by Matei Vişniec
Waiting. The sacred theme of any absurd drama.
Many wise people believe that the human life cycle has three stages: birth, waiting, and death. Waiting in all its endless variants—work, inactivity, long-distance or short-distance running or jogging in place, traveling or dreaming about traveling, sickness or health, either in the comfort of nature or in an enclosed space (barred at times)—invariably arrives at its final endpoint. And this is neither pessimistic nor optimistic. This is simply our encounter with time; time flies inexorably forward, paying no heed to our approval or discontent.
Art is perhaps the most worthwhile emanation of waiting. Maybe it is. But then again, art is the privilege of a chosen few that stirs up hatred at a subconscious level among the waiting majority.
Though irresolvable, the conflict is funny at times.
Enjoy Matei Vişniec and his version of waiting.
On a gloomy rainy day, a man with a newspaper, an old man with a cane, and a woman with a veil sit, waiting for an unspecified something, maybe a train or something else, in the waiting room of a train station. In a corner, a man with a cello is playing a bit of an annoying piece of music. Initially, the three don’t mind the music. Then they begin to ask themselves how he plays without scores, which piece he performs, and whether is he paid to repeat the same tune. At first, they feel slightly exasperated; then grow apparently disgruntled and then completely intolerant of the other, of the artist, or simply of a man living a lifestyle in its own right, different and completely unfathomable. All that remains is the cello and the question of what to do with it. Now that the problem with the man was solved, what about the object?
PhD Svetlana Pancheva
Premiere: 2nd, 3rd 4th and 6th of October 2020