2073: Die neue Kolonie – Review | Theater im Bahnhof Graz | ECN

The political shift to the right, already a global trend, is prompting intellectuals and creatives to reflect on the possible consequences of radical right-wing governments.

Theatre offers an opportunity to pin down much of what remains unspoken and, through deliberate overexposure, to show it clearly to its audience. At least that is what the TIB, the Theater im Bahnhof, does. And not just since yesterday. In its new production “2073: Die neue Kolonie. Spekulative Posse mit Text von Helene Thümmel”, it takes up this theme from the perspective of part of the TIB ensemble. For the satirical view, it is enough to project oneself into the year 2073 in order to be able to talk about everything that has happened over the past decades.

Or, thought through from today: what could be heading our way in the near future. The dystopian vision of a repressive government that has allied itself with Hungary and founded a Transdanubian confederation of states takes place in the folk costume hall of the Volkskundemuseum. A place where the garments on display were fitted with new information panels after the museum's reopening in 2022, and which the museum management itself has defined as a ‘time capsule'. Jacob Banigan leads the audience into the room with introductory words explaining the political circumstances in which it will find itself in the year 2073.

With the chosen location, the spectators effortlessly succeed in transporting themselves back to the 1930s, when folk costume held a particular political significance. Austrofascism, with its postulated corporative state, fuelled the notion of rural idyll – ideally in readily identifiable folk dress. Consequently, this theme is perfectly suited as an entry point into the piece. At the outset, Gabriela Hiti, Eva Hofer, Elisabeth Holzmeister and Monika Klengel present to the audience the mostly only verbally imagined garments of a long list of professions that have newly emerged as a result of the climate crisis and the global economic upheaval. There is talk of people conscripted to pollinate plants – so-called Pollen – or of an Ausseer diving guide who descends with his clientele into the already submerged town. Listed, among many others, are an international mediator in ritual robes, a Mürztal lab-meat butcher, or indeed the “Last Granny Against the Right”, to name but a small selection here. That support for the LGBTQ community has been banned and that “national mother games”, held of course in “Muttertracht”, are now celebrating a merry revival is addressed just as much as the appearance of the costume of the Prince of Pannonia-Styria.

After this deft dramaturgical-local interlocking, Wolfgang Lampl joins the actresses to enter with them into a confrontational setting from which he can only emerge as the loser. As the latecomer, he initially reaps nothing but contempt and gets none of that meagre snack ration which the actresses cheerfully swap among themselves in tin boxes. It soon becomes clear that the collective is engaged in a counter-movement to the purely male dominance in their society. The ensemble's utopia of building a ‘new colony' naturally involves the subjugation of everything male, which has managed to banish the feminine form even from the German language. The feminine article and every feminine noun no longer exist. “Die Tracht” becomes “der Tracht”, “die Mutter” becomes “der Mutter”. It must have been a difficult task to acquire this new linguistic form for the performance – hats off to that achievement!

All this, and the fact that women occupy a marginalised role in social life, spurs the collective on all the more to elevate its own sex to the one and only path to salvation. That this will not work either comes as no surprise and is even explicitly addressed in one scene. The desire for the man – this time intensified as a sexual object – cannot simply be argued away. This is illustrated by Elisabeth Holzmeister's dialogue with Wolfgang Lampl. It quickly becomes clear: more than just the utopia of the new colony connects the two.

The sudden switch into recitative – as it first arose in Europe in the Baroque and is traditionally cultivated in Asia in various forms of spoken opera – is explained by the Chinese hegemonic power, which places particular value on this handed-down art form. And to stay with art, Thümmel has also seen to it that her ensemble makes the destruction of central perspective, as one of the supposed principal causes of one-dimensional forms of society, its banner. ‘After all, there is more than one perspective' is another motto that director Ed Hauswirth also makes clear through the repeatedly varied placement of the actresses in relation to their male counterpart.

The text is peppered with socio-cultural allusions from politics, business and art, such as the reference to American philosophers of the far-right movement, the dethronement of Bert Brecht or the recollection of the AVL riots, and culminates finally in a closing song. Set to music by Benno Hiti, the movement's anthem rings out, containing the call to overthrow the ‘works of men'.

“2073: Die neue Kolonie” is a humorously absurd flight into a future in which women from the theatre underground rebel against a male-dominated society. Despite all their hope and effort, the bitter aftertaste nevertheless remains that we are indeed on a path that could end in this fascist cul-de-sac, against which resistance appears futile, at least for a long time to come. Anyone who enjoys intellectually pleasurable theatre will get their money's worth here!