born GUILTY i.b.m.
I tanttaka Susanne, 42. Johanes, 38. Rudolf, 36. Brigitte, 38. Rainer, 36. Stefanie, 19. Sibylle, 39. Egon, 26. Robert, 38. Erika, 34. Inge, 33. The fact that history can be read in many different ways is nothing new. The same can also be said about the way we tell stories. In fact, at times the way we tell a story or explain an historical event becomes even more important than what we are actually talking about.
Such is the case of The Tanttaka Theatre Group, a group that has always based its work on two concepts; one, there are stories worth telling, and two, the way they are told deserves to be taken into consideration. They have become well known for their superb dramatisations.
They certainly don’t let us down with "Errudun jaioak". Nobody is born free. Everybody is brought into this world with the weight of the past across their backs. Everyone must build their own world. The past cannot be denied; it can only be conquered. But, what do you do if your father was a nazi?
Brigette (daughter): justifying
Egon (son): accepting
Inge (daughter): overcoming
The testimonies of these "Born guilty", collected by journalist Peter Sichrovsky, are once again to see the light of day thanks to the work done by Tanttaka and Moma Teatre.
Using these testimonies as a basis, the play is rounded off by several other unusual elements. For one, the use of stage space is quite unusual; eleven chairs for the eleven interviewees are placed behind a glass wall and under a giant screen. The different characters sit in the front row of the theatre with their back to the audience. One by one they take their place on stage to tell their version of events. As one finishes another one takes the stage and starts to speak. The spectator is anonymous; the character doesn’t tell their story to anybody in the audience, he doesn’t even look at them.
Their version of the story and history is heard by a "virtual" character situated at a respectful distance on the screen. This tension is broken in an breathtaking way when all the characters, having had their say, stand up and face the audience for the first time. This causes a highly emotional sense of uneasiness.
The actors and actresses’ work in this play deserves a mention; they only have one chance and not much time to develop their character, but having done so, they have to maintain it for what seems like a never ending amount of time. The actors are denied the warmth and help of the audience; they have their backs to them and sit, alone, facing a camera. These obstacles, however, have not stopped them achieving polished performances.
Risky. Innovative. Well-rounded off.
“It’s a shame, but I’m almost done for, almost. I tried for years to convince myself that they didn’t have it easy, that they really suffered. But I just can’t justify it any more. Mum and Dad could have done something about it, at least after the war anyway. They were as willing as the rest. I’ve often thought about what I would have done, had I been in the same situation... Yes, I might have done the same, but I can’t bear the weight of my father’s decision any more.”
(SIBYLLE, 39)
Such is the case of The Tanttaka Theatre Group, a group that has always based its work on two concepts; one, there are stories worth telling, and two, the way they are told deserves to be taken into consideration. They have become well known for their superb dramatisations.
They certainly don’t let us down with "Errudun jaioak". Nobody is born free. Everybody is brought into this world with the weight of the past across their backs. Everyone must build their own world. The past cannot be denied; it can only be conquered. But, what do you do if your father was a nazi?
Brigette (daughter): justifying
Egon (son): accepting
Inge (daughter): overcoming
The testimonies of these "Born guilty", collected by journalist Peter Sichrovsky, are once again to see the light of day thanks to the work done by Tanttaka and Moma Teatre.
Using these testimonies as a basis, the play is rounded off by several other unusual elements. For one, the use of stage space is quite unusual; eleven chairs for the eleven interviewees are placed behind a glass wall and under a giant screen. The different characters sit in the front row of the theatre with their back to the audience. One by one they take their place on stage to tell their version of events. As one finishes another one takes the stage and starts to speak. The spectator is anonymous; the character doesn’t tell their story to anybody in the audience, he doesn’t even look at them.
Their version of the story and history is heard by a "virtual" character situated at a respectful distance on the screen. This tension is broken in an breathtaking way when all the characters, having had their say, stand up and face the audience for the first time. This causes a highly emotional sense of uneasiness.
The actors and actresses’ work in this play deserves a mention; they only have one chance and not much time to develop their character, but having done so, they have to maintain it for what seems like a never ending amount of time. The actors are denied the warmth and help of the audience; they have their backs to them and sit, alone, facing a camera. These obstacles, however, have not stopped them achieving polished performances.
Risky. Innovative. Well-rounded off.
“It’s a shame, but I’m almost done for, almost. I tried for years to convince myself that they didn’t have it easy, that they really suffered. But I just can’t justify it any more. Mum and Dad could have done something about it, at least after the war anyway. They were as willing as the rest. I’ve often thought about what I would have done, had I been in the same situation... Yes, I might have done the same, but I can’t bear the weight of my father’s decision any more.”
(SIBYLLE, 39)
