. . . private . . . downstairs in the storage area beneath the stage . . . that's where I teach . . . occasionally we stream up the vomitoriums into the house onto the stage and even into the light&sound booth . . . most of the time we bunker down safe in our studies . . . the walls concrete around us . . . we are few . . . but a loyal bunch . . . the lights are soft or harsh transforming the space at will . . . sometimes we light fires . . . most of the time there's music . . . and always voices . . . words, words, words . . . matter . . .
Heart Play
My thoughts are wounds in my head. My brain is a scar. I want to be a machine. Arms to drag legs to walk no pain no thinking. (Heiner Müller , 'Hamletmachine' ) Heartplay A May I lay my heart at your feet. B If you don't make a mess on my floor.. A My heart is clean.. B We'll see, won't we.. A I can't get it out.. B Would you like me to help you.. A If you wouldn't mind.. B It'll be a pleasure. I can't get it out either.. A cries. B I will remove it surgically. What have I got this penknife for anyway. We'll have this sorted out in no time. work will keep you from despair. Right, there we are. But this is a brick. Your heart is a red brick.. A Yes, but it beats only for you.. (1981) A beats B to death with the brick.. (Addition, July 1991). ------------- Heiner Müller ----------------- from Heiner Müller Theatremachine translated and edited by Marc von Henning
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