Stifters Dinge

The very fact that friends sniggered when I mentioned I went to a show called Stifters Dinge (allegedly pronounced 'ding' meaning 'Stifters Things') is to me, a strong indication that (childish) humour is still (thankfully) alive and well.

As part of the 2010 Melbourne Arts Festival, the show has provoked a series of mixed reviews, a common denominator amongst them being a sheer bafflement of what Stifters Dinge is actually about. As such, most of the reviews that I have read have either done well in avoiding the issue altogether by describing the show in its entirety, or have flat out presented the shoulder-shrug equivalent in words.

I went to the show not knowing anything about it, and I left feeling exactly the same way aside from a heightened sense of peaceful confusion. Composed and directed by world-renowned German artist Heiner Goebbels, the show has provoked lines such as: “Stifters Dinge: who cares what it is? It's terrific. Totally mesmerising." (The Telegraph, UK) and "What the hell is going on? This is the question you will ask if you see Heiner Goebbels' Stifters Dinge." (Three Thousand)

Yet, this is a show that has travelled all over the world, from New York to Germany to the UK (and then some), and now here. It was inspired by 19th century romantic writer Aldabert Stifter, who was known to contemplate the vivid imagery of nature in his writing (thanks Wiki!). 

The set of Stifters Dinge, though poetically brute and industrial, has elements that tips its hat at nature. Right at the back of the elongated stage sits a magnificent structure composed of five bare-breasted pianos, which stands at roughly the height of three or so pianos stacked lengthways on top of each other. Placed between them are naked branches and other machinery and mechanisms. Between the structure and the audience are three rectangular lighting pools, which though start off void of anything but a piece of material covering them, is sprinkled with salt during the first five minutes of the show via a gurney-like sieve by two people we never see again.

If you are still reading this, I bow to you.

This is a performance driven by computers and performed by a machine. The words, 'deus ex machina' springs to mind, and the more I contemplate that idea, the more I am drawn by the paradoxical notion of being romantically courted by this cold yet beautifully melancholic production. 

Before going into wishy-washy details, Stifters Dinge is a sophisticated show composed of distorted soundscapes and remarkable lighting illusions, that present the epitome of the influence technology has on theatre. It is also framed alongside audio narratives by William S. Burrough, Malcolm X, Claude Levi-Strauss, and traditional, tribal-like chants from Papua New Guinea and South America. 

Visually, Stifters Dinge is enchanting, spectacular and aesthetically pleasing. Aside from the chanting, Goebbels has created an original score as the soundtrack for the show. Four screens slide down from the ceiling and rest in staggered positions. Music induces the sound of rain, the rectangular pools bubble up to give the illusion of water ripples, and a narrow spotlight from the piano structure penetrates the off-white translucent screens to create the warm, orangey glow of a sunset. The bubbling pools cease, so too does the sound of rain, and all that is left is the residual effect of troubled water, peacefully and subtly undulating above the surface of the pool. This image is reflected on the screens and suddenly, we are presented with a view of the ocean; the spotlight sun resting its head just above a pseudo horizon. 

It is true, I have no idea what the show was about. Whilst it was undoubtedly beautiful and mesmeric, it was also extremely Zen-like, and segue so effortless that at times, I found it quite banal. I can only best describe this show as a novelty performance that eventually wears off and loses its enticing-ness. Besides, what else, deeper than its imagery and distorted sounds was going to keep me captivated? Does the overly cryptic nature of the production limit its entertainment factor? Goebbels has been particularly mum about revealing too much about the show - is it pleasant to enter the unknown only to come out still not knowing? 

If you are still reading this, I bow to you.

To end, watch Stifters Dinge as I doubt you'll experience anything quite like it. It reminds me of that time I was given roasted rabbit's heart to eat - did I enjoy it? Not particularly, but I'm glad I tried it and the experience will always remain in my memory.