We speak to Carme Portaceli, Artistic Director of the Teatre Nacional de Catalunya (TNC), and one of the most influential voices in contemporary theatre. Her career, marked by commitment and critical sensibility, brings us closer to a profound reflection on the Mediterranean and the role of theatre in times of change. Her words echo the voices of women, the power of humour in the face of adversity, the tragedies that plague the region, and the shared resilience that defines its imaginary.

QM: From your perspective as Artistic Director of the TNC, how can theatre play a part in the construction or deconstruction of Mediterranean identity?

The theatre is, above all, the place where we must be together; if we’re not together, it doesn’t exist. It’s the only place where we share air, breathe together, and look at each other. And in that collective act, we discover that other worlds are possible.

The Mediterranean has always been a world of water and light, of reaching out and sharing. We come from there, from an extraordinary mix of cultures − Arab, Jewish, Christian − that coexisted for centuries. But over time, that diversity narrowed: monotheistic religions expelled the mother goddess, expelled the feminine, and with that, much of the tolerance was lost. What remains today is almost a myth, an idealised image, while reality is marked by terrible wars and hatreds instilled from childhood.

That’s why theatre plays such an important role: it allows us to remember where we come from and reclaim coexistence, democracy and diversity. Culture unites, culture creates tolerance, culture fosters coexistence. In the face of the manipulation and lies that surround us, the theatre remains one of the few spaces where you can still look at others and discover that they are like you.

QM: What does theatre tell us about this Mediterranean full of contrasts?

Theatre reminds us that this sea is simultaneously tragedy and humour, pain and celebration, memory and oblivion. It is not a uniform or harmonious space, but a complex and contradictory mosaic. And in that complexity lies its true strength. The only myth worth preserving is that of tolerance. And theatre, with its ability to bring us together and give a voice to those who have been silenced, is the best tool to keep that myth alive and make it pertinent to our time.

QM: What new narratives do the artists of the Mediterranean propose today? Can we speak of a theatrical language that expresses a common sensibility in the region? 

They tell us about very hard contradictions: wars, exiles, censorship, the destruction of Lebanon, the occupation of Palestine, the difficulties of Egypt or Syria. But they express all of this with something that is profoundly Mediterranean: a sense of humour, the ability to narrate tragedies, and to survive by celebrating life. This mix of pain and vitality is what characterises us.

The Mediterranean character lies in this way of being on stage and relating to the audience: even in the darkest moments, humour emerges as a form of resistance. As does the ability to transform harshness into art. Think of Palestinian, Lebanese or Tunisian artists who, despite censorship or working with almost no resources, continue to create with immense energy. This unites us, allows us to recognise one another, and reminds us that our common identity is made up of tragedy, humour and resilience.

QM: Which creators do you consider essential today in order to understand it, especially among those you have worked with?

The current Mediterranean scene is extraordinarily powerful and diverse. I think of Chrystele Khodr, who explores memory and violence through a highly personal approach; the Lebanese group Zoukak, whose strength lies in energy and collective creation; Bashar Murkus and Hulood Basel, who from Palestine put on stage the tensions of identity and occupation; Laila Soliman, who from Egypt lucidly sets out recent history; or creators like Bissan Al Sharif and Nanda Mohammad, who are blazing trails from Syria and Egypt. And Afsaneh Mahian, from Iran, with her deeply committed work. 

They are all part of a vibrant network of artists who, despite difficult circumstances, continue to create. Many have premiered plays with us or in European festivals, and together they weave a Mediterranean theatrical mosaic that reflects the complexity, wounds and vitality of our region.

QM: In many of these countries, artists work in very difficult conditions, with censorship or without institutional support. How does this impact the way theatre is done in the region?

It’s essential to understand this. Think, for example, of Palestinian artists who work “without two pennies to rub together”, without any government support. Or of a Lebanese actress like Hanane Hajj Ali, who performs her monologue Jogging for free in Beirut to avoid censorship, and later in Europe to great acclaim. This precariousness marks her theatre, of course, but it also imbues it with strength and authenticity. 

That’s why building a Mediterranean cultural network is so important: because it allows these voices to travel, to find an audience and recognition that is often denied to them in their own countries.

QM: How is the TNC implementing this effort to open theatre to the Mediterranean?

We’re doing this by building a Mediterranean cultural network. It’s a project that connects cities like Marseille, Montpellier, Athens, Cairo, and Barcelona, and allows us to look south and east, not just toward Europe. Public theatre must play this role: opening doors, shining a spotlight on artists who create under very difficult conditions, and bringing their voices to our stages.

Programming isn’t a simple act: it requires a philosophical foundation that lends coherence to what we present. Our work at the TNC is just that: forging connections, giving meaning to diversity, and transforming the theatre into a meeting place where we can collectively reimagine the Mediterranean.

QM: Theatre can rewrite silenced stories, and in the Mediterranean that urgency becomes even more palpable. Throughout your career, you’ve rescued overshadowed female voices. How does this search connect with your perspective on the Mediterranean?

I’m currently working on Maria Magdalena, a much-loved project that we will premiere in January 2026 at the TNC’s Sala Gran. Mary Magdalene was reduced to the figure of a prostitute, when in fact she was a spiritual leader of early Christianity. This falsification has been with us for centuries and has erased the strength of a woman who came from the Mediterranean and transmitted a spiritual tradition fundamental to our Western culture.

Recovering it means recovering the voice of women, systematically erased from written history. And here theatre plays an irreplaceable role: it is the place where we can bring together the oral traditions passed on by women, those stories that never made it into books because they were written by men, and return to them their rightful place. The myth of the Mediterranean cannot be written without these female voices. Theatre allows us to collectively rewrite what was denied to us and reconnect with a profound memory that continues to pulsate on this shore.