Something with Molière would already be, it could be assumed at Frank Castorf’s new production at the Berlin Volksbühne. Because she was referring to two associated templates: Mikhail Bulgakov circling to Molière’s play “The Cabal of Hypocrites” (1936) and the recently created novel “Life of Mr. Molière”. All of them Castorf actually did not remove, even though he lived freely and as usual very easy handled them.
For Bulgakov the French playwright was a welcome historical reference size to in its own situation as politically undesirable author Stalinist to make Russia thirties attentive, whose works were not published and played. In desperation, he wrote a letter in March 1930 directly to Stalin, described his problems, asked for work or leave the country. Stalin himself called him, gave him as a director’s assistant to the Art Theatre. Molière turn could enjoy a time of benevolence of King Louis XIV., Which, however, ended when he attacked the church too hard in “Tartuffe”. Artists and politicians bear their respective Omnipotenzansprüche usually limited.
The bedroom of the king moves
Frank Castorf holds now in his scenic discourse about astonishingly pretty back, enjoys rather because instead artistic barricades and independence struggles Molière trace erotic entanglements and to indicate its comedies. Since the even tragedies of Pierre Corneille aufführte, long passages from “Phèdre” are cited, for example. with irony and grace Jeanne Balibar does this exactly what they are accused of French classicism, namely stand around and recite. The long side of an oversized carriage was folded down for a platform and cranked a chandelier from the coach roof.
The early paradise bird catches the worm. Jeanne Balibar and Patrick Güldenberg in action
The stage Aleksandar Denić has this enormous vehicle still equipped with a shabby bar including Stalin poster inside and a small, poor carriage that – like a moped in a motorhome – depends on the stern. The other elements against the white cyclorama, as the video wall and the stoffbehängte bedroom of the king, are equally flexible and are in the course of more than five hours long evening talk, positioned there times – much like the actor, which was much again often merely by video camera can see in closed rooms.
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New in Frank Castorf’s aesthetic impact is certainly that it leaves time to explain its peculiar way of staging plastically: “Always you go about playing, not about declamation”, Alexander Scheer announced as Molière. That is: slip on the banana is better than text analysis or psychology. The castorfgestählte Ensemble knows what to do with a lot, does not need a long run-up to get angry and upset, as safe as extended death scenes lie hysterics. Man drinking – as in “Beware of a Holy Whore” – plenty Cuba libre, because it is also tedious quotes from the movie Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Therein the needs of a director are also discussed, but not with politicians is in trouble, but – we are in 1970 – with its funders. Alexander Scheer flicks the resulting borrowed Jeff bored – arrogantly on the sofa, and when to say what his film actually is, he squeezes the words “State-sanctioned brutality” like a cowboy from the mouth
A railcar. under high pressure
As Molière Scheer, however, is a trainset under high pressure and obsessive behind the distinctive Armande Hanna Hilsdorf ago, which is possibly his daughter, which does not care. Jeanne Balibar clings as their mother, his longtime companion and lover, with meticulous devotion and without fear of humiliation to him. The actors take turns in the course of the performance in the roles, and everyone gets his solo, whether as nonchalant Ghastly Sun King, Daniel Zillmann as impetuous Star in lovers compartment of Molière’s troupe or Lars Rudolph as insistently depraved Paris Archbishop Georg Friedrich. Nicely tucked in by all with enthusiasm so-called “harpsichord” the young Rocco my lord, while Sir Henry makes on various keyboard instruments for baroque musical accompaniment. From birth Molière tells Sophie Rois beginning with their fabulously smoky voices at one recognizes immediately even in the dark, which is why they get no light in this atmospheric fine opening. Towards the end it is then with anger and tension recite the famous letter Bulgakov to Stalin speak of interrogations and torture.
Frank Castorf does not care about the time and space to characters and narrative contexts. With its inspired polymorphic as boldly extravagant collage he overwhelmed the actors as the audience and proved itself as an enlightened, absolute artist. Although his productions may not always complete success, thanks must him but pay that he has never incorporated the Volksbühne into metropolitan tourists compliant wellness program, as would have liked the Berlin Senate and the curatorial director Chris Dercon 2017 will try. Given Molière seems a fortiori as the prototype of the free artist – only that the cost of this freedom have become nowadays no less
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