Brechts Gespenster

Do ghosts exist, even if one does not believe in them? Those who answer this question in the affirmative acknowledge that ghosts have a reality of their own. The skeptics, who answer in the negative, constitute the majority in a secular society. For them, it is belief alone that gives the supernatural its existence. Today, ghosts are man-made. Once upon a time, the specter of communism haunted Europe. For several years now, people have frequently lamented the specter of populism. Heiner Müller wrote a play titled “Germania: Three Ghosts at the Dead Man’s Bedside” (1996), and he famously claimed that theater is a dialogue with the dead. In doing so, he articulated an obvious truth. Since ancient times and the days of Shakespeare, the theater stage has been brought to life by revenants, ghosts, and demons. The most famous theatrical ghosts are well known. Hamlet’s ghostly apparition sets the tragedy in motion, and Faust’s conjuring of spirits marks the beginning of his pact with the devil. Ghosts have played a leading role ever since theater began. And ever since humans have existed, there has been a belief in ghosts. Yet it would be an oversimplification to limit this belief to the delightfully spooky hauntings in an English castle. Ghosts dwell in the mind of every person when they have premonitions, are driven by addictions, or follow a fetish. Everyone knows about the ghosts that act as invisible forces in our thoughts and actions. And surely the vast majority have at some point experienced a ghost that appeared to them. It therefore stands to reason that the omnipresent ghostly also serves as a metaphor for the many phenomena in which a voice seems to speak that is not of this world. In a famous example, Marx attempted to grasp the mystery of the commodity using theological turns of phrase. A piece of wood becomes a table. A table becomes a commodity. And the commodity is turned into a fetish to increase its value. This threefold transformation cannot be explained solely by the craftsmanship of the carpenter and the merchant. In its form as commodity value, the table plays a dual role that anticipates much of Brecht’s theater. For the table is no longer merely an object for use, but also a phenomenon that presents itself well on the stage. The table is not just a silent servant, but also a being capable of transformation. The table as a commodity is an actor who plays its role as an object of desire so well that a high price is paid for it. A dead piece of wood is thus capable of all manner of transformations when it enters the stage of the market. Ever since Marx described these transformations, anyone who wishes to fathom the secrets of the commodity and its value must descend into the abyss of superstition. Bertolt Brecht’s theater sought to be a theater for the scientific age. To reveal the ghosts at work in capitalism, he had to dispel the dusty spirits of psychological drama and the old heroic tales. Light and clarity were to reign on the stage of epic theater so that the new ghosts might become visible. After returning from exile, he founded the Berliner Ensemble, with which he was finally able to stage his own plays in 1954. At first glance, the Theater am Schiffbauerdamm seems like the least suitable building for a theater of the scientific age: an auditorium full of plaster figures, red velvet, and gilded stucco. Yet it was precisely in this enchanted cave that he celebrated his greatest success with the premiere of “The Threepenny Opera” in 1928. And it was to this place, whose architecture radiates the very opposite of Brecht’s austerity and sobriety, that he wanted to return. Brecht leaves the false facade that had enchanted the citizens of the 19th century untouched, merely drawing his famous half-height curtain once across the stage. In this way, he creates a boundary between the magical realm of the old theater and his research laboratory of the new era. At the Berliner Ensemble, he was able to bring the figures of the past and those from a fabulously invented present onto the stage. And they appeared in such a way that they sought to reveal the hidden mechanisms of their lives. The ghosts of life are the stuff from which epic theater—like theater of all times—is woven.But Brecht’s dialogue with the ghosts was just as intricate as what Werner Heisenberg once articulated in his defense of the horseshoe above his door. When asked if he were superstitious, he gave the famous reply: “Of course not. But I’ve heard that it helps even if you don’t believe in it.” One could hardly describe belief in ghosts more aptly in a secular age. One does not believe in them, but one does not want to fall out with them either. A masterpiece of dialectical disbelief. Those who practice their disbelief with such confidence and humility may find the lucid approach that Brecht found in dealing with the ghosts of his past. For future generations, Brecht’s theater is both a warning and an inspiration. That he himself has become a ghost of the Theater am Schiffbauerdamm can therefore be seen more as a blessing. For perhaps he is still at work here, even if not many believe in him anymore. by Bernd Stegemann