KATERINI is a staged reality. It is a five and a half hour performance that takes place in six rooms and an open, public space. The spectator visits the rooms by appointment and meets one performer, alone. The public space changes functions continuously: it’s a place of announcements, public speeches, entertainment, or just a meeting point where you can have your drink. The rooms, each one with its own scenario, narrate a whole new story, giving new light to the dramaturgy of the performance. The spectators may leave at any time they please.
A room for the broken hearted
Room 3 (Angeliki)
- His mouth stopped her cries, only this time, his kiss has lost its sweetness and sensuality. Now, there was only insistent lust. He lifted her in his arms, like a feather, pressing her against his body, holding her like a trophy while his mouth was devouring hers, awakening her senses. She didn’t have to hold him back, he wouldn’t let her go. But, for some reason, she felt the need to wrap her arms around his neck and cross his hair with her fingers rubbing her aroused nipples onto his chest, as she was coming closer to his mouth. Diablo.
- Nice name…
- …Left a sigh on her lips, thrilling her senses. As soon as they have entered the room, he let her down slowly while he was pressing her on his aroused body. Bryar was surprised by his size. It was frightening. She was panicked at the thought that, in a little while, she would have to accept him inside her. What if she couldn’t? He took off the straps of her dress, pulled the bodice of her dress and he took her tumid breasts in his hands. And then, a crazy idea crossed her mind. She knew that in the end, she would be the loser. How could she believe that she could resist him? The second he was touching her, she was catching fire.
A room by the sea
Room 6 (Ippokratis)
- When I was a child, my parents didn’t have a camera, so the only thing I have from my childhood is some photographs. Since then, I like to film certain things I see. Come on. Welcome. I am Ippokratis.
- Hi, Siamak. You can sit here. This is Terry, he is the fish, I would like you to take him in your arms. I think he likes it. Fantastic, isn’t it? Does it remind you of something?
- Which place?
- Somewhere, an island…
- Which one?
- Koufonisi island…
- Koufonisi. What’s the name of the beach?
- I can’t remember…
- Which Koufonisi?
- The big one.
- When were you there?
- 5 years ago… 4…
- It was your first time there?
- You were there alone?
- No, with a girl…
- What’s her name?
- You were in love?
- Just friends…
- We had an affair…You were alone, the two of you or did you have friends with you?
- Is it ok with you to film you?
- It’s a bit difficult but ok, let’s go…
- Ok, get over it, it’s going to be ok, I promise you. Did you meet other people there?
Ηead! At ease! Ready for prayer. Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us. Lord, our God, Father of the Universe, send us cancer. Μake the sewers overflow. Break the fingers of the humans.Take off our eyes. Break the needles of those who have botox. Cut with your two-edged sword the heads of the socialists and the liberals and the right-wings and the left-wings and the centrists and the ecologists and the Righteous and the Virtuous and the Bad, cut them all off. Bombard with your wrath the Parthenon, the Tower of London the Eiffel Tower, the Pentagon, the Louvre and the Pyramids. Bring at last the new Plague in Europe. Bring the locusts. The frogs. Make the trains catch fire in tunnels, the planes falling on our cities. Sink my home and the homes of those who are here today. Give us a great earthquake. 12 Richter. 13. And make the cries of the children a beautiful song, praising Your glorious name. Kill Bono from U2, the New Kids On The Block, if they still exist, Vladimir Poutin, Sting, that band that’s singing...It’s Saxon, my Lord. Break the glasses of those who wear glasses and put the glasses in their eyes. Hide razors in children’s cakes. Bring constipation on earth. Pour heavenly fire on Zurich. Desert everything, my Lord. Destroy all the chinese toys. Make the world. Send Armagedon, like the film. Bring back the dinosaurs, the unicorns. Kill Kiki Dimoula, Noam Tchomsky, Ernesto Sabato. Sink the ships. Send icebergs on the ships. Fill our pockets with snakes. Bring back Hitler on earth, and Stalin, and Alexander the Great. And Annivas. And Chenghis Han. Make Schwarzeneger the Leader of the world. Give us guns. Give us guns. Bring the Turks back to Greece. Gather the Cypriots back to Cyprus. Bring back the Romans, Bring the aliens, my Lord. Yes, my Lord. Invent a new disease. Remove from earth the oeuvres of Nikos Kazantzakis, Giorgos Seferis, Odysseas Elitis. Break Vassili’s right hand, shut his mouth. And then break his left hand. And then break his head. Make our nails impossible to cut, impossible. Give us boredom, plenty of Boredom. Give us money, my Lord. Indeed. We need money. Make this building fall on our heads and I will believe you.Do it.
In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holly Spirit.
Katerini is a typical provincial Greek town with 50.000 inhabitants. It is a town that lies away from the decision-making centers, and it’s near the sea, between the two major cities, Athens and Thessaloniki. A town where time goes by slowly, where people live their small tragedies behind closed doors, at some point, they go out, to the square of the town, meet their friends, protest against the corruption of the politicians or the decadence of their area and then go back to their houses, to school, to the beach or in their rooms.
A room about politics
Room 4 (Pepe)
- What's your name?
- What are the names of your father and mother?
- Dimitra, Kostas.
- Who do you love more, Mrs. Dimitra or Mr. Kostas?
- The same.
- Me, too.
- When you were a child, were Mrs. Dimitra and Mr. Kostas singing you songs?
- They were. Probably.
- Would you like to sing it to me? May I sing a song to you, too?
(Anthem of the Greek Socialist Party)
- What do your parents vote?
- They vote…My parents are sentimental persons and so, they have voted for almost all the parties, in order not to disappoint any of them…In the last elections, my father probably voted for the Socialists and my mother for a more leftwing party…
blitz theatre group
blitz theatre group
Eva Manidaki ↗
Athens and Epidaurus Festival ↗
The Greeks are born to be arrivistes and live a life of lies and oblivion. There is not a political iniquity big enough that they cannot forget in a week's time, neither a crime big enough. The Greeks are, yes, born to cover crimes, the Greeks cover every single crime, even if it is the most gross one because they are, yes, born to be arrivistes. For decades and decades, our ministers are guilty for the most horrible crimes, the so-called socialists in the past, the so-called liberals nowadays, and this stupid people cover them. For decades and decades these ministers deceive in the most lethal way and the people cover them. For decades and decades, these unconscionable Greek ministers fill the Greek people with lies and despite that, these people cover them. When we open a newspaper, we have once more a political scandal, everyday a scandal in which politicians of this state are engaged, politicians that have devastated this state beyond recognition, when you open a newspaper, you think that you live in a country where political iniquity and political criminality are an everyday custom.
Never before was there such a disgusting and gross Greek society in such a disgusting and gross state, but nobody in this country is ashamed of that, the Greek accepts everything, the Greek is anything but a revolutionary because he is the least devoted friend of the truth, the Greek lives in lies for centuries and centuries and he has been used to it, the Greek is married to lies for centuries and centuries, any kind of lies but especially to the state's lies. The so-called adorable and hospitable Greek is a mischievous arriviste who always set his traps, everywhere, the so-called adorable and hospitable Greek is the Teacher of filth and grossness. The general course of stupefaction is so advanced that there is no way back.
Thomas Bernhard, Correction (Exantas, 1998).