How much truth can a relationship endure? And how much truth can a human being bear? What, for that matter, is truth? The constant quest for pure love brings only disillusionment. Every love affair is overshadowed by a fear of losing one’s partner and happiness. Much better, then, to stay ahead of disillusionment: to leave rather than to be left; to cheat rather than be cheated on; to hurt rather than to be hurt. Ultimately, every relationship ends in a brief affair. With each disillusionment, however, it becomes harder to believe and the loneliness grows. Until one indisputable truth remains: we all die alone.
In this adaptation of Schnitzler’s “comedy of the soul”, Anatol is performed by a woman: existentially alone, but driven by a deep desire for togetherness and for a love above all else. A love which perhaps does not exist at all. This play is a metaphor for the human psyche: always hungry for something different, better, greater and eternal, but invariably blind to the present. Trapped in her anxieties and doubts, with each new liaison, the main protagonist picks a carbon copy of her previous partner, and compulsively reiterates the same relational pattern. Until past, present and future merge into one, and falling in and out of love become interchangeable.
Text Arthur Schnitzler, Carl Hegeman, Maja Zade, Luk Perceval
Direction Luk Perceval
Scenography Katrin Brack
Costumes Ilse Vandenbussche
Lighting design Mark Vandenesse
Music Timo Kreuser
Dramaturgy Maja Zade