Red Baron loves the theater and had his fill when living in Munich as a
student and young scientist.
During my time at CERN, I really missed the cool German acting compared to the theatrical French acting. Therefore, I took any opportunity to go to the theater in Austria (Vienna's Burgtheater!) or Germany. However, as time went by, I saw original classical texts
modified; later, classical plays were even rewritten, so that, eventually, the so-called Regietheater (director's theater) started to
piss me off.
This is one reason my enthusiasm for the theater has waned. However, I saw a remarkable performance of Les mains sales (Dirty Hands) by Jean-Paul Sartre at Berlin's Deutsches Theater last year. Hence, during my recent visit, I decided to give Berlin's theaters another try.
Long before I traveled to Berlin for a family celebration in September,
I looked through the offerings on the Internet. I chose two plays on two
consecutive evenings: Die Räuber (The Robbers) by Friedrich Schiller at the Brecht Theater and Die Mutter (The Mother) by Bertold Brecht, well, not at the Schiller Theater* but at
the Schaubühne.
When in Berlin, one of my questions was: Can the director of Die Räuber at the Brecht Theater top the Freiburg performance? Body fluids, again, were a vital ingredient copiously sprayed on a flat stage. As a precaution against any spillover, the first row of seats had been left empty. Nevertheless, Red Baron, sitting in the third row, was hit, although just by a crumpled-up paper that landed on my lap. It was Karl's famous letter that Franz had falsified. In the play, Franz reads it aloud to his father, blackening his brother.
Generally, the action on stage was more animated and brutal than at Freiburg, when, for example, the gang of robbers used their six-shooters.
Near the end, Amalia's performance in Freiburg was topped with Franz
die Kanaille (the scoundrel) walking up to the front of the stage
stark naked. Well, he did not turn me on.
T
Brecht's famous Verfremdungseffekt (alienation effect) was lacking in this play. This absence, however, posed no problem for the stage director.
Suddenly, the colored (!) actor and bass guitar player in Czarist Russia (in
the picture on the right) started reciting a strange text. Fortunately,
Mother Pelagea explained the mystery to me and the mostly young audience:
Our colored friend had simply been carried away by his desire to become a
serious actor in playing the Prince of Homburg. Although I had seen
Heinrich von Kleist's Prinz von Homburg
at Berlin's Maxim Gorki Theater in 2011, I had not recognized the unexpected words:
Red Baron enjoyed both evenings.
*Berlin's Schiller Theater closed in 1993 due to financial
problems.
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| On my way to the theater, walking along Schiffbauerdamm on a lazy, sunny late afternoon |
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The Bertold-Brecht-Theater at Schiffbauerdamm. Note the guy at the entrance selling pretzels.
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The Robbers was the first theater play that young Friedrich Schiller wrote
in his Sturm und Drang period. At that time, Die Räuber
was both a scandal and a success, the word Freiheit (liberty) being
uttered and shouted throughout the play. Indeed, the story of the two brothers' fight over their father's heritage and the same girl leaves the stage directors free to take liberties.
Three years ago, Red Baron had seen a performance of The Robbers at Freiburg's theater. During the drama, the scenery had been reduced to an inclined plane, slick with body fluids. The climax near the end concerned Amalia, the subject of all desire. She was standing at the top of the inclined plane, looking down on the two brothers, Karl and Franz, trying hard but in vain to climb the wet surface. Spontaneously, Amalia lifted her robe and exposed her private parts to spur their efforts.
Red Baron happened to be in the theater with many school kids watching Schiller's masterpiece; they might have done so as a dull assignment. No wonder their frustration suddenly discharged in a pubertal howling. This prompted the actor playing Karl to step forward and earnestly rebuke the adolescents. There was perfect silence on our way out.
Three years ago, Red Baron had seen a performance of The Robbers at Freiburg's theater. During the drama, the scenery had been reduced to an inclined plane, slick with body fluids. The climax near the end concerned Amalia, the subject of all desire. She was standing at the top of the inclined plane, looking down on the two brothers, Karl and Franz, trying hard but in vain to climb the wet surface. Spontaneously, Amalia lifted her robe and exposed her private parts to spur their efforts.
Red Baron happened to be in the theater with many school kids watching Schiller's masterpiece; they might have done so as a dull assignment. No wonder their frustration suddenly discharged in a pubertal howling. This prompted the actor playing Karl to step forward and earnestly rebuke the adolescents. There was perfect silence on our way out.
When in Berlin, one of my questions was: Can the director of Die Räuber at the Brecht Theater top the Freiburg performance? Body fluids, again, were a vital ingredient copiously sprayed on a flat stage. As a precaution against any spillover, the first row of seats had been left empty. Nevertheless, Red Baron, sitting in the third row, was hit, although just by a crumpled-up paper that landed on my lap. It was Karl's famous letter that Franz had falsified. In the play, Franz reads it aloud to his father, blackening his brother.
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| My souvenir |
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| Wind machines and chaos ©Bert Brecht Theater |
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| ©Schaubühne |
In Berlin, I saw Brecht's play, Die Mutter, the following evening. The action is located in Czarist Russia from 1905 to 1917, where social tensions gave rise to communist ideas. Mother Pelagea Vlassova opposes her son's involvement in protests. As time passes, Pelagea not only supports Pavel's underground activities against Czarist oppression of
the working class but also becomes the leading figure in the fight for workers'
rights.
Brecht's famous Verfremdungseffekt (alienation effect) was lacking in this play. This absence, however, posed no problem for the stage director.
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| ©Schaubühne |
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| * Things won't remain as they are (©Schaubühne) |
Looking at today's social situation: Is Brecht's key phrase in Die Mutter still valid? Already the Greeks knew πάντα ῥεῖ (panta rhei),
"everything flows."
Red Baron enjoyed both evenings.
**
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