der die mann

Herbert Fritsch has done it again: A theatre that merges the art of abstraction and a celebration of actors. Featuring an artist of language whose love of rhythmic mindlessness is in no way inferior to Fritsch’s own: Viennese word-Dadaist Konrad Bayer, for whom language was sound, and meaning was a mere ancillary reverberation. Language divides and creates community. Fritsch’s wonderful performing brothers and sisters in spirit give each other words and take them back: a collective mumblemumble which suddenly leaves one of them behind to launch into a doleful aria of “Nobody helps me.” But that is not the final word, because here comes Karl! First one, then two, then seven Karls, “the entire Karl has gathered here”. And the final “a” in “Kaaaaarl” has a long echo and transitions straight into the rhythmically fraternizing “a and o” of a total abstraction of letters. One voice, one rhythm, one body – one blissful moment of utopia, fragile and strong.

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