The basilica bell commandingly signalled the beginning of the conversation. It was 5 o’clock on a sunny Friday afternoon. Sitting at a café table in Lisbon’s Jardim da Estrela, São José Lapa, actress and stage director, stood out among the trees tinted orange by the slow ending of the day. Like a «dazzling blonde», she joked. And that’s where we stayed, for almost an hour, rocked by laughter, words and memories. Of the girl and of the woman. Of the mother and of the actress. Of the mentor of Espaço das Aguncheiras cultural cooperative, where she shares one of her great passions with her daughter, Inês Lapa Lopes. Culture is in their mouths, under their skin, in their souls, in their hearts.
What brought you to the world of theatre?
My debut in the theatre was with my mother. She was a piano teacher for many years, at a private school. And she used to do these famous Christmas shows. The first time I ever put my feet on a stage was when I played a shepherdess. My parents sang in the Choir of the São Carlos National Theatre – they belonged to the National Broadcasting Company choir –, and you just get used to it. People are born into their environment – there are many people who are born outside their environment and do extraordinary artistic things – but here the ‘broth’ was already made. Now, how did I get started? I never wanted to be an actress; it wasn't something I dreamed of. My sister [Fernanda Lapa] took her first steps in theatre with the Fernando Pessoa Group. She was about 18 and my parents would only let her go to rehearsals if she went with me. So, I suffered theatre stuff you wouldn’t imagine. Interesting performances, less interesting things, but it was my school. The first things I did were in 1971 with my sister, namely a play by Almada Negreiros (Deseja-se Mulher), and then, from then on, it was complete unconsciousness. I thought: «This is easy, after all!» (she laughs).
So, you didn’t want to be an actress?
No, no. I wanted to be so many things. I wanted to go away... as I did, to London... It was supposed to be a year, but after a month I left.
Why, didn’t you adapt?
Because it is very hard to work (she guffaws). And it was well done for me to understand what it was. I was looking after babies in an aunts’ and uncles’ house with a lot of money. They had three unbearable children (she laughs) and at night I wanted to go out clubbing. And I did, but in the morning, I had to get up at 6.30. and that was a nightmare. After a month I met a very well-known musician from home, João Maló, who’s really lovely, and we even went and smoked some pot... Yes, we smoked from time to time, and we stole the milk, because they would leave milk at the front door there. I was 19 years old! At that time, João had a friend who was coming to Portugal. In the morning, the lady was coming back from taking the children to school, and I was stood with my bags at the door. I told her: «I’m leaving». She was gasping. It was horrible. Firstly, I’d puffed up with food there, it wasn’t a good fit. Secondly, I realised that I had to study, I was a cheat, I had to study if I wanted to do anything real. When I came back, I went to study and then I took the course at the National Conservatory.
«The first time I ever put my feet on a stage was when I played a shepherdess»
You were free all your life...
Exactly, exactly!
But when you realised, you already had a career...
Yes, when I enrolled in the Conservatory it was by choice. The degree course in theatre studies was already above average and there were some very interesting people in my year. Unfortunately, I was the only one who stayed on as an actress (she laughs). The rest of us went into politics, like Sampaio da Nóvoa, Jorge Fraga, who’s in Viseu, and a few others. It was what it was. And then I was invited to be resident actress at the D. Maria II National Theatre, and that's what got me through.
Were there many obstacles for women at that time?
There were half a dozen women, not many more. Lovely people. Girls connected to the intellectual and artistic intelligentsia, who met at the São Carlos. Small groups. Some connected to politics, others less so. I was somewhat unaware politically. I was aware that the dictatorship existed and that people were imprisoned and tortured. I was aware that women were absolutely oppressed by men, there were no rights, you couldn’t go out, but I didn't have an effective political attitude.
And did you realise that you blazed a trail for those who came after?
No, things are what they are. It’s by contact, by osmosis, that society changes, and society did change. People gave interviews, things were and are discussed.
«I really like to be in my little house doing my little things, at Espaço das Aguncheiras»
But do you have any idea what you are for the country and what you represent for the people?
No (she laughs). And I don’t believe in it either, because things change very quickly. I have a very real sense of existence. If I do things well from an ethical perspective, which is what matters to me, that’s fine. I really like to be in my little house doing my little things, directing shows, performances, gatherings and exhibition at Espaço das Aguncheiras. Everything with my daughter, Inês Lapa Lopes and other cooperators.
Is that your real passion?
Exactly. And why is that? Maybe it comes from the shepherdess (she laughs). And not only that. We had some very rich aunts on my father’s side. Really rich. The stupid cows left us nothing. Nothing. They spent everything (she guffaws). So, we spent the summer between Estoril and Caxias, where aunts Teresa and Júlia had their houses.
At that time there were half a dozen houses in Estoril. My sister used to play with that idiot who now kills elephants, the Spaniard, Juan Carlos, because they were stranded there. Then, in September, we’d go to my grandmother's house, also a teacher, in Beiras. So, this was always a mix, and reality was always shown in two colours, which is interesting, because you get a sense of things. And that’s how life was. You can talk about the Espaço das Aguncheiras, daughter...
Inês Lapa Lopes, São José Lapa’s daughter, joins the conversation...
Inês Lapa Lopes (ILL): Keeping Espaço das Aguncheiras going is the hardest thing. It all began in 2006. São José found that wonderful space, fell in love with it and wanted to have it...
São José Lapa (SJL): Let me just give you some context... And then my daughter saw that her mother was mourning the theatre, because I had left the National Theatre, and she said «Oh, mum, you have to do something, oh mum...»
ILL: And we did. Just that, at the beginning, we were deviating into things that were not our field. We had a course in biodynamic farming, but the truth is it wasn’t our field. And so we took a step backward and in 2006 we did A Midsummer Night's Dream.
SJL: That was something... There were 600 people heading in there, on the last day!
ILL: We formed the Cultural Cooperative Espaço das Aguncheiras from that show.
Do you look back and see anything you regret doing or not having done?
Not having done... Maybe I would have liked to have been less reluctant to do some things just for the sake of money (she laughs). Herman José, when I did Humor de Perdição, asked me if I wanted to appear in some advertising. He was the first, I was at the National Theatre, and I told him I didn’t think it was very logical to be at the National Theatre, an institutional thing, and doing ads. He didn’t give a shit about the institutional. And was doing it very well (laughs). These are choices I made at the time, and I don’t look back with regrets. Nor do I feel bad, perhaps because things were all done with heart.
«I would have liked to have been less reluctant to do some things just for the sake of money»
And your greatest source of pride?
I don’t have that either… No! I do, I do. My biggest pride is my daughter. And I’m proud of my existence, I haven’t conspired with anyone, I haven’t done anything that would make me sick. I used to be more judgmental about others. Now I try not to be, I think I’m much more restrained... It’s age (she laughs). And maybe that’s the biggest lesson in life. In any case, I’m against corruption. Nobody can catch me saying otherwise!
And what about your relationship with the current state of Culture?
It’s been worse (she guffaws). It’s been much worse. We were ostracised a lot during Pedro Passos Coelho’s time, and I had to put my foot down. It was recognised and notorious. I went, together with Inês, to the demonstrations, I went to the Assembly of the Republic, I spoke to all the parties, all of them. Now I certainly wouldn’t go to all the parties. But I hope I won’t need to go either. I hope the ruling party takes measures that are in accordance with the amount of people who are working and who have value.
What makes you smile in your day-to-day life?
You know, I was a scowler until I was four and a half years old. My dad was always taking pictures of me and he’d say, «Zezinha, laugh,» and I’d set my face into a laugh. But if I’m ‘closed’ I have a very hard face. I’m like my grandmother! (she laughs). But that’s how it has to be. And also, because I feel lighter. It’s the good energy.
