“Millennial History” and “Symphony of Progress”: Access to Reality through Contemporary Theatre

(upper side: Symphony of Progress; lower side: Millennial History)

“Do you think we are naïve?”
“No. Naïve is a too diplomatic term. People is ignorant. [sic] Misinformed, uninterested. Not naïve.”

A brief exchange as such is what has stuck with me since going to the documentary-concert Millennial History (Resonate Productions, Netherlands), at the beginning of this month. Those same lines resurfaced even more prominently while attending a radio-like play called Simfonia progresului / Symphony of Progress (HAU Hebbel am Ufer, Germany & teatru-spălătorie, Moldova). Both performances were part of the National Theatre Festival held in Bucharest (5-13 November 2022) and they have ended up reminding people that contemporary theatre has different purposes altogether, namely to be – or feel – real. To openly address political and social issues. Ultimately, to urge the members of the audience to step out of their wilful blindness.

The two shows do have different origins and are centred around separate matters. Millennial History began as a podcast and has gradually morphed into an assemblage of musical pieces and real interviews (only in audio format) with millennial individuals. The featured people recall their childhood years as they had been shaped by their corresponding social and political contexts. Through these personal stories, the following historical events are covered: the murder of Giovanni Falcone, an anti-mafia judge, in Sicily, the Troubles in Northern Ireland (a conflict between Catholics and Protestants, regarding Northern Ireland’s relationship with Great Britain), the aftermath of Decree 770 (a decree from communist Romania, banning any form of abortion or birth control) and the Fall of the Berlin Wall (leading to the unification of East and West Germany). It’s a well-known instance of microhistories reconstructing the essence of macrohistories in various parts of Europe. As bits of these interviews unfold (accompanied by projected photos at times), the performers of the documentary-concert – Andrea Voets (playing the harp – and she is also the one who had come up with this entire project), Sarah Jeffery (recorders) and Luke Deane (keys) – ensure the musical backdrop through their instruments and live vocals (a section of the concert can be watched here).

Music neither takes over entirely nor “dictates” how the audience should feel, for the stories are, indeed, powerful enough to maintain the viewers’ attention and generate responses. What the soundtrack seems to accomplish, on the other hand, is the complete creation of a bitter, gloomy compilation of stories, but with a heroic build-up. As lines are occasionally echoed by the musicians and are given a harmonious development, we may think how frequently we handle past traumas and present consequences through stories / shows that we design in our minds, wherein we see ourselves as victims and, later on, as conquerors. The feeling of heroism arises not only when we actively try to make sense of what’s happened to us (through artistic, private representations, initially), but also (and especially) when we do speak up and share our stories with someone else. For certain struggles can’t remain internal; they are bound to extend beyond our mental confinements.

If Millennial History may suggest, with the aid of music, an inward-outward direction (from compression to confession), Symphony of Progress may be built upon an opposite route. The show’s sounds are generated not just by the rhythmic beats of a synthesizer, but also by the whir of actual drills. Once again, harmony is gained, although, at the core of it, the symbolic aim is to make us fully conscious of the hubbub and humdrum of our everyday lives, a background noise we’ve grown accustomed to, the commotion of our work environments (mostly when it comes to manual labour). The performers, Kira Semionov, Doriana Talmazan and Artiom Zavadovsky, bottle the external cacophony, process it internally, notice its similarities with their own simmering thoughts and release it once again, this time around as a “symphony”, through which they get to state their personal experiences as immigrant workers (in Germany and Finland, in particular).

What they touch upon is the clash between the West and the East (in an European context), the exploitation of second-class citizens, occurring hand-in-hand with technological advancement, more specifically the rise of algorithms which impose unrealistic standards upon workers. It all goes up to the point where the employees barely have lunch or bathroom breaks, work more hours than the number specified in the contract and, on top of all, receive incredibly low wages. Interestingly and yet, not surprisingly, the heroism that can be achieved in Millennial History (through the mere act of speaking up) is not much of a viable option in Symphony of Progress. The three performers let the audience know that, despite their best efforts, they haven’t yet managed to speak to their employers on the same level. When workers declare that even the most basic human rights are violated in such poor working conditions, the authorities unashamedly indicate that the system is not flawed and instead, there may be a problem with the workers themselves (and, as a result, they can leave whenever, for the tragic reality is that they are made to be easily disposable).

Having outlined the atmosphere of the two productions, I can return to the short quote I’ve placed at the beginning of the post. Why has it turned out to have more reverberations than I would have anticipated? It seems to encompass two main aspects about contemporary shows, in relation to their layout and overall function. In many ways, what we get to see in both performances, centre stage, is what would have traditionally remained backstage or at the margins. The technicalities of the show are thus brought forward, under the spotlight, and people directly witness what has always made a typical play come alive (in other words, the usual behind-the-scenes work, mostly having to do with music in this situation). What also happens is that the people coming out from the “shadows”, from behind the stage, are naturally given the possibility to present their own roles and significance. At an even higher level, they also provide a space for other underprivileged or silenced individuals to voice their worries towards others’ indifference. Their dissatisfaction towards others’ deliberate ignorance and disinterest in past events (in Millennial History) and present circumstances (in Symphony of Progress). What is victorious for some may mean a complete defeat and lack of orientation for others (Millennial History); what is deemed as progress by some may be seen as a deterioration of humanity by others (Symphony of Progress). Both performances ultimately pinpoint the general façade of our daily lives:

“When you’re a civilized person, you give soap to the poor, despite the fact that they don’t have access to water in the first place.” (Symphony of Progress)
“We do plenty of not caring about other people. We go out of our way to do huge, beautiful things that help people, but we don’t do the things everyday that help people. It’s such a small thing to do to just ask: are you okay?” (Millennial History)

The last question, “are you okay?”, is meant to instigate an actual inner search among members of the audience, alongside a set of questions from Symphony of Progress: “Are you not essential? Are you not productive? Are you not enough? Are you not efficient?” While those are expressed rather tongue-in-cheek (as an ironic allusion to corporations’ disregard of feedback, insincere concern towards workers and futile hype around self-care strategies and mantras), the “are you okay?” from Millennial History is genuinely asked (and as a viewer, you can see the three musicians passing the question to one another and answering it in equally honest terms). It is necessary to point out how neither of these performances is meant to supply us with clear-cut solutions. After watching them, one can easily (choose to) remain as ignorant as they were before, downright refusing to acknowledge reality as it is. Plenty, however, will be marked one way or another. They may turn their glances inwards, ask themselves how they are feeling and then do the same with fellow individuals. They may re-evaluate the manner in which they treat those around them and put in the effort to be additionally kinder to everyone, including themselves. They may get the impulse to keep fighting for their rights whenever they are treated unfairly. And if that doesn’t work, they may at least rely on the power of storytelling on a contemporary stage and trust that the unfathomable can be conveyed through a constant reinvention of theatrical plays. In the end, every now and then, it may be enough for people to be given the mere chance to overtly talk about issues of all sorts, “in a way that heals rather than creates more wounds” (Millennial History).