Im Märzen so wärmig (2003)

(Based on excerpts from Heinar Kipphardt's "March" and on excerpts from the life story and artistic works by the poet Ernst Herbeck)

Fragments of the life and suffering story of the schizophrenic poet Alexander März.

Excluded since birth by a defect called harelip, Alexander März was "different" throughout his childhood and was socially excluded which led him to develop his own language - a secret language with himself.  He said: "when I think of my life, it is as if one thinks of something and then falls asleep again". He experiences and lives a life in a gap, escaping from the narrow confines of society, the "trimmed objects", and the longing for nature where the "air is lighter". Directors Artkamp and Kerklau open their production with a view out of März's window. Huge images of nature are projected onto the screen which keeps his longing to break-out continually present. They also give room to breathe for Märzen's lyrical voice. März, with his simple, poetic, and affectionate texts, illuminates everyday life in the psychiatric ward. This is mostly accomplished, however, in his descriptions of his love to Hanna. "If we were water, we would flow down the green pastures coolly and embraced."

"The dream-like images, stories by Ernst Herbeck, and eloquently staged memories in "Im Märzen" detangle the multi-form career of an outsider, who not only fulfills the contradictions of the world, but also recognizes the beauty of nature and love..."
And suddenly a gate to another world opens. Is it sorrow or is it a creative work on the other side? What is sickness and what is not? Is "normal" life nothing more than a state of coma; between contradicting realities? Somewhere between winter and spring"

The Mother
The mother is milk
a nice warmness.
But one in which you drown

The Nest
Furry and almost warming
Lies the nest on the banks.
Nine eggs lie within
Brown, only one is white.
When the flood finally comes,
one only sees the white one.
Floating in the water

The Plum Tree
On the plum tree hangs
the sweet,
the small,
the juicy fruit
often eaten by wasps.

Love
Love is nice.
Nicer than singing.
Love has two people.
That is love's grief

The Cigarette
There was a boy on the street where
Another boy was.
He lit a cigarette,
The fire started,
The elder burned with him.

Video of the play (13,1 MB)

(Photos: Ralf Emmerich)