Bitef

EDINBURŠKI FESTIVAL: Došao sam do к uće ali nisam ušao Novo pozorišno delo Hajnera Gebelsa, prvo je njegovo delo nastalo u Edinburgu nakon 1997, ali je neposrednije i introspektivnije od svih ranijih. Oni koji očekuju vizuelne trikove i zamamnu lepotu ostvarenja kao što su Hashirigaki i Eraritjaritjaka, biće razočarani. Ono što će dobiti u delu zamišljenom za četvoricu pevača Hilijard ansambla je iznenađujuće lično istraživanje razočaranja čoveka srednjeg doba i straha od smrtnosti, koje stvara vlastiti miran poetski, gotovo oproštajni ton. Gebels to naziva „uprizorenim koncertom u tri slike", pri сети je svaki prizor izgrađen oko drugog teksta, na engleskom jeziku. Alfred Prafrok je polazište, a poslednje se prikazuje kasno Beketovo prozno delo Worstward Но. Središnja slika objedinjuje mahom govorni pasaž Morisa Blanšoa i gotovo živahnu pevanu kodu Franca Kafke. Gebels i njegov scenograf Klaus Grinberg za svaki prizor stvaraju sliku produženog intenziteta i savršeno opaženog detalja. Hilijardovci postaju monohromni pogrebnici Eliotove pesme, svlače je i preudešavaju kao negativ, kad sve što je сто postaje belo i obrnuto. Za Blanšoa i Kafku, tu je fasada kuće u predgrađu, noću, sa pevačima koje vidimo na raznim prozorima ili dok rade u garaži, u nokturnu tihog očaja. Poslednji prizor okuplja svu četvoricu и hotelskoj sobi gde gledaju niz nečijih slika (Gebelsovih možda?) iz detinjstva. Deluje tanušno, ali tokom devedeset minuta stvara se neverovatno moćna atmosfera - nostalgijje pomešane sa kajanjem, ргоpuštenim prilikama, izbegnutim izazovima. Gebelsova muzika je takođe škrta, koristi se samo kad je apsolutno bitna da bi istakla raspoloženje и Eliotovoj pesmi - prekrasan о cappella ambijent, sa svakim naglaskom i nijansom savršeno uhvaćenim - ili da bi isporučila Beketove reči kao metrički psalm, sa glasovima sve vreme u ritmičkom jednoglasju. Hilijardovci to rade bez greške; kao i u čitavoj predstavi, nijedan detalj nije na pogrešnom mestu. Endru Klemens

EDINBURGH FESTIVAL: / Went to the House But Did Not Enter Heiner Goebbels' new theatre piece, the seen in Edinburgh since 1997 but the direct, and more introspective, than any that have come before. Those expecting the visual sleight of hand and beguiling beauty of works such as Hashirigaki and Eraritjaritjaka will be disappointed. But what they will get, in this piece conceived for the four singers of the Hilliard Ensemble, is a surprisingly personal exploration of the disappointments of middle age and fear of mortality that has its own guietly poetic, almost valedictory effect. Goebbels calls it a "staged concert in three tableaux", with each scene built around a different text in English. The Alfred Prufrock as its starting point, and the last sets Beckett's late prose piece, Worstward Ho. The central panel brings together a mostly spoken passage by Maurice Bla’nchot with Franz Kafka's an almost jaunty sung coda. For each panel, Goebbels and his designer, Klaus Grünberg, create a picture of lingering intensity and perfectly observed detail. The Hilliards become monochrome undertakers for Eliot's poem, strip- refurnishing it as a photo negative, with everything black becoming white and vice versa. For the Blanchot and Kafka there is a facade of a suburban house at night, with the singers seen at different windows, or working in their garage, in a nocturne of guiet desperation. The last tableau brings the four together in a hotel room, watching a slide show of images of someone's (perhaps Goebbels' own?) childhood. It seems slender, but over the course of 90 minutes an immensely powerful atmosphere is created - of nostalgia mingled with regret, of opportunities missed, challenges ducked. Goebbels’ music is spare, too, used only when absolutely essential, whether to heighten the mood of Eliot's great poem - a beautiful, a cappella setting, with every verbal stress and nuance perfectly caught- or to deliver Beckett's words like a metrical psalm, the voices in rhythmic unison throughout. The Hilliards bring it off immaculately: as with the whole show, there's not a detail misplaced. Andrew Z.ements

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