Sophiensaele. Nico and the Navigators. “Kain, Wenn & Aber”

The premiere date was exquisitely chosen: St. Nicholas Eve for Nico and the Navigators. And indeed, a sock also appears in the play of the theater group, which has long been cult and now announces, however, that this is for the time being the last in a series of ensemble productions before they will set out "for new artistic shores". A premiere with a tear in the eye. Said sock is not filled with sweets here, of course, but one of the actors stuffs it into his mouth. If the ensemble around Nicola Hümpel, which was founded only five years ago at the Bauhaus Dessau, now sets a caesura, this seems consistent at first glance, because recently one thought to notice signs of fatigue, the productions showed empty spaces. And now comes this new production, and it is the most beautiful, the finest in a long time. Of course, one should not be misled by the title. "Kain, WEnn & Aber" is a funny play on words, but the biblical Cain does not come here with a mutant and a third brother. At the beginning is the sentence "The first decision is: to myself," and a little later the concept of "destiny" is kneaded through in a chain pun: "who actually determines here, who determines?" The age-old question of the extent to which man is free to take his destiny into his own hands, or whether it does not rather hold him tightly in its fist, this question is in the room throughout the evening in the many scenes that emerge from improvisations. But as is the case with this group, it does not make so many words, it never becomes instructive, analyzing, let alone philosophical or religious in principle. Just the way the seven players, three women, four men (all with slightly slanted hairstyles, by the way), - as they individually step in front of the audience and make a silent facial play with them, is exceedingly charming. There are indeed scenes in which trace elements of parental or social upbringing can be discerned, attempts to fix the individual to a certain direction in life. There are self-statements ("Have you ever disappointed anyone?" is the question, and the short answer simply "yes"), or crazy astrological banal promises. And a scene in which the individual is supposed to give up everything, the coat, the credit card, the body jewelry. And there is the perplexity in the face of globalized chickens and before the ups and downs of the Dax on the stock exchange. The determination of this scene collage itself, however, obeys completely the law of a weightless surrealism. This time no vacuum cleaner is taken for a walk, no chicken egg experiences flights of fancy on the air cushion of a household appliance. All sens and nonsense has become looser, lighter this time. Played again with enigmatic deceleration. Apart from moments like the one where one man literally maltreats another man's hair with his hands and feet, as no hairdresser would be able to do in Berlin, Ancona or Moscow, where of course guest performances have long since been booked. There is a sentence to remember in the shapely room, whose box walls are shifting: "The ability to comprehend intellectual connections is now increasing drastically". We already notice, we are to be navigated again and again on the glue. But this as sensitively as crazy, as madly as lovingly. And the actors thereby figure as in a constantly changing absurd tableau. That is the most beautiful destiny of theater, to be allowed to ask for the meaning, but to be cheated of the answer as amusingly, as cryptically, as playfully, as delightfully silly as here.

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