Nico and the Navigators: ‘The whole Truth about Lies’

The internationally acclaimed ensemble Nico and the Navigators once again present a masterful play with the senses. In their new production, they interweave illusion, irony and postmodern narrative art to create a Gesamtkunstwerk that explores the boundaries of deception and truth. Between breathtaking (dance) acrobatics, sound collages and philosophical dialogues, the troupe makes the audience laugh, marvel - and pause for a moment. But where does the pretence end and the lie begin? An unforgettable evening that will leave the audience enthralled and thought-provoking.

I certainly no longer need to introduce the ensemble Nico and the Navigators, founded in 1998 by Nicola Hümpel and Oliver Proske. It has long been touring internationally, has been nominated several times for important (music) theatre awards, received the Georg Tabori Prize; Nicola Hümpel herself won the Konrad Wolf Prize of the Berlin Academy of the Arts in 2016. But this is theatre.

The fact that Proske and Hümpel keep their eyes and ears focussed on the often immediate present suits him. At the same time, however, they keep an eye on what it feeds on - which artistically leads to a strong syncretism that, like Alfred Schnittke's music, could be called ‘polystylistic’. It owes as much to postmodern narratives as it does to the fun of the audience, to entertainment. The, shall we say, ‘pedagogical’ goal may be realisation, but the audience is constantly fed - not least through virtual techniques that are handled with great playfulness.

People should first of all be amazed, preferably even laugh, even (or especially) when there are conspicuous moments of a brief flinch before realisation - tenths of a second of amazement. ‘And Jonas isn't your son either, by the way,’ the woman reveals to the man. To which he responds dryly: ‘I know, I had a vasactomy.’ The effective trick is that instead of the woman, it is we who feel the small shock; accordingly, the laughter is only offset. Meanwhile she herself, the woman, continues unaffected: ‘Your deep voice is so lulling - an endless sermon.’

Such spoken theatre parts are repeatedly inserted between the action scenes, especially the dance scenes, which bring all too heavy burdens of meaning back into suspension and, with the sound and image collages, realise a continuum that has something to do with Richard Wagner's concept of the Gesamtkunstwerk. The transcendence he strives for, however, is ironically broken throughout; postmodernism is too cool to allow pathos, even if the sensual truth is retained even when, as happens almost throughout, the mechanics of illusion are also demonstrated. The illusory character isn't spoilt by this - our perceptual apparatus (appearance) falls for it.

It sweeps us away completely. Nevertheless, the real art, as distinct from (dance) acrobatics, is to be found in the musical pieces. Basically, they are the heartbeat of every performance, especially where they tear, as it were, or are not disturbed by lecture-like recitations (or dialogues as above), but are repeatedly pulled down to the ground of reality, becoming material, as it were. And thus political.

Here, however, in this new production by the ‘Navigators’ - a venue could not be more fitting for their aesthetic than Berlin's Radialsystem (but its existence → is now also under threat) ... - this time the troupe thematises itself, so to speak: ‘The whole Truth about Lies’ intersects the appearance of any theatre with the concept of lies as a false assertion strategically directed towards a goal. This is not without absurdity insofar as an AI-generated semi-philosophical text, for example, is not a ‘lie’ even if it completely collapses when it is scrutinised a little.

After all, there is no intention; such an intention presupposes consciousness, which machines and their algorithms hardly possess. AI only collects data and weights it according to quantities. Equally, erroneous statements are not lies; case law speaks of ‘good faith’: having acted in good faith excludes fraud. In this respect alone, ‘appearance’ should be separated from ‘lies’ even where their contours overlap.

The play of the troupe does not separate it. Ultimately, it is up to us if we believe the mirror, which is tilted diagonally across the entire width of the stage: In the air, someone is balancing on a white pole, upright, not infrequently in danger of losing their balance; and we see people flying, this too in the mirror. In fact, what we see at the same time is someone lying on the ground performing perfectly rehearsed movements. And the pole in the mirror is nothing other than the strip of toilet paper rolled out in a straight line on the floor.

So we know and yet we don't know. And realise that we wanted to believe the eyes. But only later do we begin to think: are we in need of deception? We are already drawn into the heart of art, which is a true lie - the mentir-vrai of Aragon.

But this is precisely what the Navigators want to ‘question’, i.e. politically criticise. This is what Oliver Proske writes in the programme booklet:

However, the renaming of a familiar illusion as a futuristic technology also illustrates the readiness with which the surface is taken for the depth, the image for the original. In such a world, the lie becomes the truth because it appears more convenient, more accessible and more spectacular. This lie is not harmless; it reflects a society that is increasingly prepared to take surface for substance, appearance for essence (...)

Which is wrong. Lies do not become truth, they are only taken for it. That is a difference, and one wonders very much whether this has ever been different. Doesn't that also seem to be the case? Of course, the instruments of manipulation - including technical ones thanks to AI - have increased. But that is once again quantity, not essence. Nevertheless, the programme booklet goes one better with a travesty of the Christian creed (the original wording of which began the entire performance)

I believe in the lie

The Almighty

The driving force of people on earth

(Are there any elsewhere?)

And in progress

Her natural companion, our star,

Received through insatiable greed,

(...)

Ascended into the future,

He sits at the right hand of the lie,

The almighty mother;

(...)

I believe in false promises, 

The unstoppable growth,

(...)

Slander of the good and eternal evil.

Amen.

Yes, quite terrible, this text; if I had read it before the performance, I would not have sat in the audience. But then I would have missed the grandiose aspect of this evening - namely that the troupe's new piece is completely different from what this agitational political kitsch makes one fear; despite all the virtuosity, especially of the expressive dance (stunning: Yui Kawaguchi) and the instrumentation, I constantly had the feeling that I was moving on the most fragile ground: for example, the recitation form - recitative I would like to call it - is above all one of constant questioning of oneself and others.

Nothing is fixed, little is known for certain. We move through the same, only more elegant, continuum of uncertainties as in our everyday reality. The difference - a striking one, however - is that we enjoy it here. This is how the Navigators turn uncertainties into possibilities, a prerequisite for freedom. That's exactly what almost redeemed us that evening, or at least made it easier. And even if the question still bothered me for days afterwards (who didn't gulp?):

What now? Does ‘input’ now apply instead of ‘inspiration’?

Has Nico and the Navigators not only given us an evening of great pleasure, but a kind of hope - regardless of whether it is an illusion again?

It begins as a delicate network of shoots. Just a moment ago, Annedore Kleist's face was visible. In a large-scale projection, she explains that every person tells 200 lies a day. At least, that is the common belief. As the actress speaks, the screen continues to grow. The harmless mycelium from the beginning has become an ulcer, a toxic fungus that covers everything like an opaque film.

This is just one of many visual metaphors that Nico and the Navigators have devised for their new production to explore a phenomenon that seems to be increasingly encroaching on our everyday lives: lies and their modern counterparts, fake news. Giving the piece the title ‘The Whole Truth About Lies’ already highlights an important characteristic of lying, namely the absoluteness of the assertion, which, on closer inspection, can collapse just as quickly.

In typical Nico and the Navigators style, the ensemble led by Nicola Hümpel and Oliver Proske interweaves music, text and dance into a multi-layered collage that – perhaps even more than usual – seeks to play with the illusory power of the theatrical surface. AI image generators are used to boost the visual sleight of hand. In a madcap ride, the images morph through a panopticon of alienation. Naturally, the themes of social media power and mass manipulation are also explored. Who would be surprised to see figures such as Trump, Putin and Marine Le Pen emerge from this carousel of characters? Probably no one.

From small untruths in private life to big lies on the political stage, the subject of lying inherently has a lot of negative potential. The fact that the evening still has a striking number of poetic moments is mainly due to an old illusion technique that Nico and the Navigators have unearthed: ‘Pepper's Ghost’. Developed around 1860 by British innovator John Henry Pepper, a semi-transparent, tilted mirror creates astonishing stage effects. When the performers lie on the floor and move, the vertical projection makes it look as if they are floating or flying through the air. It's a dramaturgical trick that also holds up a mirror to the audience: we see ‘the lie’ and yet succumb to its visual appeal.

Musically, too, the evening delves deep into the classical and contemporary repertoire for the soundtrack to deceiving and being deceived: the arc spans from Handel's baroque invocation of guardian angels to Chopin's ‘Funeral March Sonata,’ Schumann songs à la ‘Ich grolle nicht’ to ‘Little Lies’ by Fleetwood Mac and ‘Gimme Some Truth’ by John Lennon.

Will we go home with ‘The Whole Truth about Lies’? Perhaps not, but we will certainly have plenty of food for thought. 

Link to the interview

What is the whole truth about lies? Where can it be found, and what emerges when it is uncovered? In the age of Artificial Intelligence and social networks, those searching for the truth about lies often end up in paradoxes — or in the theater.

With "The whole Truth about Lies", the performance collective NICO AND THE NAVIGATORS explores the unpredictable power of deception. In this Berlin world premiere, they dive into the realm of music theater. Today, we speak with Nicola Hümpel, artistic director of Nico and the Navigators, at studioeins in Bikini Berlin.

Elstermann: “The Whole Truth About Lies” is a new piece — or maybe a performance? We’ll get to clarify that soon. The premiere is next Thursday at Radialsystem, and I’m delighted to welcome the woman who not only brought this work to life but has created many boundary-defying projects, the kind you can’t quite label — is it a play? A performance? Perhaps even a discursive event? Please welcome: Nicola Hümpel from Nico and the Navigators.

Before we discuss your latest work, let’s give listeners a bit of context. Some time ago, I remember seeing huge posters and wondering: Can you actually vote for Fabian Hinrichs now? Is he running for something? I even asked him, but I missed it — what was that project about? That was yours too, wasn’t it?

Hümpel: Yes, even his plumber thought he was a real candidate. That was a highly political evening we created at the Federal Press Conference building, marking its 100th anniversary. It completely took off, and we were thrilled. The text by constitutional lawyer Maximilian Steinbeiß really hit the zeitgeist. And just one day after the Erfurt incident, audiences were practically going wild — the boundary between what we were performing and what was actually happening in real life blurred so intensely, it was surreal.

Elstermann: Sadly, I missed it — but you told me I can still watch it.

Hümpel: Yes, you all can — it’s available on ARTE Mediathek. Due to high demand, it’s now subtitled in six languages: Polish, Italian, English, German, French, and Spanish.

Elstermann: That’s a great tip — and perhaps a perfect prelude to your next project. It sounds like there's a similar blurring of boundaries between real politics and art? What’s it like now at Radialsystem?

Hümpel: It’s completely different. We asked ourselves whether we should continue on that political path — and maybe we will. But this time, we’re going back to our other roots: poetic music theater. We're dealing with themes like fake news, self-deception, external manipulation, and what AI is doing to us — in short, everything that introduces falsehood into our lives. But this time, we approach it very personally. We go from global political and religious conflicts into the intimate private sphere. And I think it's become a heartwarming evening, one that gives hope, because the group works together with such tenderness and intensity — between dance, singing, and text. Plus this insane AI technology and Oliver Proske’s incredible stage design, where we literally see how we’re being tricked: people appear to fly even though they’re lying on the ground. We show how it’s done — and yet we still fall for the illusion. For me, that’s a metaphor for what we let society do to us.

Elstermann: So if I understand you correctly, when scaled down to the private or intimate realm, we lie all the time. Studies say people lie about 20 times a day…

Hümpel: 200 times.

Elstermann: Really? That much? We don’t even talk that often in a day!

Hümpel: Those 200 include omissions — which we’re seeing in real-world politics. It’s not just about direct lies, but also about withholding truths. Like saying, “I didn’t know that” instead of “I did know, but I’m not admitting it.” That kind of ambiguity creates room for manipulation.

Elstermann: To be fair, I think many of these lies are what we might call forgivable sins — if we said everything we thought, it would be unbearable. Lies also grease the wheels of social interaction. But your work isn’t about those small lies — it’s about the larger structures of deception. The frameworks politicians use to serve us falsehoods every day.

Hümpel: Exactly. We even tried an experiment: What happens if we are brutally honest with each other? Saying things like: “You look awful,” or “You smell.” It’s very uncomfortable. And no one wants that. There’s even a scene about it in the show. We also included classical music — works dealing with conspiracy and lies. Theater, as we know from Shakespeare, invites audiences into lies on purpose. That’s the pact. Theater is a consensual lie. And in this performance, we surrender to false love songs sung in artificial voices. It's a beautiful way to live — and raises the question: does lying help us survive?

Elstermann: That’s beautifully put. Art is a beautiful lie — but it’s one we’ve agreed to. We know it’s not “true,” but it enriches us. The other lies — the ones told by people in power — are far more dangerous. And they’ve become more and more absurd.

Hümpel: Yes, and we’re copying more and more of it. What scares me is how little courage we have to be ourselves — and how easily we’re swept up into going along.

Elstermann: Yes, it’s a parallel reality. Like when Trump said, “Germany doesn’t have enough wind, that’s why wind turbines are a complete failure, and that’s why Angela Merkel resigned.” That’s a real quote from Trump. He just says it — and we’re no longer even shocked. From December 12 to 15, Nico and the Navigators will perform their new piece at Radialsystem. Is “piece” the right word? Or is it more of a “performance”?

Hümpel: You can call it a piece.

Elstermann: Alright then — The Whole Truth About Lies. We've covered a lot, but I still haven’t understood everything — for example, let’s talk briefly about AI. You use it on stage. In what sense is that a lie? I mean, we know it’s AI.

Hümpel: It generates things live on stage. A dancer moves, and is transformed into figures like Putin, Trump, or Elon Musk — we don’t know exactly what will happen beforehand. It changes every time. It can be brilliant or not quite work — it’s unpredictable. But we’re showing how it’s done, showing what’s possible. We all know that politicians can now be made to “speak” fake speeches online. That reality gave us serious doubts during our research. As artists, we’re asking: are we making ourselves obsolete? You feed something in, and out comes something incredibly good. We even had AI generate a song in the style of Leonard Cohen about lies. We kept feeding it prompts: “Make it more drastic, more philosophical, sharper…” It kept improving. We added chords, and had someone with a stunning Cohen voice sing it — and it was damn good. But the group refused to use it. They said: no. We can’t. It’s not right.

Elstermann: Because they felt replaced. And I think journalism will face the same. In a few years, maybe news anchors will be replaced by AI — even presenters. And maybe they’ll be better than us.

Hümpel: I once fed the AI a prompt saying: “I’m depressed — because of you. Write me something.” It produced such an astonishingly good text, I gave it to my dramaturge and said, “Look what I found.” I didn’t say it came from AI. And he said, “This is incredible. Where did you get it?” I had to tell him. He didn’t think it was funny.

Elstermann: Well, I can give some reassurance. My colleague Karkowski once asked ChatGPT: “What should I ask Knut Elstermann in an interview?” The questions were all okay — nothing wrong — but they lacked inspiration. It felt like what a trainee might prepare. There was no warmth, no humor. So, yes — there’s still a difference. But we have to talk more about this. Maybe not for long, but for now, humans still bring something unique. Maybe the real question is: will humans adapt to AI?

Hümpel: Exactly.

Elstermann: Or maybe we can use it as a framework and then bring in warmth, the human touch. Let’s try to remain a bit optimistic. But in politics — that’s where I lose hope. It’s not even new. Goebbels once said: “The bigger the lie, the more likely it is to be believed.” Are we back there? Or have we even moved to a new level?

Hümpel: Or like Trump said: “Repeat a lie long enough, and people will believe it.” And that’s become mainstream — even democratic parties now use this as a strategy. How can we be expected to trust them when they abuse our trust? This could be our chance to really restore democracy — and if we fail, it might be our last.

Elstermann: Nicola, before we finish: How should I imagine this evening? You’ve talked about dancers, AI, people flying when they’re not flying… What kind of night is this?

Hümpel: It’s a typically “navigator-esque” collage — with dance, classical music, arias, pop songs, a breakdancer. A mix from Cohen to Baroque, a pastiche shaped by our research into the topic. Out of that, something emerged — a narrative that we couldn’t have planned. In rehearsal, it all came together in ways that still astonish us. You sit there and wonder: who came up with this?

Elstermann: Nicola, I’ll say this openly — I believe you. I have the feeling this will be a very special, beautiful, and timely evening. You might’ve been better off listing what’s not in the piece — that would’ve been easier! It’s clearly a wild mix, and audiences can experience it from December 12 to 15.

Hümpel: And for those who can’t get tickets — we’ll perform it again in April. Or you can come see it in Shanghai at the Shanghai Concert Hall.

Elstermann: Really? You’re doing it there too? Not bad. That’s exactly where it belongs. And just to be clear — December 12 to 15 at Radialsystem, then again in April, and then a mini tour to China: The Whole Truth About Lies by Nico and the Navigators. Thank you so much, and Merry Christmas.

Hümpel: You too — thank you!