Weekend in Berlin.

[jeverettr]

As with Michele, I have not been posting all that frequently, because instead of sitting at the computer, I'm out there seeing what Berlin has to offer. I've never been in such a position to have to select from such a wide variety of things to do (and invariably do none of them), but I have been out seeing some great things and places. Most notably was last night, a solo dance performance by Tomi Paasonen, a Finnish émigré who choreographed and styled his performance, a dance interpretation of schizophrenia and dissociate identity disorder. Before you start screaming, "Pretense!", just hear me out. He started in the audience, spending about ten minutes verbally explaining the choreography that was to follow, to himself no doubt. At first, the audience of seasoned art-veterans were tense, trying to feel out Paasonen. But as he continued, his interpretation of what was clearly a debilitation disorder became light, amusing, and almost cute. He moved to the stage, treating the audience as a master would teach his students, and the recorded voices and music begin, and he goes through the jerky moves he had choreographed, sometimes epileptic, but always with a flow from pose to pose. Slowly, a previously recorded reel of this scene is broadcast on plastic ceiling-to-floor sheets; I wondered if this served a double purpose. For instance, it fulfills the idea of the dissociate, multiple identities of the schizophrene, but also proves to the audience that Paasonen is not just making up jerks and stops at random. Just wonderful. At the end, Paasonen left and then a recorded montage played against the same plastic, and slowly we realized that it was us, entering the theatre. I guess without having been there, this seems orchestrated and predictable; that's at fault of my description. It was effective; you could see the audience stammering in, putting on their face for an unfamiliar crowd, a face that most of us do not have with those with whom we are familiar. Watching that was descriptive and telling. But, I got there toward the end; I wasn't filmed. No problem there.

So, pictures.





Street art in Kreuzberg, the former American portion of West Berlin (I only say that since on the map, it seems like it would have been East Berlin)





Publicity stunt at the Berlin Opera House. I assume these aren't real musicians. Take it from me, we're frightened of heights.



Karen and Anya at a Russian dinner party, chez moi.



All of us after the dinner.



Cool little sign structure at Kafe der Republik.



Blue-lit display outside Dock 11, where I saw the dance piece.