The Magician of the Peacock

An elderly lady in a sequinned dress stands on stage – Judy Garland watches the filming of *The Wizard of Oz* as if looking into her own past through a telescope. Deep chasms soon begin to open up beneath this charming premise (a house in Kansas, a little girl, a cute dog). For instance, when it comes to the then 16-year-old leading lady’s use of medication or the numerous accidents on set.

Director Bastian Kraft tells the story in his very own way. One layer is ‘the new play based on the legendary film based on the legendary book. ‘The remake of the remake, and yet the original’: Dorothy is in Kansas and then suddenly isn’t; Dorothy is framed for the murder of a witch; Dorothy sets off with three outcasts in search of a fourth outcast; Dorothy actually murders a witch. Kraft, however, weaves a great deal of background information into the plot. About the disastrous filming of the movie, about Garland’s life and death, about the history of the LGBTQ movement. And once again, he achieves what was already so impressive in *The Little Mermaid*: that characteristic rollercoaster ride between unrestrained, belly-laughs and sudden unease.

Bastian, in both *The Little Mermaid* and *The Wizard of Oz*, you use fairy-tale material to address deeper social abysses and queer history. Is that your trademark?

No, I wouldn’t say that. But I really enjoy starting with a story that many people are familiar with. Fairy-tale material lends itself well to this. On the one hand, it’s often very accessible, but it also offers a great deal of depth and, with that, complex points of connection.

When you staged Max Frisch’s *Andorra* and *Homo Faber* at the Schauspielhaus ten years ago, you were closer to classical spoken theatre. Have you moved away from that over the years?

I first had to pluck up the courage to write my own scripts for larger productions, but I still enjoy staging classical theatre texts and literature to this day.

Where does this love of opulence, spectacle and pop culture come from?

It’s always been there. I just had to allow myself to follow that instinct. In theatre culture, serious and light-hearted themes are usually very strictly separated. But bit by bit, I’ve dared to use a colourful, pop-culture-inspired aesthetic and combine it with more serious elements. It’s a misconception that something can’t be profound just because it entertains!

For me, it’s incredibly refreshing to see theatre that doesn’t take itself too seriously, that presents the magic of the stage without a hint of irony, and where the cast’s enthusiasm for performing literally spills over onto the audience. How do you pull off an evening like that? Does it come about during rehearsals or in your head?

I’m someone who likes to be well prepared. I come up with lots of suggestions, but it’s only during rehearsals that we see which ones work. Experimenting together often leads to completely new or further-developing ideas.

With *The Little Mermaid*, you brought the local drag scene to the Pfauen stage and sparked a real buzz. Was that intended as a political statement from the outset, or did the success itself take you by surprise?

I’d hoped so, because I’d already had success with similar concepts in Berlin and Stuttgart. But I was still surprised by the scale of it. The Pfauen can, after all, be a bit intimidating as a theatre space at first, but drag simply brings with it a whole different kind of fun and accessibility.

In *The Wizard of Oz* too, you captivate the audience with a blend of uninhibited humour and profound seriousness. How do you prevent these two extremes from getting in each other’s way?

It happens very instinctively. For me, both are always present at the same time; they aren’t necessarily competing principles. Sometimes things become funny that weren’t planned that way at all, or you discover a whole new kind of sadness.

Is this lightness actually necessary to make the audience able to cope with such heavy themes at all?

No. There’s no formula for good theatre. An evening that’s thoroughly sombre can be just as powerful; I simply sometimes have this longing for balance.

You use a dizzying array of media, references and stylistic devices, and don’t seem to feel the need to commit to a single aesthetic. Is it gut feeling or a rational decision?

Gut feeling. There are, admittedly, some pieces where I prefer a much more minimalist approach. But when I do opt for this diversity, I go all out. Then it deliberately becomes very colourful, unpredictable and full of contrasts.

How do you actually find your material?

*The Wizard of Oz* had been on my list for a very long time. But I didn’t know exactly how to approach it so that it wouldn’t end up as a family-friendly fabric. I kept coming across Judy Garland’s story, and at some point it just clicked. That’s often how it goes: perhaps I see an Instagram post, or a theme comes up in a new context. And suddenly, all the layers that have built up inside me over time make sense, and I can imagine what an evening like that might feel like.

Dorothy flees from a grey Kansas into a colourful dream world that turns out to be deceptive. How relevant is this material today?

I think this material is so timeless that you can always find parallels with your own present. For me, the longing for an alternative world is central – I’ve known it for as long as I can remember. Incidentally, I believe it’s also what drives us to go to the theatre. Fantasy is often dismissed as mere escapism, yet it actually shapes our world and defines us as human beings! Of course, there’s also the flip side: escapism, turning a blind eye to things we need to confront. But Dorothy moves through a dream world that processes reality. Just like in a real dream.

Whose story are you desperate to tell next, perhaps even in Zurich?

I’m very fortunate that I’ve already been able to do much of what I wanted to do. So I’m open to good suggestions!

Bastian Kraft, born in 1980 and raised in Hesse, studied Applied Theatre Studies in Giessen. He then worked for three years as an assistant director at the Burgtheater in Vienna, where in 2010 he staged Oscar Wilde’s *Dorian Gray* – – a production which, with over 250 performances to date, remains in the repertoire to this day. He directs plays and operas and adapts novels for the stage. His first production at the Schauspielhaus Zürich was Hermann Hesse’s *Steppenwolf* in 2012, followed by numerous other productions, including Max Frisch’s *Homo Faber* and *Andorra*, Thomas Mann’s *Buddenbrooks* and, most recently, *The Little Mermaid*.