Improviser Peter Frankl and his friends will put on a fun monodrama for all those of you who missed theatre and are returning to it eager to have fun.

Since you’ve been diligently washing your hands for the last two months, diligently disinfecting them, diligently wearing gloves one day and diligently not wearing them the next, diligently getting better and diligently dying, diligently cycling and taking flowers for a walk, diligently working and have been generally even more diligent every day, we, the artists, will also responsibly and diligently follow the recommendations of the government and create a fun monodrama, the kind that a diligent citizen longs for now that he can return to the theatre. We will diligently improvise and amaze from sentence to sentence. Amaze you and amaze ourselves. But we will soon get used to this amazement. You, the audience, and we, the creators. Give the impression that we are not in control, that we don’t know what we are doing (since we really don’t!), and will not know anything in general. And what next? How, in what way, and above all, what will we be for after that?

When we think about future projects today (early April 2020), we cannot ignore the current situation with the coronavirus that turned the usual routine upside down overnight. We began to question and think anew what was taken for granted only a few months ago. Scientists and philosophers are contradictory, some are claiming that capitalism will return in the form of ultra capitalism (we may already be living it), others are more optimistic, talking about the plague as a harbinger of a new system, since it had brought down the feudal order.

We seem to be living in a time when comedy and satire can proclaim they have been overcome by reality. It’s hard to be more ridiculous than reality that is becoming the greatest absurdity of the absurdity itself. The improvisations we are playing to comply with the new regulations, government outbursts, our own feelings, have flooded our everyday lives and become the new normal.

If only a couple of months ago, we were planning a vacation at sea, a winter in the mountains, and visits to various concerts, we now don’t even know if we will see each other at the premiere or if we will livestream the performance, whether we will be able to stand on the stage together or if the masks will be obligatory … Forecasts are changing daily, or even differing, contradicting each other. Such an uncertain daily routine is also being generated by politics (political developments?).

Thus, theater has most obviously become a place of thinking and reflection – including on ourselves. The moment the ban on socializing came into effect, the indestructible medium showed its weakness – creators and viewers simultaneously in the same place. Still, what kind of theater will we want when everything returns to normal? Will everything be as it was? What kind of audience will return? And what will it want?

The miniature will try to respond to the current situation. We are aware that it is difficult to distance ourselves from the things we are currently living and see them in a different light, but that’s exactly what we will strive for. What’s next? Do we dare to predict? The more absurd we are in our prophecy, the more we will hit the truth. We will not get far without relativization.