It dawns on you right at the beginning of the performance of “Mrs. Schmidt and the Child from Kharkiv”: It’s about Ukraine, even if the action takes place in Germany. On the stage of the Munich Kammerspiele you can see a living room from the post-war years; there is hard coal around the stage – it symbolizes the former economic power of Eastern Ukraine. Coal mining was the predominant industry there for decades, especially in Kharkiv.
The blackness of hard coal has long stood for not only an economic sector, but unfortunately also for scorched earth. Because Kharkiv is only about 30 kilometers from the Russian border, the city is regularly bombed. The darkness of the destroyed and burned-out houses, the darkness of the nights without electricity, is present on the stage.
This allegory runs through the entire performance. Using the example of two German families, the production deals with historical traumas in Europe and asks the question of how these traumas will have to be dealt with in the future in a common European space.
The families are both called Schmidt. There is a connection to Ukraine in both lives, but at different times. One Schmidt family lives in Mannheim in the post-war years, the other Schmidt family in the 1990s. The husband of the first family came home after a “civilian assignment” as an engineer in Ukraine during World War II. He keeps a child that he fathered during his deployment a secret from his wife. He also remains speechless about other experiences during the war. A silence that cannot end happily.
At the same time, the second family experiences their misfortune with an expensive adoption abroad; the couple cannot have children of their own. The Schmidts of the present build their family happiness on the resolution not to tell their son that he was adopted. But the boy is depressed, he feels a “hole in his heart”, something is missing. The situation becomes so complicated that Ms. Schmidt wants to find the Ukrainian mother.
Both family stories show how the traumas and secrets of the past influence the present and future. If the tragedy of the past is not dealt with, there can be no future. This idea is becoming increasingly relevant now that many people in the West are becoming increasingly war-weary and would only like to indulge in the illusion that life here can be separated from what is happening there.
It’s also about blind spots in Europe’s history
For me, the play by director and author Anne Habermehl also has a meta-level that addresses the question of Nazi Germany’s crimes in Ukraine – acts that only occupy a small place in the culture of remembrance. The topic is not an easy one, but it fills me with gratitude that Habermehl is taking it up now, while my country is once again experiencing a war of aggression and my people are suffering from terrible crimes against humanity.
The two stories of the Schmidt families ask about the blind spots in the history of Europe. Sometimes the narratives are erased so that a life of peace and freedom can flourish. This doesn’t help in the long term. In a world that has long since moved closer together, events in one country influence life in other countries. This applies to Europe and to Germany. Ignorance is not a good guide.
Emiliia Dieniezhna, 35, fled from Kiev with her then four-year-old daughter Ewa Pullach near Munich. She works on a voluntary basis for the non-governmental organization NAKO, whose goal is to fight corruption in Ukraine. She also teaches German to Ukrainian refugee children. She writes a weekly column for the SZ about her view of events in her home country from Munich.