Hanoi

Germany and Vietnam – two cultures that clash and have much to offer one another. This is clearly perceptible at the ambitious theatre project “Der durch das Tal geht,” which the Goethe-Institut will premier next week to complete the Year of Germany in Vietnam and thus the celebration of the resumption of diplomatic relations 35 years ago. In the libretto, the eminent playwright Tankred Dorst deals with Parzival, Pierre Oser wrote the music and the director is Beverly Blankenship, who caused a sensation in Dortmund with her production of Don Giovanni. A look behind the scenes at turbulent rehearsals.

The driver of the Goethe-Institut Vietnam stops in front of the Hanoi Opera House, a magnificent building in the French colonial style that illustrates why the Vietnamese capital is also called the Paris of Asia. While scores of motor scooters zip past beeping and with breakneck manoeuvres, he pulls a large box out of the boot – a fan heater for the artists. It is bitterly cold inside the opera house at nine degrees and high humidity. For days, the temperatures have been unusually low for Hanoi and the buildings are not heated. The artists, running busily to and fro, are wearing thick down jackets, caps and gloves. It is a bizarre sight between the grandiose balconies and red velvet seats. “This is the first opera I’ve directed in a hood,” says director Beverly Blankenship. She is standing on the stage trying to survey the goings-on. The international production team and the approximately 100 Vietnamese artists have been rehearsing since November and have only just moved to the stage in the opera house.

It is a challenge. “You can’t compare it with European conditions,” says choreographer Henning Paar, who, with the “very good” dancers, is overseeing the most disciplined artists in the project made up of opera, acting and dance. The opera house is just a building with no permanent staff; for each production not only the performers, but also the equipment and technicians have to be acquired. The orchestra pit is too small for the over 50 musicians, who are now playing behind an opaque curtain at the rear of the stage. This means that musical director Pierre Oser can only see the actors via monitor and vice versa.

“It’s an experience that demands a great deal of flexibility from everyone,” says Dr. Almuth Meyer-Zollitsch, director of the Goethe-Institut Vietnam. Besides the language barrier in the production, in which German is sung and Vietnamese spoken, the theatre and music traditions and artistic training are also fundamentally different. Pierre Oser had to get used to the fact that the musicians focus less on their blend than on their individual playing. The chorus and singers were confronted for the first time with having to act while singing. And voice coach Silvia Mödden, who was originally only hired to teach the Vietnamese artists to pronounce their umlauts, had to teach them some fundamental vocal technique. Classical singers in Vietnam frequently learn their repertoire from CDs and YouTube; they need clear models they can imitate.

“However, we can’t afford arrogance here,” says Almuth Meyer-Zollitsch. The time and money for good artistic education are lacking in Vietnam, which only recently took the hurdle from a developing country to a rapidly growing industrial nation – albeit under a Communist government, which cares little for democracy. An orchestra musician earns a little less than 170 dollars a month on average; they typically have side jobs in T-shirt factories and as vendors. The fact that the Goethe-Institut’s project ensures lasting qualifications convinced Almuth Meyer-Zollitsch to hazard the high costs – as the highlight of the programme “Germany in Vietnam 2010” with 100 events and a total budget of 1.2 million euros.

The work has taught the production team a “little humility,” according to director Blankenship. “We are completely spoiled,” says Pierre Oser of the German theatre landscape. He has worked in Vietnam a number of times and struggles with the boundary between demand and reality. “We ask ourselves whether things always need to be so perfect,” explains scenario editor Christoph Maier-Gehring. Oser admires the improvisational talent of the Vietnamese just as Blankenship does. “They are very bold with their work and always try to manage it somehow. They change us and we change them.”

The director has become very fond of the artists and found “a second home” in Vietnam. At the beginning, she was sceptical whether the story of the Parzival, who leaves his family to travel the world and prove himself, would really be suitable in Vietnam considering the very different culture. “But now that we’ve even survived the traffic here, I think it is definitely the case. Our greatest asset is our collaboration.”