A composer acquaintance of mine passed away recently. His younger sister was at his bedside in the hospital and she and her husband, also a composer, then took it upon themselves to put the finishing touches to his last and unfinished composition, which she also sang. At the funeral, they handed out a CD with both this song and other finished ones. The CD has been on my office desk for a few weeks now and I don’t know when I’ll be able to listen to it. It’s a piece of art I don’t want to enjoy, at least not yet.
Two years ago, when Markus & Markus, German political theatre collective, made up of performers Markus Schafer and Markus Wenzel, dramaturg and manager Lara-Joy Hamann, designer Manuela Pirozzi and video artist Katarina Eckold, were conducting research for “Ibsen: Ghosts” the second instalment of their contemporary adaptation trilogy of Henrik Ibsen’s plays, they were told about Margot, an 81-year-old woman living alone in Dusseldorf. With no relatives to worry about, she was planning euthanasia and was willing to have them document the last month of her life. The young theatre makers did just that and also drove her to Basel, Switzerland where euthanasia is legal, and stayed with her until the end.
Last year, they premiered the documentary theatre work “Ibsen: Ghosts” in Germany and have since been invited to stage it at many festivals in Europe. Last weekend at the School of the Arts (SOTA) studio as part of the closing weekend of The OPEN, a pre-festival of ideas for the Singapore International Festival of Arts (SIFA), the Asian premiere offer audiences a uniquely harrowing |experience.
The artists walked a thin moral line here. In the documentary film, Margot enjoyed their company so much that she said if they kept coming to visit her she might change her mind. Had that been the case, then of course we wouldn’t have watched “Ibsen: Ghosts”. In the original play, a masterpiece of naturalistic drama from the last quarter of the 19th century, Mrs. Alving was faced with the dilemma of whether or not to put an end to the life of her son Oswold who was suffering from a terminal disease. Both Margot and the accompanying theatre makers, by contrast, were more determined in what they set out to do, notwithstanding some hesitation. Many of us here in Asia, because we live in societies that are based on the institution of family, can better relate to Alving’s situation and images of relatives discussing this matter with doctors at hospitals are not uncommon. Neither is the sight of doctors who need to unplug life support apparatuses in order to make available the bed for those who still have a chance to live. Of course, both these cases are recorded as natural death.
Film excerpts showed Margot’s last month in Dusseldorf – in a park, at a supermarket, at her neighbours’, in her living room and at her dining table, in addition to her last moments of life, when Schafer and Wenzel sat among the audience, watching her last breath. Eckold, probably wisely, decided to the mute the sound a few moments before. These excerpts were juxtaposed with the two performers’ re-enactment of their time with Margot using many of the props from the old lady’s former apartment, and performance of related texts. The duo aimed for imperfection in their acting, but the “try not to act” mode, actually more artful and less realistic, was in a stark contrast to the reality of the film, and at many moments I found myself wishing for the next chapter of the film to start.
How we respond to death and loss varies from one religion, culture and country to another. And our background plays an important part in our judgement, which is partly why I’ve been expressing my strong reactions to both the content and form of this documentary play for more than a week now. I’ve been so outspoken that many friends wanted to watch it, and that’s how contemporary theatre, as democratic as it is, should also be – inciting debate, discussion and disagreement among the audience.
And it’s also a very good example of what any international performing arts festival should do – select a performance that doesn’t spoon feed the audience with the familiar in their comfort zone, but always challenges their morals.
When I met with the German company an afternoon after watching their work, one member asked me, “Do you know Ibsen?” Evidently, it’s their first time performing outside Europe and I should have told them that I watched a Thai translation of Ibsen’s “Ghosts” before they were even born.
Plenty of potential
The Singapore International Festival of Arts (SIFA) 2016 runs from August 11 to September 17 at various venues. Admission prices range from free to SGD 80 (20percent discount for students and seniors). For reservations and more details, visit www.SIFA.sg.
This source first appeared on The Nation Life.