Get Up,"
during the "Madrid" number. I played Elisa, a woman who realizes the value of her life
when she starts her fight against cancer. I am grateful to all these roles
that I had during my career. But four years ago, I had the chance
to portray a risky character. It was risky because it was Mónica Robles. She's a drug dealer. What might people think that says
about my social conscience? People usually challenge me, "But you're encouraging young people
to become drug dealers!" And portraying this character
challenges me to say, "I can't agree that if she's
a drug dealer, therefore she is evil." I have to say, "This woman is a product
of the environment she grew up in. She is a woman who makes decisions
and lives with those consequences." And if we don't want to have
more Mónica Robleses or drug dealers, we have to change the world
where our children are growing up so they don't grow up
to be people like that, and then drug-dealing won't exist. Or government corruption. This is a foundation. I have to portray this character as a human being
that everyone can understand. And this character connects me
to the audience in a different way. Mónica Robles becomes a symbol of strength for all women on social media, not only as a feminist character, but also as someone who lives by, "I will not cower
in the face of life's difficulties," who inspires both men and women. It was after all the blessings
this character brought me, that one day it dawned on me, "Great things are happening to me,
and I have to return this light." So I think - well, I didn't create it at all,
because someone else wrote it, Jorge Acebo, an Argentinean
playwright and director, "Wake Up Woman," that's where it comes from. This project is a play
that deals with gender violence, which, unfortunately,
is often a taboo subject, because we've gotten used to
it being shameful to talk about, and we only hear about it on the news. It's about Natalia and Frederico, two characters who love each other deeply,
who have a love story, but end up being
in a destructive relationship. The play makes us wonder: Why do we love the way we do? Why haven't we learned to love well? Why don't stories of violence
ever begin with, "Hello, how are you?
Nice to meet you." Slap! No, they always start with love and charm, and then people show their true colors. So while on the journey
of making "Wake Up Woman," which I did with Erik Hayser - who, just to complicate things,
is also my partner in real life, so the fights we had onstage
were between real partners - we were determined to say, "We have to tell people
that they need to think about violence within their homes, lives
and within themselves." "Wake Up Woman" was a project
filled with violence, sacrifice, and pain on a stage. And I can assure you that it
was nearly as painful to do it offstage. But there wasn't a single performance where Eric and I didn't
get up on that stage and put our bodies and souls into it, because we had a commitment
to tell the public, "Maybe someone
sitting here watching the play is dealing with violence in their life, and maybe this play will make them think. Perhaps a woman will say,
'I won't let anyone abuse me ever again.' Or maybe a mother will bring her kids
to watch the play and tell them, 'Look how situations of violence unfold.
Be careful when socializing.'" I think that this project
has become so important to me because it greatly impacted
the people who watched it. I believe that an artist is someone
who serves a greater goal, who has a mission, who has an impact on others,
wakes them up, makes them conscious; someone who, from their trenches,
changes the world. "Artist" is a very big word. And, to be honest, I struggle every day, and I keep chasing the honor
of calling myself an artist, just as I dreamed in my childhood. To conclude, I would like
to share with you an anecdote which always reminds me
that kids are very wise. I was very wise at the time, and then
God knows what happened to me. My mission was always clear to me. When I was eight years old,
my parents got divorced. I think I never fully realized how much anxiety, pain
and sadness it caused. I thought that I needed to be mature and support my parents
in the process - at the age of eight. Thank God, my parents realized
that I was eight and they said, "She doesn't need to be mature.
I think this is hurting her, and we need to support our daughter." So every two weeks,
they would take me to the theater, which was something I really enjoyed. During one of the most
difficult phases of the divorce, my mom took me to the theater. When I walked out of the play,
there were actors and dancers nearby. I told mom, "I want to do that, mama." And mom asked, "What do you want to do?
Dance and perform onstage?" And I said, "No. I want to make people
forget about their sadness. Because that lady made me forget that you guys are getting divorced." If I, Fernanda Castillo,
with the work that I do, can make someone forget their pain
or become conscious of it, if I can change someone's mind or make them think,
"Why do I think the way I do? Why do I feel the way I do? Why do I do what I do?" then it means that
I am impacting their life. And this is my commitment, and this is the voice I want to have. Thank you very much. (Applause) Thank you. (Applause)
