By Sebastian Bauer
She was the face of the Schaubühne and is now considered a theater legend. Edith Clever, now 82 years old, is now showing an exhibition with the painter Luc Tuymans at the Academy of Arts. BZ met the great Edith Clever for a chat.
Schaubühne queen Edith Clever (82) has remained loyal to her large place of work in Berlin.
Only the living space became smaller, the large house on the Havel became difficult to manage as we got older, says Clever, as she skillfully combs her long white hair down the back of her neck.
At the Academy of Arts, the theater legend is now showing an exhibition with the Belgian painter Luc Tuymans (65), which is located at the place where Albert Speer once planned the Nazi capital Germania, with the depiction of history, mechanisms of violence, but also deals with the beauty of art. We spoke to the great actress.
BZ: An actress helping to design an exhibition is not an everyday occurrence. How did you react to Luc Tuymans’ request?
Edith Clever: I was extremely amazed and surprised. At first I couldn’t imagine anything about it. But after looking at his works, I became confident that a joint exhibition could be successful. Although I felt that actors are not good at creating exhibitions. Now I’m happy and would describe the result as successful.
Your face and your voice are very present in the show. Do you like seeing and hearing yourself?
No not at all. (laughs) You first have to get used to yourself and realize that you seem to have a completely different image of yourself than those who only know you from the outside must have. I always find it amazing what you see. I tend to be very self-critical anyway and always notice straight away when something is wrong.
Today we live in a flood of digital images. What influence does this have on the aftereffects of great theater moments?
This is downright hostile to my job. It is the opposite of what we want to achieve in the theater. Theater is absolutely present, the viewer takes part. That’s why I’m skeptical about the use of digital media in the theater. Today you always think you have to show footage on stage. In my opinion, this is not an enrichment, but rather an impoverishment, a wear and tear.
Does this wear and tear also cause patience to diminish? The wonderful texts with which you became famous are increasingly being cut up and cut up on today’s stages.
Everyone will feel this differently. But I think it’s important to try hard. Like “The Night,” which lasts six hours. At that time we hadn’t considered making any concessions in any way. And you can still learn a lot from it. Because theater today usually takes the opposite path and believes that it has to adapt to new possibilities. But in doing so, the happiness of the present is destroyed. I am certainly concerned that there is less and less patience to sit down and let a piece like this work its magic on you.
Do you still often go to your old place of work, the Schaubühne?
I’ve decided to intensify this again. (laughs)
Do you feel pain when you are there today?
Maybe that was the case for a while. But that’s long gone now.
We see ourselves today in crisis, in tragic times. Do you see the great tragic heroes in contemporary politics and society that you know from the theater?
I don’t see a hero at the moment, but that can still happen. And we take what we experience and bring it back into art.
Can art comfort you in difficult times?
Yes, she can, through beauty. We urgently need art. So that we have something different around us than what constantly surrounds us in everyday life. But I don’t want to go on stage anymore.
Never again?
This exhibition is a good farewell. What more do you want?
So “Everyman” was your last piece at the Salzburg Festival?
I played death there, which is also fitting for a farewell. (laughs)
Did you learn anything about death in the role?
I believe death has to be experienced. You can’t prepare it.
Are you afraid of death?
The more funerals I attend, the more normal it becomes. At my age, you learn to say goodbye and time lets us go.