My first memory was sitting in my high chair, as my grandfather pour out a little foam from the top of his beer glass into an egg cup for me to try.
My family left Argentina before I was a year old. We lived in Caracas, Venezuela, until I was five, then came to the UK and lived in Morecombe Bay, and then Lancaster, before finally settling in London just before I started secondary school.
I’ve inherited my parents love of food. We always had guests around the dinner table. So having friends or family over and cooking for them has always been one of my favourite ways of spending time with the people I care about.
I've been most influenced by the women in my family. My paternal grandmother was a doctor in Europe, but had to re-validate her degree in order to practice in Argentina when she arrived there after the Second World War. So she was working in a restaurant during the day, bringing up her young family, and then studying at night until she was able pass all the exams and practice medicine again. Even as a child I admired her and thought she seemed so capable and strong.
I first started watching films at the children’s Saturday afternoon matinee at the Dukes Playhouse in Lancaster. Even aged eight or nine years old I could spend hours in the cinema. I've been inspired by all the Richard Linklater films I’ve seen in some way. There’s such humanity in his film-making. Boyhood made me think about how transient yet beautiful life is, and how important it is to savour every moment.
I didn’t have any other Latin American friends until I was about 15 or 16. It was only after I finished my undergraduate degree and went to live in Argentina that I realised what I’d been missing out on. The fact that I discovered that side of my culture later in life instilled in me a real passion for everything Argentine and Latin American and made me want to bring it closer to London.
In 2002 when I was in Argentina, I heard a film crew were looking for a Production Co-ordinator and a bi-lingual Interpreter to go with them to the Falklands and shoot a film threre. That was my first experience working in film and it made me realise that that was what I wanted to do. As I had a background in PR and Marketing I went about setting up a film promotion agency in Buenos Aires which I ran until I moved back to London in 2011. I’ve been working in film for over 15 years now and still get a buzz from being a part of the industry.
The biggest obstacle in my career has definitely been the perception of Latin America and the very limited knoledge people in the UK had of Latin American cinema and culture even as recently as 10 years ago. Thankfully this has changed in the last decade. But for me it has been a long road of building relationships and raising awareness of films from Argentina and other parts of Latin America so we can now see them in cinemas every year here and not just at the occasional screening.
The best piece of advice I’ve been given is something called the ‘red thread’ which is based on the Greek myth of Theseus who had to fight the Minotour in the maze. Theseus realised that it was just as important to find his way out of the maze as to kill the Minotour and so he took in a ball of red thread to find his way out. . My friend told me that it more important to find my My red thread - the path I needed to be on to find my way in life - than to fight any battle. Once I realised this I abandoned my rigid way of thinking about my career and things started falling into place.
I feel its an achievement whenever I see the films and events I’ve worked on regularly covered in the UK press…the many, many sold out screenings over the years and seeing the audience engage with the filmmakers at the Q&A have been truly amazing.
Working life in Argentina is very different to the UK. Working relationships are in Argentina are maybe less formal, the lines between friends and colleagues more blurred, but there’s also more warmth there. That’s something I’ve tried to incorporate here with the teams I’ve recruited and managed: I hope that the people that work with me feel that there is a relationship there, and that they are supported and valued. Ultimately it’s about listening to people and showing them you care.
Before Covid I was out at events most evenings and home was just a place to re-charge my batteries. Now I chat with my neighbours and know the postman, am on first-name terms with the people who run the local coffee shops, as well as other fellow dog-owners, and generally feel much more connected to where I live. So in that sense the last 18 months have been really positive.
The best and worst things that happened to me in London have always involved trying to get home late at night on public transport. I’ve met some great people but there’s also a kind of lawlessness in London at night that can make some people behave in truly horrible ways.
My most memorable encounter with a stranger happened waiting for a bus one night after finishing a shift at a pub (my first job after uni). It was winter and it was absolutely freezing. There were a few of us at the bus stop and we waited for what seemed like hours but the bus never came. Someone at the bus stop called a friend and we all went back to their house and ending up camping out for the night on their living room floor. Six months later I ran into one of the guys on a street in Buenos Aires. We went for a drink and started dating.
My perfect Sunday in London… Sunday roast and pints by the river. Or an impromptu gig on a Sunday evening to make you feel like the weekend isn’t quite over. I love: Soho – it’s changed a lot over the years but still has a creative vibe to it that has nothing to do with hipsters or coffee - the stretch of river between Hammersmith and Kew – I love standing on the top of Barnes Bridge and just gaping at the Thames and how wide it is and Goldborne Rd and Portobello. My favourite place to eat in London is Fish tacos and classic margaritas at Tacos el Pastor in Borough Market.
When I think of home I think of the people I love who are far away. I spend time with some Spanish-speaking friends. Just re-connecting with the language and culture makes things feel less distant.
I’ve learned to value consistency. I used to believe if you had talent, things just happened overnight. I didn’t realise that you still have to work at it and put the hours in.
I’d tell my younger self…Don’t worry about fitting in and try to embrace who you are.
