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Yiorgos is applauding Sophia who has fallen. He is thinking of Paris which was destroyed last November. He is thinking of Orly airport, the snow that was falling... and a woman on the edge of the pier. Christos is drinking water. He cannot remember how he ended up here. He is thinking of the sirens in the night, the roar of the aircraft over Antwerp and the hours spent waiting for her in front of the building covered with signs. In those days, the traffic lights blinked all alone in the empty streets. At the tower of Notre Dame. There, where you gave me your love. There, where you made me love you. That's where I'm still waiting for you. This is what Maria is thinking of. She is dancing with Fidel now. But time... time, time... that destroys everything, took you away from me, my lost love. And now I am alone and in love there, where you gave me your love. At the tower of Notre Dame. But time... time, time... that destroys everything, took you away from me, my lost love. And now I am alone and in love there where you made me love you. At the tower of Notre Dame. From here, I can see the whole city. At the tower of Notre Dame. It is from here that I will jump. For you. I am in a park. I remember that there were parks. It’s the third day. I am standing next to you. Behind us, what was later called "The Headquarters". I smile. You are shy ~ In those days, the roof of the hospital in Potsdam collapsed. It was a huge fire. Some were sleeping in the airports, others in malls. We were sleeping in the warehouses next to the River Spree ~ There was a general mobilisation. The radios remembered the military marches from before the war ~ I am in a deserted train station. Behind me, a 20th century steam locomotive. I am wearing a blue coat which does not suit me at all. In the distance, the European army is marching. It has won the battle of Zurich. Everybody is happy. I do not remember the year, but one can see the rain falling from the station roof… me, smiling… and her, touching my right shoulder, wanting to tell me something ~ 5th day. We meet on Victory Boulevard. It is full of dead animals. With your right hand, you lift the head of an antelope. You have blood everywhere. You smile at the camera. On the 5th day, we meet on Victory Boulevard. It’s the first time I see you in uniform. I approach you. You say something I do not understand, and we start to laugh ~ I am in front of the military hospital. A bottle shard has got into my knee. You look at me and laugh. You bleed. The day the zoo was bombed, all the animals escaped into the city. We were chasing them. We were chasing giraffes which knocked their heads against the traffic lights. It was a game for us. That is what I remember from those days ~ In those days, you could read on the walls of the centre of Amsterdam: THE OLD LIFE IS OVER, IDIOTS! In those days, we were breaking in the hospitals and were giving ourselves morphine injections. We were stealing wheelchairs and were racing around Rosenthaler Platz ~ I am sitting on a wall ~ I am trying to see the fireworks launched over the canal ~ They are celebrating the fall of Novi Sad ~ I help you up ~ In those days, there were fireworks every night there ~ I am at Kollwitz Platz. It's snowing. In those days, any notion of shame had disappeared. Fidel is sitting. He is smiling. He is thinking of something he cannot forget. A morning in peacetime ~ In London everything was difficult. We were sleeping in underground passages, next to the ventilation ducts ~ It was the Internet, whisky and dressings which we first missed ~ We pulled the statues out from their bases and threw them in the river. That's what was happening in those days ~ Fidel is thinking of a morning in peacetime. Of a house, her, sleeping... the large windows and the sun over Berlin ~ It is the 10th day. The European army continues to march... I am wondering if these days have any meaning. I see you in my dreams ~ In those days, the city was empty during daytime and only filled up at night. It was weird. Yes, at night, everything was weird. We did not know what to do. We could not find any weapons. We were afraid we would die ~ The cobblestones in Kollwitz Platz are damaged; there is mud everywhere... You are wearing sling backs; I am carrying you on my back... You stretch out your hand and make the victory sign ~ I am sitting in front of the cathedral. In those days, we wouldn’t believe in anything ~ In those days, the doors of the houses were broken. We were breaking in... Looking for laptops. And passports ~ Many were jumping off the buildings. Their bodies were lying in the streets and the rain was washing them towards the drains. Nobody buried the dead in those days. We were walking among them and stealing their clothes ~ The nights before our departure, London was plunged into darkness. Completely. Paris continued to be lit up with its usual lights. Until November ~ Angeliki is dancing with Christos. Christos is thinking of the room in the military hospital. The war continued, as always, and everyone was ready to welcome the new year. Maria is watching the couples dancing. She is thinking of the snow. She thinks how nice it would be if it would snow in the room. If, suddenly, the snow would fall on Christos' shoulders, on Fidel… On Angeliki and Sophia's hair. Maria is thinking that she would turn into a sitting snowman. The snow would fall slowly at the beginning and would melt. But as always, its persistence would win and it would fill the room. Turning it into a giant glass ball like those snowballs that have a landscape in liquid and plastic snowflakes and when they are shaken, it suddenly snows. If it would snow now, a strange silence would fill the room. Breaths would freeze. The air would be purified. It would be a supernatural phenomenon for our lives. All of a sudden, everyone would be more optimistic. Yiorgos is watching the couples dancing. He is thinking that, sometimes, time stops... And some other times, time is without end. He will go on thinking about that for the next 5 minutes. That's wrong, completely wrong. I lift it up with my hands, with my fingers. It does not work. Those fingers are magical. It has no illusion. It's completely wrong. It works by itself. It does not work by itself. You do not need to do that. It is the 15th day. I'm waiting for you. My plans interest me no more. You vanish and appear without reason. I often have the impression you won't come back. Ever. But, the last minute, we meet by chance, by the lake. We swim. Above us, planes. You say to me... The planes still above us. We lie down ~ In those days, weapons were circulating freely. Even children carried them. They would climb on the rooftops shooting at anyone who went by ~ In those days, the Pope declared that we should continue the fight and show no mercy. In his speech, he condemned mass suicides, the banks and the secret services. I am in front of Manchester stadium. I am thinking of all the Premier league players. I am wondering: can they all be dead? Just like that? Can it be that there is no longer a national team? ~ We were hoping that someone who believed in something would appear and save the world. We were certain that he would. This man never came ~ In those days, the walls in London were filled with a new poster. It was showing a tropical island and had nothing written on it ~ In those days… It was horrible to be 16. Fidel is standing behind me. He is thinking of the walks on the hill. A hill to the west of Sheffield made of clothing, of ruins, washing machines, burned out cars, ceiling fans, of computers, refrigerators... ~ In those days, the Long Marches began. We were sleeping for 3 hours and the next day, we were setting off again. It took us two and a half days to reach Brussels ~ Nobody knew where the front would collapse. Some said in Morocco, others in Syria, still others in Poland. They were right. On November, 30, the Great Fire broke out in Warsaw ~ In those days, we were certain that the war would never end. We were right ~ In those days, we became members of the fascist party. We wanted strength and discipline. We had access in alcohol and weapons ~ We wanted to take refuge in the Wienermeister forest and spend the rest of our lives there. Maria is dancing with Fidel. She is thinking of the street in front of her house. Of the barricades, the assault troops that were marching, singing in the middle of the night, of the... ~ In those days, we were happy. We were writing on the walls: THE OLD LIFE IS OVER, IDIOTS! ~ In those days, we were watching old westerns. We wanted heroism. We identified ourselves with C. Eastwood, J. Wayne, L. Van Cleef. And with the extraordinary film "How the West was won". Nobody understood why the cinemas kept showing these films. Probably to boost our morale ~ Christos is standing behind me. He is thinking of the day when, he and hundreds of others broke into the ruined bookshop at Four Times Square. He managed to steal a recipe book... a book by Netchaiev and the Thoughts of Pascal ~ I am in Thessaloniki. Hundreds of people lying down in front of the Cathedral. From where I am, I can't tell whether they are dead or they are lying in the sun. You say to me: "If I’d kill myself with someone else, I would like that someone to be you". I lost this photo 3 days ago ~ We knew that the war was a blue horse. I am in a car park. My right hand is broken, and with the other, I am holding my son. It was the most beautiful day ~ In those days, football was the greatest entertainment. We were out in the avenues by the thousands playing football. The goalposts were two kilometers apart ~ August 16 ~ In those days, we became members of the communist party. We realised that there was nothing more trivial than the stupid debates and petty bourgeois ethics ~ It is the 15th day. I call you my ghost. You leave and vanish without me understanding why. These walks make me happy. It’s the 15th day and I am waiting for you again in front of the signs. In the distance, the T-Telecom building. It is on fire. It’s the 15th day, we are looking at the lorries of the European army. It was the most beautiful day. It is the 15th day; I do not know if you will come back. I'm going to become the greatest magician of all time. I will make the Great Wall disappear. I will move it to Australia. It will also be renamed. It will be called Fidel Wall. The Chinese will cry. I will become a tightrope walker. A long-distance tightrope walker. I will stretch a rope between the buildings and skyscrapers and I will walk. I will call myself Magic Trio. But I will be alone ~ I'm going to become a hermit. I will be eating roots and bulbs. I'll be sleeping on trees; birds will be resting fearlessly on my shoulder ~ They will erect a statue in the neighborhood where I grew up. They will write: "A really exceptional man was born here." ~ I'm going to found an orphanage in the Alps ~ It will be made of bronze ~ With large gardens of white tulips ~ And people will come and visit it ~ I won't allow the children to walk around the gardens. In the afternoons, I will walk alone. The girls will be looking at me through the windows and say: "Hello Madam". I will teach obedience ~ And I will restore violence into education. I'll create the worst education system ever created by man. My memoirs will be read by all future revolutionaries ~ I will destroy the human being from the earliest age. I will forgive nothing ~ I will be a source of inspiration for human beings ~ I will mistreat my favorite girl pupils ~ I will create a new theory ~ I will learn to navigate a submarine. And when I want to be alone, I will stay in a truly isolated place. I will die happy ~ I will die alone in a huge house. With wooden flooring. My butler will announce my death to everyone. I will come out so that everyone bows before me ~ When I die, all the philharmonic orchestras will play. Simultaneously ~ My funeral will last 5 days. Planes will write my name, making impressive manoeuvres in the sky ~ I will die young, very young. I will become a legend ~ They will all cry ~ I will die happy in a glass coffin ~ On my death, I will put in a mausoleum and people will come and bow down before me ~ When I die, it will start to rain... ~ I will be preserved for thousands of years... ~ For 40 days ~ I will be buried in Copenhagen. In communist Denmark ~ Once the cherry trees are in blossom, we will go for walks in the snow ~ I will live in a small basement. I will be very poor. Poetry will be my only consolation. I'll write poems feverishly ~ I will arrange poetry evenings at St Tropez ~ People will call me Poet Assassin ~ I will invent a new political system ~ My readers will be mad about me ~ They will form a small army. My men will be ready to execute any of my orders ~ One day, I will begin to walk, and humanity will follow me ~ It will be called romantic Macroeconomics. I will lead Mankind towards a new world ~ First the Americans will follow me, a few Belgians... ~ We will have AK-47s and we'll write in alexandrines, like before... Maria is thinking about suicide. She is thinking that suicide is morally unacceptable. That her melancholy is a luxury. Fidel is thinking of the nights in front of Saint Paul. Of the wounded and the helicopters. Angeliki is thinking of Marxism and its prospects. She is thinking that if Karl Marx needed to be assessed, he should be assessed not as a philosopher of the 19th century, but as a man of the 21st who has succeeded, with the help of theoretical resources, to describe this contemporary confusion called late capitalism. At the same time, Angeliki has the feeling that she is living her life in a loop. That her life repeats itself, which is not compatible with Marxist ideas. This contradiction makes her melancholic. In those days, we were dreaming that we were abandoning the Earth. And that we were living in Venus, or Pluto. In a place where it would always be cold and quiet. In those days, as soon as we would hear the planes roar, we went out and danced. In those days, the only thing one could hear was the plane roaring. We were dancing. We knew that our luck had run out. Now, Sophia is dancing with Yiorgos. Sophia is thinking of the last days before the disaster. She was walking alone along the river ~ She is thinking of the crowd at the square and the helicopters ~ Yiorgos is thinking of his bombed house. 15, Heldreich Road ~ In 5 minutes, Yiorgos will think of his father. Of the way he used to speak to him, his caresses, his voice ~ In 5 minutes, Sophia will remember something that she would rather forget ~ There’s no way out! There never has been! ~ Now, Sophia is thinking what socialism is. A manual for a life we cannot live ~ Sophia is thinking that the conflict with history is inevitable. Now, democratic hope is over ~ We cannot revive old habits, restore the old policies. That is what Sophia is thinking about ~ In 5 minutes, she will be crying ~ Yiorgos is thinking that capitalism used to have some very positive elements, such as the hectic pace of life ~ Rapid growth, the free market ~ Competition ~ Yiorgos is thinking of an image. He is alone, he is 5 years old, lost in a supermarket. He realises what earthly happiness is ~ Now, Sophia is thinking of the true meaning of the word "revolutionary" and is wondering if it is a useful word ~ In 1 minute, she will decide. "Revolutionary" is a useful word. Now, Sophia is thinking of Marxism and its prospects. She is thinking that the future will be revolutionary ~ Full of joy, dignity ~ Eros ~ Peace, of love. Now, Yiorgos is thinking that love is the only solution. In 1 minute, this thought will appear to him to be completely stupid ~ If love is not the solution either, then what shall I do? Yiorgos is thinking that he has loved this world more than it deserved. Sophia is thinking that her life is over, that she is tired ~ Sophia is thinking again of those days. Now, she is thinking again what the word "revolutionary” means. What socialism really means, what communism finally was, what fascism has brought that is important ~ Yiorgos is thinking of the guerrilla warfare in the cities. Whether it is necessary, logical, useful, to take up weapons, hide in the city and start the war. In 1 minute, this thought will appear to him to be completely stupid ~ Now, Sophia is thinking of the day she stood in front of Lenin's mausoleum. History is freedom, History is imprisonment. The sky was overcast. It was the most beautiful day. Sophia used to be an archaeologist. Yiorgos used to be an architect. Halfway along the journey of our life, I awoke to find myself in a dark wood. Yiorgos is thinking of Dante's poetry. Halfway along the journey of our life, I awoke to find myself in a dark wood. Yiorgos thinks he has sacrificed his life for nothing ~ Now, Sophia is thinking: "There is nobody to save me. Now people and events are being lost... and the places and myself. I've loved them as much as I could... " ~ Yes. Sophia thinks in a poetic way. Her life has passed her by like a train in the night. A train she has missed ~ Now, Sophia is quiet ~ Now, Yiorgos isn't thinking of anything ~ Sophia used to be a pharmacist ~ Yiorgos used to be a lawyer. Now, Sophia is thinking: "In 5 minutes, the music will stop" ~ Now, both of them are thinking of the nights they danced until dawn ~ Now, Sophia is thinking: "In 5 minutes, everything will be over. I am calm. I am sitting." ~ Yiorgos is drinking water. He is thinking again about revolution. He is thinking that revolution requires people who are virtuous and at the same time, ready to commit any crime. This contradiction makes him melancholic ~ Sophia believes that the time is really ripe for a revolution. But in 1 minute, this thought will seem completely stupid to her ~ It is much too late for a revolution. Nobody believes in anything anymore. Those nights, Ljubljana was full of refugees. We were cycling through it along the river. Those were the most beautiful days of our lives ~ Now, they are all thinking of the houses that disappeared under the sea. Now, they all think that they are sick of our lives. And the lives of those coming after them. Now, they are all thinking what the use of memory is. To liberate one from the past. And from the future. Now, they all know that, for as long as the music lasts, they have nothing to worry about ~ In those days, we knew that we couldn't give up in any case. We did not give up ~ Yiorgos is dancing with Maria. He still thinks that love is the only solution. In 1 minute, this thought will appear to him to be completely stupid ~ We knew that life is sad, but still it is beautiful. We knew that life is magical ~ The corpses at Kollwitz Platz remind me of the corpses at Timisoara and the nuclear power plant in the outskirts of Amsterdam. The guards prevent me getting closer. I vomit ~ I ‘m left here crying for you, my love. Counting the years until I am 70. We never had a son; others have lost a lot more. I will not meet you after death, because I do not believe that's possible. I always think of you when night falls. I see your forehead in the dust. I am happy. We are together again... ~ I am happy. We are in the park again. It is the 17th of July. Colourful banners over our heads... ~ It is the 15th day. I am scared, in those days, everybody was scared. 16th day, I lean over you. 17th day, we are standing by the lake. Behind us, the grave of HeinrichVon Kleist. It is raining. 18th day, we are laughing all the time. We are sitting on a bench. 19th day, your head is on my shoulder. 20th day. Your head is on my shoulder; we are sleeping in the sun. 21st day. Your head is on my shoulder; we are looking at the fire over Kreuzberg. 22nd day. 23rd day. We are together without memories, without plans. It was the most beautiful day ~ In those days, the police... ~ People took us... ~ We were taking pictures in the park. The roar of the planes no longer worried us. We didn't worry about anything ~ In those days, the police... I am at the London underground. The trains are carrying the wounded. It was the last time I saw you. I am at the Republic Square. This is our last meeting. The war... ~ I am at Four Times Square. I do not know how I got here. Everything is in ruins ~ You hold me tight in your arms in front of the station. It is raining. I am sure that you will come back. I never saw you again. I am waiting to meet you. You arrive dressed in a green coat. I am sitting, quiet. You come and sit next to me in silence. Planes are flying over our heads. We both know where they are going... We are sitting there, quiet. It was the last time I saw you ~ I am at the People’s Square. I hold your head in my hands. It was the last time I saw you ~ I write to you because you have asked me to, and because I do not know if we will meet again. I have rented a house next to the cathedral. It is quieter here. We are in a huge queue; it is summertime. In those days, the only thing that worked was a telephone booth in the outskirts of Amsterdam. We were waiting for two days for a phone call. We wanted to tell our friends not to worry about us and that we are fine. It was the last time I saw you ~ The following days, we were looking for some peace of mind. Not for everyone. We didn’t care about the rest. Just for us. Just for ourselves ~ The day Athens was bombed, we were singing the International. In the great fire of London, we were walking across the city with a camcorder. We called the film "PARADISE 4". It was a huge success. In our sleep, we were dreaming we were walking in the streets killing anyone coming our way. We knew that the war was a fantastic machine and that it would never end ~ We recruited in the Red Cross. We wanted to help. We gave up 2 days later ~ We thought that suicide was unacceptable, our melancholy a luxury. We pretended to be mentally retarded so people would feel sorry for us and buy us drinks in the bars. When the war broke out, the trick was no longer working ~ We always kept our weapon under the pillow. We feared nothing ~ We believed that suicide was morally unacceptable and that is why we never put a gun to our heads. We believed that when the war would end, we would have children and live the rest of our lives in the countryside ~ We blew up the Microsoft building and our school. We claimed responsibility. Our friends used to call us Magic Trio ~ We always had with us the list of people we wanted to kill ~ We mixed with the underworld; we lived dangerously in the hope that they would murder us. We were sad ~ I do not know whether I’ve lost you because everything collapsed or whether, everything collapsed because I’ve lost you ~ You are drying my hair, telling me frightening stories. You talk about economy, about the way the past lives on in the present, about ships when they hit icebergs and about how men and women really die ~ We were going to the places where our friends had been killed... We thought that when the war would end, we would have children and would live the rest of our lives in the countryside. We loved this world more than it deserved. For this, we have been afflicted with eternal melancholy. We promised ourselves to no longer fall in love because we found it disgusting. We kept our promise. We realised that only terror could save humanity. One morning, we looked in the mirror and realised that we were completely wrong. We were right. The only thing we loved was destruction. Little by little we became what we despised ~ And then, it was January. The barricades began to fall one by one. We didn’t care about the war anymore. We didn’t care about anything We have never learned... Fidel, Maria, Yiorgos, Sophia and Angeliki are thinking of Zurich and Novi Sad, Athens and the people who got lost so weirdly in the noise ~ In those days, we did not believe in anything. In fact, we never believed in anything. We were naive ~ Now, everyone is thinking that sometimes time stops, and sometimes, it is without end. |
 1 sparkler   2 jazz-suite  Late Night takes place in the early hours in a down-at-heel dance hall. 3 masquerade-waltz  Six actors are on stage. 4 quasimodo-tango They dance, as if they were participating in an absurd competition 5 unhappy-party   They do playback singing, drink or sit in the chairs talking about their wishes and their secret dreams.  6 kesz-az-egesz  From time to time, they talk on the microphone, trying to remember their journey through Europe, a lost love, the days of a European war that is still going on.  7 lovers-are-strangers 8 B2-love Late Night takes place in a ruined dance hall, where everything is falling apart.  ♫ 1. Sparkler - Jeans Wilder 2. Jazz Suite - Dmitri Shostakovich - Aqua De Florida - Pascal Comelade 3. Masquerade Waltz - Aram Khachaturian 4. Quasimodo Tango - Ghedalia Tazartes 5. Thème de Camille - Georges Delerue - Midnight, Stars and You - Ray Noble Orchestra with Al Bowlly 6. Unhappy Party - Yeong-wook Jo 7. Kész az Egész - Mihály Víg - Waltz - Toru Takemitsu - Lassú tánc - Mihály Víg 8. Lovers are Strangers - Chinawoman - Prelude in D minor - Johann Sebastian Bach 9. B2 Love - CURD DUCA - Carnival of Souls - Combustible Edison 10. Japanese Duet  9 japanese-duet  Direction blitz theatre group Dramaturgy blitz theatre group Nikos Flessas Light design Tasos Paleoroutas Music supervision blitz theatre group Giorgos Konstantinidis Choreography – Movement Yannis Nikolaidis Set design Efi Birba Costumes Vasilia Rozana Make up Evi Zafiropoulou Hair styling Chronis Tzimos Assistant director Kiki Rizou Performers Maria Filini Sophia Kokkali Aggeliki Papoulia Christos Passalis Fidel Talaboukas Giorgos Valais Photos Vassilis Makris ↗ Stavros Petropoulos Costumes constuction Giannis Farantos Stelios Karagiannis Eleni Komninou Gerasimos Petratos Ourania Psevedourou We would like to thank Thaleia Ioannidou Kinisi Mavili Drog_A_Tek / Erasers Marilena Orfanou Theodora Christopoulou Rallou Roumelioti Marissa Triantafyllidou Giannis Gaitanidis  Presentation text ↗✈ Napoli Teatro Festival Napoli, 2016 ✓ Barbican London, LIFT2016 ✓ Künstlerhaus Mousonturm Frankfurt, 2016 ✓ Kenter Theatre Istanbul, 2016 ✓ Frascati Theatre Amsterdam, 2015 ✓ HOME WORKS 7 Beirut, 2015 ✓ Théâtre Dijon Bourgogne Dijon, 2015 ✓ Les Scènes de Jura Lons-le-Saunier, 2015 ✓ Thalia Theater Hamburg, 2015 ✓ Les Nuits de Fourvière Lyon, 2014 ✓ Hessisches Staatstheater Wiesbaden Wiesbaden, 2014 ✓ Châteauvallon Scène Nationale Châteauvallon, 2014 ✓ Apollo Theater Siegen, 2014 ✓ Le Maillon Strasbourg, 2014 ✓ Le Trident Cherbourg, 2014 ✓ BOZAR Theatre Brussels, 2014 ✓ Nouveau Théâtre de Montreuil Paris, 2014 ✓ Teatro Stabile dell' Umbria Umbria, 2013 ✓ Centre Dramatique National Lille Lille, 2013 ✓ Festival Theaterformen Hannover, 2013 ✓ Festival A/D Werf Utrecht, 2013 ✓ Festival Les Vagamondes La Filature, Scène nationale Mulhouse, 2013 ✓ Festival Scènes d’Europe La Comédie de Reims Reims, 2012 ✓ Ring Festival La Manufacture de Nancy Nancy, 2012 ✓ Festival Novart La Manufacture Atlantique de Bordeaux Bordeaux, 2012 ✓ Onassis Cultural Centre Athens, 2012 ✓ Tour in France supported by ONDA ↗  Tour Manager Ligne Directe ↗ Co-production blitz theatre group The Onassis Cultural Centre ↗ La Filature - Scène Nationale Mulhouse ↗   |
