"If you read Maricuela’s biography (or, as she calls it, her literary résumé), you immediately realize that her own life is already a story and probably needs no embellishment to the way she tells and invents. Of course, for any story to truly land, to be absorbed properly, to have charm, it needs a certain magic—and she has it. It’s that invisible, positive something that accompanies us and brings us to life. That natural ease that turns an idea or something imagined into words. Blessed be that quality—and the one who possesses it."
- Joaquín Díaz, musician, ethnographer, and folklorist

"Many years ago, Maricuela, with the help of her friends, built the house she lives in. The building has a central pivot on which everything else depends, and to shape the different spaces, the builders carefully molded the clay with their hands, using caresses as their construction technique. They embedded colored glass into the walls, because she wanted to invite the Rainbow to share her life.

It’s curious: when I think about the characteristics that define her storytelling style, I realize it is exactly the same. Starting from a central trunk—the tradition of her land—Maricuela gently shapes her stories until they reach the version that best resonates in her voice. To color the result, she simply adds a generous dose of her very distinctive sense of humor.

Maricuela has two identical houses: the first, the physical space where she lives; the second, the imaginary space she has been traveling through, in her unique style, for many decades. May she continue for many more years, because with her stories, she improves the lives of those of us lucky enough to listen to her."
- Blanca Calvo, librarian and cultural reference in Guadalajara

"She has that distracted yet aware air of solitary sparrows perched on your balcony; that untidy yet elegant look of great twentieth-century poets; that naive yet wise spirit of children who fill swings with songs; that calm yet wildly playful flair of clowns who devour the stage. Maricuela slips through the cracks, tickles your soul, and fills your heart with laughter."
- Marieta Monedero, stage director and theatre programmer

"MARICUELA is an artist with a voice the color of lettuce-blue, with a slow and slightly wild sense of time that honors her name. She floods the stage, the square, the school... wherever you place her, she sows words and pauses, stories to pass the time and tales to truly enjoy. She performs for all audiences—no one can resist her charm—and her art weaves everyone together like a tapestry of colors. She has been in the craft for many years—not as long as MariCastaña, perhaps—but I believe traces of that ancient storyteller live in her DNA. She belongs to these times and to those past, and perhaps to those yet to come—a true wonder of time. She never leaves anyone indifferent, because she is different and eloquent. And if you don’t believe me, go see her—and let her tell you herself."
- Eugenia Manzanera, storyteller, clown, and actress

"Maricuela: A haven of tenderness that can make you laugh to death."
- Pablo Albó, writer and storyteller

"She is playful, lively, and smiling, placing no limits on laughter—she lets it be part of her. She is my mother, joyful in her own unique way, not only on stage but wherever you meet her: at home, among friends, or anywhere else. Her stories, full of unhurried laughter, carry you from one place to another like the gentle rocking of a calm boat—perhaps with a few waves. Since I was little, she has woven a life of smiles, stories, and laughter for me, and even today I still laugh at the stories I’ve heard so many times. Because they are never the same—she changes, improvises, faces everything without fear, and above all, enjoys it. Because her work makes her happy and makes her who she is: Maricuela."
- Lucía Molina Ruiz, harpist

"Tenderness, poetry, humor... For me, watching a Maricuela performance is always inspiring."
- Alberto Gamón, illustrator

"Maricuela exists—of course she does! From Teruel, she reaches everywhere with her stories, her warmth, her smile, and her unique way of telling. Don’t miss her!"
- Carles Cano, writer and storyteller

"Maricuela is a clown.
And from that place—fragile, honest, and deeply human—she tells stories that gently disarm.

Her clowning doesn’t seek easy laughter, but the kind that comes from recognition: from seeing yourself in the awkward, the sensitive, in what tries and sometimes fails. On stage, Maricuela plays with error, silence, and gaze, allowing the audience to enter a universe where everything can transform.

As a clown and storyteller, she blends narration, body, and presence to create living, intimate performances full of nuance. There is humor, yes—but also tenderness, pause, and emotion. An invitation to lower your guard and look at the world with different eyes.

Maricuela believes in clowning as an act of courage: to show oneself as one is, without masks… except for the truest one of all.

And there is something more, said without artifice.
There is a deep trust in her work.

In the way she holds error without hiding it, in a presence that does not take up more space than necessary and yet leaves a mark. In what shifts when she steps on stage: something loosens, something listens, something remembers.

Her work does not force, push, or explain. It waits. It trusts in the sensitive intelligence of the audience. And when it ends, something remains—resonating—not as a lesson, but as a shared experience.

Because there are artists who entertain, and others who touch something deeper.
Maricuela belongs to the latter."
- LLuna Albert, clown, pedagogue, and stage director

"I truly enjoy listening to the stories Maricuela tells. She is a storyteller with a very personal style, combining resources to expand the story, to widen it, and to show it through her own curious and playful perspective. Listening to Maricuela—whether she tells traditional tales or authored stories—is always a celebration."
- Pep Bruno, storyteller, collector of tales, writer, and editor

"Maricuela is a woman straight out of a true storybook! With a delightful fragility that is her greatest strength."
- Jimena Cavalletti, stage director and clown

"The audience wants her to stay on stage, and she, enjoying herself, does not want to leave."
- Philippe Gaulier, clown, pedagogue, and director

"Maricuela is a guerrilla of words—she digs trenches with her joy where we can take shelter from the anger that stalks us. And her most powerful weapons are innocence and tenderness. Whoever listens to her only wishes to stay forever in one of the pockets of her skirt or move into one of her Sanquete villages."
- Ana Cristina Herrero, also known as Ana Griott, storyteller, writer, collector, and editor

"Once, many years ago, a storytelling artist crossed my path. That day, through the way she told stories, she taught me joy, imagination, wonder, and play.
- Who is she? I asked.
- Maricuela, someone replied.
And Maricuela has stayed in my imagination ever since, continuing to inspire my love for storytelling."
- Juan Madrigal, storyteller and programmer

"Maricuela’s words reach us without noise or excess, as delicate as a barely perceptible rain. Before we even realize it, they have taken root in our hearts, making unexpected stories and emotions bloom—ones we will never forget."
- Nono Granero, storyteller and illustrator

"Maricuela is the alter ego of María Molina. She flies, flutters, paints, and comforts with her stories. She is endearing, naive, like the characters that inhabit her narratives—always full of humor and impossible situations that, like the tales of Scheherazade, you wish would never end."
- Mariano Lasheras, actor and storyteller

"I don’t know whether Maricuela is a hummingbird, a bell, or a bee. I only know she is a seemingly fragile being who nests in the heart of anyone who listens, without asking permission—because honest words need no permission to reach the places where they become fruitful.

She places her clown essence at the service of a poetry that is as light as it is deep, as naive as it is wise. She carries you away and brings you back, embraces you, soothes you, shakes you, and leaves you with the face of a child discovering that magic is as real as life. She is a storyteller with the strength and fragility needed to make the craft seduce, gather, and transcend."
- Aldo Méndez, storyteller and writer

"They say that those who understand invisible threads tell of Roberto Piumini in Italy, who spent nights refining words like polishing glass. He thought he was writing for paper, for the silence of libraries, or for the wonder of some distant child. What he didn’t know—poor wise man—is that each phrase he wrote was secretly traveling into the Cuchufleta suitcase of someone called Maricuela.

Maricuela has two noses—both of a clown. And she has three lungs: the right, the left, and the accordion. These are the instruments that give music to the clouds she draws. When the bellows open and close, it seems the story itself is breathing to stay alive. It is the soundtrack of her resistance against boredom, the echo of that girl who was forbidden stories and ended up turning them into her very breath—into a constant whisper of an extremely fragile, smiling strength… but so very playful."
- Oswaldo Felipe Royo, storyteller, actor, and sky photographer

"Maricuela keeps the funniest stories I’ve ever heard in her pockets.
And she tells them with the secret magic her grandfather taught her.
She knows how to move you and embrace you through her stories.
What is she like? Simply wonderful."
- Ana García Castellanos, writer and storyteller

"Listening to Maricuela is like stepping through the looking glass and diving into worlds where anything can happen. Her way of telling stories, full of nuance, gestures, and emotion, captivates—and always, always brings a smile (or two, or many more)."
- Cristina Temprano, storyteller and programmer

"Maricuela came into the world with her pockets already full of stories. The doctors said nothing—they knew there was no cure.

She has a clown’s nose and a child’s gaze to make you laugh through humor and connection, so you never forget that wonder and curiosity are gifts we are born with—and should never lose.

Maricuela doesn’t tell stories—she lets them fly, so they can land wherever you need to hear them: on the windowsill you look out from, on the branches growing from your arms, on the roots holding your feet, or in the clouds that sometimes rain through your eyes.

Her stories don’t end when she falls silent—they end much later, somewhere inside you. And there they stay, smiling. Completely at ease."
- Isabel Sánchez Fernández, librarian and cultural manager