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)