Berlin theaters seem to have discovered their preference for the wet element. While you can splash around in the most absurd debate pool in recent theater history in front of the Berlin Volksbühne until Thursday, the Maxim Gorki Theater invites you to discover the meditative power of water. In the redesigned foyer there is a long table with a stream. Where the animated chatter of premiere guests in the dressing room queue could otherwise be heard, a quiet rippling now fills the room. They are vibes that bring to mind wellness oases, things like Zen retreats, inner journeys and healing through meditation.
“Let go completely, just look at the color,” a friendly employee invites you. It's a weekday afternoon and only a few people have found their way into the Gorky Theater. This may be due to the large and uninviting construction site, behind which the historic Schinkel building between Humboldt University and Berlin Cathedral almost disappears. Or the fact that spoken theaters are rarely open during the day for art installations instead of putting on performances in the evening. An art exhibition in the theater? This is unusual.
The new director Çağla Ilk is turning a lot of things upside down at Gorki, as it is also called in Berlin. There is no longer any talk of the post-migrant theater with which her predecessor Shermin Langhoff made the house famous. Ilk wants to bring more art to the Gorki – and it shows. Instead of a big opening weekend with premieres, Ilk invited the conceptual artist Sarkis, who is not particularly well-known in Berlin or in the theater, to play in the house. The result is called “Fuge” and extends across several rooms, from the foyer to the large hall to the foyer.
Sarkis, who was born in Istanbul in 1938 and has lived in France for decades, was last exhibited in Baden-Baden three years ago. Curator at the time: Çağla Ilk, also the co-director of the Kunsthalle Baden-Baden. Now Ilk, who was born in Istanbul in 1976, has also given the artist a theater as a stage. Sarkis' installation includes not only a photo gallery with images of disasters or a light installation with the number 19380 ("The number 1938, which refers to Sarkis' year of birth, becomes 19380 and changes the temporality of his life," the information sheet reveals), but also stage sets by the Polish theater avant-gardist Tadeusz Kantor, who died in 1990, and a huge sculpture on the revolving stage. And a watercolor workshop.
Back to the foyer, which is now called the gallery, where you follow the employee's invitation and stand at the long table. Brushes, paint and bowls filled with water are available. If you dip the brush into the water, colorful, twisted streaks are created. The watercolor ritual is advertised as a “color meditation.” Release. Just watch the colors. And ask yourself whether this is still art or occupational therapy for artists threatened by unemployment. With a few exceptions, the company's previous ensemble was not extended by Ilk, and nothing was taken over from the repertoire. A violent cut that is almost lost in the meditative babbling.
Standing on the revolving stage, where a chandelier made of bird feathers descends over a skull made of colorful mirror pieces, you learn that this art captures the cosmos. Everything is spinning. On and on. A chime sounds, it is a composition by John Cage. They also tell you that once a week the artist himself comes to play a few notes on the keyboard instrument at the back of the stage. In the upper tier you can see a reconstruction of a stage set that Kantor used in 1944 - for a performance of "Odysseus", which could only take place in private rooms due to the Nazi occupation of Poland.
It is not without charm to stand in the middle of the art installation and look into the stage tower, where the machinery for the performance is hidden. This much can be said: the exhibition spaces here are more exciting than usual in the museum. They remind us that the building was used as a theater. A look at the schedule reveals that we will have to wait some time until the big stage is played again. Ulrike Ottinger will not be staging “Das Hörrohr” until December; before that, there will be another installation, “In the Corpse of the Present,” which will be spread across the house. In the end, despite all the color meditation, you leave the new Gorki pretty perplexed. Or maybe you just need to let go?
“Fuge” can be seen in the Maxim Gorki Theater Berlin until October 11, 2026.
