Cross-roads or the splits

Nico & the Navigators are presenting a new production at the Sophiensaele Steps, a woman, a chair. She places herself behind it and looks at us steadily. The hands are placed on the chair-back. It seems as if the woman presents herself. She turns, disappears in the dark, appears again in half the distance, with her back turned toward us. Her view is a round horizon, strong, invincible. But the colours, which will be reflected on it in the course of the evening, will let appear the people in front of it in an ever changing light.Seven times this scene takes place, always similar, never identical. Then the three women and the four men of "Nico and the Navigators" have entered the stage completely for the test arrangement "Kain, Wenn und Aber". The subject: Decisions. Up to this point we have already seen seven of them. A woman does stick a man to herself. He is resisting, breaks free, can’t balance himself and falls with impetus on another one who was by accident lying around. Now he is sticking to the next. Someone is dressing the hair on another one but gets desperate for he can’t determine where the parting belongs. “Just do have a vision” someone is shouting, kicks her neighbour in the butt and faints. Two are folding little ships out of paper, take them to their lips like duck peckers and kiss each other. “My dilemma is at risk” says someone in the emptiness, without consequence. Each one is running according to a sketch map or to a city map, the nose hung over the paper as if it were a manual for one self. One could walk in a few directions at the same time, but still every straddling, even ones with gruelling effort, ends in the splits. After each performance of this play one would like to rename the ‘way of life’ in ‘cross-roads’.The evening is a result of improvisation. It is based on strictly directed fantasy of seven kinds, on want of words, and on diversity of bodies. The scenes –added with several pieces of music delicately – flare up and die down, sorted and arranged by director Nicola Hümpel with firm grip. As concrete as necessary, as open as possible the stories are a charming, almost reserved invitation for compassion and understanding. Always there is happening more than one is able to see, but never so much that one would miss the connection. After adjusting ones perception to the whole view, the stage design of Oliver Proske, something between an interior view on a silo and a circus arena, unfolds as a graceful world. In cool light costumes the actors are working themselves close to becoming clowns: Far away of every irony they are pursuing their aims with earnestness and courage. Arising is a melancholic humour, including the necessary laughter. Close to the end they are peacefully sitting in the circus ring, calling themselves by first names and asking questions to each other: Have you used all powers and abilities you have? Do you think that there are still many chances waiting for you? Have you used all your chances? The answers are not coming yet. Between audience and stage there are hundred silences to hear. The answers are finally coming. They are short. And there are only two: Yes and No. Nevertheless they are sounding like novels.

<< Back to press overview