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EXBERLINER Issue 170, April 2018

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WHAT’S ON — Stage<br />

Ute Langkafel<br />

Inspiration and exasperation<br />

I<br />

had doubts when I heard Sebastian<br />

Nübling was directing<br />

Heiner Müller’s Die Hamletmaschine<br />

(photo) at the Maxim<br />

Gorki Theater. The production<br />

would be performed by the Exil<br />

Ensemble, seven actors from<br />

Syria, Afghanistan and Palestine<br />

who had fled their lands to find<br />

a creative home at the Gorki; it<br />

would integrate new texts written<br />

by Ayham Majid Agha, a Syrian<br />

actor in the ensemble. Müller’s<br />

fragmentary riff on Shakespeare’s<br />

tragedy, so open to interpretation<br />

that one of its best known<br />

directors, Robert Wilson, flat-out<br />

admitted he didn’t understand<br />

it, would now be reconfigured to<br />

focus on the Middle East, becoming<br />

more tendentious, narrower,<br />

smaller. And then those production<br />

posters showing clowns: it<br />

just seemed wrong.<br />

But as it turns out, Agha’s textual<br />

interpolations blend surprisingly<br />

well with Müller’s script.<br />

In the original, a character calls<br />

himself “clown number two in the<br />

spring of communism,” providing<br />

the key to Nübling’s and Agha’s<br />

reconception of Hamletmaschine<br />

as a group of clowns born of<br />

the Arab Spring. These aren’t<br />

harmless clowns, either – think<br />

Chucky, not Bozo. The Middle<br />

Eastern contexts chime nicely<br />

The Gorki breathes life into Hamletmaschine, while<br />

the Volksbühne takes the fun out of sex. By Daniel Mufson<br />

with the original because<br />

Müller, too, alludes to events<br />

such as the crushed Hungarian<br />

uprising of 1956.<br />

And some phrases’ meanings<br />

multiply here. “The ruins of<br />

Europe behind me” becomes<br />

more, not less, suggestive when<br />

uttered by an actor fleeing the<br />

Middle East. The multilingual<br />

nature of the play, spoken in German,<br />

Arabic, and English, provides<br />

an excuse to foreground the<br />

text visually: The surtitles aren’t<br />

discreetly projected into a corner<br />

but are magnified, beamed large<br />

as part of the stage environment.<br />

Even without Agha’s additions,<br />

however, Müller’s words effortlessly<br />

take on new life when<br />

spoken by the losers of the failed<br />

Arab Spring: An actress delivers<br />

Ophelia’s lines about smashing<br />

the tools of her captivity and<br />

setting fire to her prison and<br />

then seems to break character,<br />

exclaiming, “I love this text!”<br />

With the passion of this production,<br />

so do we.<br />

Less passion is on display,<br />

ironically, in Albert Serra’s new<br />

play Liberté, which premiered<br />

last month at the Volksbühne.<br />

In it, a group of pre-French<br />

Revolution libertines have left<br />

France to arrive just outside of<br />

Berlin, where they hope to win<br />

the German court over to their<br />

decadent ways, formulating plans<br />

for the corruption of girls at a<br />

local convent or the import of<br />

sex slaves from Polynesia. Sadomasochism<br />

can be played for<br />

laughs or examined for its durably<br />

alluring psychological complexity,<br />

but Serra just makes it dull.<br />

Given his, shall we say, “leisurely<br />

paced” films, this shouldn’t be all<br />

too surprising, but a slow procession<br />

of quiet cinematic images can<br />

somehow generate more interest<br />

than a stage set lit so dimly that<br />

one often can’t figure out which<br />

actor is talking. The elaborate but<br />

monotone plotting of these sexual<br />

intrigues captivates the audience<br />

with all the erotic force of a store<br />

owner taking stock of pretzels.<br />

Even when characters finally start<br />

to get down and nasty, it’s hard to<br />

react with anything but a yawn:<br />

Not tonight, dear, I’m exhausted. ■<br />

Die Hamletmaschine ★★★★ Apr 6, 26, 19:30 (with English surtitles),<br />

Maxim Gorki | Liberté ★ 1978/<strong>2018</strong> Apr 7, 8, 19:30 (with English<br />

surtitles), Volksbühne<br />

Editor’s Choice<br />

DON’T MISS<br />

Momentum<br />

Cie.toula limnaios’<br />

new dance piece<br />

tries to locate intensity,<br />

mystery and<br />

poetry in the small<br />

moments of daily life.<br />

Apr 5-8, 12-15,<br />

Halle Tanz Berlin<br />

Isabelle Schad<br />

The Berlin-based<br />

choreographer and<br />

dancer has works at<br />

two different theatres<br />

this month: Fugen,<br />

her 2015 solo work<br />

exploring non-representational<br />

movement<br />

and the fugue;<br />

and Solo for Lea, a<br />

portrait of choreographer<br />

and dancer<br />

Lea Moro that uses<br />

aspects of the visual<br />

arts as well as dance.<br />

Apr 5-6, HAU3; Apr<br />

7-8, Sophiensaele<br />

The Einstein of Sex<br />

Copenhagen-based<br />

theatre company<br />

Livingstones Kabinet<br />

joined forces with<br />

Danish queer vocal<br />

group Schwanzen<br />

Sängerknaben to<br />

create a multimedia,<br />

English-language<br />

musical documentary<br />

performance about<br />

Weimar sexologist<br />

Magnus Hirschfield<br />

and his merry band<br />

of researchers.<br />

Apr 5-7, 20:00<br />

APRIL <strong>2018</strong> 35

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