It is a sector like any other, yet whenever it is discussed, it is always in ideological terms, as a matter of pure thought. But never as much as in these two months has theatre suffered — not because of the virus itself, but because of the silence that surrounds it. Perhaps people forget that, beyond giving us emotions, culture and imagination, it guarantees work for many thousands of people. Theatres were among the first places to close (along with cinemas) and will probably be the last to reopen. The alarm over the situation is loud, and we discussed it with Andrée Ruth Shammah, director and artistic director of the Teatro Franco Parenti in Milan, who has devoted her entire life to spreading this art form and making it necessary rather than elitist.

Andrée Ruth Shammah, it seems to us that there is very little discussion about what will happen to the world of theatre after the coronavirus. What do you think?
It's not that there's little discussion — there is no talk of theatre at all; it's as though we were ghosts. And yet we are 150,000 workers who, in various capacities, operate across no fewer than 1,230 permanent theatre venues in Italy. Theatre is not radical chic — let's be clear about that straight away.

During this period of forced standstill, some organisations are reinventing themselves and exploring new forms, but can you conceive of theatre without an audience present, without physicality?
Theatre without an audience does not exist. It's like a restorer without furniture, a glazier without glass. That said, what we must do now is create a connection that today, for obvious reasons, we have lost. This is the function of theatre: to create a dialogue and a relationship, to "become family" — as even the name of my theatre suggests. We at the Franco Parenti, and I in particular, are doing this through #CasaParenti. These are two- or three-minute pieces — little capsules — in which I talk daily about events and people from the world of theatre, and I do so with warmth, as one must do on stage. It is not a matter of aesthetics but of ethics, and in my view these stories, these brief exchanges, are better than theatre streamed or poorly recorded, the kind you sometimes see on television; they allow for the necessary concentration without one's attention scattering. I intend to continue this work, this connection, also thanks to the pool (Bagni misteriosi), which I hope to reopen and to use for theatrical incursions as well.

From an economic standpoint, what is the most pressing urgency right now?
The country has no money — that is clear; it is going into debt to help us, and we too will go into debt. What matters now, from my point of view, is that if one has ideas and proposals, one should have access to loans and liquidity to bring them to life. If, for example, I intend to go to the squares of Milan to put on shows — presumably monologues, for everyone's safety — I need to have the financial means to do so. What I do not understand, however, is how much sense it makes to undertake wholesale upheavals of theatres, including structural ones, if, as I hope and as many experts say, Covid-19 will lose its virulence and we will return to something close to normality. We will do everything necessary to reopen — we want that very much — but I do not believe we will spend our entire lives apart from one another, at a metre and a half's distance. I read a phrase that struck me and that I find apt: "Better to avoid a serious crisis turning into a wasted opportunity." My interpretation of it is this: one must have courage and go beyond. I know this well: we were in serious difficulties in 2007 and 2008, but we invested in Bagni misteriosi — a choice that proved bold and successful. Now we must do the same: invest and throw ourselves in. But of course, money is needed to do so.

How are you preparing for the aftermath?
At present, all our workers are on furlough, which we have also decided to top up in order to ease the hardship. And I have no intention of leaving unemployed the actors who were due to work with us, so I am, for instance, trying to organise initiatives with museums when they reopen, so that together we can collaborate and create storytelling moments tied to art and to the works on display. That is just one of many ideas. As for me, I am trying to stay still, not to exhaust myself, so as to arrive at the restart with the energy and freshness it will require — that much is certain. I do not want the situation created by this virus to wear me down.

You speak of new ideas, of the energy and strength needed for the restart — yet don't you find that many people, at multiple levels, are in a state of complete inertia, almost as though they have grown accustomed to this situation?
I believe so too, and I think it is the worst thing. I have spent my whole life trying to get audiences to go to the theatre. I remember Paolo Grassi going out in the winter fog to community centres or visiting people after work to tell them to go to the theatre. It was hard work, until at last a public theatre was born — understood as nourishment for the soul (Paolo Grassi used to say that "theatre is as important as a dairy") — that was not mere variety entertainment but a necessity. For me it is important that people regard the theatre as home, that they feel at ease there. Now it will be extremely difficult to overcome the fear of the other, but above all the laziness. I cannot bear to hear people say these days that they have rediscovered their passions — but why weren't they doing those things before? It seems as though the life we were living was not our own, that the life we were living belonged to someone else. So let us try to understand what our life is — but let it contain within it a variety of offerings that includes theatre as well. If the new life is one that has no room for theatre, that considers it unnecessary and wants the new way to be streaming, no thank you.

We need to make people understand that theatre is essential, like so many other things — almost like going to the shops, don't you think?
Absolutely — but not because it is culture, but because it means being together, living an experience, sharing it, taking part in it. I think all this technology is absolutely mad. I often hear it said that we have suddenly become digitalised, but I think instead that all this technology has created such an annoyance that soon — I hope very soon — we will suddenly feel the need for real, authentic human contact. Let technology go elsewhere, into those fields where it can help us live better, but let it not replace everything else.