It’s 3 PM, nap time. Florián, in his mother’s arms, falls asleep, and now she can speak. She stops being a mom for a while to be Julieta Zylberberg, the actress who debuted at 12 in Magazine For Fai, participated in hits like Farsantes, El rey del Once, Puán, and Relatos Salvajes, and every Monday and Tuesday on the stage of the Multiteatro brings to life Romina, a tough criminal lawyer who defends those accused of sexual violence until one day life puts her on the other side of the bench and she has to reconsider her thoughts and beliefs about Justice. In conversation with LA NACIÓN, her recent motherhood is the main topic: having a baby after 40, the beautiful chaos of blended families, and how it was to return to the scene.
“I surely wouldn’t be an actress today if I had been a child actress,” she says confidently when recalling her beginnings on television when she had to beg her parents to let her participate in Mex Urtizberea’s show and clarifies that it was filmed on Saturdays: “They wouldn’t have let me work Monday to Friday, and I wouldn’t let my kids either.” With almost three-quarters of her life in the industry, she talks about her children while knowing how to protect their privacy and stay away from scandals.
Mother of a seven-month-old baby (Florián, from her relationship with director and screenwriter Agustín Toscano) and Luis Ernesto, 10, whom she had with Esteban Lamothe, she sometimes sleeps little at night, but still manages to put in the effort “and the soul” – she clarifies at one point in the interview – in her one-woman show directed by Andrea Garrote, Prima facie. Alone on stage with little more than her own body, she manages to immerse the audience in what she calls “a political act”: “At this moment in the country, I feel I can’t not do this play.”
—Prima facie speaks first from one perspective and then from another, about the victims of sexual crimes; it’s a powerful play.
—It’s fair what’s happening; as an artistic work it’s mega surprising and I love that the victim’s place is occupied by someone who is not pure, chaste, and suffering. It’s good how the play neither judges nor looks at her sideways. She also has her struggle in a male-dominated world; that maneuver that one does in their head when saying ‘I don’t defend rapists’ and the rules that the judicial mechanism has, that there has to be a defense. But the big question is what happens in these cases, when there is that judicial void in the design.
—What did you think when you received the text?
—I didn’t know anything; Sebastián Blutrach (producer along with Valentina Berger and Tomás Rottemberg) sent me the text, I had given birth a month ago, my mind was clouded, I read it and it turned everything around and broke my heart. The text pierced me and now I feel that I can’t not do it; at this moment in the country, it’s a political act.
—Could this play have been done 20 years ago, for example?
—I find it hard to distinguish the decades, but if I think back to when I was 18, because I remember the plays I was doing back then, everything was very different. I believe it could have been done; any social movement is progressive. I wish it had been done earlier and I hope it finds its place.
—Did you speak with any victims of sexual violence to build the character?
—I didn’t speak. But we talk among ourselves all the time [referring to women] and the play says “One in three is a victim.” It’s true. There are no women who haven’t experienced an uncomfortable situation; almost all women have gone through something. We have it close; I’ve heard cases from people close to me, there are also many intrafamily cases.
—Without reaching the case of what happens to the character, today we also realize things that are not right, that were previously normalized, right in the street, do you feel that?
—Yes, things happened that you didn’t feel abused by, but yes, it was like something ejected you, without having full clarity that it was wrong.
—Have you experienced any uncomfortable episodes?
—I haven’t had complicated situations, but I have lived unpleasant moments; everyone has experienced them at some point. Today the patriarchal idiosyncrasy is slowly clearing up and there are modalities that are being moved away.
—You’re a mom of boys, how do you educate them in these aspects?
—Yes, for our new boys and everyone. We were raised under patriarchal and macho rules and that’s why we accepted certain things more like geishas, because we were raised that way. Education now has to be for some in one way and for others in another. I tell my son (Luis Ernesto, 10) all the time what I see in football, for example, which is very macho. What is this misunderstood passion in which saying and shouting everything is allowed during fervor? I once went to the stadium and everything was permitted.
—In certain aspects, are the new generations more advanced?
—Yes, but at the same time it’s a dangerous generation marked by technology.
—You’re the mom of Florián, seven months old, how was it to return to the stage with a baby?
—I took my time. And they did this very tailored to me; I rehearsed at home, then in a small room very close to where I would ride my bike and come back after two hours. Now, with the first performances, it was the first time I didn’t put him to sleep.
—So you’re handling it well?
—Yes, I’m with him a lot, 12 hours a day. My partner is a screenwriter and works from home.
—Different from your previous postpartum, when you decided to come back to work early.
—I returned quickly, but I was 11 years younger then. I don’t regret it because I did things that were good and pleasurable for me, and I had the opportunity to take him with me; I had a dressing room for him to accompany me, which in other professions you can’t do.
—Did you already want to get back into it?
—I felt I had to do it. Plus, last year I worked little because I was pregnant, and I was in a play where the character didn’t require it, and this play drives me crazy; it’s impressive and moved me.
—Do you have the fortune to choose which projects to take?
—It’s impossible to choose, and you have to work; there’s little work in our area, I have proposals for the end of the year but everything is on hold. I am blessed that great things come my way. I like this play because it’s between a commercial format and a more intimate thing.
—How did you manage to blend the family? (Your partner is also the dad of Sol, 16, and Nina, 9)
—It’s a beautiful mess! He had a little dog and I had a little dog; we are a band and it’s lovely. I also love the large family; it’s very nice. The day-to-day is rotating, because Luis goes with his dad, Sol lives in Tucumán, and Nina with her mom. So it’s always different; the kids get along well, and Florián is the glue of it all.
—What was it like to be a mom after 40?
—I’m great and so happy with motherhood in different decades; I enjoyed it and am enjoying it in two different moments of life, Lu and Florián experienced different mothers; it’s beautiful. I like being a mother at 40 because it’s a time of less anxiety in life. I love that they are several years apart; it was never my idea to have them close together and “get them done with,” as is usually said. I want to enjoy them. And to see their bond, which they enjoy having a little baby.
—You just paraphrased people who say “have them close together and get it over with” and with motherhood, many comments come up, do they bother you?
—No. People talk, they always have opinions, and everyone finds their path according to their needs. At this point, nothing bothers me, almost; I have the concrete philosophy that it slides off me. I’ve always been like this.
—And fame? You’ve been well-known for a long time, we’re talking about you, your family, but you also maintain a certain secrecy, how do you handle it?
—One chooses when to expose. I do it at my own pace; not much is known about me. I have my circle; I don’t go out much, just what’s necessary. Generally, my social life goes another way. I’ve managed to have interest in my work, which is great. For me, I don’t want to know too much about the lives of actors; there’s a lovely mystery that sustains fiction.
—What was that first foray into television like, with Magazine For Fai?
—It was a very playful job and I loved it. I’ve been studying theater since I was very young and I was clear that I liked that; it was filmed on Saturdays and I went to school in the afternoon, so it was fun. When I finished school, I started studying Psychology, but I quit immediately.
—It’s very common to hear that in the past, kids on TV filmed from Monday to Saturday.
—My parents would never have allowed it. And I wouldn’t allow it for my children. I had to beg my parents. I said, “You have to meet Mex, who is a darling” and I thank them for not letting me work more because I would have burned out. I probably wouldn’t be an actress today if I had been a child actress. Even being grown up and working for a long time, I enjoy my work; if I didn’t, I couldn’t do it.
—Did that girl imagine the actress you are today?
—No, I didn’t think about it and I’m still applying the same technique: step by step, we’ll see, today is this, tomorrow will be tomorrow. We are so abducted by an unbearable world of anxiety… The reality is we don’t know what will happen; the country turns upside down every minute; life is like that too, I just had a child now…
—With so many years of experience, do you get nervous before going on stage?
—You suffer a lot beforehand. I’m a bit nervous and this happened to me with Fiebre, the other monologue I did, that before the premiere I thought ‘I want to leave, I can’t believe it’. The next day I thought the same, and so on. Until suddenly, I said: ‘I’m not operating on anyone. If I make a mistake, they won’t know.’ It was hard work. I also enjoy it; I’m very happy.
—Due to the message of Prima facie, have a lot of people approached you whom the piece has helped?
—Yes, and that’s art: it identifies you, propels you, reads moments in society, and mobilizes.
Prima facie, at the Multiteatro. Performances: Mondays and Tuesdays at 8:15 PM