REFLECTIONS on 0090 by
Carolina Maciel de França
Triumphing
over linguistic barriers
Having
watched 0090 closely now for over a few months, at first I
found myself inclined to compare them to translators: they
both handle source texts, target audiences, crossing
borders…not obviating the fact that both theatre as
translation have more to them than mere linguistics. A great
example is Sahika Tekand’s PLAY coming to BOZAR. PLAY, already
a tightly timed, rhythmic play on lights when performed
in Turkey, then gave the Brussels audience an additional
bilingual su(pe)rtitling to deal with. Needless to say, the
technicalities of surtitling (i.e. allowing the viewer 6
seconds to read the translation, surtitler’s inability to
anticipate improvisation) were rather incompatible with the
fast-paced product Sahika presented the Belgian
audience.
However,
when ignoring the translation in order to just enjoy the show,
one would find that the surtitling was a mere formality
compared to the whole, as were the dialogues in Turkish for
those who spoke Turkish. Literally on the spotlight here, was
Sahika’s ability to use light to trigger, time and stop
speech, ultimately leading the play on sound and light to
become music. Later, as I walked up to one of the light
directors (Burçak Cöllü) I found out she was actually a
pianist.
The platform’s merit lay, thus, in
discerning the presence of enough elements of universality in
the presented work of art.
The
tongues of a body: Abattoir Fermé (GHOST)
Understanding
how to go beyond the supposed barriers of linguistics, 0090
working with the predominantly visual Belgian theatre group
Abattoir Fermé only seemed logical. In GHOST, Abattoir Fermé’s
usual suspects Kirsten Pieters, Tine Van den Wyngaert and
Chiel van Berkel collaborate with Turkish performer Caglar
Yigitogullari to prove – yet again - that the human body
is one of the most powerful instruments one can use,
regardless of the message you wish to convey.
Almost
abstaining from the use of any language, the four successfully
managed to embody director Stef Lernous’ at times ghoulish
(and declaredly not entirely fictional) visual tour through
the extremes of the Mississippi, Georgia and Louisiana
swamps. Having seen the play in Mechelen (Belgium), I
was confident that it would work just as well or maybe even
better when staged in Turkey.
Always
expect the unexpected
And
just as you were getting settled into the thought of art’s
power crossing a nation’s merely geographic borders, in came
reality. On June 11th, after having faced protests for over 10
days already, premier Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s police force
suddenly opens fire on thousands of demonstrators at
Istanbul’s Gezi Park, literally blowing and wiping them away
with tear gas, water cannons and rubber bullets.
On GHOST premier day June 12th, protest epicentre
Taksim Square (situated little over one mile from
Garajistanbul) awakens empty, with hundreds of injured
to be taken care of. With Erdogan declaring ‘zero tolerance’
towards the remaining protesters and the prospect of more
casualties to come, Abbatoir Fermé felt it inappropriate to
stage the play and advertently decided to succumb under the
weight of national politics and cancel the performance.
Ironically enough, the GHOST posters spread throughout
the city still managed to haunt the city in broad
daylight.
