Carla Navarro prefers to tuck herself between the folds and layers of personal relationships when she’s writing the characters in her plays.
“I am fascinated with the dynamics of relationships more than anything. The plot of the play can be anything, it doesn’t matter if it’s this crazy, intricate story, or as simple as getting up in the middle of the night for a glass of water — if the relationships aren’t there with all of the layers, how can they be relatable? What’s the point?” she says.
In “Cats Can’t Eat Yarn,” her collection of short plays produced by Riot Theatrical Productions and being performed Friday through March 17 at the City Heights Performance Annex, she explores five relationships that revolve around the intersectional experiences of the women in the stories — “a lesbian couple struggling with impending parenthood, a woman meeting her estranged father, a daughter at a crossroads with the aging mother who never cared for her, two sisters fighting addiction, and an immigrant woman far from home searching for who she still is,” according to Riot’s website.
The titular story in the collection is based on a figurine of a small, white cat playing with a red ball of yarn that she had as a child. She says that, in the play, the figurine represents consumerism leading to emotional detachment and suffocation and that the line is, “Cats can’t eat yarn, they’ll die,” meaning that “if we keep stuffing ourselves with mundanity, we are bound to suffocate. I chose that as the title of the compilation because that’s the title that has the most symbolism. It’s guttural and weird/absurd. That’s the kind of art I love.”
Navarro, 43, splits her time between living in Chula Vista and Baja California with her fiance, Siyani Christian. She’s a playwright and actor who also works as a paralegal while pursuing her art. She took some time to talk about this current collection of stories, its themes, and how living in both the United States and Chile has influenced her point of view as an artist.
Q: In a description online about the “Cats Can’t Eat Yarn” collection, it says that your work “celebrates and speaks on the many complex and intersectional experiences of Woman.” Can you talk about your introduction to intersectionality (coined by scholar Kimberle Crenshaw to describe the ways that simultaneously occupying different identities — in race, gender, sexual orientation, class, physical ability — can overlap with experiencing different forms of oppression) and how this framework has resonated with you in your own life and experiences?
A:
I purposefully don’t intellectualize my writing so that I don’t inadvertently push my thoughts or ideals on the reader/audience. I want to represent authentic people in my characters, not caricatures (or, at least, not in these plays). So, the way I write these characters isn’t defining them by the traumatic experience of what makes them “different” (i.e., immigration status, sexual orientation/identity, race, or gender). Instead, my stories embrace those characteristics as components of who these people are, and the trauma that they experienced in their unique way factors into how they navigate the journey in these stories. Writing this way, considering intersectionality just seems natural and honest to me. Unfortunately, in the society we live in, many people suffer oppression and discrimination on multiple levels and at different times in life, for being who they are.
What I love about Chula Vista…
I love that I can be in Mexico in 20 minutes!
Q: You were born in the U.S. before your parents moved your family back to Chile when you were 8 years old, where you stayed for the next 17 years, earning a degree in theater before returning to the States in 2006. How has living both in Chile and the U.S. influenced your point of view as an artist and the way you approach the stories you want to tell?
A: Being a binational woman who feels like an immigrant in both countries in which I am a citizen is a unique struggle. I find myself trying to discern my “identity” and trying to be intentional about representing who I am as a whole and finding others who can relate. I think a lot of the plays I have written have the quality of seeking one’s true self through the decisions we make and the relationships we keep.
Since living in San Diego, I find very little representation as a Latin American woman. With good reason, I find more representation of Mexican culture, which is so rich and vast, but that is not my representation. In fact, when speaking Spanish, I find myself neutralizing my Chilean accent so I can be understood or so I can avoid having to explain that I am not Mexican. In other circumstances, I have to explain or remind people that I didn’t grow up in the U.S., so there are cultural things that I just don’t share with my friends. On the other hand, back in the ‘90s in Chile, I was treated differently for having lived in the U.S., and for fluently speaking English without an accent. Some people admired me and thought I was more sophisticated or that my liberal tendencies were because I had lived abroad. Other people had a problem with my U.S. citizenship because of the political polemic between Nixon’s office’s involvement in the very violent Chilean military coup. That enhances my impression of feeling like a foreigner in both the U.S. and Chile. I take the opportunity to explore my personal struggles through my art, whether it’s writing a play, creating a character in preparation for a play, or even being an audience member.
Q: From your resume, you’ve been really active in theater for at least 20 years. What are some of your favorite places, in San Diego, to go when you want to experience live theater from the audience?
A: Ah, you’re trying to put me on the spot! I love intimate theater. I love plays that are irreverent, and uncomfortable, that move me and make me think, and if they are new plays, or rarely produced, even better! One of my favorite places to experience that type of theatre is OnStage Playhouse in Chula Vista. Their slogan is “Theatre Worth Talking About,” and I think they hit that mark most of the time. I love Moxie [Theatre]’s intimate theater, as well, and their selection of stories that embrace a diverse range of inclusionary topics. I miss Ion and InnerMission’s bold work, and I love seeing new theater companies popping up (or resurfacing), such as Loud Fridge, TuYo, Bocón. I especially enjoy seeing local playwrights’ works being produced in San Diego, which is something slated in most theaters in San Diego this year, and seen a lot last year at OnStage, Roustabouts, Cygnet, The Old Globe, Diversionary, and New Fortune, to name a few. If I want to specifically experience great performances in contemporary classics, Backyard Renaissance is a sure shot for quality work.
Q: What do you hope audiences experience when they attend one of the performances of “Cats Can’t Eat Yarn”?
A: I’d love for the audience to see themselves or a loved one reflected in one or more characters of these plays, or a similar situation, and just feel seen. I hope that they leave the theater talking about what these plays made them think about, what they felt, identify, and self-reflect on some of the topics the plays offer. I hope to inspire empathy and kindness through these flawed people I wrote and am certain exist. If any of these plays hit a nerve in any of the audience members and make them feel understood or reflected in any way, then I’ve succeeded.
Q: What is the best advice you’ve ever received?
A: To never stop learning and growing as a person, most likely given by my mom, in Spanish. I embrace challenges to learn and discover new things about myself, those around me, or a topic at hand, and that offers me more knowledge and more perspective to listen and grow to be a more compassionate and understanding human.
Q: What is one thing people would be surprised to find out about you?
A: That’s tough. Probably that I went to Catholic school. Or, that I’d never seen “Gilligan’s Island.”
Q: Please describe your ideal San Diego weekend.
A: I’m always so busy! First thing would be to have nothing on my to-do list to worry about, so I can fill it with one day full of activities, and another of laziness: a Cowles Mountain hike, kayaking in Mission Bay, coffee from a local coffee shop (the Brew Bar in Chula Vista is greatly missed), Thai food on Convoy, and I have always wanted to try out a dance class at Culture Shock (fingers crossed my schedule will allow this soon), and, of course, seeing a play that hopefully a friend is performing in, or directed or wrote, and then enjoying an after-play cocktail with said friend to discuss the play.