If the restless Doctor Faust could wish for one thing, it would be for a moment of contentment. A man would give his life just to have a moment to which he could say: “Stay, you are so beautiful!”
“Moment” is actually a noun in Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s main work. It occurs exactly 25 times in the 12,000-verse drama; the dramaturge Matthias Seier counted. In Kay Voges’ “Faust” production, with which the Wiener Volkstheater opened the season, the moment plays a leading role, namely in the form of the art form that is created to capture moments: photography.
The performance is accompanied by the photographer Marcel Urlaub, who immediately takes snaps of the audience; the razor-sharp snapshots from the parquet, which are then beamed onto the stage in full format, are an amazing effect. As a result, Urlaub himself remains invisible most of the time, but his photos are almost permanently in the picture. It’s like live video, except the images—more than 100 photos in total—do not move.
The tone is cheerful, the gesture post-dramatic
The first part of the tragedy is played in a version condensed to a good two hours, supplemented by a few scenes from part two. At the end, the lights go out on stage, and Voges puts Goethe’s last words into the mouth of the dying Faust: “More light!” The tone of the staging is predominantly cheerful, the gesture post-dramatic: text and image run on separate tracks. While the actors speak the Goethe verses into microphones at the edge of the stage, photos are projected onto a screen. Most of the pictures are shot in the bungalow that stands on the stage and is furnished like an American motel room in the 70s. Many photos then look like film stills from a road movie, others are reminiscent of a somewhat more flashy photo love story.
The text and image levels correspond more associatively with one another. If, for example, old Faust (an imposing wreck: Andreas Beck) harbors suicidal thoughts in the text, we see in the still image how young Faust (Frank Genser) caused a small bloodbath while wet shaving. The walls of his room are papered with photos of people and UFOs (“I want to believe”), the modern Faust is obviously a conspiracy theorist. There are a total of three Faust actors, Mephisto is played alternately by two women and one man, and Margarete has four cast members.
One of the Gretchen actresses, the singer Hasti Molavian, is bullied by the theater director (Uwe Schmieder) in an audition situation (“You must be 1000 times better than all Gretchen in this German-speaking area!”) until she cries – and the photographer has her tears in her chest. “Faust I” is about the annihilation of a young woman by an older man; it is conclusive that Voges also brings the toxic balance of power on rehearsal stages into play in this context. But the scene never gets really uncomfortable, it remains playful and non-committal like the whole evening.
With this technically perfect staging, Kay Voges confirms his reputation as a stage nerd. The photo idea is captivating. Beyond that, the director couldn’t think of enough. More light!