Monodrama by Astrid Kohlmeier

English by Peter Horn

© Per H. Lauke Verlag Hamburg)




(The doorbell rings. The man smiles. He does not open.)


THE MAN WITH THE BALLERINAS, the red ones. I now think that he is one of those who would live long enough to say: back THERE, THERE LIES ANOTHER ONE. It is one, who puts the rope around my legs or fetters me for my own protection. Or hangs next to me, hangs himself next to me. The man with the ballerinas, the red ones. HE IS ONE OF THOSE TO WHOM I WOULD LISTEN WHILE GROWING OLD, no matter how he is changed, I WOULD ACCOMPANY HIM IN HIS DECAY. I would have to endure to hear, that there would be a final chord for him. I would make him believe that he would never die, die away. I would laugh, when he is about to kick the bucket of this world. FOR HIM, THE MAN WITH THE BALLERINAS, the red ones, I WOULD GIVE DEATH A SOCK IN THE KISSER. I don’t want to hear anything from him. Except the truth and there are many truths. I know, I could not care less, whether what he and this woman do to each other is right, whether they blow each other up into the air. IT IS A TRUTH. ABOUT HIM AND ME, THE MAN WITH THE RED BALLERINAS.


(The man uses the remote control casually. The doorbell rings. While the picture


A face of a woman out of focus. The man with a red clown’s nose. The silhouette of a woman. The man in a wagon, a suitcase in the far distance. The man at a Steinway. The sky. The man on a dog. An audience applauding in a red hall. A burnt out house.The man with the ballerinas.The man conducts an orchestra.


Pass by the man stands with his back to the projections in the open door and waits. With his hands he perfoms a circular movement and clinches the hand over his head into a fist.)