Nothing is masked
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Words were out, masks and mime were in, as Familie Floz crafted its own genre. GOWRI RAMNARAYAN
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Photo: S.R. Raghunathan
Wordless comedy: A scene from “Restaurante Immortale”.
On their first visit to India, for a single performance at the MetroPlus Theatre Festival, the members of the German Familie Floz theatre group plunge happy forks into “all that spicy Indian food” and plan a trip to Mamallapuram. They are
unworried about their evening show. After all, their mask-n-mime classic “Restaurante Immortale” comes to Chennai, trailing standing ovations and rave reviews, from Zimbabwe and Australia to China and Korea.
That evening Chennai knew why. In 90 minutes of non-verbal miming, with nothing but an accordion, five masked actors mesmerised the audience with their perfectly orchestrated visual narrative. Imagine a little restaurant, strung with velvet drapes and chandelier, in the middle of nowhere. Three waiters pirouette around with flower vase and cutlery. They fold elegant napkins only to flash them as weapons in slapping games. The pompous maitre de hotel stumps down the staircase with the menu book, while the fat, temperamental cook bangs the door shut, or pops out with egg cartons.
Chaplinesque rush
From dawn to dusk, the restaurant is full of bustle, eternally getting ready for the customers who never come. At times, acrobatics, slapstick, smile-n-tears Chaplinesque rush past like fast-forwarding film footage. There are moments of hushed quiet when the waiters freeze in a tableau of welcome, holding the curtain open. All that enters is a shaft of light.
This is physical theatre most controlled, sashaying between tragedy and farce, Sisyphean labours minus mythic magnitude. A fascinating twist has doppelgangers sneaking in on each character, adding to the confusion, but also forcing actors and audiences to acknowledge hidden, suppressed sides in the Self and the Other.
The play is over. You go home, chuckling over the ludicrous antics. Then, and only then, do you suddenly remember that the actors wore masks. How on earth did they portray such a variety of feelings, action and reaction? “Restaurante Immortale” makes you experience magic in chaos, and poetry in the absurd.
Why a story of losers? “All our stories are about this,” laughs director Michael Vogel. “Not losers, but normal people who fight, and expect to get somewhere. They do get somewhere but not where they want to go. And in that moment of success you change. You’re somewhere else again. You need a new dream, new direction.” Actor Stefan Lochau agrees. “There’s philosophy here. It’s a great opportunity to share this truth with the audience. Nobody is alone in failure.”
Is Familie Floz a real family? “No,” says Vogel. “Just like-minded people coming together for specific projects.” The name is from their first play about undergrounders springing out of a hole in the earth, where mines have veins (floz) of gold.
Theatre in Germany
“In Germany theatre is heavily subsidised, it’s like an industry, a business firm,” explains Vogel. What binds the group is a dislike of institutionalisation. Everyone in Familie Floz works elsewhere to afford the kind of theatre they want to do: plays that could be done all over the world. Words were junked, masks and mime came in. Familie Floz went on to craft its own genre through seven plays so far. “At first our plays were action packed. Watch our sixth production ‘Infinita’. At times nothing happens on the stage. But something is happening in the audience,” chuckles Vogel.
Traditional theatres use masks for stereotype and archetype. But why should modern productions discard the expressive human face? “Masks set the imagination free. The viewer can create his own images undistracted by the actor’s facial expressions. The actor can make the experience richer. The mask is fixed. But as an actor I can make it laugh, cry… and make the audience laugh and cry.”
Lochau adds, “You can’t hide anything with a mask. Everything that happened to you as actor and character will be communicated to the audience. To use a mask you have to be truly yourself. You can connect with the public at a very deep, intimate level. A mask can also be a disguise to get into a wholly different context.” Both believe that the actor has to discard his ego to wear a mask because it creates a sense of distance that enhances communication.
Masks demand their own precision-driven aesthetics, timing and narrative modes. “It’s a paradox,” Lochau continues. “You close your face and then you’re open to the moment. A mask makes you feel secure. It gives freedom to go beyond yourself.” Vogel cautions, “Some people get free, others feel imprisoned. They are afraid that everyone can see everything about them, because once the mask is on, the body reveals everything. You can’t lie anymore.” The director finds ‘speaking masks’ unsatisfactory but wants to try opera with ‘singing’ masks!
Future shows
Would Familie Floz do a workshop in India? “No time till 2010.” With four groups performing in four different countries this year, besides their regular shows in Germany, Familie Floz has been successful without State funding. “Now we do ask the government for money. But they say you’re doing so well, you don’t need subsidies. And they give grants to unsuccessful groups who maybe don’t do good theatre. I can’t understand the system!” Vogel shrugs. Meanwhile Vogel has new dreams. He wants to find new ways of working with acrobats to do a play on quantum physics, using the circus as a metaphor. From the physical to the metaphysical? Why not? After all, theatre is where miracles still happen.
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