spectacol-concert de: Ada Milea
set and costume design: Alexandra Mureșan
consultant: Ernest Wichner
sound adjustments: Victor Panfilov
set and costume design assistant: Cate Cherecheș
Cast:
She: Anca Hanu
The friends on the electric guitar: Radu Dogaru
The friend on the drums: Cristian Rigman
The friend on the keyboard and bass: Mihnea Blidariu
The Mother: Adriana Băilescu
The Agent: Miron Maxim
The friend on lights and technical directing: Mădălina Mânzat
The agent on the sound: Vlad Negrea
It's an attempt to ''translate'' into song a small part of Herta Müller's world, it's the view with which I read her works and the result of the way the poetry of her strong and fragile being made me feel. The small Euphorion studio is inviting the audience into the world we propose, among words, lights, steps, breaths, instruments, happenings, characters and tissues.
Ada Milea
The concert-performance Songs that Scare Away Fear invites us to enter an intimate universe, to explore it empathically and to finally recognize it as part of ourselves. In a captivating musical interpretation of Hertei Müller's biography, reconstructed from various of her texts, Ada Milea constructs a story in verse about the suffering of exile, about the distorted forms that love takes in a world of extremes, and about coming to terms with our own small personal histories, especially under the pressure of the big, often unscrupulous, history. She (Anca Hanu) lives her life under the spectre of a war that is already over, but which has left in its wake the almost equally destructive force of the communist dictatorship. The characters who live in the protagonist's memory become extensions of her being, constant presences, either tender or threatening. Although today's spectator lives in a seemingly different and distant reality, the performance demonstrates the universality of fear and the therapeutic power of hope.
The performance is inspired by texts from the following works:
Immer derselbe Schnee und immer derselbe Onkel (Always the Same Snow and Always the Same Uncle) by Herta Müller
After a long stopover in classical, Romanian and universal comedy, Ada Milea was inspired by the writings of Herta Müller, the 2009 Nobel laureate, and has reworked (how else but in her own personal style?) fragments of her literary work. Fragments from the biography of the Romanian and German-language writer, who emigrated from Romania in 1987, shortly before the fall of Ceaușescu. The harsh and nostalgic truths about her childhood and life in Romania are set on notes of warm melancholy and candid melodicity, brought together under the title Songs that Scare Away Fear. [... ] The evocation of the icy atmosphere of the dictatorship years reminded me of more or less successful stagings from past seasons of the National Theater in Cluj, such as Amalia Breathes Deeply (directed by Alina Nelega, 2014), where Anca Hanu was an adorable leading pioneer, or Alone on the Yob Front (directed and choreographed by Andrea Gavriliu, after texts by Florin Bican, 2019), comic sequences built on a parody of patriotic songs and ridiculous phrases, slogans typical of the time. Ana Hanu's vocal qualities were also exploited in the grotesquely comical role of Chirița, already mentioned. In the current premiere at the National Theatre in Cluj, the talented actress adds to her subtle humor the finesse of a poetic sensibility wounded in the battle with the devastating reality. But not the objective, physical reality, but the social one, maintained with the brutality of a punch in the mouth.
Anca Hanu, an actress with a multifaceted talent, with an unignorable voice that glides between sensibility and parody/playful (when the text demands it). She has the strength of candor, which preserves her dignity. Ada Milea's shows cannot shine without Anca: versatility, vitality, aplomb, virtuosity. The performance is absolutely necessary: to not forget the horrible fear. We know well: those who forget the past risk reliving it.
Therefore, the performance Songs that Scare Away Fear shows that in life you can make mistakes, fall, but in the end fear is frightened by strong characters and the skill with which the show's team kept everyone's attention alive during an intense hour of awareness of the reality around us.
Born in 1953 in Banat, in a German community, the novelist, poet and essayist Herta Müller experienced early on the injustice and persecutions of the communist regime. Under constant surveillance from Ceaușescu's Security Service and being subjected to constant taunting for her literary activity and for her connections with the dissident group Aktionsgruppe Banat, the author left Romania in 1987 and moved to Berlin. Her work, regardless of the genre, is defined by a kind of poetry of fragility, which exposes the pain of oppression and exile. Herta Müller was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2009.
A fragment from Herta Müller's speech on March 15th, when Romania was an invited guest at the International Book Fair in Leipzig (translation from German by Corina Bernic):
"All of Ada Milea's songs - and I mean all of them - make me think that life, no matter where and how, is like a carnivalesque flea market. And who knows whether each of us chooses their own cradle or whether we are all thrown together in the same metaphorical cradle, when, at times, we feel we have lost all solid ground. Or maybe both types of cradles are present in everyone's life? [...] Ada Milea has created an unprecedented musical genre in Romania. It is political poetry and poetic politics. Romania is truly fortunate to have her, due to her art, as well as her personal integrity. The latter is, in Romania, just as important as the former. She would have been successful anywhere in the world, but she chose to stay at home - carrying the border with her."
A Conversation with Ada Milea
Emma Pedestru: What attracted you to the universe of Herta Müller's work?
Ada Milea: The poetry that cuts to the core of things and the simplicity of such a complicated world. To me, Herta Müller is not unlike Gellu Naum. I read both of them in a manner that has nothing to do with literature. I don't know how, because I have no words to express what I mean, but the closest translation would be: "I read them directly with my heart".
E.P.: How did you turn prose into music?
A.M.: I changed my mind several times, I hesitated a lot and I was afraid that any song would dilute the text. For three years, I took Herta Müller's books everywhere with me, regardless of where I was going and what I was working on, regardless of whether I had any hope of actually having the time to open a book and read. It was difficult to select the texts. I read and reread them multiple times, I wrote on the books until my notes were overlapping with my older notes, but I knew from the very beginning that I wanted the intimacy of a small space, where each breath can be felt, each subtle look can be perceived, and each whisper can be heard.
E.P.: How did you choose the texts?
A.M.: I wanted to paint Herta Müller's portrait. I wanted the spectators to "read" her through my eyes and to see beyond the image that has been created for her. I chose a lot of fragments, way too many, but I couldn't make them sing. Any attempt seemed ridiculous to me. This was the moment when I started taking the books with me: while working on different projects, while performing, I even took them with me on holiday... I would open them, but I couldn't make them sing. I kept trying to design a show... I kept changing it... Today it makes me laugh to think of those lame attempts. At a certain point, while talking with Alexandra Mureșan (the scenographer), things began to make sense. She wanted to make objects out of which the light could extract words. For instance, to cut out the bottom of a drawer, spelling out the word "snow", so that we could see it - written in light (on the floor) - each time the drawer opens. Alexandra's world of words helped my words sing.
E.P.: What is the common denominator of the texts and how does it appear in the show?
A.M.: She is. We didn't call her Herta, but rather "she". Anca Hanu is an extraordinary actress. I couldn't imagine anyone else in this role. She is so creative, profound, and playful... She understands Herta Müller's texts so well... She feels their depth, fragility, force...
E.P.: To what extent do you think that today's public can empathize with Herta Müller's very specific world?
A.M.: To the extent that we are all concerned with life and death, fear, and joy, to the extent that we all have or had a mother (present, absent, loving, tough...), that we all speak and use words to do so... I relate to absolutely everything in these songs that take up almost one hour.
E.P.: How much did you stray from the already-established stylistic preferences of the theatrical milieu in Cluj?
A.M.: I don't really know if I strayed from a stylistic norm or not, I am simply trying not to betray the authors.
E.P.: In your show, words become symbols and even "escape" from the text per se. How would you describe their force in extreme situations, such as those that the author lived through?
A.M.: My relationship with the texts is very simple: I strive to express (with my words) the authors' ideas without "beating around the bush" in the name of rhyme or to desperately try to make a song longer. All words are important and powerful because they express something. When an idea is complete, I have also run out of words. The force of words... Hm... In Herta Müller's case, their force hides within fragility and the "gentlest" words "hit" you the hardest.
E.P.: What are the fears that you'd like to scare away?
A.M.: The fears of each spectator. We all have our own.