76. “The Balcony”
Drama by Gunnar Heiberg
Performance by the Berliner Dramatische Gesellschaft at the Residenz-Theater, Berlin
The "Uninvited" was followed by Gunnar Heiberg's "Balcony". I have a very special relationship with this poet. When I saw his "King Midas" in Vienna ten years ago, I was half crazy. I came out of the theater with an unlimited Heiberg crush. I couldn't go home, I sat down enthusiastically in the nearest pub, had a pen and ink handed to me and stammered words on the paper. - I wrote "The weather lights of a new era" on it. I gave them to a friend who edited a magazine - the kind that a hundred people, i.e. nobody, read. That's when they appeared. Then I went to my friends, all intelligent people. You have to go in there, I told them. They went in and laughed at me. They treated me like a child's head.
I've grown older since then. But the derisive laughter that could be heard continuously last Sunday while the "Balcony" was being played had something hurtful for me. For me, Heiberg is a poet for whom I forgive his vices for the sake of his virtues.
There is Julie, the woman who can love brilliantly and wants to be loved, and who, through the sincerity of her need for love, becomes a cynic in the sense that Nietzsche wants cynicism to be understood. She is married to Reßmann, the disgusting man. With Abel, the scholar, the enthusiast who serves humanity, she cheats on the old disgusting man, Reßmann. When he surprises her with her lover, she introduces Abel as the buyer of the house she owns together with Reßmann. One of the features of this house is the balcony, which is cracked. Reßmann wants to show the buyer all the details of the house. He tramples on the cracked balcony to give him an idea of its strength. The balcony collapses and the disgusted man splits his skull. The lovers are rid of the disgusting husband. Julie and Abel thank the Creator for their freedom with folded hands. That is perhaps crude - if you only want truths for the well-meaning. Why did she marry this Reßmann if she detests him so much? - ask the well-meaning. Perhaps they are right. But rights are as cheap as blackberries.
Abel is a scholar. He works for humanity. He lectures them so that they may become perfect. But his relationship with the love-thirsty Julie grows cold. She is happy with him. But only until the man comes whose passion overwhelms her. A man who has retained his physical strength alongside his spirituality. She cheats on the second man with him. And he behaves impeccably as a deceived philosopher. He resigns himself to his fate. What is the fact that he has lost the heart of his beloved wife compared to the fact that we all have to die one day - that means parting, not only from a beloved wife, but from all the joys of existence?
Smart people have figured out that the drama is a satire on love, and still other smart people think it's a parody of Ibsen's and Björnson's dramatic style. For my part, they may be right. I see in the play a piece of life that takes place between people who follow their hearts. They don't play any more comedy than this imperfect life needs, but this necessary play with all the cynicism it can't do without.
Hans Pagay played Reßmann, the disgusting character, to great effect. During rehearsals, he didn't want to believe that he was going to smash his head because he wanted to portray the balcony to the house buyer as firmly as possible. Through his acting, he also seems to have suggested this opinion to the audience.
The cynical, sincere woman was played by Mila Steinheil with all the subtlety that this role requires. I think people will be talking about this actress for a long time to come. She has an acting power whose limits cannot yet be imagined. She has found her way into the role of Julie, so that one believes the rarest things about her. Not everything came out on Sunday. How could the artists not become self-conscious when people were laughing incessantly down there in the stalls! But at the dress rehearsal, we were all serious, in a very peaceful mood: she played a Julie that we will never forget.
Willy Froböse played Antonio, the third, with whom Julie cheats on the second, 'Abel. One can imagine that someone else, whose individuality is better suited to this role, would bring it out better. But Froböse has achieved something that is at least worthy of recognition. The fact that the audience's laughter muscles were irritated to the highest degree during his performance was detrimental to him. Hermann Böttcher played Abel. I don't think he did justice to the role. It doesn't suit him.
Neither the effort that Otto Erich Hartleben nor Gustav Rickelt had put into the preparation received the reward they deserved. Everything was drowned in laughter.
They sat for days and prepared a serious play, and in reality they had prepared an illusion.