Schweinerei - Lieselot Siddiki

When a clown goes to live in a palace, he does not become a sultan. No, the palace turns into a circus. (Turkish proverb) SCHWEINEREI takes place in a closed world of excess and decay. Two figures prepare for a final, exuberant night in a space that is simultaneously a bunker, a palace, and an amusement park. They are hungry and thirsty without restraint; they are insatiable. Eating and drinking become rituals. They dress up, switch roles, play ruler and victim. Masks shift until they almost grow onto their faces. At the same time, they are repulsive and irresistible. Between the abundant dining, music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart sounds: clear, playful, and almost childlike. But beneath that beauty, unrest grows. The harmony remains intact, but slowly tears open. The performance is like a carnival: a world turned upside down. A temporary suspension of order and hierarchy, where roles tilt and nothing is fixed. Beneath the dressing up and the excess, something restless slumbers. What remains is a gilded cage: beautifully designed, but not free. Beneath wigs, porcelain, and party noise, paranoia grows. SCHWEINEREI is a performance about the end of a world order and about what comes after. A mirror for our time, in which decadence and revolution embrace each other. For what happens when excess becomes uncontrollable? When paradise turns out to be rotten on the inside? History teaches: where decadence flourishes, revolution knocks at the door.