Theatre as Therapy

Further thoughts from Austria:

Was holidaying in Leogang - a small town in the Alps quite near  to Salzburg. Every year a friend puts on some theatre there - all the plays making use of the the landscape (mountains, mines) to tell stories about the area. Often about the 'hidden' past. Narratives that don't conveniently fit into regular perceptions of the country. 

One drama involves the protestants who were forced to pack up their possessions and leave the region in the 18th century - religious cleansing at the hands of the Catholic Archbishop. 

All the stories hint at a lack of honest engagement with Austria's more recent past - but the locals love them. It's a kind of community therapy that brings in tourist revenue too.

Part of the protestant story involves the banished traipsing along the main road through Leogang as they leave the region - with slightly bemused car drivers stopped by police while the procession of actors and spectators make their way past. Compelling theatre.

And also transferable. It would be great to see 'hidden' tales from some of england's towns being told as outdoor theatre. It seems to bring out the best in actors, local authorities and residents - shining a positive light on them all - probably because of their ability to be open to this experience. 

In the case of the leogang theatre, the audience and actors end each show by eating and drinking together. Another great idea.

viennese tale

Just returned to London from the suburbs of Vienna. Obviously the Austrians remain less than keen on their famous sons Fritzl and AH, but the country is still a wonderful place to head to if you want to hear stories of matter-of-fact brutality and violence inflicted upon weaker members of societies (like couples, families and animals). 

Here's one true story:

Hunters were chasing after a wild pig - galloping through the woods - with the pig eventually, desperately turning to the suburbs beyond the trees for safety. The terrified pig skids through the streets until, with the pack almost on its curly tail, it turns into the garden of one of the viennese suburbs attractive detached properties. No time to get its bearings or enjoy its surroundings, pumped with adrenalin, the pig goes full pelt across the lawn and ends up belly flopping into the swimming pool (warm summers - cheaper property prices). The pig can swim but can't use ladders so is basically stuck, hopelessly moving from one side of the pool to the other. The hunters arrive - dismounted as a courtesy to the home owners (though it's maybe better to imagine them all still on horseback - horses leaning into the pool) and watch the pig's terribly lonely journeys across the 15 metre lido. No one is going to jump in to save the swine - so with the distraught home owners looking on (perhaps still in their dressing gowns though it's the middle of the day) - the hunters have to decide what to do. Not for long of course. They soon have the guns out - residents looking on through their fingers (fearful for the pig and the tiles) - and open fire on the pig (a mixture of spa holiday with firing squad finale). The pool turns reddish (one hunter keeps on firing) and the pig bobs in the water. The hunters doff their alpine hats and are off - leaving the couple with a pig rotting in their pool (a week later they take to swimming again - gentle breast stroke, lightly pushing the carcass out the way as they swim past).