54 Min. 06 Sec. Adopted by SWR (Southwest Broadcasting) 2015 1. Street.<\/p>\n ILI Your father has a handsome ring HEDWIG Look at that little girl, Fredl. Sitting in the debris like it was her dollhouse. (moves away) Below freezing, I swear, the temperature\u2019s no higher than that today \u2026<\/p>\n Ili\u2019s song distorts into dissonance. A cuckoo calls on the radio. A warning siren is heard and then suddenly goes silent, as does Ili\u2019s voice. Only her breath is still audible.<\/p>\n HEDWIG Silence. Wind. Ili\u2019s breath. Almost inaudibly, she starts humming again.<\/p>\n ILI 2.Street<\/p><\/blockquote>\n KARAS HEDWIG KARAS ILI KARAS ILI KARAS ILI KARAS ILI KARAS HEDWIG She calls herself Ili. She has no papers and she tells of a cellar where she took shelter. Anna, who worked the streets for cigarettes, was staying there as well. Ili was supposed to take the baby for a walk whenever a man visited Anna. Karas tries to find out what happened to the baby and whether Ili is really the person she claims to be.<\/p>\n 19. Precinct office<\/p>\n KARAS ILI KARAS ILI KARAS ILI KARAS ILI KARAS ILI <\/p>\n Director:\u00a0Andrea Getto 2014\u2028 approx. 56 min.<\/p>\n \u201cI like what\u2019s archaic about the text, the evil that dwells in everyone. From the way the characters behave you know there will be violence and war. The characters are both victims and perpetrators. Unredeemed creatures. The play is based on a specific wartime situation, but it can be transferred to any hostile crisis situation. The language is convincing with its almost lyrical concentration.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n \u201cLaw and order, does that mean anything anymore, Officer Karas asks. Who can tell anymore? The great war destroyed all rules. Rules of coexistence, of cooperation. And hope lies in ruins as well. Who is a perpetrator and who is a victim in this devastated world? A drama that tells of people who become guilty through no fault of their own. Switched identities as an attempt to understand what you\u2019ve been through, to heal psychic wounds. Not a whodunnit, but a special kind of detective story. <\/em><\/p>\n The author\u2019s literary signature, a poetic view of characters who attempt a new beginning under the burden of their histories.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Radio Drama DLR Berlin 2014<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":218,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-179","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-radioplay"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/179","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=179"}],"version-history":[{"count":67,"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/179\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3155,"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/179\/revisions\/3155"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/218"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=179"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=179"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.susanneayoub.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=179"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThird Place, Zons Radio Play Festival 2014<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nAdopted by BR (Bavarian Broadcasting) 2015<\/strong><\/p>\n
\n(in a monotonous singsong, in the distance)<\/p>\n
\nset with a green jewel glistening.
\nPlease let me have just one small glance,
\nI\u2019ll be so glad I\u2019ll do a dance.
\nAnd let this pretty doll of mine
\ninto your garden, small and fine.
\nThen you will alone possess
\nthe doll with all its fancy dress.<\/p>\n
\nIt\u2019s bitter cold. I could use some gloves. October seventh. If this is how the autumn\u2019s starting, what will winter be like? One of those stoves they\u2019re advertising, that you can cook on too, who\u2019s going to pay for it? And what am I supposed to fuel it with, and what am I supposed to cook on it? The ad doesn\u2019t say anything about that.<\/p>\n
\n(coming closer) Why, she\u2019s still there! (calls) You, over there, aren\u2019t you going home? Aren\u2019t you getting cold on that stone? And your \u2013 wait a minute, Fredl! \u2026 That\u2019s not a \u2013 Jesus! Somebody\u2019s got to \u2013 right away \u2013 come on, Fredl, quick! (walks quickly away)<\/p>\n
\n(whispering) \u2026 please let me have just one small glance, I\u2019ll be so glad I\u2019ll \u2013 (fades out)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\n<\/em>The great war is over. The city is full of ruins, hunger, and hardship. On the street, a girl with a dead baby in her arms. The policeman Karas takes her away for questioning.<\/p>\n
\nGet up! Listen to me, I\u2019m talking to you!<\/p>\n
\nA child, an infant! And I thought it was a doll. And it\u2019s dead too. Hugging a dead baby. I thought my heart would stop. Fredl, I can\u2019t get over the shock.<\/p>\n
\nGet up! Make it snappy.<\/p>\n
\nI\u2019m sorry. I didn\u2019t hear you. (stands up) I\u2019m \u2026<\/p>\n
\nIs that your child?<\/p>\n
\nI have \u2026<\/p>\n
\nWhat happened to this baby?<\/p>\n
\n(with effort) She \u2026 she died.<\/p>\n
\nYour name. Identification.<\/p>\n
\nI don\u2019t have any.<\/p>\n
\nNo name?<\/p>\n
\nThis is scandalous! Young people today. The best ones never came back from the war. The riffraff survived. Fredl, let\u2019s go, I can\u2019t bear to look at this anymore. \u2013 The poor helpless thing, all blue. She was grabbing it by the neck, like a rabbit. Dead, yes, but not of natural causes!<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\nStory time is over! Your name is Anna F\u00f6rster and you\u2019re 16 years old. The resident register burned up, but we will find your address, it\u2019s just a matter of time.<\/p>\n
\nThe house isn\u2019t there anymore.<\/p>\n
\nThe school bag, probably stolen.<\/p>\n
\nThere\u2019s nothing in there but a book of fairy tales. I read them to Hinkel. And to myself, too, it\u2019s a nice book. We didn\u2019t have any books, there. I haven\u2019t held a book in my hands since I left home.<\/p>\n
\nSo, you can remember after all?<\/p>\n
\nDuring the air raids in the cellar I was always so scared. The worst thing was when the lights went out. Then I couldn\u2019t take it anymore, I went upstairs and watched. Up there on the hill you could see them coming from the west or the south. Howling and whistling. I can still hear it at night when it\u2019s quiet. Then the explosion. Horrible but somehow beautiful too.<\/p>\n
\nThat was in the home, you\u2019re talking about the home.<\/p>\n
\nThey arrested my mother. She was passing out leaflets, with the underground, like my father, but he was long gone, I don\u2019t know where, and Mama burned my papers before the police came and told me I was on my own now, that I had to go into hiding. But it was too late. They took her away and me too.<\/p>\n
\nBurned your papers? Are you making things up again?<\/p>\n
\nYou can\u2019t force me. I\u2019d rather die than go there.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\nMusic:\u00a0Sabine Wortmann
\nWith\u00a0Eva Mayer, Alexander Ebeert, Sabine Trooger, Pippa Galli, Philipp Hochmair
\nSound:\u00a0Thomas Monnerjahn
\nProduction:\u00a0DKultur<\/p>\nANDREA GETTO: Director\u2019s statement<\/h4>\n
STATEMENT by DLR Berlin editor TORSTEN ENDERS<\/h4>\n