“I wanted to have a moment in the show which is not controlled,” says the German theatre director Thomas Ostermeier of his scorching version of Ibsen’s An Enemy of the People, about to open in London’s West End. “Which is very difficult for a director because directors want to control everything!”
The irony, he adds, is that this particular moment — when Ostermeier turns the show over to the audience to pitch in with their thoughts — is the one they remember. “I did some directing. I made a big effort to try and find rhythm and music and playfulness in the performance. And the moment when I didn’t do any work is the moment which is the most memorable!”
He laughs. We’re sitting in a tiny bar in London’s Duke of York’s theatre, amid piles of plush chairs and bottles of water waiting their cue for opening night. A portrait of the bewhiskered duke — later George V — stares down at us. It occurs to me that Ibsen’s 1882 play was first performed a decade before this handsome Victorian theatre even opened its doors.
And yet. Read Ostermeier and Florian Borchmeyer’s version, translated by Duncan Macmillan, and it comes roaring off the page as if written yesterday, seething with rage and despair. The story of Stockmann, a medical officer in a small spa town who discovers bacteria in the water but is silenced by the authorities, the play felt resonant when Ostermeier first staged it in 2012. Now, in a world just through a pandemic, facing climate change and familiar with the concept of “fake news” and “alternative facts”, it feels urgent.
“There’s a line in the play where Stockmann says, ‘When did we stop believing in facts?’” says Ostermeier. “He is in shock and he is bewildered that facts are not an argument any more.”
Like the play, this production is both old and new. Old, in that Ostermeier has staged it across the world, new in that this is the first time he has directed it in English. The UK cast is led by Matt Smith (known to many for Doctor Who). “On stage [Smith] has this layer of wildness,” says Ostermeier, appreciatively. “And that’s what I want for the character. I want a little rock ’n’ roll touch.”
The words Ibsen and rock ’n’ roll don’t usually meet in the same sentence, but Ostermeier does things differently. A visionary theatre artist, he has been running the Berlin Schaubühne for more than 20 years and is known globally for his stunning, often visceral productions, combining high concept with raw humanity: Hamlet staged in a pit of earth; Richard III with glitter cannon.
He’s the kind of director who attracts epithets such as “iconoclast” and “enfant terrible”. Yet in person he’s a gentle presence: softly spoken, drily funny and quietly self-deprecating. His approach is not about gimmicks, he says, but about trying to dig down into the truth of a play.
With An Enemy of the People that means exploring the process by which someone might become a radical. It also means ceding control: that moment when he opens the floor to the audience to get involved. But will that work with a British audience — might they be too reserved?
“Everywhere we went, the theatre director or festival director said, ‘You know, I’m really sorry but our audience will not interact in this moment. And they did, everywhere in the world . . . Every show will give you an idea of what the biggest concern of the people is.”
Perhaps it reminds them of the democratic function of theatre, I suggest. “No,” replies Ostermeier. “I’d say it reminds them of the democratic function of a democracy! Because It’s not so much about theatre, it’s a moment where people share opinions on how to solve issues which concern them. And this should be a democratic process where everybody’s invited to talk, respect the other and then find, through the argument, the best way out of it.” That communal experience, he suggests, could be an antidote to a widespread sense of isolation and impotence.
Much of Ostermeier’s programming is politically engaged: there’s a strand of the Schaubühne’s work at present examining the experience of working-class communities and exploring how far-right ideas have taken root again. Yet he is sceptical about the impact theatre can have politically: “In Germany we had the greatest political theatre maker, Bertolt Brecht, and he did not prevent us from fascism.”
Even so, the Schaubühne came into conflict a few years ago with the far-right AfD party, after staging a fiercely critical play, resulting in lawsuits (which the Schaubühne won), but also in personal attacks. “We had attacks on our theatre, on my car,” says Ostermeier. “The usual things that happen to journalists, to Jewish people, to Muslim people in Germany: they get threats via email, ‘We know where you live’ and so on . . . It was frightening. And now it’s even worse.” That response, though terrifying, does at least suggest theatre can make a difference.
Directing An Enemy of the People in English, he has discovered — with delight — that it is shorter. “The English language has fewer syllables than the German language — so of course the play gets shorter! I love that because you can put more content in a smaller amount of time.”
Ostermeier says he would love to direct Shakespeare in English: “Big challenge, but I should.” He has previously described the playwright’s work as “postmodern”. What did he mean by that? “It’s eclectic,” he replies. “It’s playing on different layers of theatre. So you have poetry, of course, and the beauty of language. You have philosophy and deep insights into the condition humaine and what it’s all about. You have stand-up, you have clownery, you have political cabaret. Then you have the drama, the tragedy, the comedy, the love stories — so that’s what I call postmodern, in the sense that he is sampling different genres and he’s a master.
“I approach Shakespeare as . . . ” he pauses. “I wanted to say as a friend but I’m not going to say that because I would never compare myself with his genius. [But] if you have too much respect you will be killed by the power of his genius: you will always be the small stupid little boy who tries to go into contact with the big mountain. And then you are dead. Less respect, more fun.”
Talking of fun, comedies don’t feature enormously in Ostermeier’s career. Comedy within productions, yes, out-and-out farce — less so. “That’s very sad!” he cries, laughing. “I would love to do a comedy. What might I do? I’d be up for a real Broadway comedy . . . ”
To April 6, anenemyofthepeople.co.uk
