Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder, and: Die Mutter (review)

The Deutsches Theater's production of Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder and the Berliner Ensemble's production of Die Mutter offered a fascinating study in contrasts. On the one hand, Mutter Courage represents exile and post-WWII Brecht. Written during the playwright's Scandinavian exile (1938-39) and then given two famous postwar productions (1949/1954), the piece has been received as universal, classical Brecht. On the other hand, Die Mutter is pre-Hitler Brecht, coming out of his intense Lehrstück (e.g., The Measure Taken [Die Massnahme]) and musical-theatre (e.g., Mahagonny) phase. In contrast to Courage, Die Mutter—with its historical time period (early-twentieth-century proletarian era) and its radical Marxist ideology—has always seemed something of a museum piece, and productions of the drama—such as the 1932 Berlin premiere, and later stagings in New York (1935) and Berlin (1951, 1970)—have always faced problematic receptions. Surprisingly, in the end, Claus Peymann's production of Die Mutter trumped Peter Zadek's production of Mutter Courage.

Presented at the ornate and intimate Schauspielhaus of the Deutsches Theater (where the 1949 German premiere occurred), the Mutter Courage production offered spare stage design, minimal orchestration, and restrained acting. The only notable stage props were Courage's wagon and a pile of rubbish, the latter of which grew throughout the production as the former diminished. The minimalist production is canonical within theatrical history and grants ample room for the role of Courage, the iconicity of the wagon, and the general parable effect of the drama. The tragic futility of this effect was emphasized quite well in the final scene as Courage picked up the last remnants of the wagon and ran to catch up with the departing army. However, this was one of the few effective moments in Zadek's minimalist production. Physical theatricality and overall choreography were noticeably absent. The acting was competent but did not seem to add anything new to the drama. Angela Winkler—best known for her starring roles in such 1970s films as The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum (Die verlorene Ehre Katharina Blum) and The Tin Drum (Die Blechtrommel)—assayed the role of Courage. Stepping into the role made famous by Helene Weigel, Therese Giehse, and Lotte Lenya, Winkler chose not to compete with these iconic interpretations, but rather sought a more subtle and modern realization of the role. However, her performance came across as light and insecure—physically, vocally, and emotionally. I am tempted to blame the old albatross—the film actor returning to the stage—because Winkler simply did not seem comfortable onstage and never really projected her character to the audience. Indeed, her best moments were cinematic ones: moments where a close-up effect was created. Aside from Winkler, the cast was competent, with Judith Strößenreuter providing an excellent performance as the mute daughter Kattrin.