University of Toronto wordmark
 
 
 

Alumni: Giving U of T more reasons to be proud

 
Theodore Witzel

TAEDON WTZTEL DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE.

ted witzel, u of t ’08.

a recent grad of u of t’s university college drama program, ted witzel
is currently working abroad at the staatstheater stuttgart.  ted is
the co-artistic director of the red light district, an theatre company
he founded with former alumnus catherine dunn.  since graduating, ted
has traveled to germany to assist director johanna schall, with whom
he studied during his final year at u of t, at the bad hersfelder
festspielen.  while back in germany, ted will be assisting on
sebastian baumgarten’s production of bulgakov’s die flucht (the
flight), and preparing three productions for toronto next year.

as ted doesn’t know anyone in stuttgart really, his former u of t
professor and mentor pia kleber suggested starting this blog, and
being the opinionated exhibitionist he is, ted willingly agreed.  here
he will make some attempt to describe his experiences in both the
german and canadian theatre scenes that thankfully will not follow a
compare/contrast essay form.

(for more on the red light district, check out www.theredlightdistrict.ca).

  •  

xii. home.

Wednesday, February 17 2010 01:33:03 PM

word y'all—


aight.  first order of business is apologies for the lack of updates.  i realized this weekend it was two months since i'd been back, and therefore, two months since i had updated.  more than.  oi.  


reason being?  don't actually know.  being catapulted back into my own life.  being back around friends and family and swept up in the xmas cyclone.  catching up with the scads of people i've not seen for over seven months, some more.  trying to prepare two productions for the coming year.  training to become an esl teacher.  god knows, i've just been so relieved to speak english all over that i don't need to puke out mothertongue via blog as mental catharsis.  


here is a short overview of what has changed so far.  


BEING "HOME."


i've been home for two months, and i can't decide if that's way shorter or way longer than it feels like.  most days, i barely remember that i was in germany for most of last year.  amazing how fast one slips back into the routine—here i know where to get the best groceries (oh how kensington market was missed), what the fastest bike routes are; every alley and side street is a story and and intersection of historical vectors.  the landmarks are there, the air smells how i remember it, the TTC is more infuriating than ever.  


on the other hand, there's the "catching up."  years ago, i was a social animal.  there wasn't a night of the week when i wasn't meeting some friend for some reason or other, i managed to juggle a social circle of almost fifty with admirable dexterity.  as years wore on (well, ok, i'm not really that old, i'm really talking about all of seven years here) i lost the energy and motivation to keep all those balls in the air.  i have a rather small, close, and tight circle now, and like it that way.  but when one has just returned from as long a bout away as i, all the friends, distant and near, demand time.  i have seen a lot of people since coming home, most only the requisite once for a drink and to catch up.  interesting how those social constellations change though.  coming back has allowed me to reconnect with a few people i haven't been in regular contact with for years, and it's refreshing to find that we're suddenly in the same city again, and have interests that synch up.  and those are the people with whom one can hit the ground running, and never have been gone.  


but then there's the feeling that the world orbited the sun three times in my absence.  in eight months, a lot can happen, and not just to your hairstyle.  people i was once close with are living totally different lives now, their lives (obviously, but somehow surprisingly) went on full speed in my absence.  there are plans to move, or some have moved.  some are married, some have lost parents, some are suddenly gay, and some have experienced tremendous successes that i wish i could have shared.  it's when i notice these things i feel like i spent 4 years on mars rather than seven months in germany.   


ESL TEACHING.  


so, for as long as i can really remember; since before i was old enough to legally do it; i've been serving tables.  there was actually a time when i was younger when i longed for a chance to do it.  i lied about my age to get my first gig at a vegetarian cafe in my hometown.  i can't even remember the appeal now; maybe it was just an unconscious premonition that theatre was to be my vocation and i hadn't heard of a theatre artist who wasn't a server or a bartender.  maybe i just thought at that flair bartending in that tom cruise film was hot.  this is before i understood what scientology was.  


i'm not a bad server either; you may not get service with a smile but i'll bust my balls to get it to you fast and exactly how you ordered it.  the german efficiency that's innate in me.  my favourite job i've ever had was serving at the hot box cafe in kensington market (yes, laugh all ye who doubt, but i met some of the most important people in my life through that experience, aside from the obvious benefits of working at a den of iniquity).  


i even ended up serving in stuttgart on my few days off.  the cafe where i ended up spending most of my time writing on this very blog (being the only place with internet in my hood) needed extra hands.  i was happy to help, although drink names in german are REALLY different.  


but i'm just really fXXXing done with it.  sitting in germany knowing this life of paid theatre work was coming to a close, i was seized with bouts of nausea every time i thought on pulling out the old black apron and trying to be courteous again.  catherine got this teaching gig at an esl school back in the spring and the hours sounded great—9-2 monday to friday.  and decent money too.  so for the past month, i've been getting certified as an esl teacher.  friday i finished the course and was hired on the spot; today was my first day teaching.  it's surprisingly like directing.  lesson plan as a rehearsal plan; how to keep 12 people productively busy for 5 hours a day; directing improvisations; focusing intensely on language—and being the klugsheißer (cleversh*tter) i am, it comes somewhat naturally.  and having just had to learn a new language, it's given me a whole new perspective and interest in linguistics, communication, and especially how language is acquired.  


FINDING WORK.


i think i've already established in great detail the vast gulf (abyss?) between canadian and german theatre cultures.  even as i left germany, opportunities were presenting themselves to me.  opportunities to be paid for theatre.  not so in canada.  one has to seek out established artists willing to act as mentors, and then get down on one's knees and beg the government for the "professional development" support necessary to make them happen.  


i'm rather lucky to have the support of pia (from the UCDP) who knows everyone who's anyone, dead or alive (she has a great grandfather who was tight with napoleon even).  she has connected me with daniel brooks, probably the most successful UCDP grad in recent history, and i will be assisting him on his upcoming collaboration with john mighton.  really exciting, for two reasons: i) their collaborations have yielded some of the best theatre in toronto in the last decade; and ii)  daniel's work is NOTHING like mine, especially when he works with mighton.  i think it'll be a good learning experience.  


for the last year and a half, i have been independently pursuing an apprenticeship with peter hinton, artistic director at the NAC.  i was first exposed to his work as a teenager in stratford, and his production of the duchess of malfi there in 2006 had a huge influence on my first red light district show, titus andronicus!.  i was supposed to be in ottawa this fall but for various reasons chose stuttgart instead.  i reconnected with him a few weeks back to see if such an opportunity might be available next season, and it seems like it is.  so that involves writing a grant for the metcalf foundation to try and make it happen.


tied into this grant is another opportunity i've had come up with the magnetic north theatre festival—which is happening this year in my good ole hometown of kitchener waterloo.  it looks as though we'll try to wrap work with NAC and mag/north into one grant and i might spend 8 months in ottawa next year.  not the city of my dreams, but hey, nor was stuttgart.  and it would be some canadian cred on my CV.   


PROJECTS.


so, i've got two on the go right now.  (héloïse and abelard is on hold at the moment).  


the WITCH of edmonton:


i am in the process of jumping through flaming bureaucratic holes to get approval to do a site-specific horror show in high park this august.  i'm really curious about whether it's possible to achieve real fear in a theatrical sense.  also, high park is one of my favourite things about toronto, and i would be fulfilling a long-time fantasy by doing a show there.  i really miss eliza-jacobean theatre (shakespeare's where i started), and haven't done one since titus.  and this one in particular is fascinating, as an exploration of community, ostracism, and exclusion, as well as the main plot's fascinating narrative of self-appropriation.  i want to do another huge cast show, and have a ton of actors i know would be perfect for a show like this.  this kind of all-encompassing "immersive" theatre is what i've been making in various forms for years, and this would be a fascinating next step.  and i've never done open air.  it's in planning stages still, but it WILL happen.  


WOYZECK:


so there's been lots of talk about this one here already, but it's really happening.  


i have finished all my casting, and begun rehearsals.  i have pretty much the cast i was gunning for—half people i have worked with before, and half new faces.  


we've also gotten a small grant from canstage, which is great, and staged readings have been programmed into two festivals; the UCDP festival in late march, and the canstage festival of ideas and creation in may.  


i have a wicked production team in place—strange for me somehow.  by now i guess red light district has done enough work to be known and respected by current students at the UCDP, and we've had volunteers jumping at opportunities.  this is the biggest crew i've ever worked with, and i'm trying (REALLY TRYING) to force myself to delegate work.  at this point, in order to be successful, i have to, but it's tough to relinquish absolutist power and control over all departments.  and i have a big enough team and people i've worked with long enough o know how it works.  it's an experiment.  


we built the opening sequence this weekend, based on an idea johanna and i conceived back in october, and i was astounded at how well it worked.  we breezed through it.  and wow have i ever missed directing.  i was more high strung than all the actors together in that rehearsal.  but it's definitely theatrical.  and it gives us something to work from.  


since the concept hinges on an incorporation of circus elements, i've also started doing aerial acrobatics classes at the centre of gravity studios here in toronto.  i leave feeling as though my arms are swollen to the point of falling off, but it's wicked fun, and great to be working in my body again.  i haven't isolated movement from text since i graduated, and this is right up my alley.  i'm not much of a yoga person; i like to be training towards and end, and i like developing skills / virtuosity.  also, i'm very much of the opinion that a director can't ask anything of actors he won't try himself.  so if i can do a backflip, they can stiltwalk.  and i've got leverage therefore.  


i've been madly writing more and more grant apps and trying to raise funds for it.  this is a production on a scale that i've never before operated on, and it needs this funding to be successful.  knock wood for me, y'all.  


alright, i will continue to post with more updates on my projects and all else that comes up.

Tags:

xii. home.

Wednesday, February 17 2010 01:33:02 PM

word y'all—


aight.  first order of business is apologies for the lack of updates.  i realized this weekend it was two months since i'd been back, and therefore, two months since i had updated.  more than.  oi.  


reason being?  don't actually know.  being catapulted back into my own life.  being back around friends and family and swept up in the xmas cyclone.  catching up with the scads of people i've not seen for over seven months, some more.  trying to prepare two productions for the coming year.  training to become an esl teacher.  god knows, i've just been so relieved to speak english all over that i don't need to puke out mothertongue via blog as mental catharsis.  


here is a short overview of what has changed so far.  


BEING "HOME."


i've been home for two months, and i can't decide if that's way shorter or way longer than it feels like.  most days, i barely remember that i was in germany for most of last year.  amazing how fast one slips back into the routine—here i know where to get the best groceries (oh how kensington market was missed), what the fastest bike routes are; every alley and side street is a story and and intersection of historical vectors.  the landmarks are there, the air smells how i remember it, the TTC is more infuriating than ever.  


on the other hand, there's the "catching up."  years ago, i was a social animal.  there wasn't a night of the week when i wasn't meeting some friend for some reason or other, i managed to juggle a social circle of almost fifty with admirable dexterity.  as years wore on (well, ok, i'm not really that old, i'm really talking about all of seven years here) i lost the energy and motivation to keep all those balls in the air.  i have a rather small, close, and tight circle now, and like it that way.  but when one has just returned from as long a bout away as i, all the friends, distant and near, demand time.  i have seen a lot of people since coming home, most only the requisite once for a drink and to catch up.  interesting how those social constellations change though.  coming back has allowed me to reconnect with a few people i haven't been in regular contact with for years, and it's refreshing to find that we're suddenly in the same city again, and have interests that synch up.  and those are the people with whom one can hit the ground running, and never have been gone.  


but then there's the feeling that the world orbited the sun three times in my absence.  in eight months, a lot can happen, and not just to your hairstyle.  people i was once close with are living totally different lives now, their lives (obviously, but somehow surprisingly) went on full speed in my absence.  there are plans to move, or some have moved.  some are married, some have lost parents, some are suddenly gay, and some have experienced tremendous successes that i wish i could have shared.  it's when i notice these things i feel like i spent 4 years on mars rather than seven months in germany.   


ESL TEACHING.  


so, for as long as i can really remember; since before i was old enough to legally do it; i've been serving tables.  there was actually a time when i was younger when i longed for a chance to do it.  i lied about my age to get my first gig at a vegetarian cafe in my hometown.  i can't even remember the appeal now; maybe it was just an unconscious premonition that theatre was to be my vocation and i hadn't heard of a theatre artist who wasn't a server or a bartender.  maybe i just thought at that flair bartending in that tom cruise film was hot.  this is before i understood what scientology was.  


i'm not a bad server either; you may not get service with a smile but i'll bust my balls to get it to you fast and exactly how you ordered it.  the german efficiency that's innate in me.  my favourite job i've ever had was serving at the hot box cafe in kensington market (yes, laugh all ye who doubt, but i met some of the most important people in my life through that experience, aside from the obvious benefits of working at a den of iniquity).  


i even ended up serving in stuttgart on my few days off.  the cafe where i ended up spending most of my time writing on this very blog (being the only place with internet in my hood) needed extra hands.  i was happy to help, although drink names in german are REALLY different.  


but i'm just really fXXXing done with it.  sitting in germany knowing this life of paid theatre work was coming to a close, i was seized with bouts of nausea every time i thought on pulling out the old black apron and trying to be courteous again.  catherine got this teaching gig at an esl school back in the spring and the hours sounded great—9-2 monday to friday.  and decent money too.  so for the past month, i've been getting certified as an esl teacher.  friday i finished the course and was hired on the spot; today was my first day teaching.  it's surprisingly like directing.  lesson plan as a rehearsal plan; how to keep 12 people productively busy for 5 hours a day; directing improvisations; focusing intensely on language—and being the klugsheißer (cleversh*tter) i am, it comes somewhat naturally.  and having just had to learn a new language, it's given me a whole new perspective and interest in linguistics, communication, and especially how language is acquired.  


FINDING WORK.


i think i've already established in great detail the vast gulf (abyss?) between canadian and german theatre cultures.  even as i left germany, opportunities were presenting themselves to me.  opportunities to be paid for theatre.  not so in canada.  one has to seek out established artists willing to act as mentors, and then get down on one's knees and beg the government for the "professional development" support necessary to make them happen.  


i'm rather lucky to have the support of pia (from the UCDP) who knows everyone who's anyone, dead or alive (she has a great grandfather who was tight with napoleon even).  she has connected me with daniel brooks, probably the most successful UCDP grad in recent history, and i will be assisting him on his upcoming collaboration with john mighton.  really exciting, for two reasons: i) their collaborations have yielded some of the best theatre in toronto in the last decade; and ii)  daniel's work is NOTHING like mine, especially when he works with mighton.  i think it'll be a good learning experience.  


for the last year and a half, i have been independently pursuing an apprenticeship with peter hinton, artistic director at the NAC.  i was first exposed to his work as a teenager in stratford, and his production of the duchess of malfi there in 2006 had a huge influence on my first red light district show, titus andronicus!.  i was supposed to be in ottawa this fall but for various reasons chose stuttgart instead.  i reconnected with him a few weeks back to see if such an opportunity might be available next season, and it seems like it is.  so that involves writing a grant for the metcalf foundation to try and make it happen.


tied into this grant is another opportunity i've had come up with the magnetic north theatre festival—which is happening this year in my good ole hometown of kitchener waterloo.  it looks as though we'll try to wrap work with NAC and mag/north into one grant and i might spend 8 months in ottawa next year.  not the city of my dreams, but hey, nor was stuttgart.  and it would be some canadian cred on my CV.   


PROJECTS.


so, i've got two on the go right now.  (héloïse and abelard is on hold at the moment).  


the WITCH of edmonton:


i am in the process of jumping through flaming bureaucratic holes to get approval to do a site-specific horror show in high park this august.  i'm really curious about whether it's possible to achieve real fear in a theatrical sense.  also, high park is one of my favourite things about toronto, and i would be fulfilling a long-time fantasy by doing a show there.  i really miss eliza-jacobean theatre (shakespeare's where i started), and haven't done one since titus.  and this one in particular is fascinating, as an exploration of community, ostracism, and exclusion, as well as the main plot's fascinating narrative of self-appropriation.  i want to do another huge cast show, and have a ton of actors i know would be perfect for a show like this.  this kind of all-encompassing "immersive" theatre is what i've been making in various forms for years, and this would be a fascinating next step.  and i've never done open air.  it's in planning stages still, but it WILL happen.  


WOYZECK:


so there's been lots of talk about this one here already, but it's really happening.  


i have finished all my casting, and begun rehearsals.  i have pretty much the cast i was gunning for—half people i have worked with before, and half new faces.  


we've also gotten a small grant from canstage, which is great, and staged readings have been programmed into two festivals; the UCDP festival in late march, and the canstage festival of ideas and creation in may.  


i have a wicked production team in place—strange for me somehow.  by now i guess red light district has done enough work to be known and respected by current students at the UCDP, and we've had volunteers jumping at opportunities.  this is the biggest crew i've ever worked with, and i'm trying (REALLY TRYING) to force myself to delegate work.  at this point, in order to be successful, i have to, but it's tough to relinquish absolutist power and control over all departments.  and i have a big enough team and people i've worked with long enough o know how it works.  it's an experiment.  


we built the opening sequence this weekend, based on an idea johanna and i conceived back in october, and i was astounded at how well it worked.  we breezed through it.  and wow have i ever missed directing.  i was more high strung than all the actors together in that rehearsal.  but it's definitely theatrical.  and it gives us something to work from.  


since the concept hinges on an incorporation of circus elements, i've also started doing aerial acrobatics classes at the centre of gravity studios here in toronto.  i leave feeling as though my arms are swollen to the point of falling off, but it's wicked fun, and great to be working in my body again.  i haven't isolated movement from text since i graduated, and this is right up my alley.  i'm not much of a yoga person; i like to be training towards and end, and i like developing skills / virtuosity.  also, i'm very much of the opinion that a director can't ask anything of actors he won't try himself.  so if i can do a backflip, they can stiltwalk.  and i've got leverage therefore.  


i've been madly writing more and more grant apps and trying to raise funds for it.  this is a production on a scale that i've never before operated on, and it needs this funding to be successful.  knock wood for me, y'all.  


alright, i will continue to post with more updates on my projects and all else that comes up.

Tags:

eleven. wrapping up.

Saturday, December 12 2009 04:01:29 AM

so since the premiere two weeks ago i have been running around france and germany taking care of all the unfinished business i had here, christmas shopping, and such.  

first, due to some mix-up in stuttgart, our russian guest-player was unable to play two of the performances.  for some reason the idea came up to ask me to do it.  (rather than, you know, someone maybe fluent in german?)  so after a couple days recovering in berlin, i caught a train back to stuttgart to play the first of these shows.  the part's not exactly huge, the character is described as "orderly krapilin, destroyed by his own eloquence." which is a bit of a laugh considering he has about four sentences before he gets killed and then wanders around the rest of the play as a ghost with pizza dough wrapped around his head.  there's also a strange scene in the middle where he plays a drunken kazan cockroach master.  also no text.  

so, despite the relatively small amount of text entailed, acting in a foreign language is something kind of frightening.  it's like walking onstage and suddenly realizing you've got a mouth full of sand and stones and can't spit them out to start talking.  i'm happily oblivious most of the time of my thick english accent but on the stage when you are focused on actually articulating yourself you are suddenly aware that the way the muscles in your mouth have formed is just totally inconducive to making the required sounds.  the sound of the gunfire was a welcome relief.  

also, this understudying business is a difficult one.  instead of getting any kind of run through, i was given a 20 minute run-down of where i had to be and when, and what i generally had to do.  one's body has no muscle-memory to fall back on, you just go completely from your head, which is an awkward way to act.  

anyway, i survived it, made some extra cash, and got my tickets from berlin to stuttgart and then stuttgart to paris paid for by the theatre.  

in paris catherine and i had some film footage to get for a project we're developing for next summer, so armed with two medieval monastic costumes and a video camera, we spent five days walking through the whole city filming stuff with no permissions and generally ending up in a lot of tourist photos.  i guess it's not often that you see a monk and a nun throwing broken furniture into the seine.  

we were lucky to only have one run-in with the french authorities, otherwise people we quite nice.  we were very quick to announce we were canadian immediately when someone asked us what we were doing, and the french treated us with all the politeness normally reserved for kids with mental disabilities.  of all the times for the police to bother us, we got busted in a suburb of paris called argenteuil, looking for the ruins of a convent where héloïse was brought up.  i only had an address from the internet, so we went to the area and started wandering around.  paris, which usually looks like a total stereotype of itself, does not look like paris in argenteuil.  it looks closer to detroit.  i thought i saw the ruins behind a fence on boulevard héloïse, so naturally we jumped the fence to look around.  they were ruins, but certainly not 1000 years old.  so we left to keep looking, and a cop van pulled up alongside, four totally armed cops jumped out and surrounded us.  

to be fair, i guess two strangers in black coats with a big duffel bag jumping a fence to explore an abandoned lot is kind of sketchy.  but we played the canadian card first, and when they searched the bag and found only a camera and a nun's habit, they looked pretty disappointed.  we explained what we were doing, and three of the cops had no idea where the ruins were, but the fourth sent us down the street.  across from the supermarket beside the housing projects.  yep.  silly canadians.  

we got most of the film material down, in between rainstorms, and ate rather well along the way.  catherine looks great in the filming but i'm not totally thrilled with myself in it.  basically i think i'm too young for the part, and that shows up in my movement.  but we'll see.  thankfully catherine is much more prominent in the film, abelard spends his time behind the camera more than anything.  and anyway, it's for a stage piece and will be quite heavily edited.  

then back to stuttgart to play another show and begin a long string of farewells.  god i hate saying goodbye.  i have no idea if i'll ever find myself back in that city (maybe to see some theatre, but it's no vacation destination), so it was hard saying goodbye to the friends i've made there.  yesterday i flew to berlin and saw a friend from the summer playing in some fairytales at monbijou park, and we also did the goodbye thing.  

on a side note, this theatre in the park is a pretty successful berlin cultural anchor.  in the summer they build a little amphitheatre connected to one of the beloved beach bars and play shakespeare and other classics in open air.  winters, the theatre is deconstructed but the organization (which also owns one of the balhäuse on auguststrasse here) had an old cabin imported from poland where they serve german glühwein (mulled wine) and play a bunch of grimm's fairytales in rep.  afternoons are for kids, evenings are reserved for the bloodier and more perverted renditions for adults.  they run all winter but it seems to be a big xmas traidition here, people meet to exchange gifts, drink glühwein, and see 30 minute fairytales.  it's a great idea, and sometimes the stagings are even interesting.  they played a lovely bloody cannibalistic feast last night called "junipertree"—one of the ones less-known in english.  claudia is a lovely actress; i've now seen her play in both our kleist in bad hersfeld, and also three of these fairy tales, and her range is extraordinary.  she played a psychotic child-cooking stepmother with brilliant physicality (especially for such a tiny stage).  she has her signature moves (a lovely giggle that she knows melts everyone's hearts), but still manages to bring a totally new physicality to everything she does.  and it helps that she's straight up good people.  i can see why hanna liked her so much in rostock and casts her whenever she can.  i would too.  

tomorrow i start the great schlepp back to canada.  i have acquired a whole extra duffel bag here and have to spend the night in paris, flying into orly and out of de gaulle, sleeping in a hostel.  altogether i think my luggage is about half my body weight.  but monday i will be back in snowy canada, which will be something of a shock.  

strange somehow that i've spent more than half of this year in germany—the work has been fantastic, the theatre i've seen has been at least interesting if not always good (though some was brilliant), and the entire experience has changed how i look at theatre.  however, i'm itching to get home and doing some of my own work—i like assisting, but it's no long-term vocation for me.  sitting still and taking notes is not my dream job.  i like to be active, jumping around, putting ideas onstage as fast as they come into me head.  i have seen so much in terms of new techniques and aesthetics here in the last here, and have ideas coming out my ears for shows.  i'm dying to get started, and can't wait to get home and see everyone too.  

aight, that's the last y'all will here from europe (for now).  i'll keep writing from canada though.
Tags:

zehn. premiere, etc.

Wednesday, December 02 2009 12:44:49 PM

alright, it's been a while.  es tut mir leid.  

we had our premiere on the weekend and i had hoped to post more often during the final weeks but obviously didn't get around to it.  it was pretty chaotic.  

it actually was reassuring in a way, that such chaos could break loose in a well-funded professional theatre.  i had an experience on one show i did where i lost an actor with two weeks to go, the venue rental went awry, and the s**t basically hit the fan.  it was all we could do to haul that show off the ground.  well this production faced worse.  mostly due to everyone's favourite fear-mongering pandemic.  

actually i just read about the epic rate of misdiagnosis in canada, and i think it's the same here.  actually, they don't test you for "schweinegrippe" here, if you've got A flu, it's probably THE mexicanpigflu.  

first to drop was our assistant in chief, which meant that dorothee and i had to hold down the fort for the second-last week.  12 hour rehearsals, scheduling, tech notes, directing critique, etc.  that was fine.  except that the next day we lost an actress for a week.  then just as they were well enough to come back, the stage designer, composer, and another actress got hit with it, in our final week.  we did a run of everything without that actress that went disastrously and i was curious if the director would even come back.  it was a very sound-heavy show (sebastian is an opera director and loves him some sound cues—we're talking over 200) and there were maybe four cues that worked without the composer there.  

we only got the sick actress back the day before we premiered (we had contemplating flying in a replacement, but didn't go with that), and due to combined absences, there was one scene we hadn't seen in two weeks.  basically we put the play as together as possible (a deconstructivist approach to directing means that together is a relative term), teched it, and ran it.  

in the end, i felt like the show had some really effective images, some really striking moments, but it ran at 2.5 hours (no pause), and due to a whole variety of factors it wasn't what it could have been.  a number of friends and family came to see it, and aside from my parents who don't speak german (and slept through it), most people had a lot of trouble following the story.  

johanna commented to me that it was very castorf* with more sound cues and less anger.  

i, having only seen one of castorf's shows can't judge that but the morning of the premiere i realized that the show wasn't really my thing either.  working with sebastian was fantastic, he's great to work for, i learned a lot from his process, he was very open to my ideas, and i would gladly work on something he does again.  but his aesthetic is wildly different.  i like actor-heavy theatre.  a lot.  there's little i love more than seeing talented, and over-earnest performers exert themselves in every possible physical way to almost manically tell a story.  i like raw energy, physical acting, surprising text delivery.  

in a show so tech-heavy, pressed for time to begin with (we started rehearsing a week late), and then beset with catastrophe, it's understandable that there wasn't enough time to focus on the acting.  and the actors are swimming in so much digital technology that the acting doesn't need to stand for itself.  i guess by german standards i'm old-fashioned.

sebastian had a great sense of imagery and effect, and the more he used the actors to achieve it, the more i liked it.  the more that was given to the tech, the less i was engaged.  and i would be inclined to believe that without the pandemic scare (i was hand-sanitizing like i had OCD—not for pigflu but flu generally) i assume we would have used those last two weeks to hone the running time, redevelop a couple problem scenes, and tidy an internal logic.  it's understandable that it didn't quite succeed.  

regardless of all that, it was the working process that was invaluable.  i learned a lot—both what i want to explore and what's just not my thing.  

now i'm back in berlin, being better than well-fed by johanna's mother and loving life in this wicked city.  we went last night to check out something sebastian had done at the gorki, camus' "l'étrangère".  interesting to see sebastian having worked with a number of similar elements on a very different show.  also the same cultural concerns.  alienation in a globalized world, issues of nationalism and culture clash, what a post-war (wwi) industrialized society is and means—we talked a lot about that.  particularly this theme of displacement.  sebastian seems drawn to "age of anxiety" texts, but very different ones than i am drawn to.  bulgakov, camus, sartre, etc.  i tend to maybe veer a little more into the absurd, though i think we have a similar tendency towards the musical and spectacular that manifests itself in opposite ways.  "létrangère" or "der fremde" as it were auf deutsch, looked like die flucht without the rehearsal issues.  it was clean, it worked with a nice internal logic, some prominent sebastianisms (he has favourite sound effects), and some clean and surprising images.  much tighter.  and being forced to work on a half-sized stage i think was good for him.  

in my mind, directors tend to always do better work when they are forced to work against something, a limitation that makes them adapt their concept of vision, fighting the form they set out.  i saw that in "l'étrangère," where sebastian who thinks operatically was forced to work at that level in what is essentially a chamber theatre.  that is the one redeeming quality of canadian art's destitution—we've always got limitations to fight.  sometimes it even makes people creative.  

speaking of the gorki, i had my interview there today, and everything looks good for me to come and work in berlin sometime in the 2010-11 season.  which is extremely exciting, especially if i could apprentice armin petras there.  he's got crazy ideas and i have no idea where they come from.  i would love to get a glimpse though.

so, i will be bouncing around this continent for the next 10 days or so, perpetually shucked along the rail lines from city to city.  playing two shows in stuttgart, and making a short film in five days in paris.  and then finally home.  it's been a while.  




*famous german director who's been running the volksbühne in berlin for a really long time.  sebastian apprenticed with him.
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ix. the problem with canada. Login to comment

Tuesday, November 10 2009 11:12:42 AM

so, while this last half year of working in germany has been an incredible, overwhelming, and eye-opening experience—i've experienced a theatre culture that is different in just about every way, from audience to acting technique, treatment of text, role of the director, working structures, and even a general concept of what theatre means and how it is valued—i have to say that i miss home.  

that's a given when one moves away: even people fleeing as refugees from totally oppressive and unendurable circumstances miss their homes, and i am on a relatively short working holiday from a really awesome country and city.  it's been great, and i hope to continue working here as well.  but as i come into the final weeks of rehearsal and my return flight edges slowly closer, i'm turning my thoughts towards the coming year, which i will be spending largely in toronto.  

i spent this last weekend in paris with catherine, planning next year for the theatre company and writing a text for one of our productions.  beyond that i'm working on concepts, grant applications, and all manner of other thoughts for how i'm going to be able to simply earn my living while working on all the projects i've got planned.  i've also been keeping in touch with the toronto theatre scene through the local papers (the digital age be praised).  

maybe the distance, and the new experience here has clarified a bit for me what exactly toronto theatre means (to me).  i get asked a lot what theatre at home is like; why i'm here and what sort of theatre we make.  and i have to think of a way to explain it to people who have this vague idea of canada as an unimaginably large place with a lot of snow and trees, and also in a rather limited and newly-learned vocabulary.  now, my take is likely to alienate a large number of theatre makers in toronto / ontario / canada, and that's why i'm more interested in what i'm learning here and so engaged by this culture.  but what i find myself explaining is the following.  

VARIATIONS ON THE THEME OF ARTISTIC POVERTY (in broken german it's a lot shorter):

1.  we have one "state theatre" in the whole country.  that is, one theatre run mostly by state funds.  being the NAC.  here, you work in a state theatre, you're automatically a civil servant.  you get your pay from the government.  the NAC doesn't even have a budget large enough to hire artistic assistants.  theatre in canada relies on private funding, granting (which often accounts for small portions of operating funds, and goes largely to a small group of established theatres), and ticket sales.  which means that theatre in canada exists in a perpetual state of poverty.  

2.  the established theatres, that is, the big institutions in toronto and the two big summer festivals in ontario, are heavily reliant on ticket sales to continue operating.  which means that the audience determines the art.  they get what they think they want.  here, art is determined by the creators, because having the money they have (which isn't heaps and heaps, but enough to give artistic autonomy) they can choose pieces based on being relevant, provocative, and challenging to their audiences.  

3.  new canadian plays.  NEW CANADIAN PLAYS!  how many grants have i sat down to write where i had to make clear the NEW CANADIAN PLAY aspects of a piece i want to direct.  we have about 40 years of theatre history, and we're just so gosh darn proud of ourselves for having done anything that we sit around congratulating ourselves on our ability to string a passage of dialogue together that we grabbed that and are continuing to hammer it to death.  anything else is worthless, if it's not shakespeare, whom we have to admit that even though he wasn't canadian he wasn't bad.  

4.  you won't see many productions of a classic play in canada that isn't shakespeare done in doublets and hose or maybe—and this is wildly experimental—transposed to the 1960s with music composed by an inoffensive canadian pop rock band.  text almost totally uncut.  when we do a classical play, we don't sit down and ask ourselves "what does this story mean to us?" instead we ask the thoroughly asinine question, "how did the playwright want us to do this?"  as if the important question is what a chekhov play meant to a 1903 russian audience if we're trying to do a play in toronto in 2009.  and then when we do this sort of historical digging for answers, we do it through a filter of modern thought that imposes ridiculously backwards notions like psychoanalysis retrospectively onto time periods who had no inkling of that mode of thought.  the greeks didn't think oedipus had an oedipus complex, they thought dike (fate) bent him over and had her way with him.  but more often we dismiss the majority of brilliant classical text for not taking place in canada.  

5.  a very closed and singled-minded point of view from canadian critics.  this is especially obvious to me when i read reviews of stuff i haven't seen.  every time i read a review, the leading actors are criticized in terms of emotional complexity, and not their technical abilities.  an actress could juggle knives while somersaulting through a flaming hoop and reciting rhyming verse at breakneck speed and she'd be called gimmicky and shallow, not impressive.  this ties back to an acting practice based on four times debunked notions of psychoanalysis.  which stanislavsky himself rejected, but he was too late—a pair of stupid americans built the north american method to end all methods on ideas he later recanted.  

6.  inadequate rehearsal time.  the reason i think i'm so rarely surprised by what i see in canadian theatre is that we just don't have the money to afford the rehearsals we need.  here, minimum is six weeks.  after three weeks, an ensemble is usually through the play, and sure, they could put it on, but wouldn't dare.  the next three are used for reconsidering the stage logic, taking things that were obviously expressed and finding something more surprising and inventive, and tying the details of every action to the larger arguments of the piece, such that it functions as a united(ly disjointed, depending on the director) unit of meaning.  

7.  a general poverty and artistic insecurity that creates a lack of daring in the mainstream.  i know many people here with various complaints against the state theatre system, and it's not all ungrounded, but it's hard to argue that it's conservative.  because of our relative theatrical youth, combined with financial pressures, we have created a genre of theatre and continue to foster it, rather than pushing for new expression.  the 1970s in canada were really revolutionary.  we built a theatre culture, and what was being done then was avant-garde for its time.  we're making that theatre still.  those giants of playwrighting and theatre creation are now running the main theatres all over canada, and hire artists who are interested in working in that idiom, which is now completed outdated.  i don't care about epileptic crackwhores in timmins speaking muttered provincial dialect in a theatrical sense.  they have my compassion, but we've seen it onstage.  but we were so quick to canonize the likes of judith thompson and good old george f walker that we stopped having an impulse to look beyond that to boundary-pushing, challenging, and uncomfortable theatrical expression.  if there's innovation, it's made as polite, watered down, and inoffensive as possible.  

8.  political identity affecting allocation of sparse funds.  as a white anglophone male, i'm a BAD demographic when it comes to applying for grants.  handicapped native francophone lesbians have it easy, and sure, they deserve money too.  but the theatrical idea is often second to the racial / sexual / cultural classification of the theatre creator.  i could play the gay card if i wanted, but i don't know what my sexuality has to do with my theatrical ideas, except that sometimes i have a taste for camp and like pink lighting.  besides, who's to say that handicapped native francophone lesbians should be confined to making theatre for handicapped native lesbians?  the problem is, that this psychoanalytical nonsense that's permeated our acting style also has convinced an entire culture of artistic creators and consumers that you can only 'write what you know,' which means create what you are, not what you observe.  besides, this theatrical beggary means we're pitching ideas we can sell the arts councils, which means often that we are producing more of the same, trying to submit to the status quo rather than doing what art should have the freedom to do, which is mount an outright challenge to the values of the society in which it is produced.  

9.  puritanical guilt kills our sense of humour.  as a country founded by the religious radicals who got forced out of england, we started out as a "no cards, drinking, sex, dancing, or theatre" culture (raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens).  we have this horrible guilt we are supposed to feel for not toiling at a good protestant job.  we're looked at as spoiled.  so we have to run around making humourless, heavy theatre and pretend that our jobs and lives are really hard.  and to an extent, the money issue means life is still hard.  the job though, is wicked fun, and i find it stupid to pretend that i don't love what i do, like so many of our theatre artists who have 'made it'.

my boyfriend (an insipid term i hate but significant other and partner are also nauseating and loathsome so i'll opt out of canadian politically correct terminology for the highschool colloquial) is always harping on this argument of doing away with the money system.  not surprisingly, he's also an artist.  i smirk and stare at the floor and vaguely play the pragmatist, but daring to think on it—oh the freedom.  damn us hippy leftist idealist artists and our impractical ideas.  

and then there's the one thing that is the unfortunate truth:  the best theatre is struggling against its own limitations.  some of the stuff i've seen here that clearly has a huge design budget i find uninspiring because the director was financially free to choose the obvious form of expression, instead of working on a shoestring budget where you have no choice but to creatively solve expressive problems.  catch 22.  

that said, there's got to be a happy medium.  accountants and lawyers who are bad at their jobs make better money than most of the talented theatre artists out there (those who can even find work).  sure, we know going into this profession that we're not going to live well, but maybe people would give theatre the respect it deserved if we actually had the money to make the quality worthy of respect.  and then not give artists the i told you so when we complain about personal money problems because a well financed industry would yield theatre that drew a better audience.  no wonder we have a tiny theatre-going population and most shows i go to i see a room full of familiar faces.  it's only those of us with the faith that it could be something better than it is that go.  

this is not to say that all canadian theatre is bad.  i've seen some really wicked stuff in canada and i'm generalizing on trends i've seen.  a more typically canadian article about this would be very careful to note all the exceptions so as not to offend everyone.  i'll leave it that many exceptions exist.  

all this coming from the fact that i'm heading home, and have a number of projects that i'm working on that i can't devote myself entirely to, due to having to fundraise, and work a side job in canada to keep myself fed and financed.  and i'm looking at things like serving tables, teaching english, and other such things.  i love my city, but i'd love it more if i could earn my living with my real qualifications there.  

that's my balls-out rant.  i'm off to rehearsal.  
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eight. dream dramaturgy. Login to comment

Wednesday, November 04 2009 10:52:43 AM

so, apologies for a slight hiatus.  i had the clever idea that i would fix my computer all by my retarded self and ruined everything.  basically backed everything up, erased it, borrowed some startup disks and—the start-up disks failed.  gott sei dank for this cafe i have taken up semi-permanent residence in, because after a week of typing on german keyboards where all the punctuation is hidden and the z and y are backwards, i was lamenting facing a $200 repair fee when some dude here heard me, walked around the corner to his place, and came back with magic computer fairy dust in his hands.  so i'm back in business.  just in time to write another pile of grants and other applications.  

rehearsals are hurtling forward, and the process is rather interesting.  the director seems to switch back and forth between really wildly inventive and extremely naturalistic moods.  i don't know if he's just tired on the naturalistic days or if there's a strategy underlying them.  if i had to guess, i'd say he's trying to bring the actors along on his train of thought.  ie, start with the straight naturalism to figure out the situation so the actors know the relationships, and then introduce elements of the strange and grotesque gradually to change the situation while telling the same story.  i hope that's the plan, because frankly with some of the crazy stuff we have going on, the naturalistic stretches are just dull.  

and as it's a play written in eight dreams, there's a lot of room to theatrically exploit that notion.  dreams and the theatre are no stranger to one another.  there have been dream sequences in plays since the greeks (eumenides opens with apollo, god of dreams, talking to the furies, and it may or may not take place in orestes' head).  shakespeare used them (richard iii), and with the advent of psychoanalysis they started becoming more and more integral to theatrical storytelling.  because the theatre is by definition a place of illusion, it lends itself well to dreamlike forms of expression.  strindberg played heavily with dream dramaturgy in his more mystical phase (a dream play being an obvious example), and symbolism, surrealism, and expressionism in the years from 1890-1930 played with dream elements in different ways.  all through this period playwrights in europe were exploring the vast realm of the subconscious and its theatrical possibilities.  

interesting though, that bulgakov uses this dream structure rather differently.  compared to symbolists, expressionists, and surrealists, bulgakov's play is rather tame.  one can do a totally naturalistic reading of his text, and by and large, it works.  bulgakov's sense of the grotesque and carnivalesque is much subtler than artists who either self-identified with or were later classified into the aforementioned movements.  it's only once in a while that a seemingly naturalistic text lapses into something beyond reason.  after four rather straight-forward scenes of the bourgeois white sympathizers being pushed out of russia in 1920, the play jumps a year later to constantinople in a totally different time and mood.  charnota, one of the main figures in the play, is off gambling, again.  but instead of at the horse races, he's at this messed up carnival of cockroach races.  the dialogue remains logical and natural, but the situation is just not quite right.  

we've had seeds so far of heading towards this direction of a quasi-naturalistic use of text juxtaposed against a mood or situation that's not quite right.  the production will ultimately have constant video and music playing throughout to help create this disjunction of mood and temperature.  hopefully we push further that way.  something i've mentioned to the director that might help get the dream situation clearer (because in bulgakov's text most of the dream is suggested by the stage directions, which we've done away with, and therefore need to create through the staging) are the recurring rhythm of dreams—like they get stuck on a loop or something.  the funny thing about dreaming is your dreaming mind never learns to know better.  even if you're aware that you're dreaming, you still manage to be frightened each time by recurring nightmares.  the same shapes can appear in different dreams over time, weird figures that haunt a mind that has no reflex to recognize and reason them away.  and bulgakov's text is clever, certain situations recur with slight variations, and the thematic imagery is strong:  cockroaches, gambling, winning and losing, exodus—these things get taken and transformed but persist through all eight dreams.  

it's hard because i feel like i've grabbed on to the logic of the piece as sebastian is trying to construct it, and would love to get up and start directing myself.  it's been months since i directed anything, almost a year, and i'm getting an itch again.  in a serious way.  but i am here to watch and make coffee with occasional observations thereto.  it's certainly hard sitting still.  i like this line of work normally because it means i can squirm and jump around and make strange noises, but there are other people on this production whose job that is.  sebastian's way of directing is rather different from how i prefer to work.  he's much more discursive—the actors try something and then we talk about it.  i would keep them on their feet trying and trying physically instead of sitting them down.  but i'm a bit more high strung / wound up.  

the other point i'm having trouble with is how much stuff we're accumulating as props and costumes.  i'm not minimalist, and i like a lot of crap onstage, but i prefer that it's used in strange ways.  example: we start with five trunks onstage.  then we acquire beds, tables, and all sort of other furniture.  i'd be more impressed if the trunks became the beds, tables, etc.  but that may just be a sign that i'm not quite understanding the stage logic as yet—maybe this weird procession of more and more stuff is the point.  but then with dream dramaturgy and the sense of the recurring, i think minimalism might be useful—certain objects that just won't go away, popping up all over russia and turkey and paris, following these people around, haunting their consciousness.

the tough thing is having these ideas and things i want to try, but then facing the obstacle first of it not really being my place to say them all the time, and second that expressing them in my third language is a bit tricky.  day to day talk is one thing, but getting all theoretical is a little harder.  the longer the sentence, the easier it is to mash up the grammar.  i look forward to working in my native language and my own shows again.  

(judith)

being in rehearsals all day i have a lot less time to go and see the theatre happening here, but i did make it to see something on saturday.  actually i was seeing it for the second time, having been so overwhelmed and blown away by the first seeing of this production.  judith is a co-production between the schauspielhaus and staatsoper here, in conjunction with the salzburg theatre.  the opera component is actually an oratorio by vivaldi, who may not be known for being the most surprisingly inventive of baroque composers, but as an ex-violin player i have a huge soft spot for him.  there's an almost mathematical simplicity to his work, elegant in the same ways calculus can be.  the text was half taken from the book of judith (excluded from jewish and protestant versions of the bible/torah, but retained in roman catholic and eastern orthodoxy), and partly adapted out of friedrich hebbel's 19th-century tragedy of the same name.  a large chunk of it was also written by one of the actresses.  

the production is a triumph of dramaturgy.  these different texts are woven together to tell the story through elements of theatre and music, abruptly alternating between highly classical and sharply modern.  the story of judith takes place in the reign of nebuchadnezzar, when the assyrians were attempting to conquer judea.  actually, they did, eventually, but in the story a beautiful widow named judith goes and seduces the general holofernes, gets him drunk, cuts off his head, and thereby saves judea.  

the story is widely depicted in visual art, theatre, and music, and the performance referenced aspects of this poly-representative history.  there were four opera singers, who did some magnificent rhythmic text work with the book of judith, five holofernes, a countertenor in a giant baroque skirt, and three judiths.  the three judiths were interesting in that despite there being so many representations of her, none of them actually stood for a 'real' judith—each of them were just a different means of representation.  the was an opera singer, singing the religious oratorio, in baroque costume straight out of one of the paintings, a judith out of hebbels' tragedy in bourgeois 19th-century costume, and a modern-day judith, played by a wicked little actress from salzburg who wrote her own text.  she was easily the most interesting—as a parallel to the judea-saving judith, this girl too was desperate to save her 'world', with a breathless long monologue about bottled water and mcdonalds.  at one point the holofernes got together and the opera singer holofernes was combatting the monologue by trying to start an aria—these different modern and classical, theatrical and operatic elements battling each other.  

the head-cutting came as no surprise.  actually the play started with four pink wax holofernes heads onstage, and the holofernes' came and destroyed them with a sledge hammer.  when we first met all the judiths, they were manufacturing more of the heads onstage, pouring this pink stuff from bucket to bucket, mixing it and pouring it into molds.  the plan to save the world was there for the beginning.  but to do so, they knew they had to sell out.  that is, seduce holofernes.  and that scene was brilliant.  everyone onstage, bottled water splashing everywhere, the countertenor running around trilling, some of the holofernes' raping the plastic heads, the opera singers, each other, and of course the judiths, the whole stage a chaotic mess and out of nowhere a bunch of out of tune saxophone while operajudith crooned a lounge ballad.  and when the time came for the head chopping, it was with the counterpart to modernjudith, one of the holofernes' with some of the most crazy physical acting work i've scene.  the chopping was done as a series of tableaus, and at the end after he was definitely dead, came one more tableau with the other two judiths gone, and they got up and wandered off totally nonchalant—story told, let's go home.  

what made it so successful was that as a text collage it emphasized the differences in styles and modes, and they often interacted with one another, instead of being separated.  it was an opera with a sense of humour, and a wide range of perspective expressed in it.  each other the judiths expressed an totally different point of view on the action, which rarely were in concord with one another.  and they found the interesting point in the story as this naive hope to change the world, and the hard lessons of sacrifice that come with the good intentions.  after modernjudith wandered off with the holofernes that they killed as casual boyfriend and girlfriend ("oh wait i forgot my jacket" was her last line), the bouregoistragedyjudith was left on stage saying something in high verse about not wanting to bear holofernes a child.  and then blackout.  

(a footnote)

in other news, i wrote the gorki theatre few weeks back, it being my favourite theatre here in germany and also having the added advantage of being in berlin, asking after international work opportunities.  i've got an interview in december when i'm back in berlin, so we'll see how it all goes.  it would be unbelievable to work in berlin at this crazy theatre.  the job would likely not be happening until next season, and i haven't a clue how long it would last or if it would conflict with existing commitments i've made, but if it magically worked out there's no way i could say no.  
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number seven. woyzeck in karlsruhe. Login to comment

Sunday, October 18 2009 10:32:02 AM

saw a production of woyzeck in karlsruhe last night—having the weekend off and nothing to do i thought i would go and visit a friend i worked with in bad hersfeld over the summer, but it turned out she was in berlin.  however, woyzeck was playing there, and it's a piece i've been working on since christmas basically, researching, translating, casting in august, and mounting it next spring.  it's hardly ever performed in canada (though there will be a french version from montreal at the NAC in january), but it's one of the most important texts in german speaking theatre.  i saw a wicked production at the gorki theater in june and there's a wiederaufnahme of a production from last year here in a few weeks.  

robert wilson and tom waits collaborated some years ago on a version of the fragmentary texts with waits' music.  the music is actually pretty rad and is out on a cd called blood money.  wilson directed the premiere but it's now being performed all over the place, and doesn't tend to garner great reviews when wilson doesn't direct it.  

yesterday's production was totally boring.  the thing about the play that i love so much is that there is this central plot of a guy who finds out his girlfriend is cheating on him and kills her.  pretty typical, simple jealousy murder.  but büchner manages to expand it into the basic problem of being human.  it's not dissimilar to hamlet in some of the ideas discussed—right down to the 'what a piece of work is man [...] and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust' speech getting mirrored in a crazy little speech from a deranged barber 'what is the mensch?  bones!  dust, sand, dirt.  what is nature?  dust, sand, dirt.  but stupid mensch, stupid mensch.'  there are these crazy little scenes that pop out of nowhere with often totally unconnected characters that seem like totally simple peasants who philosophize in this beautiful imagery about what mankind (menschheit) is.  there's a certain disorder to it—well obviously, büchner died before he finished it.  

yesterday's production had a beautiful set—a big wheel that i dream of having enough money to build, because it references both the circus aspects and woyzeck's side job as a lab rat.  but all the crazy little bits of text were cut, the plot was organized and streamlined, and it was made even cruder and grotesque without any transcendent sort of ideas.  it was only the typical, and i knew within two scenes how it was going to end.  unfortunately, it took over an hour to get there.  

along the way came some nice pictures, and the set was used well, but certain aspects were totally ignored.  the fact that woyzeck is a borderline schizotypal personality hearing voices from the ground and developing a whacked-out conspiracy theory like something out of a dan brown novel was totally glossed over—making the personal struggle only about a kind of bourgeois jealousy and not about woyzeck's existential struggle to understand a world that suddenly became totally foreign to him.  

and the play opened with the captain scene—repeatedly in the play you see a man who you know is struggling to keep control over his mind handling rather sharp objects, and who is even described as running around like an open razor blade.  there's a beautiful scene where woyzeck is shaving the captain, which normally comes after you know he's a bit off-kilter and the captain is berating him over his immorality.  the whole scene can be totally suspenseful and beautifully dangerous, especially because woyzeck is clearly rushing through the shaving, but instead the captain came out in a naked fatsuit wearing only underwear, commanded no respect or importance, and woyzeck was instead forced to give him a handjob.  totally gratuitous.  it was basically a carnival of penis jokes.  

marie, woyzeck's girl, who is supposed to be this totally incomprehensible abyss, was played as nothing but a stereotypical tramp, with no element of mystery to her.  there's a scene that's totally wicked because she's standing with the drum major and about to sleep with him when she abruptly changes her mind and dares him to come a step nearer.  in this one she said the line and then they screwed anyhow.  the whole production played to the obvious and didn't even attempt to surprise.  i'm all for the use of the grotesque, the carnival, and all that, but it has to be overlying something more serious.  all the serious problems of the play were ignored for some hammy acting and tom waits music, which at least was well-played and sometimes even well-sung.  

i realize i'm not the ideal audience for anything but a brilliant production of the play, because i know it so well.  i can't guarantee that my production will be brilliant either, but i hope it will be a little bit better thought out and more entertaining than the one i just witnessed.  

i also caught a production of salome here in stuttgart, which is a really lovely play but is hard to find a good reason to do.  i didn't really think this production found one either.  actually, wilde's really lovely with language but the whole art-for-art's-sake thing i disagree with on principle.  this one had some lovely costumes and a really great set idea—the whole floor was black drywall sheets that crumbled underfoot,  but they would have been better used in danton's death than salome.  the earth being a thin crust and all that.  there was some play with all the gay subtext (big surprise with wilde), and some hint that there is an impulse to destroy unfulfilled desire, but overall it was a purely aesthetic romp through a pretty pretty pile of words.  maybe there's no good reason to do the play other than it's pretty.  maybe i'll think that's ok one day.  
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number six. first rehearsals. Login to comment

Thursday, October 15 2009 04:59:56 PM

word y'all—

rehearsals for die flucht have begun, at last.  which is, needless to say, a relief, because without work to keep one busy stuttgart is like a german version of most of the suburban centres that fill southwestern ontario—rather conservative, and offering little by way of 'nightlife' as it were.  i've mentioned before how incredulous i am that such an interesting and vibrant theatre is not only extremely well-funded (actually it's because it's in such a well-to-do city that it is so well-funded—the funding a state theatre receives seems to be proportionate to the tax revenue of the city or province it is in), but well-attended also.  but that's another matter and i think i've hashed it out as best i can given my limited understanding of all things economic.  including the bits i've read of the globe and mail announcing a skyrocketing loonie and a suddenly prosperous canadian housing market.  i read these things but really fail to understand how they work.  i thought actually that learning economics might be like learning a language, and so i tried to force myself to read some piece of financial news every day, but i learned german faster and gave up on the economy.  

so what i can say so far about the rehearsals:

sebastian baumgarten, the director, is quite intense, rather friendly, speaks in a mumbly thick berlinerish accent, does not come from an acting background (he trained as an opera director first actually), but is incredibly good with the actors.  i have trouble understanding his dialect sometimes because he doesn't gesticulate and isn't very facially expressive.  in the concept rehearsal he followed his own train of thought for about 90 minutes without stopping.  i caught some of what he was saying, but i'm still at a point with my german where i'm heavily reliant on clear articulation and body language.  actually i saw a few of my own mannerisms when i get rather intense trying to explain something and talk really fast, straight, direct, climb on my chair, and wander around.  some of the other assistants also mentioned they weren't understanding things in there too so i feel less badly.  the main thing i got was when he slowed down to announce there were two really important things about the play, and then sped up and wandered away leaving me a bit in the dark about exactly what they are.  

the rehearsal conditions here are pretty ideal though.  the rehearsal hall is the same size as the stage, and we have a rehearsal set installed in it, lighting system, sound system, rehearsal costumes and props, and all the staff or their assistants at the very least attend all the rehearsals.  this means communication is on the spot and first hand.  the composer attends all the rehearsals and is playing with the score the entire time.  same goes for the video artist.  

after the concept rehearsal we spent two days having one-on-one meetings with the actors where they had an hour and a half to talk with the director about their figures (germans say figure, not characters, and i like the idea better—less about psychology and more about shapes moving through time and space).  then we did a movie night last night with some vaguely related visual material.  (watching russian with german subtitles is a bit tough).  today we started on the first scene.  

baumgarten is quite improv heavy in his rehearsals—the actors had to memorize their lines rather vaguely, and all day we were trying to find a way through three pages of relatively simple and naturalistic text.  well the play's not quite naturalistic, it's structured in 8 dreams, but it's not nearly so absurd as some of bulgakov's more fantastic and sci-fi oriented novels and short stories.  it follows a strange dream logic and dances on the edge of the grotesque in my understanding, but in an uncharacteristically subtle way, given what i know of bulgakov.  it plays with a view of reality that slowly warps, rather than overtly viewing the world through an absurdist kaleidoscopic lens.  

actually personally i would never choose the play.  maybe i lack the subtlety.  but i find that really interesting.  hanna never chooses plays that i would, but that doesn't mean i'm not engaged or interested in the vision either, and excited to work on them.  the text just doesn't jostle my imagination the way some of his other works do.  but it clearly works on baumgarten's.  what is written as a fairly normal scene of refugees hiding in a monastery now involves tubes of pilsbury pizza dough and the refugees forming a chorus to play only half of the figure they are hiding from.  and now he has created the looping cycle where the dialogue repeats three times and a pregnant woman who is actually a man jumps out of a piece of luggage and invisible cockroaches are climbing everywhere.  i'm not sure where it's going, because the director is really non-committal about everything we've done so far.  it's like the story is this thing in the middle of the room and he's getting the actors to run at it from every direction, try everything they can to break it open, but until that key is found, we'll use more refrigerated pastry preparations (which are a bitch to clean up—and that's my job!).  

at any rate, this is a totally different directing approach than i have seen before in rehearsals, and i'm really interested to see what the results look like.  i'm told baumgarten is heavily-castorf influenced, who's a pretty important guy in the berlin scene.  he's artistic director of the volksbühne in berlin, and has been for ages.  i've only seen one show of his, and it was five hours long and before i spoke german, so i can't pass much judgment. it was also three years ago.  

anyway, my new apartment is on the opposite side of the city centre and it's now late and cold, and i actually have something to wake up for now, so i'm going to get on my pink bicycle and ride through the rat-filled streets.  for such a clean city, there are crazy amounts of rodents about.  rats and mice all over (you actually hear them squeaking at night).  i also saw some giant rodent thing in the downtown pedestrian area yesterday.  a weasel or a badger or something.  it was large, long, and looking terrified of the oncoming street-cleaner.  actually, i kind of miss raccoons, although i think their intelligence is a bit alarming.  
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number five. in unison. 1 Comment

Wednesday, October 07 2009 08:06:38 AM

oer the last week or so i've been coming up against the notion of chorus in a number of ways.  i've been writing about greek theatre history for a friend, seen some plays where chorus was added or subtracted, and even the approaching mauerfall anniversary speaks to the collective actions and statements of a mass of people.  

(i) mauerfall.

so i'm writing from berlin now.  i was recommended a german hitchhiking website by a friend and had my first experiment with it on sunday, after a weekend trip to strasbourg to meet up with my little brother.  

what with rehearsals not beginning until monday i guess i felt like i had exhausted the possibilities of self-amusement in stuttgart.  being back in berlin it's like the whole city is on sale.  the economic differences in this country are astounding.  the richest parts of the west are basically double the cost of living.  not being totally educated about economics, i can't comment on that with a great deal of scientific insight.  but i can tell you that a falafel here is 2 euro, and in stuttgart it's up to 4 euro.  

the degree to which i can comment on it is only the degree to which i have experienced it as a consumer, as well as my vague understanding of what i've been told by my friends here.  they work mostly in theatre, but some of them understand economics better than me.  

so back when there were two germanies, the eastern half kept most of its economy and industry within its borders, while the west followed most of the western world in participating in the rapidly globalizing economy.  manufacturing and production for the DDR was done in the DDR, while the western half was making like all the rest of us western economic powerhouses and getting developing nations to do the dirty work of sewing clothes in substandard labour environments.  cities like dresden and leipzig were big manufacturing and industrial centres, as well as having vibrant arts scenes.  

then the wall came down (it'll be 20 years november 9), and the DDR wasn't really prepared in terms of having an economic policy to negotiate with.  actually i'm pretty sure the government was basically disintergrating with the border.  johanna describes the half year or so that followed as anarchy, and i believe it.  an entire reality changed for the city of berlin in particular.  but during this period of anarchy, the eventual re-unification was anything but inevitable.  there were options then.  the people of the DDR, though thoroughly dissatisfied with a corrupt government and some of the restrictions put on their day-to-day lives, could have gotten it together to posit another political structure—the germanies could have remained divided, perhaps, with two governments but an open border.  

because the mauerfall was basically a spontaneous event—a little underground organizing on each side, probably more on the east—a large (gigantic) demonstration in alexanderplatz 5 days earlier at which many prominent writers / artists / public figures spoke somewhat precipitated it—it was ultimately the politics of flying by the seat of one's pants.  as the border opened, travel across the country was wild in those first months.  hanna remembers a guy standing at the old border line just jumping from the west to the east and back again in total disbelief.  but it was a miraculously peaceful movement from the people, and the political organization were unprepared.  

because the west was capitalist and the east was not, there was a lot more money kicking around there, and somehow (this is where my unerstanding gets vague), the west started buying up the properties and industries in the east.  right down to the company that made east german mustard.  they changed the recipe but branded it the same, but nobody was fooled.  i've been told the mustard story by more than one person.  it must have really chagrined the whole nation.  properties in east berlin were being bought up by the rich westerners, and industries were being taken over.  (stuttgart is maybe the most hated city in berlin, because stuttgart is one of the richest cities here).  the industry was moved largely to more economically viable (read exploitable) parts of the world.  

and basically, the east, not really accustomed to such economic policies, got the short end of the stick.  leipzig apparently has over 20% unemployment, and about 10% of the buildings there are abandoned (buffalo, anyone?).  there is still a fair bit of resentment.  the western ideology is such that they seem to feel as though those silly socialist finally realized they were wrong, and re-unification is that time they bought the east.  conversely, the easterners feel like they got annexed without having any political mechanism to choose their own fate, they maintain that the government was corrupt, yes, but not that the entire culture was flawed, and more than anything, they want their mustard back.  

so i think that's got a little bit to do with the ridiculous price of stuttgart falafel.  

(ii)  greeks and goat songs.  

so this long thing i've been writing about greek tragedy ended up being fairly interesting for me to get back into.  i've never directed a greek play and only acted in one in theatre school just like everyone has to at some point.  well, there was also the ill-fated production of antigone i was in for about a week with catherine back in second or third year or something but when we were asked to cite some idiotic stella adler rip-off notion of emotional memory to launch ourselves into a choral ode about the seven against thebes we booked it out of there pretty fast.  the director was this long-haired dude who dressed all in black who picked up a british accent after doing a summer course at rada and basically epitomized everything i hate about the horrible north american misunderstanding of stanislavsky.  the production never went on.  

but i'm just rambling.  

the interesting point for me about going back to greek theatre has been observing that in a number of ways the appeal of theatre is essentially the same for me now as it was then.  and it's got to do with the idea of chorus.  tolerate, if you will, the nauseating stereotypicality of quoting nietzsche.  (actualy he's got a bad rap, he wrote some pretty rad stuff, it's just that i feel like a bit of a joke sitting in german parks reading nietzsche).  

singing and dancing, man expresses himself as a member of a higher community: he has forgotten how to walk and talk and is on the verge of flying up into the air as he dances. the enchantment speaks out in his gestures. [...] something supernatural also echoes out of him: he feels himself a god; he himself now moves  in as lofty and ecstatic a way as he saw the gods move in his dream. 

that's the birth of tragedy, right at the beginning, where nietzsche's still making sense.  that's half of the importance of chorus for me, and theatre too, is this sense of community that happens with it.  live performance is unstable, it's never the same night to night.  concerts and performances are the sort of event where you can say—dude, were you there the night the set fell down started a fire and they managed to finish the show anyhow?  that was hectic!—or more often something somewhat less dramatic.  there's something shared between audience members and actors and technicians and even the bartenders and ushers who are together in the room on the same night.  

or even if it goes well, totally according to plan, an actor or a piece of theatre, when it really hits an audience, hits in three ways—mentally, emotionally, and physically.  the third is the trickiest, but it's where nietzsche is headed in my opinion, this enchantment, this spirituality (can be totally secular) that comes out of being captivated and moved by a play such that your mind, heart, and body are all involved and reacting to the piece.  

the other thing that greek theatre did with this chorus idea, was that they managed to make plays super political just by virtue of having a sense of community, or citizenry, actually represented onstage.  it gives a sense of the impact of the political actions of the figures onstage (usually kings and princes and generals) on their people, who react en masse.  sometimes the community is right, sometimes you get a chance to see a whole community acting foolishly and only one person with the courage to stand up for what they think is right—but it gives greek theatre a powerful tool to convey the effects of the political actions on a people.  and as greek tragedy evolved it became something more and more politically subversive.  euripides manipulated the form with great skill to subvert, undermine, interrogate, and challenge athenian civic and cultural values.  i mean, that he lived alone in a cave in the middle of the sea is a fairly good indicator that civic and cultural life in athens wasn't his cup of tea, but the plays are pretty clever about articulating why.  

(iii)  wut!

before i left stuttgart i had a chance to see another 'wiederaufnahme' production, directed again by volker lösch.  this too, was a film made into a play.  but my reaction was very different from my reaction to stalker.  wut! is a 2006 film (wut means rage in english) about the racial relations between a bouregois german family and a turkish kid who their son is hanging out with.  the turkish kid is beating the kid up, selling him drugs, stealing from him, but somehow they're still friends.  partly it's felix's desire to belong, partly highschool's just hard and confusing, and partly felix is rebelling against the middle class upbringing.  

the race-relations in germany are rather fascinating to me because canada is by no means perfect and racial relations are a bit of a problem there but overall i think we manage to all live together in the same cities with a remarkable degree of peace.  not-so here.  perhaps canada has so many races represented that the lines are tougher to draw in the sand.  germany doesn't have that kind of racial diversity.  it's germans and the turkish community that was brought here in throngs forty years ago due to a labour shortage.  berlin actually has the second largest turkish population in the world after istanbul.  in berlin there is a great deal more peace and respect between the cultures, but in the smaller cities i have seen open and bald-faced racism in my time here.  

the problem is a lack of integration, that the turks were taught to work but not to live as germans, nor did they want to give up their cultures.  they live in their own communities, speak their own languages, shop in their own shops.  some don't even speak german at all.  now there is a second generation, and even a beginning of a third generation of these turkish communities, and the new generations have a total sense of displacement.  they are neither german nor turkish, bits of both cultures coming through.  there's even the seeds a language developing that is a fusion of the two languages.  

lösch seems to really like the effects of chorus work, and also a certain authenticity onstage.  (remember all the verbatim text in nachtasyl).  instead of just retelling the movie, lösch hired a chorus of street kids and disadvantaged youth, 14 in all, to play the turkish kid.  they were clearly not actors.  vocally they were rough, straining their voices, and the chorus work was hard to synchronize, so every new statement and sentence was prompted by one member of the chorus saying "und—" to set the rhythm.  

but it worked.  they were not all turkish.  some were german, some black, some middle eastern, some south asian.  nothing shocking in canada, but in the very white theatre scene here it was incredibly bold, and i imagine shocked for the bourgeois audience in stuttgart.  actually the audience when i saw it included a school group or two, which was really interesting to hear their reactions to the piece.  

the play itself was highly physical, simple, and effective.  staged mostly in the audience and at the edge of the stage, it was immediate, the struggle happening in and among the "community" of audience members.  it addressed the feeling of un-belonging within the society, and dealt really effectively with the middle-class prevailing conservatism here in germany, which is still fairly anti-immigrant.  

the end of the play was kind of a cop-out.  the play made a really strong statement about all the issues at hand, and had a great ending scene, until the stage opened up to reveal a perfect little glowing pink domestic setting with a turkish housekeeper that was obviously extremely expensive.  the chorus came smashing through the walls of the set with axes, and the father character shot them all in a total bloodbath.  i love irony, bloodshed, and especially bright pink sets, but in this case, after the story was so simply and effectively told, they beat the point to death and ruined a really nice unsettling conclusion.  i'm not one to talk about unnecessary endings—i love endings and usually end up with way too many of them (johanna counted 7 in one show), but when i'm less attached to a piece i can see where there are way too many.  johanna is damn good with endings.  tight, quick, and effective.  one day i'll learn.  

(iv)  antigone.  

last night here in berlin i checked out a production of antigone at the maxim gorki theater.  a crazy german poet named hölderlin translated a bunch of the greeks really beautifully in the early 1800s, so unlike in english, there is a fairly standard text for many of the tragedies.  in my understanding, this is a quintessential hölderlin translation.  dude isn't so well known in english but some of you may have come across "hyperion's song of destiny," a really crazy wicked poem of his.  

i should add here that i've never seen a production of antigone that i liked.  aside from the farce i mentioned before, i also saw something at the walmer centre theatre in 2008 that i walked out of after the opening monologue was this pedantic, narcissistic, condescending monologue that explained to us that antigone was about 9-11 and this production was going to show us that.  there was something irksomely canadian in the so-called candour and honesty and inoffensiveness of the speech—assuming we couldn't make the connection on our own is bad enough, but telling us that we as a community need to experience political theatre with this totally benign safety net under it—political theatre is powerful, can make bold statements, but when you sugar-coat it and spoonfeed me meaning i won't sit through your little autoerotic lecture, and would like my money back.  

that said, the play is brilliant.  sophokles was a probably the most balanced arguer of the greek playwrights, so the conflict in it is really tough to take sides on.  you jump back and forth between kreon and antigone's arguments, duty to state and duty to self being irreconcilable and equally important.  anouilh picked up on that, and wrote an antigone in 1944 where antigone is supposed to draw parallels with the résistance and kreon is a representative of totalitarianism.  the nazi censors actually let it play because the arguments were so balanced.  

but it's a really tough play to do right.  it wasn't done right last night.  

interestingly, the chorus was written out of the play.  and this is one of the most interesting chori/choruses (?) in greek theatre, delivering some pretty crazy interesting reflections on humanity, community, war, and responsibility.  the text was kept but redistributed among the characters onstage, and ismene actually got the exodus (final ode)—nice because she's a terrible part to play.  show up at the beginning, look like a spineless twit, and then disappear.  the text that would normally be delivered to the chorus was delivered to the audience, a really effective way to show all the actions as being in the public eye and having political repercussions.  

kreon was incredible—it's really his play in the end.  antigone wanders off to die halfway through and then you see a new king taking an unstable throne after a destructive war, having tried to make a decision that is really in his country's best interests, his family all go and off themselves.  first his niece antigone hangs herself in the cave.  then his son (engaged to her) stabs himself.  then eurydike (another crappy role, wander around saying nothing until a speech at the end that lasts about five minutes and walk off and hang yourself).  in the end this kreon gets all the bodies onstage with him, sits them up, and the last image was him sitting between his dead wife and son, the rest of his life and reign ahead of him, and him sitting with his arms around his dead family staring into space.  
the big problem was that this director decided to write polynikes' corpse into the play.  he's the dude antigone shouldn't be burying but does.  what's really effective in the play is that no one is really sure what happens after death, it's a mysterious line that can't be crossed.  there's no deus ex machina, no ghosts, just the human reality surrounded by all this incomprehensible death.  antigone's choice is a personal one.  but when you get some random reanimated corpse nagging at her, the strength of her decision is taken away from her.  she's acting out of a fear outside herself, not making a decision she personally decides is the just course.  

on top of that, the director was pretty obviously gay.  not a problem as long as it doesn't make for silly decisions onstage.  but polynikes was a very pretty guy without a shirt.  i didn't mind the eye candy because he was a good actor.  the stupid part came later, when, after being buried, he got up, and pulled a bunch of corpses out of the piles of clothes who were equally half-naked, and equally pretty.  then they all went and just stood upstage, with little else to do with the action.  just a lot of very attractive men standing upstage.  and there wasn't even any symbolism.  had there been eight of them i would have understood it—the seven against thebes plus the dead eteokles—but the numbers didn't match up there.  ok, maybe they were just the dead youth, reminders of what war does, but they looked pretty alive to me, and didn't indicate the horrors of war as much as remind me of underwear models.  

nothing onstage that isn't important to the play.  it's amazing that some professional directors here can't manage to stick to that.  had the six packs upstage interacted with the action or something instead of just posing, fine, i would disagree with the concept, but at least i could see how that particular director's vision involved it, but they were just eye candy.  very nice eye candy, but i've seen pieces of furniture used more effectively onstage.  

sometimes the amount of money available in this theatre system actually leads to cop-outs.  the pink living room in wut, and the abercrombie boys—most theatres in canada couldn't pay for those things, and so directors would have to solve the problems more creatively.  sometimes here money gets thrown at lazy dramaturgy, instead of directors having to really flex creative muscles to find theatrical expressions for unstageable images.  ah well, in canada we can't pay for a rehearsal process long enough to do more than learn lines and add some blocking most of the time.  nowhere is perfect.  
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rehearsals have not yet started here for my production and i'm left with a lot of time to kill until i can get to work.  

 
i've been seeing some more of the theatre running at the theatre, two productions that are continuing from last year.  the german state theatres run repertory in a totally different way than in canada, so productions can run for years and years so long as the intendant (basically artistic director) still thinks they are important and they keep selling tickets.  for instance, the deutsches theater production of emilia galotti (directed by michael thalheimer) that came for a short stint in stratford last fall was actually directed and rehearsed in 2001, and was still running at the deutsches theater back in june when i was here.  the theatres here are bigger, have more money and more storage space, as well as enough personnel to facilitate the stage changes night to night.  theatres will often have as many as 20 or 30 productions in their repertory.  

as all the state theatres here take a two month break for the summer (basically early july to early september), here in stuttgart they are basically spending the next month getting all their 'wiederaufnahme" (taken-on-again) productions back up and running.  with two months off, it means the directors have to come back for a day, rehearse the show one day, and then it's back in the pot.  here it looks like the process will happen slowly over the next two months (lösch's hamlet, which johanna said was pretty mindblowing, will not be running until november).  
it is pretty f--ked when you think that most of these actors have about ten shows in their heads at a time.  and the stagings are generally a little more out there (i'm being tactful there—they are about ten times as challenging to perform than most canadian theatre), so these actors aren't just expected to do the obvious and illustrate a text, but they have to remember a whole bunch of shifting attitudes and arguments that tend to work counter to the text.  good thing the pay is better here.  

so what i've seen from the wiederaufnahme repertoire:  

STALKER.  directed by hasko weber, who is the intendant here.  it's based on the tarkovsky film of the same name.  i have to say i don't know much about tarkovsky, but from what jörg's wife told me, he was pretty nuts.  he didn't make a ton of films, but all of them were fairly densely philosophical and stalker was the most intense of them.  it's loosely based on a novel called "roadside picnic" by the strugatsky brothers.  really loosely.  in fact all it has in common with the film is the word stalker and this idea of a room.  it took five years for tarkovsky and the strugatskys to adapt the novel, and then three years to film everything (the material used for the film was from the third filming session, after one location got lost halfway through filming and the second set of footage was damaged).  tarkovsky was also extremely interested in aristotelian unity of action, time, and place.  

this room is maybe the site of a meteor strike or an alien landing, and is basically unreachable without the guide, or stalker.  it has the capability to grant the visitor's greatest wish.  which results, obviously, in a hell of a philosophical / moral / ethical dilemma.  without going too far in terms of plot details (they basically want to go to the room, get to the room, then leave the room), i found myself wondering more than anything what the value is in translating a film to stage.  especially when said film was already adapted from a book.  the production was unsatisfying, maybe because it lacked humour and action to me, but also because i felt the entire time that it would make a better movie (this is before i knew that it was one).  it's hard to create an impression of desperation and claustrophobia when you use a vast and largely empty stage.  the text wasn't the screenplay, it was collaged together with heiner müller and biblical text, among other things, all around the subject of wish-fulfillment and the dream world, but it still didn't grab me.  also, to be fair, my german is not yet good enough to grasp a really serious philosophical debate.  

but this "leave it on film" thing is the biggest thing i took away from it.  jörg's wife said she enjoyed the production but that the film was very close to her heart and couldn't really be topped.  actually she said her connection to it borders on something religious.  it must be a good film.  tarkovsky himself was also an opera director, as i have since learned.  so ostensibly the possibility always existed for it to be something theatrical and not cinematic.  this is a really important problem for me, what with us all living in an age of digitalized media that is fairly universally accessible, and me having chosen theatre of all the possible media of expression available.  it's not possible to mass-distribute, isn't very current as a means of communication, and generally its popularity is waning among our generation.  so basically i'm painting in a cave.  which begs that awful question—why bother?  

well, obviously i'm drawn to a lot of things about it—the shared experience of being in the same room as the artists as it the art is created, the ability to create and destroy illusions, theatre's ability to be self-reflexive and communicate directly, the fact that it is spontaneous and uncertain, and that no two performances are ever quite the same, and an intrinsically spiritual or mystical connection that joins everyone in the room when it's at its best.  but i am absolutely adamant, especially in an age where theatre isn't exactly viewed as something relevant, that theatre needs to be THEATRE.   in that a piece of theatre must express something that can't be expressed through another medium, and that the theatre-creator must be exploiting that medium to the limits of its communicative potential.  i guess in germany the issue is less pressing, because theatre is more alive and valued here as culture, but in canada, where every show mounted (that isn't some insipid sh-t like dirty dancing or we will rock you) has to fight for its very survival, it's extremely important to me that theatre need to be theatre, and only in that way can we affirm its value.  

the second show, TRILOGIE DES WIEDERSEHENS, was directed by someone i know nothing about, a woman named frederike heller.  the text was botho strauß' breakout success, written in 1977.  strauß has worked with the likes of peter stein at the famous schaubühne in west berlin (the only one of the five berlin state theatres in the western half).  

i'll admit straight up, a good chunk of the text was lost on me.  i can order beer and look for apartments and do my day-to-day living and conversing in german, but as the best writing often relies on clever word-play, it can sometimes be lost on me, and that german directors tend to work against the obvious in the text, it's easy to get mixed up.  i also have a lot of difficulty operating washing machines in german.  but household appliances give me trouble in my native tongue too.  

the play, as far as i understood, as about an artist preparing an exhibit of paintings in a provincial west german town, in his newly developed style of "capitalist realism" (remember gorki's socialist realism and the soviet art program—).  there are fourteen characters onstage, to varying degrees engaged in the arts community, either as creators (actors, painters, etc) or consumers.  the exhibit is clearly something controversial, and the community ends up in a bit of an uproar.  further details went over my head.  

however, this was definitely THEATRE.  the artist was also somehow the director of the show, for at least the first two parts of the trilogy announcing the scene titles (rather, picture titles) and orchestrating the set.  in this staging, the community themselves became the works of art, polaroids capturing the bourgeois society at their ugliest.  the polaroids littered the stage, crowding the actors in their space.  each picture was introduced to the audience and for as long as the game was within the artist's control, the scenes ended with the pictures that came out of them being revealed.  

what really got me about the production was the beautiful arc of it—it set up a dramaturgical form that ended up being compromised by the stories development, never stayed on the same note.  the game was wrestled from the artist/director's control and the objects became the subjects.  as the exhibit and the models took control of the piece, all hell broke loose, the lighting grid was lowered onto the stage, the live musician walked out, and then at the end of the piece when i had given up understanding the story, except that the artist cheated on his girlfriend with one of the bourgeois women, a giant chaotic fight broke loose, as the polaroids got hung as an exhibit, everyone arguing and brawling with one another, a table full of champagne appearing, everyone getting drunk, the woman who had puked near the beginning got hammered again and flipped the table on the stage, people taking their clothes off and making out with everyone except who they should, someone standing up and announcing they were moving to canada in the midst of all this and a big eulogistic speech on the beauty of canada, and then the artist wandering upstage to get naked and paint himself red and green and in the very end walking down and centre with a sign over himself saying "where there's a picture there's a hole in reality".  

start with rules, challenge them, destroy them, invent new ones, and end where you never meant to go.  beautiful structure.  something i learned from johanna and take very seriously.  playing on one note is boring and formalistic.  being formalist is not the problem, it's staying formalist.  there's no danger, surprise, or suspense if the control of the game isn't wrestled away.  and i walked out with this giant grin on my face at the sheer beautiful ugliness of the chaos (i love nothing more than a play that ends with all hell breaking loose, and this was really beautifully done), and waited in the lobby, totally curious to hear the audience reaction.  the patrons of the staatstheater are about the usual stratford demographic, old people by and large, with the occasional theatre student in the mix, but mostly bourgeois and conservative-looking.  i know that had something like that happened in canada, there would have been walkouts and refunds and a whole pile of offended and distraught old ladies.  so i wanted to eavesdrop.  

i was blown away—they didn't all love it, definitely not, but the reactions were critically engaged.  some old lady even said it was yeah ok fine but a little boring.  an old lady finding a naked dude painted green with an artistic statement over his dick ok but boring.  huh.  the thing is—innovation and experimentation are to be expected in this theatre culture.  maybe it's been done i suppose, i mean what's a german play without a naked person or three, but that the tolerance and willingness to discuss instead of simply marching off with a neo-protestant kind of prudishness and deeply offended bourgeois sensibility—i mean, this is maybe the most capitalist city in all of germany and the audience is exactly the demographic being lampooned and challenged onstage—and they more than happily keep coming and buying tickets.  not only that, they are all at least marginally aware of the aesthetic theory that goes into the choices and try to understand the particular modes of expression chosen by the director and actors because it's a cultural responsibility almost—hard to imagine.  

my parents are extremely supportive of me and my work, and they usually have a night during the runs of my shows where they invite all their friends to come and watch—the support is extremely generous and usually they have a lot of fun and are extremely tolerant of whatever theatrical experimentation i'm trying to do, but the number of people who flat-out don't understand even the story is pretty funny to me.  because it's me, their friend's kid, they're very polite, and will even tolerate sitting on milk crates and being told by an actress dressed as a crackwhore that she'll "suck their cock for five bucks" who then sticks her first in her mouth and falls over—but as far as they understand, that's not what theatre's about.  that's me dicking around and being provocative.  i don't mean to knock them—i really am so incredibly grateful for the support and interest, and actually those are my favourite nights because i'm playing to an audience that is more or less blind to the aesthetic theories i'm playing with—they are pure spectators and react with all the surprise i could hope for—it's just such a different culture here.  these old bourgeois ladies here would probably think the crackwhore was old news (so 1970s).  it's hard to articulate, it's just such an incredibly different way of consuming theatre here.  

that, and the theatres are (currently at least) well-enough funded that they can take artistic risks and not go out of business.  because the funding is there, artistic experimentation is not only possible, it's the norm, and the audience has to be on their toes—theatre here has the freedom to challenge and interrogate the audience because the financial concerns are smaller, and so theatre can actually take its proper place as a forum for challenging norms, instead of being dictated by the consumer market to give the audience what it wants.  so long as theatre has to rely so heavily on the capitalist economy and notions of supply and demand, it remains a buyer's market, and not a seller's market.  the artistic prerogative is killed by popular demand, rather than being a critic of the establishment the artist is bound to propagate these norms, and provide safe, morally acceptable, and comfortable perspectives.  

actually it all comes from the damn puritans who first settled the new world and thought that things like theatre and dancing were the devil's work and from the very moment of the new world's founding theatre was marginalized instead recognized as a culturally valuable forum to discuss and challenge the accepted ideologies.  theatre has always lived off patronage and not consumerism, and here patronage was undertaken by the nobility and aristocracy—the government itself.  in canada and the u.s. the rich ruling class spend their patronage money on things like hospitals and musuems, which are inarguably important, but do not foster voices of dissent.  we have not yet stepped into an age in canada where we are ready to challenge our establishment because we're just so damn proud of having a culture at all and would rather celebrate than interrogate it.  

i would take it to some inspiring conclusion and offer a solution if i could, but that requires a orchestrating a culture shift beyond my control.  all i can say is—

balls.
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