What kind of stage director are you?

A portrait of Miriam Horwitz, Director of the play "Ich befürchte, jetzt kennen wir uns"

A production by Theater und Orchester Heidelberg

Es gefällt dir, Zuschauer,

nur Zuschauer anderer zu sein.

Aber heute, Zuschauer,

bist du nicht nur das.

10:00 o’clock. Pia Dederichs, costume designer, still isn’t here.

2 Minutes later she arrives. 

Too late. 

It’s the third time Pia is late, which means she has to cook for the whole team. 

This is just one of Miriam Horwitz’s rules.

Then Miriam starts the daily warm-up. 

30 minutes of fitness, stretching and poweryoga. 

That’s one of her other rules. 

She loves discipline, hard work, physical strength and health.

This means that she demands a lot from her actors.

But not only in a physical sense, also intellectually...

A lot of time is allocated during the rehearsals for talking. 

About current themes, politics, and society, mostly referring and connected to the project of course. Even the actors give special presentations about chosen topics.

Although her way of leading is quite strict, she really wants to create a team around her. 

Everybody’s opinion, suggestion or advice is welcome. 

She is really interested in everyone's impressions during rehearsals, even from the young students or interns (I have not seen any other director who includes everyone from the artistic team, no matter which position they have). 

She creates a very familial atmosphere. It is not just some people working together for a few weeks; working with Miriam Horwitz means spending a period of your lifetime together. And it can be really fun. Her energy is impressive and contagious. She herself is a performer during the rehearsals from time to time, playing the king, the teacher, the mother or just being crazy. 

She wants artistic freedom, meaning time and liberty for the process, for creating, finding, forming, trying, failing, and building a team, which is 100% dedicated to the project, working towards an aim, which is never 100 % definite. 

This way of working is not always easy when putting it in the context of a city theatre, with its hierarchical structure, its bureaucratic system and the lack of time.

It’s like the dramaturge Bernd Stegemann says: 

“The director’s force crystallizes in the ability to turn the genuine character of the text, with his chosen propositions and together with the actors, to a new quality. 

The greater this force is, the more successful the performance can get, or the more disastrous its failure“.

This is the risk more directors should take.

Miriam does.

After all Miriam's work is essentially about finding a new language on stage.

And it is not just the actors, the lighting technician or even me that have to learn it. 

It’s important for the audience to understand her intention and to grasp a feeling for her artistic cosmos, because and especially this time, from the very first show of „Ich befürchte, jetzt wir kennen uns“ we will be on our own conducting it, having no cues, no scenic lighting – we will decide which light and when. We are free to make our own decisions.  So are the actors. We have built a framework in which we can move.  

Our strength is in our intuition and the trust we have in each other.

Miriam's work opens spaces, in which the audience has to fill with their interpretation, with their thoughts, associations, mental connections and imagination.

The audience has to be awake and aware, 

just as Miriams actors/dancers/performers have to. 

And if the audience is willing to „work“ and not only wanting to be entertained,  maybe they will find out what Miriam's work is about.

„It’s the spectator, not life, that art really mirrors“. 

(Oscar Wilde)

Juri Padel
Assistant Director

 

 Miriam Horwitz, Credit: Pia Dederichs

Welcome Berlin!

Berlin, November 6 2014

Miriam Kičiňová takes a look back on the mutual work started with the Deutsches Theater Berlin one year ago, and the play "Land der ersten Dinge" (written by Nino Haratischwili). The premiere is next week on November 14. 

It has been already some time before the start of the project „Bludičky“. But now the third part of the journey through the topic of ageing starts for me.   

The first part of the trip started some time ago. It was a year ago when I met Nino Haratischwili, Christa Müller, Malin Nagel and Ulrich Beck for the first time and we started to talk about the topic, our work on the text together and the performances in Berlin and Bratislava.

It was really fun to work on this, but also quite hard to explore our common and very different history.  We searched for an interesting approach. And after that Nino came up with her story. A nice story. A strong story. A sad story. A story of hope. A story that tells us that we can understand things better when we know each other’s origins. 

And after that, we discussed our visions a lot, our different readings of our history. We had deep talks about feelings that are based on our personal experiences, feelings that remain hidden in our subconsciousness because of historical experiences. Maybe this is why we are still going back to the past. We are still trying to understand, trying not to forget. Thanks to Bludičky, a very important part of my history was opened up to me, the history of my family, as well as that of lots of families in Slovakia. And it is nice that this was opened up to me by someone from abroad. Someone, who can see things in a more objective way. Thanks to Bludičky, we can also understand the history of the last 50 years of German families. Thank you, my German friends. 

The second part of the trip took place in Bratislava and it was very strong. We started to rehearse the  play Land der ersten Dinge/Bludičky. It was a deep, strong and also passionate meeting. The rehearsals were about questioning, searching and changing. We worked in such a nice atmosphere together and I cannot continue writing without saying thank you to the team : Brit, Karin, Niko, Peter and Thies. For me, it was so impressive to see the work of Gabi Heinz on stage. Of course I know the work of our actors, but seeing her work was something totally new for me and very inspiring for my future work. How is it possible, at the same time, to see a strong emotion on stage and acquire distance to it, always immediately, intensively, and so easily? 

A big part of our journey is already over. We really had fun and enjoyed it so much. Of course when comparing two different working system of two big theatre houses, we have to admit that it is not always easy to understand each other and that everyone has different expectations. But the whole experience was very enriching, even if that sounds cliché. But the journey is not over yet, the most important part is in front of us now. 

For me, it starts right now, as I just arrived in Berlin to join the team during rehearsals. We are still researching and trying to understand our history, and history in general, better. Therefore, welcome to Berlin! 

To be continued....

Miriam Kičiňová

Dramaturge at the Slovak National Theatre, Bratislava

Immersion into rehearsal

Glimpse of a dialogue between the actors of the production "Ich befürchte, jetzt kennen wir uns" (Theater und Orchester Heidelberg)

Andreas

We have to be careful not to celebrate the sentences too much and by that give them just one meaning. That would be wrong.

Josepha

You could compare that awareness of the language to the situation when you don't just produce a sound while singing but you listen to yourself develop that sound and you feel it and sing it out because you want to hear it.

Miriam

One is exposed on stage and has to be careful not to fall off it. And while doing that, you have to say your lines and pay attention to how you say them and know what they mean and on top of that you have to play with the audience.

Fabian

I am in a weird state right now. I can't say I have understood but I notice that there is something developing.

Lisa

Sometimes emotions arise from the examination of the text while you say the words. For example, you start to cry because you notice that you ask "do you remember" three times and nothing happens.

If an emotion arises from somewhere else but the lines, we can just let that emotion happen if it fits the scene. That makes us sincere.

Fabian

Learn to be in the moment more than just on stage - what is staged, what is the moment?

Andreas

For me it is about the effort of making the unvisible visible.

Lisa

We miss each other in the attempt of communicating and sharing. Speech is breath is body.

We are building a language.

We are banging against walls, verbally and literally.

Josepha

We need to move our utopia from an island to the land.

An abstract utopia can't age.

Utopical ideas are more similar to maps than to tales.

Each figure has their own time.

Our economy of gazing. 

Affective presences. 

Hug machine   

The ship has to go over the mountain.

Do we have strange memories?

We are not animals in herds but hunters who hunt in groups.

Can the mountain grow so that the audience sits inside of it?

We are eating "snowballs" and "icecream", sticking ourselves to one another, we are melting and desolving, between all of that we are killing ourselves and afterwards our remains stood on the roots of the old maple tree that had been burried deep for a long time.

The German press talks about "Erdbeerwaisen"

The premiere of the production "Erdbeerwaisen" (Strawberry Orphans / Capsunile si Orfanii) took place last Thursday October 23 at the Staatstheater Braunschweig. 

Here is a selection of articles, tv and radio links:

Nachtkritik
Geld oder Kinder?
By Jan Fischer
>> Click here to read

Norddeutscher Rundfunk
"Erdbeerwaisen" - Eine verlassene Generation
>> Click here to watch and listen

Deutschland radio
"Erdbeerwaisen" - ein Theaterstück in Braunschweig über EU-Waisen in Rumänien
>> Click here to listen

Braunschweiger Zeitung"Erdbeerwaisen" weinen nicht
By Florian Amold

Translating = Creating

Some thoughts on Ivor Martinic’s play “Bojim se da se sada poznajemo” (“I’m afraid we know each other now”)

by Renata Britvec, translator of the play from Croatian into German

„A language is always a whole world view”, my professor of philosophy used to say. What seems so obvious opened up a new perspective to me and raised a lot of questions. During my studies, I started to ask myself about my native language from another, broader point of view and I also started questioning how my mother tongue affected the way I express myself in German, or any other language I speak. Back then I realized how strongly my mother tongue determines my personality and how the simple fact that I am bilingual causes many misunderstandings, and that there is always the imagery, the fierceness, the head-on brutality, the meekness, the sense of humor, and the meandering ways to tell stories of my home countries which always seeps through and interferes with my expression and way of speaking.

I love my language, I love the way it creates and destroys images. I also love that you can be obvious and subtle at the same time. But how can you translate this language without losing all the richness? I realized I wanted to dedicate myself to these questions, and not only on a theoretical level. I wanted to contribute to creating an understanding for the cultures of the Ex YU countries. So I started translating, short texts at first, then longer ones, from different genres, and as my way has always led me to the theater somehow, I ended up being a translator of dramatic texts.

When Jürgen Popig of Theater and Orchester Heidelberg asked me to translate Ivor Martinić’s new play for the project The Art of Ageing, I was honored and excited. I had read Martinić’s work before and his subtle writing and his ability to create a strong narrative in dramatic texts impressed me a lot.

In Martinić’s new play “Bojim se da se sada poznajemo” (“I’m afraid we know each other now”) Ivana leaves Filip for his increasing inability to create a common narrative and therefore (a personal) history. He cannot remember important moments of their relationship, like the first time she told him she loved him, nor is he willing to remember or to recreate those moments for the sake of her – and his! - wellbeing. Even when she breaks up with him, he refuses to react appropriately. Instead of saying something valuable, he just recites what his mother told him once. Ivana cannot accept his reaction and comes back and back again to demand a real and just ending, an ending she will be able to retell as part of her personal history. As soon as they aware of the break-up, Filip’s neighbor Andreas and Filip’s friend Natalija come to support him. While Andreas is trying to persuade Filip to come Ivana’s way and find a nice ending, Natalija is holding on to her conviction that Ivana does not deserve a man like Filip anyway. The two of them probably serve as hidden undercurrents of Filip’s persona. When these antagonists eventually knock each other out and Filip is alone again, he subsequently finds a way to create the story of his relationship and to make peace with himself, with Ivana, and with their failed relationship. “I’m afraid we know each other now” is a subtle play about the human need to locate oneself in history, and moreover, to create a personal narrative, where memory, emotion and what one desires supplement the truth.

As I have stated before, Ivana leaves Filip because of his inability to create a common narrative, which means specifically that he is unable to express his emotions through language: He himself explains at a later point of the play that he always felt the most urgent need to tell her he loved her while she was asleep, and as soon as she would wake up, everything was gone. When she tells him the relationship is over, he cannot find words to express his feelings and instead quotes his mother, who told him about the best way to please a woman. He shifts his emotion into somebody else’s words, and he shifts the actual problem into something easier, more materialistic and “real”. But in the course of the play and in the course of his involvement with Andreas and Natalija, i.e. with himself, he realizes how important it would have been and still is to communicate. 

More important, he realizes he needs to actively translate his innermost feelings into words, and that he needs to talk, to narrate. He may be right with his assumption that words can never describe appropriately what we actually experience and/or feel: “How strangely do we diminish a thing as soon as we try to express it in words.”, says Maurice Maeterlinck (we’ve all been sceptics since the beginning of the 20th century, but …).

But the sole act of speaking is always a translation of what we feel, of something indescribable into words other people can share and understand. In the end Filip is able to open up and create a story by which he is able to express himself and his love for Ivana subsequently, and by doing so, he creates an end to the relationship he will be able to remember, and Ivana will be able to remember, too. By remembering and retelling their story, they will know it has been there, it has been true, and now it is over, finally.

Ivor Martinić created the play during and after the workshop with artists of Theater and Orchester Heidelberg and Gavella Theater Zagreb. With this play inspired by artists of at least two different nations, he beautifully demonstrates the human need for words, language, narration, memory and therefore history. But above all, he depicts the act of struggling for words which will translate what we feel into something we can grasp, we can understand, we can share and make peace with.

Renata Britvec, October 2014

Rehearsals in Heidelberg - Impressions by Ivor Martinic

Rehearsals of the performance "Ich befürchte, jetzt kennen wir uns" have started in Heidelberg on October 7. Photos by Ivor Martinic. 
Click here for more information about the play

The Strawberry Picker’s Heritage – Erdbeerwaisen

The German language is like Lego pieces; the words can interlock with each other, reaching incredible lengths. They adopt each other to form new words, new subtle or specific meanings. In that regard, it is a rather poetical language, even though it may sound abrupt. In Romanian, the title of the show was Căpşunile şi orfanii (Strawberry Orphans), which in German was translated as Erdbeerwaisen, almost identical to its English title – Strawberry Orphans; this translation didn’t suggest that those children belonged to strawberries and became orphans as a result of their absence, but rather meant that they were made orphans by strawberries. The English language is more flexible than Romanian too, because it even has a word for making, turning someone into an orphan: The children were orphaned by strawberries.

(...) "we have long become accustomed to the thought that people go away to Spain, Italy, England, Greece, Germany, and many other countries where this very complicated economy seems to be more stable." (...)

When I was little, I was under the impression that the world can only evolve and constantly improve, albeit at a slower pace. It only seemed natural, perhaps thanks to the stories I read, which always ended well for everyone who was good. I honestly believed that politicians learn from past mistakes and will automatically avoid repeating history, and I was convinced that economists can only improve the methods meant to control the economy. I have no better understanding of these things now, but at least I understand that everything is much, much too complicated and that people don’t always know, or do what’s best. Nor do Romanians know whether it’s always best to go and work in other countries; but when it seems to be the only option, and many others around you are doing it, you don’t waste time in securing your chance. Thus, we have long become accustomed to the thought that people go away to Spain, Italy, England, Greece, Germany, and many other countries where this very complicated economy seems to be more stable. And we’re used to hearing stories about those who left – some better, some worse. We, from the younger generations, have friends whose parents seem to have always been away, friends who come to aspire to the same goal because it’s the best success example they’ve ever had. 

It is also commonly known, although a generalization, that the orphans whose parents have left either miss a lot of school, or barely learn anything. They also say that all Roma people went abroad to steal or beg. Lots of other stereotypes circulate among us, oral and from the media; both the foreign press and the Romanian press have magnified these stereotypes for ratings’ sake, and we’ve assumed them without even realizing. The subject of the strawberry pickers has been disputed so much that we’ve somehow forgotten to pay attention to it; which is why a performance like Strawberry Orphans turns into a fundamental reflection, because it restores an objective perspective on the situation that has been happening in Romania for such a long time. The show, created within “The Art of Ageing” project, brought together four actors: two from Romania, from the National Theatre “Marin Sorescu” of Craiova, and two from Germany, from Staatstheater Braunschweig of the homonymous city. It was also supported by Goethe-Institut Bucharest, but by WorldVision and Save the Children too, which helped the artists’ team on their research work; through these two organizations, they were able to communicate with children, grandparents and families who live the reality of having relatives that work abroad. Their stories were dramatized in the performance I saw on the 28th of September in Craiova. Actors Gina Călinoiu, Gabriela Baciu, Sven Hönig and Oliver Simon animated these characters who live among us, and who were so real on stage that they must have brought tears to spectators’ eyes throughout the performance. On stage with the actors was musician Kim Efert, who provided the live soundtrack created with an electric guitar, synthesizers, a drum brush, and rhythmic tapping on the enormous cardboard box that was, in turn, a closet, the actors’ wardrobe kit, a children’s playground, or any other necessary furniture piece. 

The actors took their part in the research work; back in Germany, all four of them spent a day on a strawberry field, picking full baskets of this significant fruit, probably reflecting on how difficult it is to perform a task like this, day after day. The show’s director, Julia Roesler, together with other members of werkgruppe2, interviewed and had discussions with approximately 30 families in the Craiova area; the stories from the show are their stories, which the team tried to transpose in all their variety. The main subject here are the children and what happens to them when they cannot grow up next to their parents. Sven Hönig, an actor who is rather well-known on the scene of German cinematography as well, and who best managed to sink into the minds and worlds of the children he interpreted, concluded that for these so-called orphans, communication becomes the most difficult thing to do. Children like these don’t receive the same attention, or the same solid structure that would allow them to grow and evolve normally, with normal children’s thoughts. If Hönig was the most credible child, Gina Călinoiu was the most sensible one; her interpretation, oftentimes incredibly touching, demonstrated a level of empathy we should expect from all the citizens of this Europe we want to live in.

The show has its moments of original humor as well, but it works to further highlight the true bitterness of reality, like the scene when the cardboard box becomes an outhouse, and an interviewer’s voice asks: was this your toilet? The reply comes: it still is! On stage, we saw children who wished their parents brought them some doll when they came back, but more than anything, that they simply returned; children who tried to raise their younger brothers and sisters almost on their own, children who were apparently rejoicing in the liberty created by their parents’ absence, grotesquely matured children, sad children, but grandparents as well, who couldn’t enjoy their retirement, worried when their children stopped calling, or fearing that someday, the money might stop arriving. Similar situations from the Roma communities were interpreted, communities where the same children who rarely have access to a real education and equal rights – due to certain traditions, but also because of a less than tolerant society which is everything but equipped for such a responsibility –, are also deprived of the presence of parents who would at least love them. In order to have a real awareness impact, at the end of every show the actors are available for discussions and questions; the more we talk about this subject, the more real it will become, and we will come closer to finding a possible solution, or at least closer to eliminating a generalizing mentality that tends to discriminate against the seasonal immigrants from the get-go in the countries where they appear, but their children as well, whose poor start in life hinders a normal evolution in society. The performance will also be played in other Romanian cities like Sibiu, Brașov and Bucharest, thereupon following a similar route through Germany.

The situation is clearly overwhelming for all those involved, perhaps even more so for those who only know of these cases, like the Romanians, or for those who meet these cases in their own countries, like the Germans, the Italians, the Spanish, the French and so on. And yet we’re the ones who might be able to help, we whose families are at least together; the people who talked to the artists from werkgruppe2 often receive aid from the NGOs involved in this project, and which are mostly interested in providing the children with school supplies, making sure they can continue with their studies even when life at home is difficult. Projects like Strawberry Orphans are necessary, because they remind us to not become used to a tough situation, even if it’s been going on for such a long time that we barely notice it anymore. Habit leads to negligence, to forgetfulness, to indifference; and the theatre must take on a social role as well, like any of the arts – something that the collaborating artists have fully managed with this show. A show which, if analyzed from a purely aesthetic point of view, is well put together, played by discerning and skilled actors, and carrying that quality of keeping spectators on the edge of their seats, only this time being uncomfortable as well, because the theme itself brought to mind conflicting thoughts and emotions; a modern show directed with precision and minimal use of raw matter, but generous in subjects, range of emotions, and interpretation.

Lia Boangiu, Essayist & translator