p e t e r   s t a m e r

s y b r i g   d o k t e r

a n d r e a s  a.  m ü l l e r


F O R   Y O U R   E Y E S   O N L Y


11 07 2014  20 00

pilet/ticket

for your eyes only 1


concept
peter stamer
performance
sybrig dokter, andreas a. müller, peter stamer
dramaturgical support
christine standfest
light design
andreas harder
length 1 h 15

There is nothing in front of me. There is nothing underneath my feet. There is nothing to my left. There is nothing here. There is nothing beyond the door, nothing the cat is running away with. There is nothing buried underneath the tree. There is nothing bruised, nothing growing in my kidneys. There is nothing funny about a gold fish. There is nothing in the house, nothing in the milky way. There is nothing left to see. Funny

OR YOUR EYES ONLY shows the audience literally without images how the world that so obstinately surrounds us is made: through a just as obstinate play on words that finds its way into the performance as transformed material from the experienced, narrated and discovered, from remains of stories, from the just created or the precisely constructed. In order perhaps even to do damage, damage to the images and fixations of our world, which enclose us or rather connect us: to the simple machine FOR YOUR EYES ONLY. Because what is 'seen' on the stage exists only as a form of our imagination, evoked through random-involuntary settings that produce a real time without a basis in reality – and yet constantly examine truth or the world: as post-epic narration, as portrayal in its smallest dimension.

for your eyes only 2


there is nothing in front of me. there is nothing underneath my feet. there is nothing to my left. there is nothing here. there is nothing beyond the door, nothing the cat is running away with. there is nothing buried underneath the tree. there is nothing bruised, nothing growing in my kidneys. there is nothing funny about a gold fish. there is nothing in the house, nothing in the milky way. there is nothing left to see. funny.

we are demonstrating to a collection of people what takes place in front of our very eyes. the bystanders may ‘see things a different way’; the point is that we act the behaviour in such a way that the bystanders are able to form an opinion about what we see, about what we do, about what we don’t do.

consider: the incidents are very far from artistic ones. the demonstrators need not even be artists. the capacities we need to achieve our aim are in effect universal. suppose we cannot carry out some particular movement as quickly as the victims we are embodying; what we could do is to tell that s/he moves three times as fast, and the demonstration neither suffers in essentials nor loses its point. on the contrary it is important that we should not be too perfect. we should not transport people from normality to ’higher realms’. we need not dispose of any special powers of suggestion.

our performance is essentially repetitive. the event has taken place; even though it is taking place right in the moment we are performing it. however, we are not re-enacting our memory. there is nothing we draw our imitation from in order to make the story-telling more real. to the contrary, there is nothing to rehearse. and yet, there is a lot we piece together, to re-member. our experience is not yours. we only want to mark it, sketch it, give it away.

our illustration is poor. it doesn’t imitate the abundance of life, it rather exploits the absence of things. if we use imaginary objects, tools, weapons, if we sit on imagined chairs or ride taxis, we don’t perform the objects; the objects somehow perform us. we are shaped by them. we are more often pulled by the things we imagine than capable of pulling their strings. we are not puppeteers, even though we sometimes act that way. we are always taking two situations into account. we behave naturally as demonstrators, and we try to let the subject of the demonstration behave naturally too. we never forget nor do we allow it to be forgotten, that we are not only the subject but also the demonstrator.

what the audience sees is nevertheless a repeat. we repeat the theatre at work, the work (and failure) of imagination. we can change scenes in no time. we can reach any point of the world zooming in. we are here (stage) and there (where?) at the same time. having the world right in front of our very eyes and being in it at the same time. yet, having the eyes closed doesn’t mean we are more authentic, doesn’t mean that we are more there, ‚somewhere else’. we are not mediums, no shamans. we can’t summon the world.

our purpose determines how thoroughly we have to imitate. to us the character being demonstrated remains a quantity that need not be completely defined. we need not imitate every aspect of our characters‘ behaviour, but only so much as gives a picture. allowing for a picture of us shaping the situation, depicting the character by ‚his/her’ actions, a picture of us acting it. it can be seen that our streetcorner demonstrations provide opportunities for a pretty rich and varied portrayal of human types. and human deaths. how to die in omsk? life is an accident, to its own end.

we derive our characters entirely from their actions. our point of view is the character’s point of view. we imitate their actions and so allow conclusions to be drawn about them. saying what we do is doing what they say.


a production from peter stamer / GARAGE e.v. co-produced by tanzquartier wien. 
developed at tanzfabrik berlin, weld stockholm, notafe in viljandi. 
supported by hauptstadtkulturfonds berlin. 


kontseptsioon: peter stamer

esitus: sybrig dokter, andreas a. müller, peter stamer

dramaturgiline tugi: christine standfest

valguskujundus: andreas harder


minu ees pole midagi. mu jalge all pole midagi. minust vasakul pole midagi. siin pole midagi. ukse taga pole midagi, pole midagi, millega kass minema jookseks. puu alla pole midagi maetud. miski pole muljutud, midagi ei kasva mu neerudes. kuldkala puhul pole midagi naljakat. majas pole midagi, linnuteel pole midagi. pole midagi alles jäänud, mida vaadata. naljakas.

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY näitab publikule ilma kujunditeta, kuidas on tehtud meid nii kindlalt ümbritev maailm: läbi sama kindla sõnamängu, mis leiab oma tee etenduseks materjaline, mille algallikaks on kogetud, jutustatud ja avastatud; jutukatked; miski, mis loodud siinsamas ning hoolega konstrueeritud. võib-olla isegi kahjustamaks, kahjustamaks pilte ning kinnisideid meie maailmast. pildid, mis pigem mähkuvad meie ümber kui ühendavad meid: see lihtne masinavärk AINULT SINU SILMADELE. sest laval `nähtu` eksisteerib meie kujutlusis, äratatuna läbi suvalis-mittevabatahtlike sätete, mis on reaalaja loojateks omamata samas lähtekohti reaalsuses – ent ikka maailma tõdesid läbi vaadates: post-eepiline jutustus kui iseenda portree enda kõige väiksemates dimensioonides.

näitame kindlale inimeste hulgale, mis toimub meie endi silme all. kõrvalseisjad `võivad näha asju erinevalt´; põhimõte on selles, et tegutseme viisil, mis võimaldab kõrvalseisjatel kujundada oma arvamus sellest, mida meie näeme, mida teeme, mida ei tee.

pidage silmas: juhtumised on väga kauged lavastuslikest. need, kes näitavad, ei pea isegi olema artistid. meie eesmärgi saavutamiseks pole tarvis erilisi võimeid – vastupidi. oletame, et me ei suuda teha mõnda liigutust piisavalt kiiresti, mis on vajalik näiteks kujutatavale ohvrile; mida me saame teha, on öelda, et ta liigub tegelikult nähtust kolm korda kiiremini ilma, et etendus kaotaks midagi oma olemusest või isegi eesmärgi. tegelikult on oluline olla mitte liiga täiuslik. me ei tohi viia inimesi `kõrgematele tasemetele` või publikut `hüpnotiseerima.`

meie etendus on olemuselt kordav/korduslik. sündmus on juba toimunus, mis sest et see toimub käesolevas hetkes, kui oleme laval. siiski me ei taasloo oma mälu. me ei kasuta mälupilte, et muuta loo rääkimine veel reaalsemaks. vastupidi, siin pole midagi harjutada. samas paneme loo osadest kokku, et paremini mäletada. meie kogemus pole teie oma. soovime seda vaid märkida, üles joonistada, anda käest ära.

meiepoolne selgitus/illustartsioon on tagasihoidlik. see ei imiteeri elu küllust, pigem kasutab ära asjade puudumise. kui kasutame kujtletavaid esemeid, tööriistu, relvi; kui istume kujutletavatel toolidel või sõidame taksoga, ei näita me esmeid; need esemed näitavad omal moel meid. oleme nende kujundada. tihti juhivad asjad pigemini meid, kui et meie juhiks neid. me pole nukunäitlejad, kuigi vahel nõnda käitume. arvestame alati kahe olukorraga. oleme loomulikud näitajatena ning püüame lasta esemel olla samamoodi loomulik. me ei unusta ega lase unustada, et oleme nii näitajad kui näidatavad.

publik ei näe sellele vaatamata kordamist. me kordame teatrit töös, kujutlusvõime tööd (ja ebaõnnestumisi). saame muuta stseene hetkega. saame sisse suumida ükskõik mis hetkesse. oleme samaaegselt siin (laval) ja seal (kuskohas?). maailm on nii meie silme ees kui ka ümber meie. silmad kinni olek ei tähenda siiski, et oleme rohkem loomulikumad, et oleme rohkem seal - `kusagil mujal.` me pole meediumid ega šamaanid. me ei saa suunata maailma.

meie eesmärk määrab, kui põhjalikult me peame imiteerima. meie jaoks pole tarvis esitatavat karakterit/tegelast lõpuni defineerida. me ei pea imiteerides laskuma tegelase käitumise kõikidesse peensustesse, lihtsalt tekitada pilt. lubades sel pildil aidata meil vormida olukord, kujutades tegelast tema tegude kaudu. näiteks meie kujutatud tänavademonstratsioon näitab suurt hulka erinevaid inimtüüpe. ja surmasid. kuidas surra omskis? elu on õnnetus kuni selle lõpuni.

tuletame oma tegelased täielikult nende tegudest. meie vaatepunkt on tegelase vaatepunkt. imiteerime nende tegusid ja nii võimaldame teha järeldused nende kohta. öeldes, mida teeme, teeme tegelikult, mida nemad ütlevad.