Protagonist Siggi sits hunched at a desk
downstage, facing us. Behind him, facing away, ranks of classmates
scratch their pens in unison. The opening image of Philip Tiedemann’s
production (which has now transferred from the Berliner Ensemble’s
try-out space to its main house) is an apt emblem for both the staging
and the themes of Siegfried Lenz’s 1968 novel.
Lenz, along with contemporaries such as Günter Grass, was concerned
with dealing with the acts and also the attitudes, both collective and
individual, of his countrymen during the 1933-45 period. Siggi, tasked
with writing an essay on “The Joys of Duty”, responds obsessively,
recalling his childhood in the final years of WW2. His father, a police
officer in the extreme north of Germany, is a compulsively “good
German”, obeying orders because orders must be obeyed. He does not
allow friendship to divert him from suppressing the work of a painter
whose work has been classified “degenerate”; even when Nansen the
painter begins to produce blank canvases in protest, claiming they are
“invisible paintings”, Officer Jepsen destroys them nonetheless. With
the change in the fortunes of war, Jepsen’s orderliness grows more
rigorous and desperate, impacting on his own family and neighbours.
Meanwhile, Siggi hears the call of a duty of his own: to art, to
memory, to history.
Tiedemann’s production is spare yet elegant. The all-male cast of
eleven change costumes onstage and provide sound effects themselves.
The back of a wooden chair becomes a window through which Peter Miklusz
as Siggi crawls to meet his deserter brother; a street barricade is
built onstage, to the height of around a foot. The staging is very much
an ensemble work, with Siggi semi-detached. (I wondered briefly at the
beginning of the 85-minute piece whether he would ever cease to be
simply a narrator and join the story himself.) The latter phase of the
book – post-war developments, perfunctory de-nazification and the rise
of Siggi as an agent of events in his own right – is only sketchily
dealt with: it is easier to examine unflinchingly our distant selves
than our immediate ones. But Lenz’s combination of simplicity and
poetry comes through in the company’s characteristic staging.
Written for the Financial
Times.