Anyone who believes that the North German mentality is characterized by laconicism, a certain rigidity and cool reserve will see Matthias Riedel-Rüppel as only a moderately talented representative of his home region. Born in Kiel in 1971, the director of the Small Theater Haar is a highly communicative and quite extroverted person who regularly picks up the microphone to greet his audience on stage. His eyes then twinkle mischievously behind his glasses when he doesn’t take himself that seriously – as most recently in May at the presentation of the Upper Bavarian art promotion prize “Seelen-Art” for artists with psychiatric experience: a characteristic event, in the spirit of the der small theater committed to social culture and its sponsors – the district of Upper Bavaria, the community of Haar and the social psychiatric center of the district (SPZ).
For all his sociability and talent for irony, the soon to be 51-year-old, who, as a trained trumpeter, also played in symphony orchestras in Kiel, Lübeck and Hamburg and gave solo concerts, is not one to take things lightly and sunny. “The love of culture has shaped my life,” he explains, and as someone who has turned this passion into a career, the past two and a half years have of course not been easy. Lockdown, the question of the systemic relevance of culture, streaming, the economic existential threat to many people working in the cultural sector – that required a lot of energy, cost a lot of trouble and took it away. “There were really sad moments,” he says in retrospect. The theater closure in March 2020 during the first lockdown, for example.
Riedel-Rüppel came in 2015 to lead the house out of a difficult financial situation and thought he couldn’t handle another crisis. There was also a day in January 2021 when the pain at the sight of the empty auditorium overwhelmed him: “An absolute low point. I thought to myself: This has nothing to do with theater anymore.” On the other hand, the tears of joy when, in the summer of 2020, after the end of the first lockdown, music played in the house again for the first time. “It’s not just about money and work,” says Riedel-Rüppel, “but also about the question of what that means for people for whom the stage is life.”
In the small theater Haar, which became a special cultural hotspot in the district and eastern area of Munich during the pandemic, mainly because of its wide range of streaming offers – and was therefore the only point of contact for a number of artists and freelance stage technicians – event life has been back for a long time flourished. The Art Nouveau house, which opened in 1912 and stands on the former site of the clinic, offers an extensive and varied program and, thanks to the newly completed outdoor stage, also has a beautiful podium for open-air performances, including the series “After work at the theatre”.
“It’s not all a drama, but it remains difficult.”
Riedel-Rüppel, who as project manager is also organizing the Zamma culture festival in the district of Upper Bavaria at the beginning of July this year, is only partially satisfied with the response. Even a prominent author like Axel Hacke, whose reading would have been sold out within a few days, recently had to look at a number of empty seats. “It’s not all a drama, but it remains difficult,” says Riedel-Rüppel. As a well-connected, energetic and also socially committed cultural manager, he would like a broad, politically supported image campaign that will bring people back to the theaters, community centers or cultural centers more quickly. Whether through Inthega (interest group of cities with guest theater performances) or the Association of Munich Cultural Organizers: “The exchange among each other is good, but we also have to make political demands.”
Whoever enters Riedel-Rüppel’s office on the second floor of the theater can guess at a glance what a jack of all trades the man from Kiel is as a cultural manager, artistic director and organizer. On the desk next to the Small Theater programme, there is a prospectus for the Seelen-Art-Projects, on the wall there is a picture by the artist Thomas Hobelsberger, who has experienced psychiatric treatment, and the Zamma programs cannot be overlooked either.
Manager, director, organiser: Matthias Riedel-Rüppel has many functions at the Small Theater Haar.
(Photo: Sebastian Gabriel)
Riedel-Rüppel only became project manager for the organization of the inclusive culture festival, which is organized every two years by the district and an Upper Bavarian municipality, at the beginning of the year because his predecessor had canceled at short notice. Venue this year is the city of Bad Aibling. “It’s a sign of a new cultural beginning and good togetherness,” says Riedel-Rüppel happily, despite the stress and lack of sleep that the additional task has given him. For eight days, from July 2nd to 9th, there is a diverse program with more than 50 events at 23 venues.
Riedel-Rüppel raves about the cooperation with the “local actors” and the “charm of the festival”, which is quite unique with its regionally inclusive and sustainable claim (www.bezirk-oberbayern.de/zamma), the mostly free events and the melange of professional and non-professional artists. That’s how they play Cuban on and nappy, but there is also a city tour in easy language or a “deaf slam”, i.e. a poetry slam in sign language. “Above all, we as a district want to give an initial spark, what is set up there should continue to develop and be sustainable for the community.”
Riedel-Rüppel, who currently also has an office in Munich’s Prinzregentenstraße near the district (“I even get along with the authorities”) because of his job as project manager, will also be in Bad Aibling at the beginning of July and will be staying in a hotel during the festival days.
“I believe that an inclusive society can work, but that doesn’t mean that everything has to be limitless.”
“I want cultural work to be understood without barriers. I believe that an inclusive society can function. But that doesn’t mean that everything has to be limitless,” he says. For the man from Kiel, who regularly collaborates with the Tölzer Knabenchor, the Munich Volkssängerbühne or the Munich Classical Players maintains, by the way, also the provision of a podium for young, not so well-known artists. “That too is a form of inclusion – to offer a basis for cabaret, to make something possible,” says Riedel-Rüppel.
“Where do all the great Bavarian cabaret artists come from?” Young music groups also have the opportunity to gain stage experience, for example in the “After work hours in the theatre” series. Riedel-Rüppel, who works at the SPZ himself, always seems to have an open ear for artists of all stripes and others in the cultural sector. People who deal with him are impressed by his affable and goal-oriented nature. When asked what he sees critically about himself, he says: “I can be very impatient.” And: “A boss is not always fair per se.”
When it comes to the inclusive culture in particular and also the (linguistic) discussion of it, the soon to be 51-year-old, who is married to a man, claims an advantage in terms of experience: “I’ve also experienced being part of a fringe group. That was it sometimes painful, but I’m self-confident and now you can’t meet me anymore, not even verbally.” And adds mischievously: “Besides, I didn’t tune through world history.” The North German has felt at home in Munich for a long time. And now also understands Bavarian well. Similar to Frisian, the native Holsteiner leaves it at listening.