Love Me, the latest work to date by Marina Otero, which she wrote with Martin Flores Cárdenas, came after Fuck Me, also on the programme for this year’s Festival de Otoño. After sex, love. Sex is body. Love is not so much the body as time. The opposite of strength. Care. The entire creative process of Fuck Me took place in bed, but not because Marina was fucking (fornicating, screwing, bonking, banging) nonstop, but because she was in hospital after having surgery for a serious injury on her spinal column.

Love Me is also a farewell to Buenos Aires and in this double movement of uprooting and searching for old family roots on another continent, a double reading or two ways of reading violence is revealed. One is related to the violence done by her own great-grandfather, who hit his wife and, to not end up killing her, as Marina says, he left her and returned to Spain to die here alone. Another is the violence of migratory movements, all of those heartaches, bitterness, hatreds, injustices that fertilise tense relationships, that show how difficult it is for human beings to get along with others who are like them and not.