Use me!

From the world of work: "Eggs on Earth" at the sophiensaele. Actually, the topic sounds more like adult education than theatrical pleasure: "What does it mean in the budding 21st century to have, get or lose a job?" Such and similar questions have been explored by the independent group "Nico and the Navigators" for their new play "Eggs on Earth." That's certainly laudable, but even better is that the dry history of development is no longer apparent in the result at the Sophiensaele. Founded in 1996 by Nicola Hümpel at the Bauhaus Dessau, the ensemble has been at home in Berlin since 1998, and with only two works to its credit has earned an excellent reputation for visually powerful, non-verbally oriented performances in a charmingly playful, absurdly comic narrative style. "Eggs on Earth" impressively continues down this path between dance theater and living images with everyday phrases pushed to the point of madness. The stage set by Oliver Proske consists only of a magical white cube complete with doors, compartments and a walk-on roof. At the beginning, people pass through it as if on their way to work. One after the other uses a simple shoe shine machine, timidly, prudently, sloppily, energetically. Someone leaves the red sample case perhaps of a fabric collection, another takes it. The performers can be seen from the sole to the shoulder at most, but as they move about so completely without their heads, a wide horizon of individual expression opens up. Later they come out and turn out to be young, correct and, despite their fashionable wardrobe, like contemporaries who have quite some problems with their time. Hiding these, they go to enormous lengths, serious as Buster Keaton, fidgety as Jacques Tati. The five men wear muted business suits and look like branch managers at the savings bank, the two women like their neat assistants. In small, colorful scenes they play success, failure, waiting for the big chance, practicing for promotion. Or leisure time: two men lounge in light blue, s-shaped chairs and ostentatiously enjoy the sun. They roll up their trouser legs, push their shirts up to their necks, scratch each other unabashedly, and hum something jazzy together. The tie remains tied, but is laid over the shoulder. The potential hopefuls can't get out of their skin, though at least parts of it are allowed to see the light. "Can you use me for this?" is the key phrase they always follow. One woman's face contorts in anger and disgust when the boss goes to her blouse and rummages in it with a stoic face as if in a toolbox. But she perseveres and cheers at the end, carrying her chair from there like a trophy above her head - one less unemployed person. "I'm the company commander," the man says later, falling over like a board. In general, "Nico and the Navigators" like to let themselves fall, whether into nonsense - "I'd like to expand you a bit worldwide" - into bureaucratic nowhere - "Your case is being processed" - or simply to the ground. They've mastered the art of serious comedy and well-tempered distance from their characters. "Eggs on Earth" consists of surreally revealing observations, condensed and spun with high art. The performance is carried by an unforced musical collage between tango, Janis Joplin and Hammond organ mishmash. The basic color of the production is blue, the basic mood is dreamy melancholy. So apart is a life "in the shadow of self-sacrifice" according to the motto "I want to go up" probably only to be had on stage.