Café Fincan, Neukölln. Thursday, 11:40 AM

Dahling, I haven’t seen you since before Facebook! Was there even such a time? How DID we keep in touch back then….carrier pigeon? Honestly, I have an entire DRAWER full of stationary I can’t be bothered to use. Not because I don’t love writing letters, but because I insist on writing them in fountain pen, and let’s face it, if you’re left handed, you smudge. I think that’s why I liked learning Hebrew.....right to left, dear….Hebrew is written right to left - didn’t I tell you? Actually, it’s the only kernel of information I care to remember from my religious education. The rest, trash. No bacon? No men? No way!

So… You’re entering a competition for emerging opera directors…sponsored by Krupp. How very exciting! What’s your idea? …The Magic Flute…great choice – you can do TONNES with the piece…SO loopy! Hmmmm? You want all the costumes to be black? Well, that’s simple…a bold statement. And slimming – the singers will love you. Sets, black too? Isn’t that a bit…monochromatic? I can see your point…black is neutral; allows the drama to speak….and you want the singers in black face? Whatever for? To erase artificial constructs of gender and ethnicity ...Got it…black light? Honey, you know I think you’re brilliant, but wouldn’t it be easier to get the audience to close their eyes? ….but there are different kinds of black. You do have a point there, and I wish you all the best. I really do. Here’s what: when you win, call me and we’ll buy something fabulous.

Hey listen, I know it’s before noon, but do you want a drink? You don’t drink anymore….because... alcohol clouds the vital force of your creativity…okay…something to eat - they have really fantastic cheesecake here. Dairy...How could I forget.

A black coffee. Why am I not surprised?

No…no, I’m not mocking you, it’s just… gentle teasing that’s all...

oh, but it is so good to see you!

…and you don’t like people touching you…an invasion of your personal space - you feel you need to clearly define the parameters of our friendship. Of course I understand. Next time you crave physical contact, just send a delegation to my country’s embassy.

Oh, it was just a joke. Honestly. Are you all for black moods, too? No, you shut up!

Now you’re asking if the coffee is ORGANIC? Honey, we’re at a Turkish café in the middle of Neukölln: the coffee was probably traded for weapons! Now I’m racist. Well, I’m not the one who wants the singers to wear black face! But it’s a postcolonial reclamation of otherness? Who are you, Edward Said? …

Of course theatre is political. Everything is political....Did I say it wasn’t?

***

Well, I think I should go. I’ve got an appointment with my therapist in an hour, then a session with a cranial-sacral healer at 2. This evening I’m rehearsing an experimental 1 act opera about Chernobyl. No, it’s manageable; I just have to remember not to push myself.

So, next week? Same time? Great.

Give my love to Lutz and Dante!