Hallo! Ich bin Sadie, and I’m writing on my experience working with the Maxim Gorki Theater here in Berlin, Germany from my cozy flat in Prenzlauer Berg: just a 20 minute tram ride NE of the historic Alexanderplatz. My interest in the Gorki actually started back in January during orientation week for my spring semester abroad at NYU Berlin. Our program was invited to attend a panel discussion on “Germany in the Headlines”, covering the socio-economic polarization, most recent political discontents, and large population movements rapidly changing German and European societies. The panelists included two professors on metropolitan studies, from TU and EUI, a journalist from Bloomberg, a journalist from the Federal Chancellery and finally, Irina Szodruch, an actor speaking on behalf of the Gorki Theatre. The Gorki, she remarked is advancing the notion of ‘post-migrant’ theatre, interweaving themes of migration and the actor’s own backgrounds into their shows in order to reflect on modern migrant experiences.
The panelists went on to offer many insights on the ways and reasons behind which migrants and native Germans both succeed and struggle to live together, citing the nuances from both personal experience and ideological conflicts in doing so. As they discussed the unique position of Berlin in this shifting paradigm, and its attempts to thwart the rise of the far-right German nationalist party known as the AFD, Szodruch brought up a notion that the Gorki stands by, and one that struck me in particular, known as “Desintegration”. The term, which literally translates to “dis-integration” but feels closer to “anti-integration” in English, is implemented in the Gorki philosophy, and motto, “Desintegriert euch!” or “Dis-integrate yourself!”. She went on to explain that this is to be understood as a call for everyone to ask for new perspectives to the present and known challenges which we face in our respective societies. To disintegrate yourself, she explained, means to abandon our preconceptions around “nation” and “identity” in order to allow for something new, decided not just by the majority but with the input of those implicated, that is, by migrants themselves too, to arise in its absence. In order for us to connect, she went on, we must first dissolve, leave behind the previously known and the previously thought because what we experience in neo-fascist movements both in Germany and around the world change, and so too, common causes must first be disintegrated in order to be redefined. It is no surprise that simple solutions and reductive narratives that point to integration in units and homogeneities no longer correspond to the realities and expectations of our society, but after the discussion, I kept thinking about what it meant for a performing arts institution such as the Gorki to pit itself against the very concept of integration.
And it is thus that I decided I needed to know more about the Gorki and how it is that they take up this radical negotiation of the relationship between performance and the political. Taking into consideration the fact that Germany’s mostly homogenous theater landscape is pretty much a bastion of ‘Hochkultur’, or high culture, I was a bit skeptical to be honest, of the success of the Gorki Theatre in its efforts to break taboos and shatter German preconceptions around identity, diversity, and migration. Once I was given the opportunity to do research on the Gorki, the first person I reached out to was Katrin Dettmer, the Arts Coordinator and Tisch Drama Professor at NYUB who co-taught a class on “Stanislavsky, Brecht and Beyond” this past semester. Professor Dettmer agreed to meet with me and tell me all about the various Theatres in Berlin, the legacy of Brecht, and the role of the ‘outlier’ played by the Gorki. She explained that Brecht, a neo-Marxist playwright popular during the first half of the 20th century, in the style of ‘Epic Theatre’, proposed that a play should not cause the spectator to identify emotionally with the characters or action before him or her, but should instead provoke rational self-reflection and a critical view of the action on the stage. Contemporary German Theatre, Professor Dettmer explained, still very much carries on in the Brechtian tradition. She also explained that the German theater landscape is unlike those in the rest of Europe in that it is heavily state-funded and therefore under less pressure to deliver major box office returns. Thus too, German theater has much more leeway and creative freedom when it comes to undertaking experimental projects, and this is how a theatre like the Gorki, the smallest of all of Berlin’s state theaters, can do something as (relatively) bold as forming a whole ensemble of migrant actors; which, according to Dettmer, and the sentiments of those I talked to around Berlin, is really quite bold if you consider the complete homogeneity with regard to both actors and audience characterizing the other Classic Theatres in Berlin. —Side note: Although Great Britain and the United States have been casting actors with migrant backgrounds since the 1950s, this didn’t take form in Germany until 1979, when the (now internationally-renowned) theater director Peter Stein put together a completely Turkish cast for a performance at the Schaubühne Theater.— The Gorki, Dettmer explained, also makes an effort to be more widely accessible to the public than the other theatres, with ticket prices averaging at about 22EUR, and discounted tickets available online to students, larger groups, persons with disabilities, and veterans.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when going to attend my first show at the Gorki, Winterreise, but I had seen promotional flyers scattered across the Bahnhofs (train stations) and posted on lampposts all over the city. It only took a 15 minute tram ride on the M1 towards Am Kupfergraben to get to the Gorki, previously known as the Singakademie, in the city center of Mitte, and just a 5-minute walk from the infamous Museum Island. It was smaller than I had expected, but the scene was quite lively as I made my entrance just fifteen minutes before the show; I found myself making small talk with a few German students as I observed quite the crowd gather, holding wine glasses and pretzels, and notebooks and pens throughout the garden facing the front steps of the Theater. The crowd seemed to be composed of a mishmash of student groups, a few twenty-something international/intellectual types, and a number of well-dressed middle-aged Germans. A few minutes before the show, a series of bell-tones went off to alert us that the show was about to start, and so, inside we went. The show consisted of 8 actors and actresses, 7 of which had found refuge in Germany after escaping war zones and are embarking on a bus tour through the German winter led by our 8th actor, “Niel”, that is, the role of the welcoming German. I found myself (among others) laughing a LOT throughout the show, which I wasn’t used to at the Theatre, honestly, and then during certain monologues, I was in tears. There is definitely a lot to smile about when the frustrated demands of the Syrian refugees make our German tour guide sweat. Niels’ performance was especially funny when intimidating his guests with strict regulations and enforcing arbitrary but apparently necessary social norms. The jokes, mostly found within group moments on the bus and in one-on-one scenes, my favorite surrounding the good Chancellor “Fatima Merkel”, however, quickly transitioned into more serious moments. The lights would dim almost instantaneously as our laughs died down, the music would go from playful and cozy to dark and brooding almost as quickly, and our protagonists would then take to extensive monologues about their flight and migration experiences; how they snuck through the Turkish border, travelled on rickety boats across the Mediterranean and the Balkan route, how they bargained for passports with smugglers, and discussing how painful and disillusioning it can be when thinking about or being reminded of their ruined homeland.
Next week, I have an interview scheduled with Irina Szodruch, (took a bit longer than expected to get IRB approval) as well as with a Frankfurt-based friend of mine who interned at the Gorki this year. I hope to ask her about the Gorki’s philosophy, a few questions about where one draws the line between serious theatre and entertainment, as well as how far a joke at the Gorki can go. I will write on the second play I attended as well as the panel discussion hosted by the Gorki in my next blog post –excited to learn more. Auf Weidersehen!