Project - Schiller Festival and its Newscrew

The Festival, its Newspaper and Me

Am I needed?

To name is to know ...

It all started on the hottest day of the year. After seemingly endless months of depressive grey, the millennium flood and the rotting crops on the fields, the sweltering heat returned with rengence. But the renowned guests for Mannheim’s 17^th International Schiller-Festival would spend their time frolicking in a cultural garden Eden dripping with sweat.

As was I. Since Mannheim’s theater was funding my trip, I had decided to take the train, which, in hindsight, was an incredibly foolish thing to do. Seriously, who would want to spent 6 hours imprisoned in a tin can on wheels, where the huge windows won’t open, no matter what, and without functioning AC you are ready to jump ship after 30 minutes. I however had to make it through five hours. When left home that morning the thermostat read 35°C. When I arrived, I was a puddle of sweaty goo that somewhat resembled a human.

Collini Centre Mannheim

LINK: 1st Edition (German)

We, the nine would-be journalists (8 girls, 1 guy) under the watchful eye and tutelage of Jürgen Berger (Süddeutsche Zeitung), Barbara Burckhardt (Theater heute) and Angela Aumann (Layout), arrived two days early but began our work weeks ago. 
On this blistering hot day in June 2013 (the 19^th to be exact), the conclave convened at the National Theater Mannheim for a first informal get-together. Our host parents, journalistic coaches, the organization squad and the theatre director were all invited to toast to the great would-be festival newspaper supplement - Mass Medium Newspaper for the 17th International Schiller Festival.Similar to the all-inclusive holiday trip to Barbados, we were handed our coupons for food and drink, a street map, the festival program, a bag full of goodies – gummibears and festival t-shirt included. Of course the holiday atmosphere quickly disappeared when we heard, four newspapers e.g 16 pages each, were to be filled.

Suddenly everything centered around the project and the future journalists in their midst. After a quick game of “hi, my name is” and the obligatory souvenir group shot on the terrace in the afternoon sun, we were allowed to inspect our very own newsroom. Oddly enough the windowless concrete bunker seemed more than a little inviting after the stifling heat outside.

Workdorks on the prowl for the next scoop!

Festival Centre - Theatre Mannheim

In the beginning everything is still up in the air, at least for us. The stress had yet to reach unbearable levels. But like the horrible prophecy the of Macbeth's witches, the prognosis the experts was quite bleak: the  presure would mount and illusions break. The first issue is going to the printers of the Mannheimer Morgen around noon, and during the very first official team meeting the last-minute spelling corrections still had to be made. But the first 12 pages are done, what they look like, how much is us and how much was added e.g. cut by the professionals will probably remain a mystery.

LINK: 2nd Edition (German)

We began early: At nine o’clock sharp- conference with the editors. And the first thing we had to learn the "hard way" -There is no paper, if it doesn't get to the printers on time. Unfortunately an absolute deadline at 14:00h (2p.m) makes it slightly stressful to get the redaction, the writing, verifying quotes and spellings for the the cut and paste of the final copy slightly more difficult.The first 3 hours were spent discussing who does what and maybe how. Followed by a brief proof reading break and back to the desks and the organizational work. 
What a rush - we got the papers out!

The waning afternoon sun and Mannheims Unterer Luisen Park built the perfect lazy-hazy setting for a summerday debate about the future of print jounalism in the age of the vanishing newspaper.  
Would you have participated without the focus on print journalism? 

So we sat  in a circle on the green green grass in a bizarre version of journalistic picknick with a lecture on how to write a theatre review. Still, we got segwayed with the tales of our editors' past experiences with plays, theatre directors, critics and criticism and the respect for the author and the subject.  Result: you are never really satisfied with what you've written. But en the end had the rules and tools of reviewing. 

#1: Be subjective, it's your opinion that counts. 

#2: Be creative in your descriptions. 

#3: Don't flood your review with adjectives of praise.

#4: Don't bash badly.

#5: Accuracy! Accuracy! Accuracy!

#6: Be concrete - not abstract.

#7: Decode costumes, setting, music

#8: It's not about your ego or aestheticism - the adaptation matters

#9: There is no fixed form

#10: Feeling comes first, reason later.

Do I catch on?

Facetime with the editor 

A shadow of myself

„Out of my depth“, does not even come close to what I feel after the one-on-one conversation with my editor. Inadequate seems to be seems to describe the situation better. But of course I should not let myself be discouraged. On paper I am a good candidate but in person I am disappointing? But this time even on paper the result of my toils falls short. (Again not for the first time.) Apparently I have no grasp of my own language let alone any other; I am unstructured and confusing and can’t follow through in my argumentation but all in all in all it was good.

... and the questions remain.

Then again he was nice enough to excuse my perfectly blatant inability to produce something sensible. I can hide it: the crushing disappointment behind the poker-face. Now Siegfried and Roy have officially left the building. The grand illusion just burst.
If I was in a snit, he asked, but to me it was never a question of being mortally offended by the comment of my editor. It's his job. The truth however remains - I came to learn something about myself and my writing, as a result of my dissillusionmen I knew, I have to start contemplating the personal consequences I should  draw from this experience. Adding insult to injury - he was kind enough to offer me excuses - my long stay abroad, my own study focus and the little fact that for the past six years I have breathed, thought and written little in my first language. But my language is what made me a person, made me different and an individual with a voice and an opinion of her own. I seem to remember a time, when writing in German was less of a chore and more of a pleasure.
Now, I am struggling, uncertain, tentative and most of the time unwilling to use my voice to defend something or anything.To me it is quite obvious - I have lost my instinct for language.  My mind lies in scrambles, blown to pieces by the ticking bomb of uncreative dependence. I seem to have forgotten how to use my voice, my language and express myself. If Saussure was right after all and representation is the creation of meaning through language, it was all meaningless.But then again, the rest of the team liked the edited version of my writing. I'd say - well edited.

Dramathon - The Plays

• Über die Ästhetische Erziehung des Menschen oder Freiheit ist nur ein anderes Wort für nix mehr zu verliehren (Patrick Wengenroth)
• Don Carlos -Gastspiel - Thalia Theater Hamburg:  (Jette Steckel)
• Die Jungfrau von Orleans  - Nationaltheater Mannheim
• Kabale und Liebe - Theater Prijut Komedianta Sankt Petersburg 
• Räuber Schulden Genital - Burgtheater Wien
• Wilhelm Tell - Schauspielhaus Zürich
• Wilhelm Tell - Neumarkt Theater (R. Sanchez/ J. Rachut) 

complete list on the website 

Miese Made Meese - The Hype and the bitter disappointment?

Between Hitler and the dicatroship of Art

4 orange chairs, French baguette, Ham, a plastic doe, an alien doll with a swastika, sausage chains in every form shape and colour, floggers, piked helmet, toys, green plastic bottles, a Roman standard, police tape, markers in red and black, a leather snake, leather masks - a chaotic setting for Meese's ballet. The artist, dressed in black, is running and running in circles around the stage, sprouting nonsense about the dictatorship of art.
I would have loved to leave that page blank - this should have been an article about Jonathan Meese but we decided to go ahead with - NO COMMENT! What my esteemed colleague ended up writing: I've lost 2 hours of my life, being bored out of my skull by this anti-democratic, anti-anarchy, anti-criticism, anti-analysis, anti- as a new fashion statement-nonsense. The few somewhat sensible splinters he uttered, were drowned out by the cacophony and chaos, the nonsense.

LINK 3rd edition (German)

After his mother called him from the stage, I was baffled. This is how that guy makes money. There are a ton of talented and creative people out there who were not hyped by the art market but they don't get a chance because of "performers" like him? Where is that critical mass? Is it all just about provoking the audience into any reaction? Because any reaction is a good reaction? At least they are talking about you? Is it about pushing people to break self-imposed taboos? At the end the question: Why can anyone make money from that? rang loud and clear through the auditorium.
And I have not found a satisfying answer. Because let's face it he is just exploiting our own stupidity, the name/ label draws us in, we spend the big bucks on it and then are bitter disappointed because an A is an A in any from, shape or colour. It's not him, it's us. We are the uncritical mass.

Critics - Peer Review: The institution and the Newspaper

• Matthias Lilienthal made a short pitstop in Mannheim (Theater der Welt 2014): Sometimes artists need to be daring. Go all out and profit from this experience. His advice: "Mehr rotzen". 
• Host mothers/ theatre enthusiasts: You guys did a great job.
• During breakfast Ralf-Karl Langhals (critic, Mannheimer Morgen) painted a very bleak future for cultural journalism, especially, however, in print journalism. After the reader scans revealed most readers just read the first lines and than skiped to the next article, we were forced to write about what draws the masses and that's not necessarily art is food for the masses. Experimental stuff may be great, but it often pushes the envelope.
• Burckhardt C. Kosminski on the in-house critics: Theatre needs criticism as a reference point. It's about questioning, what the theatre does.

The Schiller Masses - (un)-critical?

Where is the mass in the theatre? For Burkhard Kosminski the theatre is the oldest forum where art meets the public. Without the public/ the audience there would be no theatre. Best case scenario - the audience is a critical mass, which means: having an opinion, any opinion, ranging from anger to disappointment.
But the truth is simple! The theatre like the print papers are in crisis. Nothing new here the print editions are vanishing and culture is expensive. We tend to save banks before we save culture. Budgets are shrinking especially for all things art; with the spectre of the Euro crisis is looming ever so large over the cultural institutions - it seems - need legitimazation.

LINK 4th edition (German)

The theatre is going through an existential crisis, a well documented one if you can believe the myriad of questions painted and posted on all sorts of walls, real and digital. Is it a cry for help? Or sledge hammer that nails the problems on the head? The expression of deep seated shock of digitalized world post-cinema, post-radio, post-print.  I've had the chance to witness great theatre, great performers, great artists, great images and great inspiration alongside complete and utter crap ... But what remains for me is the memory of 10 great days in the company of 9 creative and inspiring people. It's the feeling you've done something t, even though less than 24 hours later it was business as usual and the red paint slowly disappeared, but you want to believe - in spite of or maybe because of all the praise you've received for your hard labour - you changed something - even if it's just one person. You opened the door for only one reader into a different Schillerama.