Megalomania and self-abasement

by Michaela Preiner | Mar 22, 2024 | 2021, Theatre

They really do exist. Those small productions that travel the world without much fanfare and captivate audiences in every country, no matter where they land.

One such production has landed at the Kasematten „wortwiege“ Festival in Wiener Neustadt. “fragil / fragile” is the motto of this season and thus also captures the essence of the piece “The Anthology”. Smadar Yaaron and Moni Yossef from the Acco Theater in Israel manage to captivate the audience in their salon for over an hour. There is also plenty of laughter, although sometimes the laughter gets stuck in your throat.

“The Anthology” zu Gast beim wortwiege Festival in Wiener Neustadt. (Foto: Julia Kampichler)

Smadar plays a fine, old, Jewish lady on the piano, who accompanies herself musically to her stories about God and the world. The lively and witty opening monologue is understood in the replica as the construct of an identity that must be elevated due to its fragility and damage. Without this elevation, this woman would have perished long ago and so, although we initially laugh at megalomaniac interpretations of Jewish culture, it is only after some time that we understand why this is a pure survival strategy for the old lady.

Smadar speaks in a mixture of Hebrew, English and German about the creation of the world and that Judaism is simply the source of all existence – including, absurdly, that of the blues and tango. She talks about music as a means of survival as well as alcohol or pills, without which she would simply lose her grip. A grounding that, on closer inspection, is not grounding at all. But the story also revolves around a mother-son relationship that could not be more unhealthy. The reason for this mismatch is the old lady’s former internment in the Auschwitz concentration camp, the trauma of which she carries with her and, to make matters worse, passes on to her son. The latter – also 67 years old – only makes his grand entrance in the second part of the play and immediately mingles with the audience to talk to him. His mother’s first half is as spherical and artistic as his son’s second half, who, with a gas mask on his head, is a grotesque apparition from the very beginning.

In this psychological battle for bare survival, which the two characters obviously have to play throughout their lives, abysses open up. So deep that any political correctness is inherently doomed to failure. But it is precisely the blunt atrocities, wrapped up in charming words, that make it clear: What is done to a person in his or her life leaves its mark. No matter how cultivated he or she wants to live beyond it – the evil inflicted on him or her still breaks its way at certain points and poisons the offspring at the same time.

Nevertheless, there are also unexpected, humorous changes of scene, as well as deeply emotional outbursts. In one such scene, the 67-year-old man transforms into a small, whimpering boy. Gripped by horror, distant from his family, close to dying of thirst, he roars out his fears while standing on the piano. Whether this suffering took place or is taking place in a concentration camp or current combat zones is ultimately irrelevant. We witness a desperate group of people who are completely helpless and unable to defend themselves. Neither against the violence from outside, nor against the psychological violence of his mother.

Smadar Yaaron and Moni Yossef achieve the masterpiece of allowing us to look deep into the abysses of the soul with intense acting in which we participate at first hand, without accusing. Instead, a perpetrator-victim reversal takes place in the course of the performance that fascinates and repels at the same time. The bursting open of emotional wounds, the visibility of madness that is not self-inflicted, but into which one is driven, all this is realized with a virtuosity that is incredibly fascinating.

Applause, the means of survival for every actor and actress, is denied them by the audience. However, what at first glance appears to be regrettable for them turns out, just a few moments later, after the audience has left the room, to be a psychological rucksack that they have unnoticeably put on the audience. Not being allowed to clap and having to sneak away quietly is like a gesture of head bowing, shame and confession of guilt. As is repeatedly postulated, we should not speak of collective guilt. But wouldn’t it be fair to pass on feelings of guilt across generations in the same way that traumas are passed on to future generations?

“The Anthology” is not only of the highest quality in terms of acting. The content, as simple as it may seem at first glance, also lives on an unbelievable number of levels, which must inevitably raise a whole series of questions for any thinking person. By inviting the Israeli duo, Anna Maria Krassnigg gave the audience a brilliant premiere towards the end of the festival in the Kasematten in Wiener Neustadt, which ends on March 24, 2024.

This text was automatically translated with deepl.com

A good story is like a fit knife

by Aurelia Gruber | Sep 17, 2023 | 2021, Theatre

“A good story is like a fit knife”. Anna Luca Poloni recites this sentence at the beginning and end of her production “Orlando Trip“, which she premiered in Austria together with Christian Mair at the festival “Europa in Szene” focusing on “Sea Change – the art of transformation” at the Kasematten in Wiener Neustadt.

The cinematic-musical show, produced under the label “Fox on ice”, leans on the tradition of “concept albums” with 12 songs. With his album “Frank Sinatra sings for only the lonely“, Frank Sinatra is considered the forefather of this genre, in which the individual titles refer to each other and thus follow a certain “concept”.

“Orlando Trip” refers to Virginia Woolf’s famous book “Orlando” in which she tells of the transformation of a medieval knight into a woman. The fact that this transformation takes place over a period of 400 years additionally underlines the story’s fantastic construction of ideas. The original inspired and continues to inspire many artists to take up the material again and add their own interpretations. What is little known, even among literature geeks, is the fact that Woolf had a model for her text. Ludovico Ariosto’s “Orlando furioso” from the 16th century.Interestingly, it is precisely in our time that it is increasingly popping up in different ways. Several film adaptations, an opera by Olga Neuwirth, radio play adaptations, dance performances, but also those in public space, such as the Orlando project in Vienna make it clear that the material still offers sufficient impulses to deal with it in an original way.

Orlando trip (Photo: Ludwig Drahosch)

Christian Mair and Anna Luca Poloni alias Anna Maria Krassnigg do this in their own way, which has a high recognition value. Film material, recorded by Christian Mair, is interlocked with texts by Anna Luca Poloni, which are sung by her, but partly also recited in a speech style. One is amazed at how polyglot the artist couple is in this production. The texts are largely written in English poetry, an undertaking usually only mastered by those literary artists whose mother tongue is English. In addition, there are Italian, but also French sprinklings, which underline the international touch that the production has.

It is not necessary to read the material beforehand, yet “Orlando Trip” manages to make you want to pick up Woolf’s book afterwards to read it for the first time, but also to read it again. A fact that is often found in productions by ‘wortwiege’. This also shows that one of the main tasks of this theatre is to convey literature. It doesn’t matter whether it’s about dramas or dramatised material. Sensual, joyful, theatrically realisable – these are the criteria that are decisive for a reception and a realisation of wortwiege. Not to forget: worthy of discussion.

Christian Mair’s compositions in “Orlando Trip” move between soft, often darkly coloured, lyrical songs and rocky, rhythmic, up to poppy catchy tunes. The performers trace the development of Orlando, underpin it with current visuals from many different countries and open windows into dream worlds. The main theme is the physical, but not mental transformation that Orlando undergoes in his sleep without any active intervention on his part. One witnesses how, as a young man, he discovers his feelings and his infatuation with Sasha, who abandons him at the all-important moment. One follows his turn to literature, which he continues to uphold as an elixir of life even later as a woman. And one marvels at the resistance of the female Orlando, who knows how to preserve her independence despite marriage and a son.

Orlando trip (Photo: Ludwig Drahosch)

Anna Luca Poloni’s androgynous charisma in this production supports the fluidity between the gender boundaries. At the same time, despite her delicate appearance, one feels a permanent force in the portrayal of both the male and female parts that seems to be independent of gender. Young Orlando turns to literature as a matter of course after his love disaster in his inner emigration. Financially independent, he does not even ask himself whether he can and is allowed to do so. But one can also authentically empathise with the female astonishment at the games between man and woman. When Anna Luca Poloni sings “dimmi, Capitano”, this also addresses the female fascination with the uniform. At the same time, however, she conveys an irrevocable will for freedom at every moment, which she retains even after her transformation into a woman.

Christian Mair forms a kind of rock in the surf of the production next to her with his electric guitar. Setting the pace, he nevertheless succeeds in giving his partner so much playful freedom that they both appear equal in the audience’s perception. A circumstance that is seldom encountered in the concert business, but here it works perfectly in a symbiotic way.

“Why glue together? Is this nature’s will?” Orlando sings at one point, raising the question of cohabitation and marriage as a socially established phenomenon. Unlike current gender debates, Orlando`s transformation is completely frictionless, almost natural, at best astonishing. It is to this production’s greatest credit that it highlights this, albeit hypothetical, pacifist possibility.

As part of the “Sea Change” initiative, “Orlando Trip” was and is shown in many European countries. It would be a pleasure to be present at every single performance abroad to be able to follow the different audience reactions. At the premiere in the casemates of Wiener Neustadt, “Fox on ice” was applauded frenetically.

There will be another performance on 23.9.

This article was translated automatically with deepl.com

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Why is this Shakespeare so unknown?

by Aurelia Gruber | Sep 22, 2022 | 2021, Theatre

When the name Shakespeare comes to mind, most of us probably think of the royal dramas such as Lear, Macbeth or Hamlet. But to find someone who has seen Coriolanus, you have to search a long time. The theatre company “wortwiege” has just remedied this with its festival “Europa in Szene”. The theatre maker and professor of directing at the Max Reinhardt Seminar, Anna Maria Krassnigg, invited two former students of her directing class to the current festival edition to show their final projects. Azelia Opak dug deep into her research and, with an ensemble of young but already established actors and two members of the “wortwiege”, presents the rise and fall of the Roman patrician Coriolanus. It is the last Shakespeare work and is generally considered mature. Its varying interpretive authority may perhaps be to blame for the fact that it is not often performed.

Coriolanus (Photo: Julia Kampichler)

Coriolanus, drilled for battle from childhood, applies for the office of Roman consul, pushed by his mother. He has sufficiently earned the merits for it; he could show more than 20 scars to the people, as was customary before taking office, in order to prove himself loyal to Rome. He could – if it were not for his indomitable pride. It is this pride that finally brings him down. A few centuries after Shakespeare, there will be a second character called Michael Kohlhaas who will be just as unbending as Coriolanus, even if the motive is different.

But until that happens, Opak shows Shakespeare’s characters in all their psychological differentiation: Coriolanus (Lukas Haas), the indomitable one, who for once does not remain true to his principles, but otherwise can be considered a stubborn man par excellance. It’s great how Haas can talk himself into a fury that is almost frightening. His mother Volumnia (Judith Richter), who, like today’s sports mothers, demands everything from her son in order to be able to bask in his glory. Menenius Agrippa (Jens Ole Schmieder), a member of the elite caste, who supports Coriolanus with well-meaning advice so as not to endanger his own position. Tullus Aufidius (Philipp Dornauer), Coriolanus’ multiple loser in battle, is just waiting to take revenge at the right moment. Despite his youth, Dornauer mimes a hot-blooded fighter, but puts a large portion of thoughtfulness before each of his actions. Junius Brutus (Paul Hüttinger), one of the first tribunes of the people, quickly learned how political intrigues work. Although his external attributes, such as a thick silver chain around his neck, indicate his closeness to the people, Hüttinger nevertheless imbues his tribune with a great deal of deviousness and cunning. Finally, Sicinius Velutus (Uwe Reichwaldt), second tribune of the people, who, in Opak’s direction, muddles his way through all dangerous situations like an Austrian civil servant-Slavin and has the audience’s sympathy on his side.

An extremely clever stage design (Felix Huber) separates the long stage space. A round revolving door – the front in gleaming gold, the back painted pitch black – indicates whether the action is taking place in Rome or with Rome’s enemy, the Volsces. After the last battle won, Coriolanus smears blood with his own hands on the large mirror in the stage apse, making it clear that his battles have cost more than just one human life.

The idea of accompanying the production with live music is not only great, but also makes dramaturgical sense. Boglarka Bako and Marie Schmidt repeatedly intonate Beethoven’s Coriolanus motif with slight variations on their string instruments. This also underlines those moments in which the patrician sees himself completely in his element as a popular leader and aristocratic ruler who takes the right to make his decisions without the people, whom he actually considers annoying and dispensable. The two musicians sit left and right at the back of the stage in such a way that they can be seen but do not disturb the play on the limited stage.

The production not only lives from the fact that it shows different views of a successful state and their respective representatives. The production also lives from strong, emotional moments, such as the one in which Coriolan’s mother throws herself on her knees before him and begs him for mercy for Rome. The way she clings to him shortly afterwards clearly shows the fateful connection between her and her son. Judith Richter remains indelibly in memory with this scene. But Jens Ole Schmieder also succeeds in showing what high acting is in an almost wordless performance. The way he pushes the tribunes to the side of the stage with short, disparaging snaps and doesn’t let them take their seats in the middle gets under your skin and makes him deeply despicable at this moment.

Who is good here and who is evil here is ultimately not really discernible. As in real life, there is no real black and no real white in this play. What remains is the realisation that politics used to be made by people, just as it is today. By people who, on the one hand, are where they are by virtue of their own will and, on the other hand, have conquered a place for themselves thanks to family or political networks, for which they are prepared to make personal sacrifices, but also to go over dead bodies.

The fact that the play seems to be made for the casemates in Wiener Neustadt is another plus point of the production. The other performances are framed by salon talks, but also a new format. With “speeches”, speeches by famous people are reenacted, which one usually only knows from hearsay. Another great artistic idea that illuminates the large field of “power”, which is ultimately the subject of “Szene Europa” in the casemates of Wiener Neustadt, from a different angle.

This article was translated with deepl.com