— Why did you choose this particular play by Koltès at this moment?
— I’ve always had a fondness for contextual material — and for Koltès — since my student days. His works are rarely staged outside France, although to me, he’s incredibly rich and theatrical. This project started with Ingeborga — we had just wrapped up another production, and the idea came up to reunite her and John on stage. That’s when Roman reminded us of this Koltès play, which he’d wanted to direct for years. As it turned out, John already knew it too. Everyone liked the idea — both we as a team, and the actors.
— What drew you to this specific text?
— First and foremost, it’s a deeply theatrical piece. Philosophical, dense, but full of interpretive space. Two people — a seller and a buyer — meet in an alleyway. They can’t name the object of the exchange, which becomes a metaphor for many things — social pressure, forbidden desire. It offers huge scope for both the director and the actors.
— How did the rehearsal process take shape?
— We started on Zoom — the project began during the COVID period. The first stage was cutting down the text: the original was very long, and we trimmed it by nearly half. Then came the first in-person rehearsal block in Riga — two weeks to start, followed later by another three weeks. It was both demanding and highly technical. From the beginning, we worked with cameras, screens, and live-stage editing. Everything was mapped out precisely — movement, positioning, timing.
— What was the biggest challenge for the actors?
— This was a real test. Firstly, the text. It’s heavy, made up of long monologues with little direct action. Unlike a typical dialogue, which can be built logically, here the actors had to memorise and sustain huge passages of literary language. On top of that, movement was tightly choreographed because of the cameras: they had to hit their marks exactly, look in the right direction, not drift. And all of it had to come with full emotional engagement.
— The play is layered. How would you personally describe its core theme?
— At the heart of it is the idea of forbidden desire. It might be sexual in nature, or something else. But the key is the internal conflict. A person is afraid to admit — even to themselves — that they carry something outside the bounds of societal norms. The play is about those hidden aspects of our nature. Those who don’t fit in. It touches on the eternal topic of taboo, shifting norms, and how they evolve. What was acceptable yesterday might not be today — and vice versa.
— There are visual symbols in the play — children’s shoes, a blackboard, toys… Are these metaphors?
— Yes — and quite layered. On one level, they suggest something criminal, something condemned — such as paedophilia. On another, they point us back to childhood — to where our traumas come from, to the moments that shape our personality. Much of what we hide as adults stems from early experience. These images aren’t just provocative — they’re a way of speaking about the inner world.
— Why did you choose to use such an active visual language — cameras, screens, live feeds?
— I work with actors who can perform both live on stage and directly for the camera. I wanted to use their full potential. The camera offers a strange, distorted gaze — as if we’re seeing the world from inside the character’s mind. It’s not just duplicating the action, it’s a second layer — a visual echo of the internal conflict. It deepens the sense of nightmare and psychological split.
— How many cameras were used on stage?
— Six. They’re built into the set and shift dynamically during the performance. Plus, there’s live editing, sound, lighting — the whole setup works like a proper video production. The full team includes around sixteen people: camera operators, editors, video engineers. It’s a tight-knit international crew that functions as one organism.
— How long did it take to create the production?
— From the first Zoom call to the premiere — about a year and a half. The premiere took place in June 2022 in Riga.
— How is the play received by audiences in different countries? Are there notable differences?
— Audiences vary — some are cooler, some more open. But overall, we’ve not encountered real misunderstanding. In Berlin, the audience is experienced, even jaded at times, but very attentive. Working here is both a challenge and a pleasure.
— What was the most difficult and the most joyful part of this process for you personally?
— The hardest part was the logistics. This was an independent production, and every minute of rehearsal cost money. We had to know exactly what we were doing — everything had to be planned in advance. But the joy was in the people. In how engaged we all were with one another. That kind of atmosphere is rare.
— What kind of emotions would you like to evoke in the audience?
— I don’t prescribe emotions. Every viewer comes with their own experience and leaves with something personal. But if a production provokes a feeling — fear, excitement, resistance — then it’s alive. And that’s the most important thing.
— Do you plan to bring new projects to Berlin?
— Not in the next two seasons. I have upcoming projects elsewhere in Germany, but not in Berlin for now. That said — I know and love this city, and I do hope to return with something new.
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— Why did you choose this particular play by Koltès at this moment?
— I’ve always had a fondness for contextual material — and for Koltès — since my student days. His works are rarely staged outside France, although to me, he’s incredibly rich and theatrical. This project started with Ingeborga — we had just wrapped up another production, and the idea came up to reunite her and John on stage. That’s when Roman reminded us of this Koltès play, which he’d wanted to direct for years. As it turned out, John already knew it too. Everyone liked the idea — both we as a team, and the actors.
— What drew you to this specific text?
— First and foremost, it’s a deeply theatrical piece. Philosophical, dense, but full of interpretive space. Two people — a seller and a buyer — meet in an alleyway. They can’t name the object of the exchange, which becomes a metaphor for many things — social pressure, forbidden desire. It offers huge scope for both the director and the actors.
— How did the rehearsal process take shape?
— We started on Zoom — the project began during the COVID period. The first stage was cutting down the text: the original was very long, and we trimmed it by nearly half. Then came the first in-person rehearsal block in Riga — two weeks to start, followed later by another three weeks. It was both demanding and highly technical. From the beginning, we worked with cameras, screens, and live-stage editing. Everything was mapped out precisely — movement, positioning, timing.
— What was the biggest challenge for the actors?
— This was a real test. Firstly, the text. It’s heavy, made up of long monologues with little direct action. Unlike a typical dialogue, which can be built logically, here the actors had to memorise and sustain huge passages of literary language. On top of that, movement was tightly choreographed because of the cameras: they had to hit their marks exactly, look in the right direction, not drift. And all of it had to come with full emotional engagement.
— The play is layered. How would you personally describe its core theme?
— At the heart of it is the idea of forbidden desire. It might be sexual in nature, or something else. But the key is the internal conflict. A person is afraid to admit — even to themselves — that they carry something outside the bounds of societal norms. The play is about those hidden aspects of our nature. Those who don’t fit in. It touches on the eternal topic of taboo, shifting norms, and how they evolve. What was acceptable yesterday might not be today — and vice versa.
— There are visual symbols in the play — children’s shoes, a blackboard, toys… Are these metaphors?
— Yes — and quite layered. On one level, they suggest something criminal, something condemned — such as paedophilia. On another, they point us back to childhood — to where our traumas come from, to the moments that shape our personality. Much of what we hide as adults stems from early experience. These images aren’t just provocative — they’re a way of speaking about the inner world.
— Why did you choose to use such an active visual language — cameras, screens, live feeds?
— I work with actors who can perform both live on stage and directly for the camera. I wanted to use their full potential. The camera offers a strange, distorted gaze — as if we’re seeing the world from inside the character’s mind. It’s not just duplicating the action, it’s a second layer — a visual echo of the internal conflict. It deepens the sense of nightmare and psychological split.
— How many cameras were used on stage?
— Six. They’re built into the set and shift dynamically during the performance. Plus, there’s live editing, sound, lighting — the whole setup works like a proper video production. The full team includes around sixteen people: camera operators, editors, video engineers. It’s a tight-knit international crew that functions as one organism.
— How long did it take to create the production?
— From the first Zoom call to the premiere — about a year and a half. The premiere took place in June 2022 in Riga.
— How is the play received by audiences in different countries? Are there notable differences?
— Audiences vary — some are cooler, some more open. But overall, we’ve not encountered real misunderstanding. In Berlin, the audience is experienced, even jaded at times, but very attentive. Working here is both a challenge and a pleasure.
— What was the most difficult and the most joyful part of this process for you personally?
— The hardest part was the logistics. This was an independent production, and every minute of rehearsal cost money. We had to know exactly what we were doing — everything had to be planned in advance. But the joy was in the people. In how engaged we all were with one another. That kind of atmosphere is rare.
— What kind of emotions would you like to evoke in the audience?
— I don’t prescribe emotions. Every viewer comes with their own experience and leaves with something personal. But if a production provokes a feeling — fear, excitement, resistance — then it’s alive. And that’s the most important thing.
— Do you plan to bring new projects to Berlin?
— Not in the next two seasons. I have upcoming projects elsewhere in Germany, but not in Berlin for now. That said — I know and love this city, and I do hope to return with something new.
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