Ten years isolation
Sometimes plays get legs and run by the world. „Lina Böglis journey “* was specified yesterday in Krakau. I asked myself, what knows the director Christoph Marthaler, me, Judith Arlt, nor Lina Bögli say about this woman? Since nobody answered, I went. In order to experience it. In „the Hala well Rajskiej “. In resounds to the Paradiesstrasse. A forgotten Requisitenkammer of the Stary Teatr. In the bus 192 my head the insight was misplaced that theatre does not only live on language. Sometimes the force of gravity works and humans comes not from the mark. I am Swiss, live in Berlin, search since years traces of Lina Bögli and her loving, general Julius Bijak. In Kwiatonowice. In new house. In new Holland. Her large nephew Paul closed me in March into its arms and said: „You are finite there! “Skies on ground connection. Where am I come? Sometimes I am at the right time at the correct place. It lasted for a long time. On red plastic chairs. A provisional spectator's stand. Nothing for humans with back pain. But recently usually. In shut down factories and empty-vacated hotels. Theatre is made. In Basel at the station of Baden I would not seriously have taken the piece. The songs as Kitsch laughs. The texts as hopelessly banal. In the citizen of Berlin Prater would have bored me the piece to death. I would be in the break beer drink gone. Like so many different also. And not again come. In Krakau however there was no break. To the Paradiesstrasse affected me the unsolvable dilemma of the main figure in a place, which I so far could not do. At me. On the stage a small woman stood in high-closed black costume. The disciplined educator outgoing 19. Century. And around it the longing rampantly grew. Homesickness. Switzerland. Switzerland as radio. Switzerland for on and switching off. Switzerland as pushbutton. Switzerland as postmen. Switzerland as sea and Landweg. Switzerland as suffering over suffering instead of suffering instead of suffering creates country and people. Switzerland as Gottfried God hard. The possession greed of a alpine passport transition. Since the antique one we know Personifizierungen. Personifizierte of fears. Personifizierte of dreams. Personifizierte of impulses. Amor and psyche. The expansion of the area is new. The Requisitenkammer. Depth psychology on organ pipes. Mourning march at the standing desk. The dear grief is paged out. Modern outsourcing. The suffering ability runs beside the baton. The stage as interior. That is nothing at all new. In order to make ten years of terrible isolation noticeable, a glass water is sufficient. A red apple. And three singing boys.
