Marianela Nuñez

PAOLA KUDACKI: Hello, can you hear me? Hello?

MARIANELA NUÑEZ: Hello.

PAOLA: Hello, can you hear me?

MARIANELA: Yes, I can now. There we go.

PAOLA: Technology … Are you in London?

MARIANELA: Yes, I’m in my dressing room.

PAOLA: Perfect, great. How was it that you decided to dedicate yourself to ballet and become a dancer? Was it your dream, or how did it happen?

MARIANELA: I come from a very traditional Argentinian family, a family that is quite big. I have three siblings; we are four in total. I’m the only female, and I’m the youngest, so that had a lot to do with why I got started in dance.

After having three boys, my mom was up to here with soccer and with boys’ stuff, and, well, she dressed me in pink and put bows on my head, even though I didn’t have any hair when I was little. The first thing she did—as soon as I was able to walk—was to take me to a studio near my house to take dance lessons.

The studio was very small, very neighborhood-like. I come from a neighborhood called San Martín. This studio was three blocks away from my house, and it was in a garage, the teacher’s garage. She kept her cars in there. Basically, the floor had tiles, and there was a ballet bar.

PAOLA: With car oil on the floor? [Laughter.]

MARIANELA: Yes, and we took our lessons there, and they weren’t only ballet lessons. We did a bit of Spanish dancing, a bit of folk dancing. There was a bit of everything. Amongst all that, there were my ballet lessons. I attended along with my kindergarten classmates, but I didn’t like it that they went. They didn’t take it very seriously. It was just a game to them, which is normal for 3-year-old girls. However, I didn’t see it that way; I scolded them every time they lost concentration.

My head made a click right away. I took it very seriously, and then a year and a half or two years after that, I told my mom I don’t want to do the rest, that I only want to focus on ballet, and I’d like to go to a place where they can really do it more seriously and with more commitment.

My mom couldn’t understand at first, but she saw that I was so decided, so she took me to another studio. It was also near my neighborhood of San Martín, but the teacher only focused on ballet. She had studied at the Teatro Colón school, so she had a profound knowledge of dance.

She watched me for a little while and said to my mom that she thought I had talent, so to just leave me to her. I began taking lessons with her, and a year later she suggested I audition for the Teatro Colón school. So that’s what I did. And I got into the Colón at 8 years old. That’s how it all started.

PAOLA: You discovered your passion when you were very little.

MARIANELA: The truth is, I can’t explain to you why. I didn’t have much access to dance; I just fell in love with dance and gave in to it. I still can’t explain it to this day why I love to dance so much. It goes beyond any explanation.

PAOLA: Fate is very crazy, and how it occurred to your mother to take you there and how you said, “Yes, this is it.”

MARIANELA: Exactly. My mom had danced folkloric music, but she never had any contact with classical music. So it’s really inexplicable.

PAOLA: Now, something that sounds so important—and let me know if I’m mistaken or not—in ballet, you have to have a specific body type.

MARIANELA: There isn’t a formula for how it should be, because some dancers—you’ll see we have different bodies, proportions and musculature, so there isn’t a formula. It’s not like there is one body type and that’s it. No, but of course, certain things are fundamental, and they make sure they are there before letting you in at the Colón Theatre or the Paris School. For example, the Royal Ballet School demands you have a physical exam where they check those things. Of course, as your career progresses and if you obviously have a strong body type that is flexible at the same time and supports and helps you not to get injured so much, that’s a privilege.

PAOLA: Because the training is so rigorous?

MARIANELA: Right. It’s hours on top of hours of work, and you use your body 100% every day.

PAOLA: Have you encountered any obstacles during your career that gave you any restrictions?

MARIANELA: Not really. I couldn’t really say, “This is truly an obstacle. This was hard. This stopped me.” No. The truth is that I didn’t have any of that. There were things, though. For example, during my teenage years, I did struggle with keeping my body in a shape that I was more or less happy with while being strong at the same time.

I struggled with that. I wanted to find the right balance. I always did it healthily and with lots of people around me, helping me. That was one thing. It wasn’t an obstacle, though; it was a test.

PAOLA: What is your motivation in those difficult times? Even though you haven’t had any specific obstacles, I imagine that, in spite of developing yourself and constantly growing in your career, you always have ups and downs. As human beings, we aren’t perfect.

MARIANELA: Being an artist, you are constantly looking to outdo yourself and improve. I don’t like to use the word “better” or say, “I want to be better,” because with art, it’s not really like that. I try using the expression “going deeper.”

PAOLA: Growing.

MARIANELA: Growing artistically. First, I’ve had a career here at the Royal Ballet for 21 years. You have to constantly want to do this everyday  year after year. I have it in my soul. The need to go deeper and grow artistically is there every day. Sometimes you feel that you are going somewhere and other times you get a little stuck. That’s how it goes.

PAOLA: Because in order to grow, you need passion to be your engine, right?

MARIANELA: Look, regardless of what happens in my life, I know that I get up at 8 a.m., and I know that I’m going to hold onto that bar. I’m going to get to the ballet studio. Whatever happens, even if I’m going through the worst moment of my life or the best moment of my life, dance is always there to rescue me and hold me up. That’s something I value very much. Dance protects me. I feel supported by it.

PAOLA: When you were just starting out, did you miss anything? Or did you think about living in the moment and were you fascinated with what was happening to you?

MARIANELA: No, I missed my family like crazy during the first years. I even missed my brothers fighting with me at dinner time. I missed it when they changed the channel on the television when I was watching what I wanted to watch. I missed it all. I struggled in the beginning. I missed my mom so much in my first year of school. But it was all worth it.

PAOLA: Would you say that you have realized all your dreams? What are your next dreams?

MARIANELA: You know what? I have realized all my dreams. You know what, though? All of them came true, and others appeared along the way that I was not even aware that I had.

One of my dreams is to have a very long career; I’d like to keep dancing the classics for another 10 to 15 years. I want to keep growing and exploring. I’d like to keep discovering myself as a dancer. I still have the freshness I had when I started—that’s thanks to my love and passion.

PAOLA: What do you love most about your work?

MARIANELA: I couldn’t express it as a single thing. I couldn’t choose one because there are too many ingredients.

PAOLA: What does it feel like when the curtains open and you start dancing in front of a great audience in a big theater?

MARIANELA: Once I put on my ballet shoes, I experience it. What I feel when I dance—it’s inexplicable.

PAOLA: Although you know the repertoire so well and have performed the same ballet for years and years, do you still feel excitement?

MARIANELA: The excitement is there always; it’s there when I dance and when I rehearse. It’s always exciting to me.

PAOLA: How do you prepare yourself mentally and physically? Do you have any type of mental preparation?

MARIANELA: My boyfriend Alejandro is a genius, and he got me started in meditation and mindfulness. Those things have helped me very much. I could be in a dance studio for nine straight hours and you won’t see me disconnected at any moment. I’m there, present. Dance connects me with mindfulness and meditation right away. I can feel that I meditate while I dance.

PAOLA: What you say about mindful meditation, I too discovered it a couple of years ago, and it’s super important because it keeps you connected. I believe that sometimes the body disconnects from the mind, and through meditation, it’s like they unite. Also, acceptance is super important.

MARIANELA: Super important.

PAOLA: Do you think at some point in your career you had a big break, where you noticed that something had changed after that?

MARIANELA: I can’t say, “I did this. This is it. I made it.” Perhaps my big break happened at a given moment, but I didn’t take it that way, not because I didn’t notice it but because I had a different goal.

PAOLA: The journey is the destination.

MARIANELA: Exactly.

PAOLA: Do you ever identify with any of the characters from the ballets you’ve danced?

MARIANELA: In every role that I play, there is a small piece for sure. The fantastic part is how every one of these characters relates to human life, with your life, with things, with human flaws and with weaknesses. The strongest parts of a human being are in every one of those characters—that’s what I like.

PAOLA: I imagine that in your case, it feels like everything was quite organic. Your growth developed in a quite homogeneous way, but I believe that patience is important too. Patience, hard work and persistence.

MARIANELA: I feel very grateful because I’ve always been surrounded by people that helped me constantly. They made me grow day after day and year after year. I felt protected all the time. You grow and you come up with your own ideas and ideals, but you always have to listen no matter what.

PAOLA: Exactly. I believe that in your vision, which is also my vision, when we have a creative job or in any aspect of our lives, really, if we want to keep growing and developing ourselves, we are always going to discover new angles and horizons.

MARIANELA: Absolutely.

PAOLA: It’s kind of like you never make it.

MARIANELA: That’s why I’m thankful to dance for having adopted me. I’m very thankful for my parents for having helped me to discover my passion when they took me to that first ballet lesson. I’m thankful to the Royal Ballet for having adopted me and allowing me to become a part of their family. I’m thankful for how I discovered my passions, my willingness to continue. I am thankful for my curiosity.

PAOLA: Curiosity—there it is.

MARIANELA: That’s what I’m interested in and excites me. There are many little girls attending the shows. They come to see me at the stage door after the show.

It’s about transmitting that message of curiosity, because I believe that the young generation now doesn’t have any access to that. They want everything now and to make the least possible effort. I hope they start to realize that the journey is success. It’s about making that journey.

PAOLA: Now, with the internet and social media and everything being available and at the reach of our hands, our ears and our eyes, the young generations think that success can happen overnight and that they don’t need to work.

MARIANELA: You grow little by little, day after day. That’s what the success is. Day after day, you have to be like, “OK, I put this in. I improved. I achieved this,” but those are personal feelings. It’s like, “OK, it cost me this. I will rehearse this for more hours, and I’m going to put more into this. I’m going to go deeper into it.” That’s already  success from a personal aspect.

PAOLA: There is no money that can really compare to the value of passion and being able to do what you really love. You are privileged to have been able to find your passion, because that’s the key to a life of constant growth.

MARIANELA: That’s it!

PAOLA: Marianela, you give me goosebumps. Thank you so much!

MARIANELA: No, thank you. You gave me goosebumps with the pictures you took of me. [Laughter.]

PAOLA: [Laughter.] OK, dale. Te mando un beso grande.

MARIANELA: Dale. Beso gigante.

PAOLA: Chau, chau.

MARIANELA: Chau, chau.

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Argentina

 

 

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Carmen Winant

PAOLA KUDACKI: Hello Carmen. Thank you so much for having us in your home and at your studio. It is super nice to get to see your work and your process—it’s like being inside of your brain, among your ideas and inspirations.

I wanted to feature you because you’re an incredible artist and also because this issue is a bit inspired by motherhood and people who are inspiring to me. This year I became a mother, and as you know, life changes so much with that. And the idea started a bit about being a letter to my daughter, highlighting women who are passionate and courageous.

CARMEN WINANT: It’s funny that you’ve thought of the issue as being a letter to your daughter. I was thinking how I regard so much of my work as being like a letter to my mother. So much of it is directly or indirectly addressed to her or about her. It’s so interesting to think about it moving in the other direction.

I think so much about my mother with my work, not only as a mother but also as a feminist, and as a feminist who in a lot of ways had to make compromises with my work in order to have children.

PAOLA: For me, definitely having a daughter has made me think so much and understand so much about my relationship with my mother, and how that affects me, and what I want to project to my kid and on my work.

CARMEN: Yes, it takes a lot of unpacking. But I have this strange conundrum where I feel like being a mother and having kids and giving birth has so informed my work; on the other hand, my children pull me away from the studio and make it harder to be an artist. There’s this push-pull. I don’t know if you feel this with your daughter, where they change your work, and they make your work better and richer and deeper, but they also make it harder to do your work. It’s this constant negotiation.

PAOLA: Most of your work is collage. How did you up with the idea for “My Birth,” the collage you did for MoMA in New York in 2018.

CARMEN: I think the trigger of it, initially, was after I gave birth the first time. It’s like you were saying, this animalistic effect. I couldn’t believe the process of giving birth. It was so many feelings all at once. I felt as though nothing could have prepared me for it. I was just shocked that people gave birth and then went about their daily lives as if nothing had changed, because it was such a fundamental change for me to undergo that experience. I had been working with images for a long time. I’ve always been compelled by the idea that images can try to describe an experience, but they can never quite do it.

Images of birth for instance—they can’t actually transmute the feeling of giving birth. They’re remarkable, yet they can’t somehow express what happened. I had this idea that I would try. That I would try to see if I could just collect images—image after image after image. Then if I had enough of them, maybe I could describe the feeling of giving birth. Of course, knowing you can’t really ever do that with pictures.

PAOLA: Also, when is enough?

CARMEN: Right. Also, I went through the experience, and I thought, “Why aren’t there more representations of this in culture?” It’s like you were saying, TV and movies and the popular culture is where we get the information. It was nothing like that. Like you slap your husband, you punch your doctor and your baby shoots out. It’s now so comical to me to think how that was what I thought giving birth was like. It was also an intent to create a vocabulary or to make birth visible. Not only in a piece of art, but in a piece of art in the MoMA. That was going to be really visible to many different people from many different cultures.

It was an amazing thing to walk through and eavesdrop on people looking at it and talking with their mothers and with their children, or putting their heads down and walking through and not wanting to make any contact with the piece. It was actually people’s participation with the work that made it so much more complicated than I could have imagined.

PAOLA: The thing is, giving birth is something that humans and animals have been doing since the beginning of time. But we never get to see the reality of how it really is. And every experience is very personal and very different and very special.

When I was at the hospital and I had my daughter, I asked the doctor about how many women gave birth that night. When he said 33, I couldn’t believe it. I was in such a trance, feeling that the world had stopped.

CARMEN: Because when you’re inside of it, it’s so big. It’s so powerful and overwhelming. I remember at one point when I was giving birth, I heard a woman’s scream in another room who was also giving birth. I had that same experience where I was like, “Someone else is also going through this.”

Every step of the way. Even before giving birth, I was just so amazed. That’s not even a big enough word for it by the experience, when you start to feel a body moving inside your body. I had already been thinking about it, but then when it happens to you, no matter how intellectually prepared I was, I felt totally floored by the experience.

PAOLA: What is motherhood for you?

CARMEN: Oh my God, it’s such a big question. I read a quote recently—God, I can’t remember it. It was by some famous feminist writer. She said motherhood for her was ambivalence. I thought in some way that describes it, because it’s so many things at once and it’s also a pull between things. I feel tenderness, enormous tenderness, and I feel patience, and I feel deep love toward my kids. I also feel frustration, exhaustion, sometimes even resentment that I can’t do the things that I want to do. I can’t take care of my needs. Somehow, for me, at least, it’s like the simultaneous play between all of those feelings at once. How about you?

PAOLA: I’m new at this. But there’s really no words to describe it. It’s something that is new all the time.

CARMEN: I would say so. I remember actually when my son was born. I remember he came out, and it’s of course just an intensely emotional experience. I felt this new feeling. A lot of it was fear. I really felt I just wasn’t sure how to take care of this person.

PAOLA: For me it really puts aside the word “perfection” or “control.” Being a mother is a constant unknown and surprises, and continually adapting and changing. It’s living in the moment because you can’t control the future.

Carmen, you are a mother, an artist, a professor; you have a lot of people who are looking up to you. How do you inspire young generations to create and how do you give them tools to be better and encourage them to follow their dreams?

CARMEN: I love teaching. It’s a good gig and allows time to be an artist; it makes it possible and supports that endeavor. I’ve noticed actually lately that students are making less political work. I would think that now, of all times, it would feel urgent to make that kind of work. I’m generalizing here because I definitely have students who are really interested in that, but I try to encourage them to make work that has some stake in the world.

I think the big challenge of being a teacher is to help them to understand that they live in a community and in a world. That their work can and should relate to a life outside of themselves, ideas outside of their own.

PAOLA: Do you think that social media has affected the way artists, or young kids as future artists, develop their work?

CARMEN: Separate from being a professor, as a parent [it’s a challenge] to figure out how to manage your kid moving through that social media landscape. I’m just thankful that my kids are so young, so I don’t have to deal with it yet. In terms of my students, yes, I think they spend so much time looking at themselves in this little insular world that is their device. I don’t know how I would have been. I imagine I would have been a totally different artist.

PAOLA: I think it must make them question who they are a lot, because it creates a lot of insecurities. Because you are continually being judged, getting likes or not, getting comments that are not necessarily encouraging.

CARMEN: I resisted it for as long as I could because I was afraid of this very thing that you’re describing happening. Like at such a vulnerable, impressionable time in their lives figuring where their worth is. They are literally born into Instagram.

PAOLA: Maybe their brains are trained to understand things differently.

CARMEN: I’m sure you’re right.

PAOLA: Also, they have a different rhythm in the way that they approach things. Their attention span, the way they look at things. They live a faster life. Everything is more accessible, so they look at things and then move on to the next thing quickly. We already live a faster life than our parents.

CARMEN: It’s been so nice to talk to you. I feel like you’re an old friend. It’s so easy, I mean it. You’re so relaxed and insightful and kind.

PAOLA: We’re moving in. [Laughs.] Thank you so much for having us in your home and in your studio! I feel the same way! Thank you!

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Noor & Salwa Tagouri

Noor Tagouri is a Libyan American journalist, activist and motivational speaker. Her mother, Salwa Tagouri, is the founder of the ISeeYou Foundation. ISeeYou is a nonprofit organization focused on alleviating local homelessness and restoring dignity, compassion and respect. I met Noor during a photo shoot and right away we started talking and bonding about many points of view, especially concerning women. She is very passionate and is always encouraging women to believe in themselves. After the photo shoot I told her that I was sure we will work together in the future. A few months later, we met to talk about the HUMANITY project. She told me that she always wanted to do something with her mother, to express thanks for all the things she had done for her and for others and for inspiring her and encouraging her to be who she is now. So I went to Maryland to meet Noor and Salwa at their family home. It was beautiful to see the love. They made me feel as if I was a family member, and after taking the photographs, Salwa invited us to stay for lunch. So I turned on the voice recorder on my iPhone and we started to talk while she was cooking the most delicious and nourishing meal.

 

SALWA TAGOURI: Let’s do this interview here in the kitchen so then we can cook and talk.

PAOLA KUDACKI: Oh wow, OK! So you have five kids and Noor is your first one?

NOOR TAGOURI: Yes, she had me when she was 22.

SALWA: My little doll. Yes.

PAOLA: Where were you born?

NOOR: In West Virginia.

SALWA: I got married in Virginia. Then went to West Virginia. And right after I got married, I got pregnant.

NOOR: And then she cried …

SALWA: It is true. I was hysterically crying, but if I knew I was going to have you, I wouldn’t have.

PAOLA: Where did you and your husband meet?

SALWA: In Virginia, through family friends.

PAOLA: And when did you come to America?

SALWA: I came to America when I was 11.

NOOR: Yes, she grew up here, but my dad came when he was 27.

SALWA: 26.

NOOR: 26. My whole life I’ve said 27. I’ve been lying.

PAOLA: Where were you born?

SALWA: In Libya.

NOOR: She was born in the governor’s mansion in Libya. My grandpa was the governor.

PAOLA: Oh my God. Look at that salmon. This is such a treat, Salwa.

NOOR: She went to culinary school and she also was a guidance counselor. And then she went to learn Spanish.

PAOLA: Noor, tell me about your memories growing up.

NOOR: We grew up in a very small, conservative white town. I remember my mom and dad taking me every summer on a family vacation. I remember my mom would pack me a homemade lunch every day. I remember thinking my lunch was better than everyone else’s because she took so much time making it.

I have a good old journal—at least until high school, my mom and I would write notes to each other and then we would put them in the lunch box and we would never talk about it. Then I would write her a letter, and then she would write me a letter.

PAOLA: That’s so beautiful. How was your relationship with your parents?

NOOR: My parents would put me in school camps; if there was anything I was ever interested in, they would always encourage me, “Try it, try it, try it.” They put me in every writing camp, reading camp, journalism camp, TV camp, everything.

PAOLA: Do you think that is where your passion for journalism began?

NOOR: I just knew I loved to tell stories and ask questions.

PAOLA: Were you the kind of child that asks a lot of questions?

NOOR: I was so curious. I would ask everyone questions.

SALWA: Recently my daughter for my birthday gave me an old VHS. We got to see when Noor was young, and without realizing it, she’s talking about the news, recording the news when she was a kid.

PAOLA: Was she holding a fake microphone?

SALWA: Yes, she was. Always holding the mic while talking.

PAOLA: How old was she when she started talking?

SALWA: Talking, a year. Actually in less than a year. She walked at 10 months. You know how you read birthing books and it says, “You’re going to be in labor for 13 hours because it’s your first baby” and this and that. With her, five hours. My doctor had to catch her because she didn’t want to wait to come out. That’s how fast she was.

NOOR: Here I am still—bam, bam, bam.

PAOLA: What are your values as a mother, the values that you teach your kids?

SALWA: Oh my gosh, everything. Basically our religion dictates so much. No cheating, no lying …

NOOR: I think you always taught by example, like this is how you should be, but not telling us …

SALWA: It is true. I can never remember sitting my kids down and saying, “OK, you can’t do this. You can’t do that.” I don’t think kids respect that. It doesn’t stick with them.

NOOR: I mean, I think you teach character more from a positive way—this is how you should be giving.

SALWA: Kindness is a big deal. Even now with my little boy. We read a book that talked about an invisible bucket that everybody has on top of their head, and so when you’re mean to somebody or when you bully somebody that bucket is empty, and they feel bad about themselves. If you’re a kind person you say kind words: “Oh, you look nice today.” Then a drop of water comes into that bucket, so you’re filling somebody else’s bucket. Right now, when I drop him off in school, I’m like, “Yasim, is your bucket full?” Then he’ll say, “Yes.” Then I’ll say, “Are you going to go fill other people’s bucket?” He’s like, “Yes, yes.” Then it teaches him to go and be nice to others, be kind to others. It’s a really neat book.

NOOR: For example, when we would do the grocery runs to the shelter, you always said, “Don’t ever think that you’re doing people a favor, the fact that you have the opportunity to do this. They’re giving to you.”

SALWA: Yes, absolutely. I really feel strongly about that. The fact that we’re in a position to help other people is already a big blessing, and the fact that you’re entering these people’s lives feels good and it’s just the right thing to do. Our religion says you can’t be thankful by just saying  “Alhamdulillah,” which means “thank you, God.” You have to show you’re thankful.

PAOLA: I read something you said—that when you’re confused about what to do, combine your skills and talents with what causes you pain.

NOOR: Yes, I think that’s my definition of passion or finding what your passion or your purpose is, combining your skills and talents with the causes that pain you the most, because then you get to live for those things and you get to do them. For me, if it was storytelling and speaking and asking questions, combining that with the right misrepresentation of marginalized communities, then I could use that to go and to represent those communities properly. Or knowing stories of violence against women, I was able to do something like Sold in America [her investigative documentary and podcast] or what we do with the homeless in our organization ISeeYou.

PAOLA: So you made a career following your passion, even though there was not a precedent of a reporter in America wearing a hijab.

NOOR: Yes. It’s so interesting because my mentors, who tried to help me get into television, always say “I can’t believe you made it your own way.” I created a career that doesn’t exist.

I knew I was good at what I did, and I cared so much. I was just real. I dressed the way that I dress. I spoke in my own voice. I learned how to connect with people in a way that I felt they deserved and not just people coming in and saying, “Hey, give me your story.” When you go back to that kid in yourself and you realize that you knew this whole time exactly who you wanted to be, you just have to tap into that.

A huge part of that for me is surrounding myself with people who I can learn from, who are positive and are rooting for you. Then finding service in everything that you do, because when you realize that, your purpose is bigger than just yourself. I realized that you can do small things that have a big impact.

PAOLA: Noor, when did you start wearing the hijab? When are you supposed to start wearing it?

NOOR: Technically when you hit puberty is when you’re supposed to start wearing it. I decided to wear it when I was 15 turning 16. I put it on and nobody thought I was going to keep it on because I used to say, “I’m never gonna wear it.” And I remember my mom saying, “I don’t care. Either way, if you put it on or if you don’t put it on, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m happy you are trying to find yourself.”

PAOLA: You were a bit of a rebel.

SALWA: She was a rebel.

NOOR: I was definitely a rebel but I always wanted to be on TV, and nobody on TV had it on, so …

PAOLA: You felt that you were not going to fit in?

SALWA: It’s funny how in the world in general the focus is always on what the woman is wearing.

PAOLA: Let us live.

SALWA: I know. Let the woman decide for herself what she wants to put on her head or her body, and same thing goes for abortion—it’s our bodies, our choice.

NOOR: People love controlling women’s bodies. To me, if you’re going to say freedom of expression, freedom of religion, then let people do what they want. I was in North Carolina recently, and I had another incident where the event that I was speaking at was threatened. Somebody said that no one was going to get out of that event alive and that Muslims were all going to die tonight. It was all over the news.

PAOLA: What will be your message for younger generations of women—your message of hope?

SALWA: That love will always trump hate. I always feel there’s more love in the world than hate. I know the media amplifies now all the hate crimes and the bombings and this and that, but I always feel people are good and there’s more love than hate. If you are kind, it comes back to you. The thing is now, with all the problems in the world, whenever you feel like, “Oh, it’s so hopeless and the world is doomed,” you do something about it, one act at a time.

NOOR: She’s not negative, ever.

SALWA: You have to be positive.

PAOLA: We have so much to learn from you.

NOOR: She always said that. Even when something bad would happen, she would always find the good thing in it. Unless you mess with her kids, then …

SALWA: It’s true, I’m nice unless you hurt my kids. Then you might see a different side. I can’t help it. I am Mama Bear.

PAOLA: I mean, if we will all do little things, we will make a better world. How would you imagine the ideal world?

NOOR: What would an ideal world be? That’s so hard. I think an ideal world would just be where people were kind and everyone had their basic needs. Then you build from there.

SALWA: Everybody has a roof over their head.

NOOR: A roof over their head and clean food. In an ideal world, we would not be putting GMOs or chemicals in our food anymore and we would learn to heal ourselves with what we were given in the ground and people lived with compassion toward however you practice. Where we were more interested in our differences because we’re curious and we wanted to know more and learn more than fear them. That would be ideal.

PAOLA: I want to live in that world.

NOOR: Me too.

SALWA: Let’s make it. I’d always tell my husband, if women ruled the world we would have that world we are talking about.

NOOR: That’s so true.

SALWA: I think there should be women leaders.

NOOR: Yes, agree. Strengths come from being a woman.

SALWA: They used to say all women shouldn’t be leaders because they are emotional. As a matter of fact, I think that’s a plus because when you’re emotional, then you’re in touch with everybody else’s feelings.

Look at the New Zealand prime minister. How she brings her country together in unity, whether you’re brown, black, blue or whatever you are. That’s a woman, a mother. She has a baby; she has empathy for the people. I think we need more women leaders. I think women are more compassionate. We’re humans. You shouldn’t be cold; you shouldn’t be without emotion or empathy for others.

PAOLA: Compassion is the answer for happiness. Thank you for your kindness and for having us in your home. And thank you for this delicious food and inspiring conversation.

NOOR: You’re very welcome.

PAOLA: I hope I can come back in the future.

SALWA: Anytime.

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ELISABETH HOLDER RABERIN

It may come as a surprise that Elisabeth Holder Raberin, the visionary behind the stateside expansion of French luxury confectioner Ladurée and its whimsical, rainbow-hued macarons, never envisioned herself working in the culinary world.

“The food business is really more male dominated,” explains Holder Raberin, co-president of Ladurée USA. “I think women give meals to their family every day, so in a way it’s ironic to have an industry that’s really masculine,” she says, recalling childhood memories spent with her grandmother at the bakery, filled with the scents of freshly baked goods. (“She knew every client by name and nobody could leave the store without a pastry or bread,” she says.)

It’s something she has witnessed since childhood, watching her parents, Francis and Francoise Holder, oversee Paul (her grandparents’ family bakery turned artisanal chain), in their hometown of Lille, France, and later with the family’s acquisition of Ladurée. Holder Raberin, the only girl and youngest of three (her eldest brother, David, is currently the chairman of Ladurée; Maxime oversees Paul International), was initially drawn to a career in fashion, working for the likes of Ralph Lauren, Et Vous and Hermès in their European and American markets—an experience, she says, that ultimately prepared her to step into her present-day universe of a luxury lifestyle brand inspired by pastries.

“Hermès has so many things in common with Ladurée because it’s a family business and the know-how is amazing,” says Holder Raberin, a graduate of the European Business School in Paris. “The clients are very specific and every client is unique. They want an experience when they go to Hermès and I think it’s the same thing at Ladurée. You’re not only buying a gown, you’re also experiencing the lifestyle.”

When Holder Raberin decided to join the family business in 2004 (“I think I got more mature and I wanted to work with my dad—I didn’t want to lose the opportunity for him to educate me,” she says), her father made her start from scratch, working her way up the ranks from a salesperson to overseeing Ladurée’s North American partnerships, development and operations with her husband, Pierre-Antoine Raberin. Together the couple resides in New York with their 9-year-old twin sons.

The family has settled into their way of life in America, which includes frequent trips to museums and traveling on weekends. But Ladurée’s French heritage remains at the heart of Holder Raberin’s work as she opens tearooms and restaurants around the country, including Miami, Los Angeles and Washington, D.C. The most important aspect, she says, is the knowledge and training of their chefs, followed by the signature ornate, color-splashed décor for which the brand’s locations around the world are known. “My father is an art collector, so he has a huge storage,” she says. “I love to put a few pieces in each store to bring a family feel.”

Holder Raberin was 15 when her family acquired Ladurée in 1993. At the time it was a singular, ornate tearoom and pastry shop (dating back to 1862) where the Holders would gather as a family on Saturdays while her brother was studying in Paris. She remembers it for the confections but also for the “best omelet ever,” plus delectable finger sandwiches and vol-au-vent. “It was like a small jewel, a rough jewel,” says Holder Raberin. “Because [my father] is an entrepreneur, he knew that buying Ladurée, he could [create] something, a beautiful brand, a worldwide brand.”

The macaron—a creamy ganache sandwiched between two almond-flour shells—was always the star of the show at Ladurée. But what started out as four flavors has evolved into an array of riffs on the signature dessert—orange blossom, caramel and blackcurrant violet among them, with the introduction of new flavors each season.

“It’s the supermodel of the pastry world. It’s very photogenic,” says Holder Raberin of the confection, which not only inspired candle and home fragrances but also led to collaborations with everyone from photographer Gray Malin to fashion houses including Lanvin. Recently, Vera Wang dreamed up an all-white coconut crème chantilly macaron and a mango-and-coconut wedding cake, inspired by her own bridal designs.

The ideal macaron, according to Holder Raberin, is “a very good balance between crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside,” and not too sweet, she says. For that, she turns to chef Claire Heitzler, head of patisserie, who has been tasked with bringing that perfection to every macaron bite (not to mention other sweets, including lemon-meringue tarts, vanilla flans and chocolate eclairs) while expanding the repertoire of flavors with new collections every three months.

What about her own challenges as a female in the workplace? “It’s more in my family,” she says with a laugh. “In my business I have to fight because I am younger and the only girl. Sometimes I have to remind them I’m not a 15-year-old.”

KIRSTEN GREEN

It’s uncommon to find women in the field of venture capital. How uncommon? As Kirsten Green recalls it, when she started her VC fund Forerunner just eight years ago, just the fact that there were three women running the firm was enough to garner headlines in the tech world, where even in 2016 a staggering 93 percent of partners at the 100 top VC firms were men. “I didn’t really have an intention of being all-female anything,” says Green on the phone from her office in San Francisco. “That wasn’t what I wanted to be associated with.”

Green—who has lived in the Bay Area her whole life except for her undergraduate years at UCLA—hadn’t hired the other two women on her team because of their gender. “When people would talk about the female thing, I would push back pretty hard and say, ‘Listen, I find the best person I can find right now,’ ” she says.

Segue to today: The headlines about Green aren’t about that she’s a woman. They come down to the fact that her company, which focuses its early-stage funding almost exclusively in the e-commerce sphere, has had one of Silicon Valley’s hottest investment streaks. Her prescient picks include two unicorns (i.e., startup companies that go on to be valued at more than $1 billion): Dollar Shave Club and Jet.com. Last year, research firm CB Insights ranked Green the 12th most important venture capitalist in the world. Of note is that 40 percent of the companies Forerunner has invested in are founded by women, including Reese Witherspoon’s Draper James, beauty products site Glossier and activewear brand Outdoor Voices. Here, too, though, Green emphasizes that “I have never invested in a male or a female. We do not have any mandate to invest in any type of entrepreneur other than one who is going to be successful.”

She credits her success to being in tune with how the online marketplace is evolving. “We really believe that today’s customer values service, either better service or a new form of service. Such as right now we are seeing businesses come to us with much more thoughtful approaches to personalization on a mass scale,” says Green, who often sees online shopping sites thriving when they are entertaining as well as useful. “People like the art of the hunt and they like the satisfaction of the find. Having something that does feel like entertainment and not just transactional is increasingly important.”

But while her firm engages in traditional analysis, due diligence and research, a good idea and business plan is rarely enough. Green—whose firm gets pitched about 1,800 companies a year and invests in less than one percent of those—feels passionately that she’s investing not just in companies but in people too. A new company needs a strong founder. “You know it when you meet somebody—it’s in their bones. There’s this kind of spark. It’s their everything project. Because one general premise is, it’s gonna take an extraordinary amount of resources and buy-in to get something off the ground and scale it,” she says, cautioning would-be founders: “It most likely will be harder than you think.”

Green is not enthusiastic about the idea of getting a degree in entrepreneurship. “I think people have been a bit confused about that. You’ve got people studying entrepreneurship as a major and coming out of school and thinking it’s a career. It’s not. It really is a calling.” She characterizes the types of proposals she’s most likely to reject as having “very general rudimentary criteria, like there’s going to be some kind of shift happening in a big market, where there is new technology advancing it or opportunity or lazy incumbents or a change in distribution strategy. They come in with kind of a manufactured idea along those lines,” says Green.

So did Green, who sold women’s clothing at Nordstrom when she was a teenager, feel she had a calling? Not early on, she readily admits. Act 1 of her career was working as a retail stock analyst. “I don’t think by nature I was particularly entrepreneurial to be honest with you. I was more on the safety end of the curve. I was pretty focused on having a secure job, knowing where my paycheck and health care were coming from. But over time I grew so passionate and convinced there was an opportunity that other people or firms weren’t addressing in this space.” So in 2003 she left her job, then worked as a consultant in the investing world before starting her firm in 2010.

Interestingly, Green decided she did want to start hiring based on gender in the last couple years. She’s added two male investment professionals to her team, which now numbers eight. “I’m always thinking, ‘What is the vantage point we don’t have’ and pretty quickly the answer became, ‘We don’t have a guy.’ It’s important to be really thoughtful about your team,” says Green. When it comes to new hires, “what we look for are great team players who have a passion, who know how to be both a follower and a leader. I’m a big believer that if you like what you are doing you have a better chance for success.”

At the same time, Green—who is married to a real estate entrepreneur and has two young children—also joined a new initiative to create a more welcome avenue for women in the VC world. Called Female Founder Office Hours (femalefounder.org), it creates a way for female entrepreneurs to get their business proposals seen by Silicon Valley’s powerhouse women. “We’re starting taking 40 slots to review pitches,” says Green, who sees the new group as partly inspired by the wave of sexual harassment revelations that are rocking the business world, including tech. “I think everybody is shocked by a lot of what they are reading and felt like they want to take some action. But as opposed to talking about all the bad behavior and the ways in which women have been held back over time, we said, let’s get together to build community amongst ourselves and shine a light.”

JEANNE DAMAS

Jeanne Damas never set out looking for fame, but it found her anyway. Since launching her first Tumblr account at age 13, the now-25-year-old Damas has become a digital force to be reckoned with, embraced by nearly a million Instagram followers for her snapshots of everyday life. Equal parts fashion diary and creative outlet, Damas’ feed ranges from pictures of casual dinner parties at home with friends in the 11th arrondissement to casual streetstyle snaps, artful portraits of her cat, Charlie, and the view from her front-row perch at New York Fashion Week.

Since 2016, Damas has also been pouring herself into her truest passion, Rouje, a ready-to-wear online clothing brand comprised of understated wardrobe essentials that Damas and her Parisian pals could—and do—wear in their own lives, from ‘70s inspired velvet overalls to oversize blazers and thigh-grazing knit dresses. “I wanted to create my own universe,” says Damas, who brought that vision to life with the help of her friends, including stylist Nathalie Dumeix and photographer Sophie Arancio.

Damas grew up in the 12th arrondissement, where life revolved around her parents’ popular brasserie, Le Square Trousseau (which they sold in 2007 before opening their current bistro, Philou), located downstairs from their apartment. Paris felt more like a village than a cosmopolitan city to Damas, who spent most of her formative years within a small radius of the restaurant. “Three or four streets were my home,” says Damas. “I knew everybody in the neighborhood.”

That included restaurant regulars such as designer Jean-Paul Gaultier (who helped open Damas’ eyes to the world of fashion with a high school internship at his Paris atelier) and shop owners such as Dumeix, whose namesake boutique was on the same street as her family’s restaurant. Every day after school, 12-year-old Damas would visit Dumeix, laying the foundations for a lifelong friendship. “It was the start of everything,” says Damas, who launched her Tumblr shortly afterwards as a way to document her everyday life.

Damas’ posts quickly caught the attention of her French peers (among them, fellow blogger Simon Porte Jacquemus, who went on to launch his namesake clothing line) and the fashion world, including contemporary brand Comptoir des Cottoniers, which tapped Damas, then 15, and her mother for one of its iconic campaigns. Soon after, designer Yasmine Eslami picked Damas as both a muse and collaborator.

Damas never dreamed that she would forge a career path with her online musings. “Ten years ago, Instagram and influencers didn’t exist,” she says. “An influencer as a job?” Damas spent five years after graduating high school going through what she calls a “little bit of a lost spell,” taking part-time theater classes in between modeling. But it was also time for Damas to reflect and observe and channel her energies. “Because of this period, I am who I am now, so I am happy.”

Last year, Damas teamed up with French journalist Lauren Bastide to turn her lens on the women who inspire her with their debut book, In Paris. The goal, says Damas, was to break down the tired cliché of the Parisian woman. Damas, who featured 20 people for the book, from friends to strangers off the street wanted to communicate the real beauty of the Parisian woman, not just the superficial: “Beauty is much more than a perfect face.”

Karmen Berentsen

Karmen Berentsen was 26 years old when she learned first-hand the power of a great outfit. After striking out on her own with a training solutions company, the young entrepreneur was faced with the prospect of presenting her products and vision to executives at Fortune 500 companies. “I needed some confidence,” she says. “And so I went to Neiman Marcus and bought an Armani suit. I spent more than I could afford on it but it fit me and I felt confident, powerful and sophisticated.” That day, Berentsen won the job.

Today, as the owner of Denver’s A Line Boutique, Berentsen is delivering that same sense of poise and fearlessness to her clients, who turn to the boutique not only for its thoughtful selection but also for its in-house team of professional stylists, versed in everything from curating single looks to travel packing and closet edits. It’s a business model that was inspired by European hospitality. “You’re met by someone who knows the collection and who can take one look at you and start pulling. They know how to style you. You’re in and you’re out.”

For Berentsen, the worlds of tech and fashion are more parallel than one might think. “I moved from literally creating self-sufficient, confident users through the right documentation and training methods to being part of helping women feel confident and self-sufficient, to feel the way I did. I think it’s so important and most often overlooked,” says Berentsen.

What’s different, however, is Berentsen’s mindset while building her companies—a change that happened after she sold her business, when she took time to press pause on things. Born in Minnesota and raised in Arizona and California, Berentsen and her sister were brought up by their single mother, who passed away while she was in high school.

After graduating from university, Berentsen threw herself into the workforce, eventually striking out on her own in the tech world. But it was the time in between that she began to experience a shift in her outlook on all aspects of life, work included. “I realized I wanted to work in an environment and industry I loved and in one where I could be a part of helping people feel like I did, to be a difference and be closer to home.”

Berentsen, now a mother of a young daughter, has abided by that philosophy. “With my first company, I mustered, I struggled, it was intense—I wasn’t who I wanted to be.” And what about now? “The effort is more in being intentional and kind and soulful and centered,” she says. “It’s letting that magic of the universe come in and be that rush, that energy, that ride and always seeing it through.”

Hillary Super

As the president of Anthropologie Group Apparel and Accessories, Hillary Super finds the most satisfaction helping women feel their best. “To hear our customer talk about the role our clothes play in her life and the joy they bring to her, it just makes me want to raise the bar in every way,” says Super. It’s also one of the reasons why she stepped into the role last year. “I feel like I can represent her,” says Super. “I have been her over the years. I feel extremely connected to the mission of what we do.”

Retail has been a prominent part of Super’s life ever since she was old enough to work. Raised in Arcadia, California, as the eldest of two sisters, Super landed her first job at age 14 selling clothing at the mall. “I loved the mall experience. I was definitely an early adopter in terms of fashion trends,” says Super, who was both artsy and academic (“but strongly preferred the artsy,” she says).

After her dreams of attending art school were sidelined by her father, who insisted that she first obtain a liberal-arts degree, Super opted to pursue a bachelor’s in women’s studies at the University of Southern California, while working at The Gap to fund her fashion addiction along the way.

Super planned to go into academia after graduation, until a friend’s father, who happened to be the CEO of the now-shuttered department-store chain Mervyn’s, stated the obvious: Super’s real passions lay in retail and fashion. “I didn’t even know what that career path was, or what it would look like,” says Super. “He basically introduced me to that and brought me into the training program there.”

In 1996, while working as a planner for Mervyn’s in the Bay Area, Super crossed paths with Kathy Bronstein, then CEO of  Wet Seal, who took a chance and hired Super as a buyer. Super credits Bronstein with not only teaching her everything about buying in retail and how to develop product but also for instilling in her an intense level of standards and discipline. “I think of her as being one of the most influential people in my career,” says Super.

Super went on to forge her own formidable path, working for Gap, Inc., in San Francisco as a senior merchandiser and later as a divisional merchandise manager for the company’s Old Navy brand—with stints in New York at Ann Taylor and New York and Company in between. In 2013, Super landed what she had always imagined to be her dream job of running a company with Guess North America in Los Angeles, only to depart the following year. For the first time in 20 years, Super took time off to relax, and also to re-examine her career priorities. “It was the job I thought I had always wanted, but actually, it was just what I was supposed to want. It didn’t make me happy at all.”

After a summer of traveling, sailing and reflecting, Super was pointed in the direction of Maris Collective, a small Santa Monica-based startup that brings retail to five-star resorts. For the next two years, Super learned everything she could about running a nontraditional retail business. “It really showed me that retail is not dead, because if you have a unique offering and you have a personal connection and experience, it will drive people to your store,” says Super, who applies that mindset to her current job, where “it’s all about delivering joy.”

One of the big things Super hears repeatedly through customer feedback at Anthropologie is how the brand makes them feel. “The fact that women don’t feel better about themselves in general is something that’s on my mind,” says Super. “Women tend to defer and apologize, and not speak the truth or make a direct statement because of the way they fear they’re going to be perceived—something I think just has to stop.”

Super remembers the first time she felt the glass ceiling, when she began working at a senior level in retail. “I remember the men in the room talking over the women and basically disregarding what they were saying in a way that was so blatant, I sat back in the room and thought, ‘Oh, this is what it feels like.’ ”

Her advice to other women: “Help each other,” she says. “There’s no reason for us to be competing against each other, because there’s room for all of us. The place that each of us is meant to be, we’ll find it.”

Inspired by “the Kathy Bronsteins of the world,” Super, who now splits her time between Philadelphia and Palm Springs, where she and her San Francisco-based partner have a home, is committed to being a role model for women in retail. “I was very lucky that my father and an early mentor [Kathy] both had the unwavering belief that I could do anything, and that really helped to form my own self-perceptions,” she says.

To that end, Super also acts as a coach and connects female entrepreneurs to resources through LDR Ventures, a venture capital fund that invests in women. “We all have those moments where we need someone to make a call for us, make the intro, recommend us, redirect us, give us some pointed feedback, and it takes purpose. It’s easy to forget or get busy, and we as women have to act with purpose and commit to helping each other along and to encouraging each other, instilling belief in one another. We can do it.”

ANNABELLE SELLDORF

Annabelle Selldorf is not one to play favorites. The New York architect, with an impressive and varied portfolio that includes museums like New York’s Neue Galerie, luxury Manhattan residential buildings and a state-of-the-art recycling facility in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, hesitates when asked about her artistic influences or a dream commission. “I cannot say,” she says. “I don’t think like that.”

Instead she is considered in speech and thoughtful in analysis about the impact of her work. “I think architecture is a very important artistic discipline. I often say it’s the mother of all arts,” she says. “It is a fact that when you build a building, it tends to stick around for a long time. It has a function not only to fulfill its utilitarian purpose but also to play a greater role in the lives of people in the urban environment. You walk by buildings every day and they imprint themselves in your memory and they can make a positive or a not very positive difference in your life. Our job is to be conscious of what we do.”

Selldorf’s conscious approach has been characterized as minimalist, modernist in the European tradition, and she’s also been called an artist’s architect since she has designed homes for David Salle and Eric Fischl and a studio for Jeff Koons. Yet in typical Selldorf fashion, she says, “I prefer not to compare myself to what others think or say.” Instead, she lets the work speak for itself, and her elegant, restrained structures have a distinct, seductive voice that summons one closer to marvel at the details.

Take the Chelsea gallery she designed for her close friend, the gallerist David Zwirner. The façade is strong, very gray, but upon closer examination the board-formed concrete, accented with teak wood, is its own canvas—a celebration of texture and pattern that never overpowers the art it’s meant to house but signals a greater purpose. “There has to be music or poetry or enlightenment to the work we do, a spiritual dimension, not like a church or a Zen moment, but an overall intangible artistic moment,” she says.

Her drive to design with purpose and a sense of transcendence can be traced to her childhood in Cologne, Germany. While it was bombed to smithereens during the second World War, and then rebuilt again with a modern Bauhaus influence, there still remained Romanesque churches and a gothic cathedral like the Dome of Cologne—all reminders of the symbiosis between the old and new world that informs her design. “That sort of hardship, loss of life and loss of civilization is something that may get transmitted epigenetically, and I think it shaped my ideas about cities and created a desire to maintain and take care of memories.”

“But these are big topics, beyond a small conversation like ours,” she adds, in a matter-of-fact manner. It’s not that she’s uncooperative; she’s genuinely very busy. With a staff of 65 at Selldorf Architects, who work from a Union Square building once home to Andy Warhol’s Factory, the firm grew organically from a single-person practice that Selldorf started soon after she graduated from the Pratt Institute.

Even though her father was an architect, she surmises living in New York influenced her career decision more than legacy. “It wasn’t like I knew what I wanted to do. In fact, I had every reason to think the very last thing I wanted to do in life was be an architect because it was a lot of work with little pay,” she explains. “But then in the end it happened quite naturally. All of a sudden there were a couple more people in the office, and then it became an organization, and now it’s grown into a collective experience.”

Architecture is notorious for being a male-dominated profession, yet within Selldorf’s practice three of the four partners are women, which may account for her collaborative approach. “Some say women are more interested in consensus. I often wonder, is that because of our gender or because we are brought up to be that way?” But she also notes that times have changed. When she first started, very few men asked her for a job, because, she says, “it was harder for men to work for a woman but today I think that’s completely irrelevant.”

And even though Selldorf has designed a Chelsea waterfront building next to those by male “star architect” Norman Foster, which will soon be flanked by yet another by Robert A.M. Stern, she admits, “We still have a long way to go to in this profession to sort out what the concept of equality may yield. Today we are in complicated times and you have to ask me about being a woman in architecture. Ideally, I don’t want anyone to think about me as a woman in architecture. I’d rather just be thought of as an excellent architect.”