Wednesday I attended the premiere of the
Kleist-award-winning play Brandung,
by Maria Milisavljevic. The play is being performed at the Ruhrfestspiele's new
space, Halle König Ludwig, a converted industrial space out in the middle of
nowhere. The festival supposedly runs a shuttle service, but it was unavailable
for the premiere. I attempted to walk there, which according to the computer
should have taken a little over an hour. After walking an hour and realizing I
was clearly in the wrong place, I turned around and walked another hour back to
the train station.
The taxi took a long, winding way out into the industrial
suburbs, and let me off, quite early at the theatre. I (over)tipped the driver,
and he proceeded to be (overly) helpful by pointing out the entrance. I knew it
would be locked, but to satisfy the driver, I tried the door. Three young men
stood outside.
“Können wir Ihnen helfen?” one asked.
“Ich bin zu früh,” I said.
“Yeah,” he replied. “You’re really early.”
I asked if there was a place nearby where I could wait.
“Around here?” he said. “There’s nothing around here.”
The map showed a church and a park and what looked to be a
thriving neighborhood. Well, not quite. I did check out König Ludwig Park,
which more resembled a dense, woodsy area, and I did locate a lovely catholic
church, which was locked. There was a grocery store with a café, both of which
were clearly set up for drivers, not pedestrians. I got some food to eat in the
park, however, and later came back to the café for coffee and dessert.
After waiting around a bit longer, I was finally admitted to
the theatre. Who should appear onstage but the man who disparaged the local
neighborhood! Only now, he was wearing a mermaid costume. The mermaid, who I
have since learned is named Christoph Hart, provided live music for the piece.
He also seemed to take on the character of Karla, the woman whose disappearance
sets off the play. At the beginning, he is menaced by the three other
performers, who all wear fox masks. Later, when we discover what happens to
Karla, it is reenacted with the mermaid again playing Karla, being savaged by
one of the foxes.
The most noticeable thing about this production was the set.
There appeared to be a number of window panes hanging at an angle in the rear
of the stage, behind which the mermaid played his music. As the performance
went on, however, it became clear that the panes of glass were actually pieces
of ice that slowly melted and sometimes crashed to the ground during the show.
Oh, and the two other men out front with the mermaid? They turned out to be
Christopher Rüping, the director, and Jonathan Mertz, the set designer.
Funny who you can meet by showing up early.
