Handke echoing Beckett – can you dig it?

Samuel Beckett's Krapp is coming to a close; the last tape on the reel to reel tape recorder has hit the ground; the actor is crouching at the table over his machine, for him it definitely is a male machine (© Marc Feigen Fasteau), one that helped him control his male, his artist's life; drawing a balance of his life not a lot has remained of male, of artistic success.

What is to happen next? The Salzburg Festival has announced a monologue by Peter Handke to echo, maybe to counter Beckett's great drama; would it be better to leave during the intermission, the mind of a male audience member is so caught up in thoughts and emotions that nothing really interesting can possibly follow; or can it?

Well, director Jossi Wieler may have expected just that reaction: the stage, actually something like an open cage, Krapp's recording studio revolves, screens are drawn, the stage widens and deepens, and enter Nina Kunzendorf. A slim, tall lady in beige slacks and an orange sweater, radiating – and starting her attack on Krapp. She turns out to be the nameless woman from Krapp's tape some 30 years ago.

The male machine in the audience is getting the creeps; will he, will Krapp be stomped to the ground by this woman who is delivering her 'monologue' in an almost party-like, almost relaxed tone, a speech that turns out to not just carry bitterness, aggression & resignation, but also the remains of love for a male human being. Love for a man whose every single stop in his speech was a calculated one, whose emotions were set for effect, whose hatred for life turns out to have been a birth-mark?

Handke's 'female' monologue is definitely set for effect, but listen, from a certain point the only laughs in the audience seem to rise from some older women's voices; what is happening?

Is this pathetic, or is there some wisdom, some understanding happening in between the stage and the audience? Understanding for a male existence that has had its Stunde der wahren Empfindung, has signed it, and thrown it away (see below in the blog: 'Sign')? – Yes.

An uncertain silence at the end of the show, some boos at Kunzendorf's first bow – don't let that f***ing happen!

Yours truly is not ashamed to express his emotion in very audible clapping and in bravos and bravas that are definitely set for effect so it doesn't happen; long grateful applause, some weak boos for the leading team, but finally Kunzendorf and Krapp André Jung are exiting stage in a youthful, dance-like embrace. Good.

Look, listen, learn ;–):

Bernhard Flieher in Salzburger Nachrichten on the premiere.

Peter Handke: take all of him and read; it may be pathetic at times, but Handke is always in search for truth in life and in the arts, and now, finally he may be reaching out for wisdom.

Neil Young: Helpless

Klaus Theweleit: Männerphantasien (in German: 1977). Buch der Könige. Various volumes in various years.

Thanks to Hans Höller, he knows why.