It happened at the beginning of the first lockdown, at a time of great concern among freelancers. Permanent employees of state theaters would continue to receive their salaries when the houses closed, but what about the guest artists? Their fee depended on the performances, but it was no longer played, and from one day to the next they had no income. An emergency, a predicament in which some of them got an offer as old and disgusting as blackmailing sexual favors ever. “Those in charge have often said: If you show your appreciation, we can do something,” says Maren Lansink, the legal advisor at the Themis trust center. Ten, fifteen women from all over Germany had turned to Themis about such cases. Some after rejecting the request, others after accepting it – all felt used, dirty, often “extremely traumatized”.
All of this had no consequences for the perpetrators. Not one of the women decided to take any further steps. “They didn’t want me to turn to the houses,” says Lansink. “And we are bound to secrecy.” None of the men ever had to answer, Lansink assumes that the number of unreported cases was much higher. The fear of those affected is still greater than that of the perpetrators.
Berlin’s late summer shines in front of the window of her office. The Landwehr Canal glitters to the full. But what Lansink reports reveals into the abyss. The lockdown had taken to extremes what had only led to the establishment of the Trust Office against Sexual Harassment and Violence three years ago: that opera, theater and film have existential dependencies and soldier hierarchies, that megalomania, artist cult and well-established practices are more masculine Exercise of power have survived every artistic epoch. “It’s always the same misery,” says Lansink.
Under the shock of the revelations about Hollywood film producer Harvey Weinstein and German director Dieter Wedel, under the impression of hundreds of #metoo reports by artists and in film productions, industry associations, employee and employer representatives and broadcasters such as ARD, ZDF or Deutschlandfunk launched in October 2018 with the help of the Federal Themis. Since then, the number of inquiries has increased from year to year. By August of this year, Themis recorded as many cases (171) as almost all of the previous year (177). The number of consultations is almost twice as high. Therefore the team was enlarged to four employees. Since mid-October there has been another legal advisor in addition to Maren Lansink. A second psychological counselor will join them in mid-November.
Politicians stick to some cultural autocrats if they operate economically
Themis appears in the most sensational theater scandals of recent times: as allegations against the director of the Berlin Maxim Gorki Theater Shermin Langhoff – on which Langhoff does not comment publicly – or as women of the Berliner Volksbühne against the interim director Klaus Dörr resisted.
Dörr is said to have promised women career opportunities if they showed themselves to be accessible, he insulted younger women, but also liked to offend older women, and generally behaved as if #metoo had taken place on another planet. The fact that he took over the Volksbühne after the Chris Dercon debacle probably contributed to the impression that he was irreplaceable. The women turned to Themis, the confidential office wrote to Berlin’s Senator for Culture, Klaus Lederer, a few days later Dörr gave in. He said he was taking full responsibility and giving up his post in agreement with the cultural administration. The only beauty mark: The taz had quoted from Themis correspondence, that didn’t look good. “We would never pass on our correspondence in our life,” says Lansink. “If the Themis is quoted from a letter, it is because those affected have passed it on. We act on their behalf, so of course they receive all of our letters themselves.”
For other cultural autocrats, politics holds the peg longer if they are economical, if contracts have only just been signed. The ministry had long known that the ensemble was suffering from the conditions at the Badisches Staatstheater in Karlsruhe. Nevertheless, it negotiated a severance payment with the artistic director Peter Spuhler for months before the contract, which actually ran until 2026, was extraordinarily terminated in July.
At the beginning of the calls to Themis there is usually a great deal of uncertainty. “I don’t know if I am right with you, but I experienced something …” This is how it begins. When the women then tell – 85 percent of those affected are women – they usually realize “after three sentences” that it is a case of sexual assault, says Lansink. Amazingly, this does not lead to outrage among the victims, but to self-accusations. Perhaps she herself had a share in what happened, a woman would say, perhaps she shouldn’t have worn a skirt at the premiere party after all. They are classic cases of victim blaming, only it comes from the victims themselves.
When the perpetrators leave, discreet language rules are often chosen
Lansink and her colleague can neither offer legal representation nor psychotherapy, but they can write to employers, theaters, film companies, associations. For fifteen years, the General Equal Treatment Act has obliged employers to create a non-discriminatory job; it even provides for the possibility of refusing to perform if wages are still paid. Hardly anyone knows about the law, but awareness has now increased to such an extent that employees react quickly. What happens behind the doors of the studios or the stages is one thing, how the industry wants to present itself to the outside world, something completely different. The employer has many options, from issuing a warning to giving notice, to put an end to the abuse. When the perpetrators leave, discreet language rules are often chosen: mutual agreement, “new tasks”.
The anger is still great. Themis sometimes destroys careers, and that has consequences. Insults on the phone and email are not uncommon, of course in the name of art. The mailbox was broken into once. Another time, Lansink was intercepted by a man in the street outside the office. She rode away from the stalker on her bike. But the team prefers to be careful with the exact office address, photos, anything that makes Themis and her employees easier to identify.
Some directors – not militant, just unteachable – complain to Lansink that Themis is the “gravedigger of art”. In fact, the trust agency operates in what many believe to be the heart of creativity. As in few other professions, there is familiarity and intimacy in the artistic community, and often – especially in ballet – physical closeness as well. Most of them are now quite aware that the inspiration of the directorial genius may not depend on the fact that you can touch women at any time. But don’t great feelings and artistic intensity need a gray area, blurring, so good: artistic freedom? For Lansink this is an advanced argument: “Every man knows where the limit is.” But for a long time not every man had to adhere to it. Amazon or Netflix now require one for productions in Europe Intimacy Coordinator for sex scenes to clarify what is agreed and what is not.
The younger generation gives her hope, says Themis board member Eva Hubert
Cases from the film industry are brought to the advisors, especially in the summer, when the theaters have a break, but cinema and television productions are made because the days are long and the weather is good. Soon more calls from the theater are likely to come in, the season is picking up speed.
Eva Hubert, a member of the Themis board of directors, does not think that the number of calls to Themis is increasing as a bad sign. She hopes that even more people will have the courage to make use of their right to lodge a complaint: “This is the only way that everyone will at some point have fewer disadvantages in their jobs.” The younger generation gives her hope, she says, because the young assert themselves better and communicate boundaries more decisively.
Harvey Weinstein has now been sentenced to 23 years in prison. The Munich public prosecutor has brought charges of rape against Dieter Wedel. Ben Gibson, the director of the German Film and Television Academy Berlin, had to leave after showing the bare bottom of a student in an argument. He later spoke of “misunderstandings and rumors”, but expressed understanding that they had agreed to “shorten the contract”. Hubert says: “The air is getting thinner for such behavior.”
After three years with Themis, Maren Lansink rarely goes to the theater or the cinema. She knows too well how all the fine art comes about. The filth that gets on fire at Themis is not an exception, but a widespread problem, she says. “There are no more heroes in this industry.”