Avant Garde Theater in Hamburg - House of National Dog

Hamburg is indeed fortunate to house the avant garde talents of visual artist
Mariola Brillowska. In a city where leash laws are considered an attack on the dignity of the dog, in certain circles, at least, Mariola Brillowska has presented us with a land called H.O.N.D. (House of National Dog), home of the Snupiehund-Sekte (Cult of Snoopy Dog) in which women who have chosen pet dogs over children learn through mock births and therapy to cope with their guilt. In particular the story follows the destiny of Lola, banished by her parents to the Land of Hond following a sexual transgression with a pet, inopportunely filmed by a news team. Excerpts of this are presented to us later in the form of an animated film. Included in the ensemble were four dancers (the Leon Dziemaszkiewicz Company), a therapist (the magician
Manuel Muerte), five citizens, an orator (
Holger Steen), a young and innocent Lola (Mariola's daughter Gloria Brillowska) and an adult and fallen Lola (Ulrich Wienand), along with original musical compositions and sound effects played live by the innovative musician / sound artist
Felix Kubin. Together these performers succeeded in creating the illusion of an entirely new and compelling reality. That's where this show transcended everything else I had seen before. Indeed, this was more than one could have expected beforehand, and it left me in a daze for hours afterwards trying to decipher the secret of that 1 hour and 15 minutes. On one item I am clear: this was avant garde theater at its best, tearing apart all that we know, and reassembling the pieces in a completely new way.

One contributing factor to the show's success was the seamless choreography of events - not an instant was allowed us in which the intensity could wane. Consultations of the therapist with the adult Lola segued into dance sequences, statements by the orator or by Mariola Brillowska, and the stunning songs of young Lola sung with haunting honesty, suggestive of erotic innocence, her knee-length, backless costume sliding naturally on the lithe figure she presented - Lola before the "fall" - Lolita before her debauchment.
As one segment of the show ended the other began, dynamics which often had the subsequent scene moving in on the previous. There was always some activity to draw our attention. I marveled at the dance troupe, two men and two women, who in each of their incarnations presented a completely new repertoire of movements, so much so that I could easily have accepted the existence of several different troupes,

though I knew it to be one. Their first appearance was in a highly symbolic scene as wolves - in the depersonifying facade of rubber masks - encroaching upon a similarly masked old woman the size of a dwarf, rocking a baby in her arms. Another time they roiled about in inflated costumes, like spinning blobs of flesh. The final decadent dance in costumes of red netting and marvelous physiques beneath, seemed symbolic of the predicted metamorphosis from dog to human: "Dogs will become human and humans will die out," performed while the adult Lola gave birth to a stream of dogs, the country's leader Mariola presiding over the births with open gown, revealing the upper body of a woman who in real life has borne a child, one breast affixed decorously with a rubber nipple.
In reality, events are not always coordinated with each other. They occur simultaneously and we focus our attention on those events we choose to perceive. Here several significant elements combined to create a contiguity of parallel events. At the rear of the stage five dog houses had been placed, frameworks lined with lights, each house containing a pet-owner and a dog, either live or stuffed - this collection of human-dog pairs was present during most of the performance, a second audience to the show, but watching from behind, reacting to and interacting with the on-stage happenings. This shadow audience sat, bounced and moved about on gymnastic balls, their pets in continual motion, discordant half-human howls rising occasionally to coincide with the main focus. Later these citizens of H.O.N.D. became active elements as they escorted the pets on a catwalk, presenting a fashion show for dogs.

Seemingly insignificant details supported the parallelism, as well, such as the figure of young Lola in something of a sleepwalk, moving behind the set, almost as a ghost, disconnected from the actions on stage. These dynamics barred all retreat - there was no place for us to take our attention if we wanted to escape, no way for our mind to wander from the Land of Hond. The music and sound effects added a further layer to all this and intensified what we saw, heard and felt: a reality with complex layers of main and subliminal occurrences.

None of this would have functioned without the performers who sustained a convincing portrayal the entire time on stage - they never once let us believe they were anything else than that character, with the unique movements, bearing and expression, especially so, the dancers, who applied their sublime art of movement to weave these illusions. This forced us to suspend our awareness that what we were seeing was merely a performance. Also notable was the attitude of self-evidence with which Mariola Brillowska played her role as leader of the cult. She was so immersed in the concept H.O.N.D., its logic was so natural to her, with a tinge of madness perhaps, that it became natural for us, as well.
But also, in this play, an entirely new social order was created. Aside from the primary premise of a society in which dogs have replaced children, we are presented with further elements that at first glance would be slightly surreal, should we encounter them in reality, but not completely impossible. At second glance they might represent new norms: the dog owners we see are four men in dark negligees and one woman. The adult Lola is also a man, in a hospital gown, and a male voice. And we have the therapist and his intrusive manner with Lola in the application of his shock therapy,

magic as medical science, though even the magic was turned on end. The primary element of magic is misdirection, but in this context the magic itself seemed intended to misdirect. There's the orator, symbolic of an extensive belief system, who enters in the formal robe of a high priest to recite the Hondian manifesto, and Mariola, the rubber nipples of a baby bottle hanging from her blouse. We realize there is no other use for this baby paraphernalia in H.O.N.D.. Through the simulation of a television broadcast and the presentation of a fashion show we see that this country has a well-developed entertainment art of its own. Taken together this all suggests a new culture, new norms, the slighter parts of an entire whole, the details of which we fill in bit by bit, based on the contradictions we see. One minor but significant detail was Mariola's statement at the beginning, pointing out the map of H.O.N.D. hanging on the upper rear wall of the stage. This defines the country as a self-contained entity with boundaries, the entirety of which we have before us in its complex dynamic, and which we are continually trying to grasp among the unceasing chain of impressions shown to us on the lofty stage. The easiest scene to perceive follows the close of the curtains, as the dogs rush out one-by-one yelping in the aftermath of this experience.
After a few rounds of enthusiastic applause and the final closing of the curtain we were left to ponder the individual parts of that multifaceted whole. Even now, a week later, I carry vivid images of that night, Lola singing, the wolves, the birth of the dogs, etc., and though I cannot be sure to have identified every ingredient of what I have seen, I am left with the distinct feeling that the story was completely secondary to the success of the performance. Given a new premise and this combination of creative talent, the effect would have been the same.
House of National Dog was seen at KAMPNAGEL KULTURFABRIK * JARRESTRASSE 20 * 22303 HAMBURG
Premiered on May 24th, additional showings on May 27th and May 31st through June 3rd, 2006.
Acknowledgements: Photos are reproduced here with kind permission from Mariola Brillowska.