We have talked a lot in recent years about readiness for change, about action and just transition, but we neither imagined nor wished for the reality we live in now. The pandemics has shut down life in less than a month. Traffic came to a stop, schools, theatres, shops and inns closed down. Is this a break or the beginning of a new reality? The beginning of something that slips through our fingers, that is unpredictable, elusive, unknown – but something we know that awaits us. We don’t even know if it’s far away or quite near, and no matter how much we want the old reality back, it’s gone, it went away like that grandmother with the cakes.
These times are marked by immense fragility, vulnerability, fear, as well as anger – and the theatre is not afraid to show all these feelings. The vulnerability of our bodies, relationships, the vulnerability of nature and the endless waiting. “In order to avoid having to kill you themselves, they infected you with the waiting that keeps you alive and is killing you slowly”, said Bosnian Nobel laureate Ivo Andrić, describing waiting, which can be one of the greatest forms of violence. “If you infect a person with waiting, it’s the safest way to control them, to make them immobile and harmless, completely and for good. This deception of waiting is harder than any prison and stronger than the strongest bullies. For some, a century of torturous and fruitless waiting has gone by, and for others – they get everything they want and dare, without having to wait.” They say the corona virus brought out the best and the worst in people. Inequality has only deepened, too many are feasting at the expense of the hardship of others. On the other hand, the crisis brought people together, new ways of mutual help, action, resilience and solidarity emerged.