https://handkeonline.onb.ac.at/node/955
http://www.handkedrama3.scriptmania.com/catalog.html
IS THE PAGE DEVOTED TO VOYAGE BY DUGOUT AT THE HANDKEDRAMA3.SCRIPTMANIA
an excerpt, the opening of VOYAGE BY DUGOUT: THE PLAY ABOUT THE FILM ABOUT THE WAR translated by Scott Abbott [translation of this 1999 play completed in 2009, fine work; if you want to get in touch with Scott I suggest you do so via scriptoman @ lycos.com. The right to the play lie with the Suhrkamp Verlag, except those to the translation and a second excerpt further down, inbetwee:
2] A number of German reviews:
ON THE SECOND PAGE DEVOTED TO VOYAGE YOU WILL FIND:
3] My expository note on the play by Mid-December 09 at the latest.
4] An excerpt, the one dealing with Einbaum/ Dugout from J.S. Marcus' notorious NYRB piece.
and probably a few more reviews...
]
Voyage by Dugout
or
The Play of the Film of the War
by
Peter Handke
Translated by Scott Abbott
Premiere
June 9, 1999 in Vienna’s Burgtheater
Claus Peymann, Director
dedicated to the memory of the Catalan journalist Josep Palau Balletbó (and to the theater as a free medium)
Mistakes by others that highlight equivalent errors of our own precipitate a moral disappointment that permits us to assume the strict and noble stance of both judge and victim and gives rise to an inner state of moral euphoria. This euphoria distances us swiftly and surely from the process of personal moral perfection and makes of us terrible and merciless and even bloodthirsty judges.
Ivo Andric, Signs by the Wayside
It is . . . a subtlety that requires discernment and that must permeate the whole; it is extremely important because it alone separates poetic and historical discourse.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Serbian Songs
Da selo sa selom pase. (One village should share pastures with the other.)
King Dušan’s Book of Law, ∫72, Fourteenth Century
JOHN O’HARA, American film director
LUIS MACHADO, Spanish film director
AN ANNOUNCER
A TOURIST GUIDE
A WOODSMAN or VAGABOND
A CHRONICLER or VILLAGE NEIGHBOR
AN HISTORIAN
A BEAUTY QUEEN or PELT WOMAN
THREE INTERNATIONALS or MOUNTAINBIKERS (two men, one woman)
A PRISONER or CRAZY MAN
A MAN BLOWN IN WITH THE SNOW or A GREEK or AN EX-JOURNALIST
A POET (from another film, with CHILDREN, DOG, and DONKEY)
A PHILANTHROPIST (international, silent)
A PRESIDENT or WINNER (silhouette)
SEVERAL NATIVES and INDETERMINATE CHARACTERS
(Double and triple roles)
The story takes place about a decade after the last war for the time being.
The stage directions are not necessarily stage directions.
The stage is the dining room of a large provincial hotel somewhere deep in the innermost Balkans. Absent the tables, some set, some not, the spacious, open hall might well be the waiting room of a train station. There are no doors to the invisible but nonetheless discernible hotel: reception, foyer, hint of a forecourt. The only wall is the backdrop to one side, somewhat distant, remote: the kitchen wall, with two swinging doors, one for delivering food from the kitchen, the other for clearing up; in each of the doors a kind of porthole with frosted glass. The portholes glow, the only brightness in the room; and in the kitchen, which appears to be as large as the dining room, there seems to be something underway. In the restaurant, on stage, as the play begins, the lights now rise, excessively bright lights, exceeding the normal brightness in a hotel reception hall (not to mention the normal lighting of a provincial Balkan hotel). Here and there between the bright chandeliers, spotlights are switched on, some of them hanging, some on stands, for a film? or rather for screen tests. In the center of the now brilliantly lit hall, the spots illuminate a platform, a full dozen steps from the two swinging doors to one side upstage. On the platform, the musical instruments, microphones, etc. are being quickly removed or shoved to the side: making room. Just as quickly, one of the dining tables is cleared to act as a desk or work space – a couple of other tables are pushed aside: making room here too; the restaurant chairs at the table are replaced by two “director’s chairs” with names across the respective backs: LUIS MACHADO and JOHN O’HARA. One part of the wall farthest upstage has been replaced by a huge plastic tarpaulin with the imprint of international organizations (U.N.Q.R., E.F.T.A., U.E.F.A., or whatever), donated to the war-damaged hotel; the tarpaulin moves from time to time, but allows no glimpse outside; in front of the tarpaulin, the only decoration in the hall, an evergreen shrub topped by a child’s glove; lying next to the shrub is a thick tree trunk. Enter, from the reception area and forecourt, LUIS MACHADO, as if from a long walk, jaunty, in a snow-covered winter coat and hat; he takes off the hat immediately, continues to wear the coat.
THE EXCERPT BELOW REPLACES A MUCH LONGER ONE
THAT IS NO LONGER NEEDED NOW THAT THE
PLAY WILL FINALLY BE PUBLISHED
BY PERFORMING ARTS JOURNAL IN
ONE OF THEIR MAGAZINE ISSUES FIRST
SPRING 2012
AND IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN DONE TEN YEARS
AGO, AND WOULD HAVE BEEN IF THE
U.S THEATER WERE NOT SUCH A CRAP HOLE!
THE ANNOUNCER
emerging from the background. The order in which the prospective actors for the film will present themselves has no relationship to the course of the story. The scenes they will play are meant only to set the mood for your joint film. It’s to become your film! There are, of course, certain guidelines set forth by the World Committee for Ethics, by the International Institute for Aesthetics, and so on.
O’HARA
Who is the author?
MACHADO
Where is the author? Where is he hiding?
ANNOUNCER
He is a native, a man from here. He disappeared without a trace; lost.
MACHADO
Is he afraid of his international audience?
O’HARA
We’re less international than he may suppose.
ANNOUNCER
In any case, you are rid of the author. He’s no longer needed. You’re free. He signals for the first entrance and then announces: An old man, a tourist guide before the war – not here in the wilderness, but in the single city worth the name in the theater of war, at least as the war neared its end – a figure respected by all parties, made important appearances in several documentary films after the war, broadly educated, fluent German and English, suffused with central-European culture, bathed in Oriental wisdom –
MACHADO
No adjectives, por favor.
O’HARA
And no commentary.
ANNOUNCER
– will now sketch for you how the various peoples once lived together in peace.
He repeats his signal. As the white-haired TOURIST GUIDE makes a measured entrance through one of the swinging doors, an inscrutable figure wanders in from the hotel hall. He resembles a WOODSMAN or VAGABOND. As the scene continues, he stands in the dining hall near the platform as an observer. The ANNOUNCER gestures, but can’t frighten him away.
TOURIST GUIDE
on the platform. Perhaps project his face simultaneously on a white surface with a video camera. In the first European creation story, the one told by Hesiod, our city is mentioned as a city on the border of the civilized world, as a lighthouse at the edge of barbarian darkness, long before Christ and Mohammed. The first temple of the sun god is said to have stood there, open on all sides, a transit station for various peoples. It was a place of exchange – market place, academy, athlete transfer, a place to broker mixed marriages –, a shared focal point for peace at the onset of history. “Site of the sun god,” and hence our city’s name. Over centuries and millennia it has remained true to that name! The great Omar Khayyám praised it in one of his few quatrains – poems of four lines – in one of his few quatrains not about our mortality and the absurdity of earthly existence. Hafiz compared it to a vineyard that bears fruit even in winter. Spinoza dedicated his ethics to our city, and Shakespeare, as is well known, set his comedy Midsummer Night’s Dream there – although Romeo and Juliette is obviously more topical, don’t you think. For eons our city has been a model for the rest of the world. The Hundred-Years War passed it by, as did the Thirty-Years War. The battlefields of the First World War were elsewhere. In the Second World War it was another, a very different Balkan city that was bombed – by each of the war powers! By all of them! One after the other! Carpet bombing! Boom! Until the end, each people here danced peacefully at the weddings of the other local peoples. That the first person killed in the first war here was a wedding guest – pure accident. What happened to us? What did we do to deserve this? The story of our misfortune began with people who knew nothing about cities. Nothing about our city specifically – nor about cities in general, about metropolises, about the polis, about articulated speech.
Here, approximately, the inscrutable figure who stumbled in from outside, the WOODSMAN, begins to make sounds, “primitive sounds,” as if to himself, playfully....
LOTS MORE AND PHOTS AT:
http://www.handkedrama3.scriptmania.com/catalog.html
INDEX PAGES FOR HANDKE BLOGS
need updating as of August 2011
http://handke-watch.blogspot.com/2010/05/index-page-for-this-and-all-other.html
http://handke-drama.blogspot.com/2010/05/index-page-for-this-and-all-other.html
http://handke-discussion.blogspot.com/2010/05/index-page-for-this-and-all-other.html
http://handke-trivia.blogspot.com/2010/05/index-page-for-this-and-all-other.html
http://handke--revista-of-reviews.blogspot.com/2010/05/index-page-for-handke-revista-of.html
http:// handke-scholar.blogspot.com/2010/05/index-page-for-handke-scholar-and-all.html
http:// handke-yugo.blogspot.com/2010/05/links-page-for-pages-of-this-blog.html
http://www.tagesspiegel.de/kultur/im-einbaum-nach-berlin/80028.html
https://www.berliner-zeitung.de/ein-uebersetzungsfehler--claus-peymann-inszeniert-peter-handkes--fahrt-im-einbaum--in-wien-im-wald-ist-zukunft--auf-der-buehne-ist-theater-16332552
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