Ewald Palmetshofer

Körpergewicht. 17%
Auftragsarbeit für das Nationaltheater Mannheim
1 D
UA: 27.05.09 · Nationaltheater Mannheim · Directed by: Torge Kübler
They could not be more contradictory – these two voices: On the left-hand side, the voice of the woman, a reclusive, completely on the losing side of the superfluous. Only able to endure the world and its people from behind a heavy internal wall. On the right-hand side, the voice of a young financier, spit out of the system as the financebubble burst. Now he travels the world because there is no place for him in it any more. She has long since disappeared. He's disappearing right now. Two superfluous people, separated by everything except for, perhaps, the fact of their own disappearance.

And perhaps they do exist, these almost historical moments, in which opposites collapse into each other. Such moments are very short. Perhaps they take place during an exchange of glances at the subway platform. And it sometimes happens that someone falls onto the tracks and gets under the wheels of the train and disappears. And so, this monologue forces two voices into one body. There is always one voice too many, a superfluous voice, more than one body can bear. Until the end, when order reigns again, when this brief historical moment has never existed and one has rid itself of the superfluous ones.
(Ewald Palmetshofer)

The lonely woman, who, like a black, strange ghost, stood in front of a white horizon, barricaded behind a furious, childish, noisy, and hateful world-fear, rages against everything outside her home and safe nest—she seems to be two people. On the one hand, a heartless blabbermouth without any social safeguards or contacts, a sister of Beckett 's Krapp. An old woman who listens to her own last, absurd, long, deadly, disinfected tirade—a woman permeated by a second voice...


körpergewicht 17%

Der Standard, 15.10.2011

Nun liegen auf Palmetshofers rhythmisch hübsch schnurrendem Text [...] ein paar Tonnen Sekundärliteratur: von Ulrich Beck aus abwärts immer nur das Beste.

Kronenzeitung, 15.10.2011

Die gesellschaftliche "ewigliche" Krise schimmert in dem dichten textgewebe durch, und doch verzichtet Palmteshofer nicht auf Ironie und mitunter recht süffisanten Humor.