Wednesday, September 5, 2018

DRAAMA Festival Day 2: Brecht and Brecht

Some down-time for your correspondent today, as the two performances were so heavy on information that I could not - even with very well-executed live translation - glean a good reading of either. Both were undoubtedly 'good' performances, I was either too exhausted from the day before, or the performances themselves simply required too much of a mental leap for me. I will do my best to sketch out the directions below.

Meanwhile, the festival ticks on. It seems I've join a tight crew: each year, a delegation from Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia visit the national festival of one of the three countries. This year, it's Estonia's turn, so I'm accompanied by 2 national delegations from the institutions of their respective countries. For many, it's not their first time doing this - in one case, a representative has been coming here for 12 of the 18 years of the festival's existence.

All of which means I am very much an outsider, which of course makes me feel a lot more comfortable. Perfect dialectics there.

Tuesday was a day of physical journey if not mental, containing tours to the edge of Tartu and then, remarkably, to the north of the country by train.

Sirk's Estonia

The first journey of the day took us out to Estonia's impressive National Museum, built on the grounds of the former Soviet bombing airfield called Raadi. Keen readers will notice that I mentioned this in the first post - it was one place that I planned to visit when I was here. (The other was a far-fetched aspiration to visit Lahemaa National Park, which, although I didn't quite get there yesterday, I came surprisingly close in the second performance). So, I suppose, thanks to DRAAMA festival for organising my Estonian bucket list.

Sirk's Estonia begins with a site-specific piece, the foyer of the museum used to host a group of actors (Labyrinth Theatre Group G9) walking slowly towards the doorway, which slowly fills with smoke. As they walk, they strip off clothes, eventually disappearing into the smoke. I didn't make much of this - especially since the entire second half is a proscenium-arch Brechtian performance with apparently no connection to the opening. Further, some logistics were required to subsequently equip the (many) audience members requiring audio translation, check everyone's tickets, and physically relocate them to the theatre in the museum's basement. Some of these issues are undoubtedly connected with the transfer of the piece - which originally existed in the Estonian National Library in Tallinn, and contained a slightly different prefix.
 
The staging of the play is a Brechtian comedy  by VAT Theatre, which presents an alternative history of Estonia in the 1930s. The play is set in a present-day celebration of Estonian director (fictional) Ernst Meel, which has initiated a play written by a famous playwright (Ago Soots). However, a young upstart writer (Meelis Pödersoo) proposes an alternative play: one centred on the life of fascist revolutionary leader Artur Sirks (also played by Pödersoo) and his attempts to overthrow the Estonian government with the right-wing Vaps movement.

Photo: Siim Vahur

It's an approach that lets the writers (Aare Toikka and Mihkel Seeder) talk about 1930s Estonia, while's still reflecting from today's perspective. The Brechtian trimmings offer an access point to history that's educational, as does the comedic style. There are some nice lines, dripping with so much sarcasm that they could have come from the mouth of Brecht ("It's not a comedy, it's a historical drama" or "The Great Show is the foundation of Estonian national culture") as well as some which probably wouldn't ("Are there any female characters?"). The addition of the Woman's Choir of the National Library of Estonia, who assemble at the back of the theatre and sing responses to the action (sometimes in sweet harmony, and sometimes atonally), completes this play's credentials as the most Brechtian thing that has ever Brechted. 

A conspiracy theory, a plot to sink the Estonian Krone in response to a dip in the British Pound, and some blackmail follow. The conflict between national interest and personal profit is a central theme (as relevant as ever today), as the characters weave in and out of the theatre and meta-theatre. I just wish I had a bit more background about Estonian history, or perhaps a little more attention to decipher the multiple streams of language that were happening. Back to the history books for me, I guess.

BB at Night

Stepping onto the train to Tallinn armed with nothing but a theatre ticket and a script is a harrowing experience for someone who has fare-evaded with the best of them. Indeed, the inspector pulled a suitably unimpressed face in response to my story as guiltily I presented my ticket to a show in place of a train ticket, despite the fact that there were some 40 others on the same train with me, doing exactly the same thing (inspectors live for such moments, I have found). Nevertheless, the theatre proved adequate defence for me this time (perhaps she was secretly a theatre fan) and I arrived at the platform at Tapa, in the north of the country, two hours later.

Thinking this remarkable as I understood my geographic location, I was surprised to be welcomed by 100 spectators from the other side of the platform, each waving and cheering in formation, and screaming what I assume is an Estonian greeting. It's the beginning of a magical ride of BB at Night, a promenade performance loosely based on Brecht at Night, a novel by Estonian writer Mati Unt, itself based on dramatist Berthold Brecht's exile in Finland during World War 2, at the home of Finnish-estonian writer Hella Woulijoki.

Upon arrival at Tapa train station, we are immediately accosted by a film crew, who usher us into position for the first shot (a wave to greet a coming commander). The filming conceit is followed for some time, as we shout "Maha!" ("out!") at the commander as he appears in the upstairs window of his headquarters. Then it's dinner-time, and we are served a soup of borscht be attendants dressed in military uniform.

It gets serious in the second section, which is essentailly a dramatisation of the events of the 1940 Soviet coup d'etat in Estonia, blended with events from Brecht's life. It was difficult to follow, my translation headphones constantly cutting  out or offering static in the place of verbal language, and there being a struggle for space in some of the locations, given the 200-strong audience. We are led through different sections of the old train station, as the characters negotiate the differing  principles of governance ("Somebody must dominate - who, if not human?), military philosophy ("only the soldier costs nothing"), and metaphors of servitude ("Human is not human - human is a parrot or sheep"). Hitler and Stalin appear, but the main narrative thread follows the exile of Brecht, continuing from the audio-drama offered to us for our train ride.


Photo: Gabriela Liivamägi

There's a heavy Russian flavour that surpasses the borscht, with Shostakovich's ironic Jazz Suites making an appearance, only to be supplanted by the American favourites Big Noise from Winnetka and finally Bing Crosby's White Christmas. I was a little overwhelmed by the amount of production involved from directors Ivar Põllu and Mart Koldits: which included an audio drama, a promenade performance, and a fresh meal for 200 spectators, as well as extensive use of technology (every one of the spectators had a set of wireless headphones) and a small, young, hopefully well-paid, workforce. Just one of these elements would have served as an adequate point of focus - as it was, many delegates were exhausted from information overload (this also being our second show of the day).

However, the attempt to focus on Brecht's exile to distill events of the 1940s is a undoubtedly a great entry-point to the 1940s, offering permission to talk about otherwise taboo subjects, paramount to the formation of Estonian national identity, particularly in relation to the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany. For all of the complex material, some great performances are extracted, from the radio play, to the filming, to the promenade performance. Everything works just fine - but complex material doesn't necessarily mean that a corporation should be required to create a show. In this sense, the offering from Von Krahl Theatre and Tartu New Theatre could have been stripped-back and achieved the same outcome, or even perhaps found something different in the material.

As it is, it's a once-in-a-lifetime theatrical experience replicating those design-heavy productions of the UK's Punchdrunk, holding a mirror to Estonian national formation in the 1940s, and this strange encounter with one of the world's foremost dramatists.

Sirk's Estonia

Concept: Indrek Hargla and Aare Toikka
General authors:     Aare Toikka, Mihkel Seeder and G9 


Site-specific performance - 'Wandering' (Rännak)    
Author-directors and performers: Adele Thele Rob, Triin Aas, Kristo Kruusman, Kristel Maamägi, Henry Griin, Mari Mägi, Liis Viira, Keili Retter, Andra Aaloe, Juhan Vihterpal, Markus Robam, Jonathan Jürgenson, etc.


Stage Performance:
Written by: Aare Toikka and Mihkel Seeder
Director: Aare Toikka
Artists: Henry Griin and Aare Toikka
Lighting design: Sander Põllu
Costume designer: Keili Retter
Musical designer: Ardo Ran Varres
Choreographer: Marge Ehrenbusch
Choir: National Library Women's Choir (conductor Anneli Surva)
Actors: Katrin Saukas, Elina Reinold, Meelis Põdersoo, Tanel Saar, Margo Teder, Ago Soots. 


--
BB At Night

On stage
Robert Annus (Estonian Drama Theater)
Henrik Kalmut
Tõnis Niinemets
Kristel Liismend
Maarja Mitt
Maarja Jakobson

Directors
Ivar Põllu and Mart Koldits

Dramaturge and musical designer
Ivar Põllu

Artist
Kristiina Põllu

Light artist
Rene Liivamägi

Video artist
Mikk-Mait Kivi


(and many others).

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