Tod eines Handlungsreisenden (Death of a Salesman) (review)

Tod Eines Handlungsreisenden (Death of a Salesman). By Arthur Miller. Schauspielhaus Bochum, Kammerspiele Theatre, Bochum, Germany. 29 May 2001.

In the midst of German media celebrations of American pop icons Marilyn Monroe and Bob Dylan as well as media laments on the ongoing crisis of contemporary German theatre, the new production of Arthur Miller's classic at Bochum proved quite timely. Not only did the production update Miller's examination of the American dream by relentlessly drawing on American pop culture, especially its post-1968 manifestations, but it also provided a thoroughly entertaining and illuminating evening, belying the doom and gloom surrounding the current theatre scene in Germany.

The director Jürgen Kruse and his production team of Steffi Bruhn (stage design), Peter Bandl (lighting), and Johann-Josef Rosolski (Sound) drew upon Kruse's own 1987 production in Luzern of Miller's masterpiece and fashioned an impressive visual field within the intimate structure of the Kammerspiele. Indeed, one was overwhelmed with a bevy of visual and aural cues even before the performance began. The main curtain was fitted with a large canopy presenting two iconic images: on the one side a classic pose from the American West of an American Indian facing the rising sun with outstretched arms; and to the left of this image, another classic pose of an immaculate 1950s-era delivery/service man in a starched suit, bow tie, and a toothy smile. Opposite these images of the Great Frontier and the Suburban Dream, on the left side of the theatre house wall, hung a huge wooden cutout of an iconic Uncle Sam, pictured with a huge grin, lifting the roof off a suburban, middle-class home. The program notes were not just informative or academic but rather an aesthetic statement that effectively mediated and extended the production. Presenting a textualized form of epic theatrical practice, the program notes offered a dizzying collage of timelines, quotations, interviews, and newspaper clippings with special emphasis given to Arthur Miller, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, and Johnny Cash.

The curtain opened to reveal a bilevel stage cluttered with objects, signs, and messages, and although the stage mirrored the program notes in terms of visual complexity, it was a stage based on a realist rather than an epic theatrical aesthetic. The most visually arresting aspects were located on either side of the stage. Stage right was a large "Aral" gas station sign rewritten as "Banal" with a Rolling Stone logo behind the lettering. Stage left was a large "Shell" gas station sign, rewritten as "Shall" which was later expanded by the words "be released," thus invoking Dylan's famous and oft-covered song "I Shall Be Released." Situated above and below each sign were a balcony and a tree stump, which extended the interpretative and proxemic dimensions of the stage.

Fortunately, the actors were able to negotiate successfully and interpret the complex performance space. Jürgen Rohe (Willy) was understated yet effective. He downplayed Willy's violent outbursts, especially those directed at his wife, and portrayed him in a less heroic and pathetic manner. This had the effect of reducing Willy's presence and allowing the ensemble to fill in the resulting space. Patrick Heyn (Biff) was excellent; drawing upon iconic images of Marlin Brando from the 1950s (tank-top tee shirt and suspenders), he projected the raw athletic physicality which is sometimes undersignified in other performances (e.g. John Malkovich in Schlöndorff's 1984 TV production). Yet this display of physicality did not overwhelm the brooding, lost soul aspect of Biff. Heyn successfully expressed this through movement, gesture, and facial expression, thus producing an intense and divided stage presence. The other members of the ensemble--Manfred Böll (Charlie), Veronika Bayer (Linda), Ralf Dittrich (Uncle Ben), Alexander Maria Schmidt (Bernhard), and Sonja Baum and Julia Bräuning (Ladies of the Chorus)--turned in fine performances. However, Johann von Bülow (Happy) was the most impressive. Similar to Patrick Heyn, he was...