Copenhagen seminar, Peter Langdal lecture

Langdal. I'm so scared! First of all I have to admit my English is so bad. But since most of you understand Danish it's all right. I'm feeling just as scared as the other Sunday when I had six physicists walking around on my stage in the theatre. I have the same feeling here as you must have had with me, standing in this physicists' "church" here.

First of all, it really interests me, what you [Michael Frayn] said about the theatre as a meeting place for people coming together. Every day I ask myself why am I working in this silly business. The other day I got a kind of an answer from one of my kids. They are sleeping in the same room in bunk beds on top of each other. (laughter) I asked my son, "What did you dream, my son." And he told me a story about a lion and something like that. And then I thought of my daughter, Kamilla, she's a bit younger, what did she dream? "The same thing." "Why?" "Because we're sleeping in the same room." (laughter)

I think that's why I work in theatre. If you can go into a room and have a kind of common experience of something. I mean, that's the reason for waking up every day, going there at 12 o'clock, rehearsing. Otherwise I would just stay home underneath my pillow.

I'm going to speak English – "see me hop, see me run," and all what we wrote in school twenty years ago. But first of all, I wrote here, "I love your play." (laughter, applause) You understand that? And then I say, "Why do I love your play?" And the funny thing is, the first sentence in the play, is, "Why?" Why? I've been speculating about it, because – why, why, why – there's a lot of why's in the play, and that's one of the reasons why I like it.

Henning Moritzen – Niels Bohr. Niels Bohr is now in Hvidovre Hospital! He broke his leg. Normally people break their leg before opening night; they say to each other, "Break a leg," or something. But actually he broke a leg.

In the summer, first of all, I had a very short time to get in contact with the play, because I thought another director should do it. I experience sometimes the thing you do with your left hand is the best thing you do. It doesn't mean that I haven't been very concentrated on it, but I hadn't got time to be so scared. I hadn't got time to think, "God, I'm a Dane; Niels Bohr is living in Denmark." I'm so young, though. I'm a little over 40 years old now, but I have never heard Niels Bohr on the radio. I've never been in this place. I was so in a hurry, so I didn't have the time to be really scared. Because putting on a play about Niels Bohr here in Copenhagen is just like putting on a play about Boris Yeltsin in Moscow or something. (laughter)

Sometimes I wonder, why didn't I write this play myself? Because it's so great. And I think maybe you need foreign glasses to write it. At the moment, I'm going together with another playwright called P.O. Enquist – Per Olov Enquist, a Swede. He's been dreaming about it for many years; he's been bicycling across here visiting this house. But he never came out with a play about Niels Bohr. I should bring greetings from him to you.

Why do I love this play? I mean, especially today – when Danish theatre is musicals and the entertainment industry and everything – this play, with so many words in it, and so many thoughts, is a big challenge for a theatre to put out. Just before I did this play I made a play by Bertolt Brecht called "Galilei." It was another physicist, but he wasn't a Dane, so the play didn't go down that well. (laughter) But, what was I going to say? It's so difficult for me to speak English.

Bertolt Brecht, who wrote "Galilei," once said, "When you've got an audience, you should give them what they want and what they don't want. Then they start to think." I don't know if people read your play – all actors who read it are so excited about it. If I put it out to the audience, "Read this play," they say: "Oh, too many words, too many words, too many thoughts; you can't do that on stage." In a way I think you succeed in giving people what they want and what they don't want. Because they want human beings on stage, they want living creatures, people having relationships with each other on stage. That's what we work with.

I remember sometime in the summer, Henning Moritzen, who played the leading character [Niels Bohr] in our production, phoned me: "Peter, now I've been reading this play three times. On page 1 someone says, 'Why did Heisenberg come to Copenhagen?' What's the answer? I never find the answer?" (laughter) I said, "I don't either!" And then he said, "On page 20, that's one answer, maybe that's the thing. That's no answer, there are ten answers to this question." But you know, very often I know as a director that the director and actors very often say, if we have to come through a door, "Why do I come in? I want to steal this young lady, and take her on a trip to langtbortistan [Shangri-la]." You know, you need answers as an actor. "Why am I sitting down? Because I'm in love with her." Why am I doing this, why am I doing that? And it was such a big challenge for this very very great actor, who I really admire, working with the play, who hadn't any answers to his questions. "OK, that's a start," I thought. "Now something is happening." Because I noticed that physicists, when they work together – if they've had a hard day at the office or wherever they work – love to go home smiling to each other, saying, "Yes, we have a problem." (laughter) But when actors leave rehearsal, they think, "Oh, I've got a problem." (laughter)

But in a way your play is searching for truth about what human relationships are all about. All this search for truth, what is life all about, and all that – I didn't have a chance to think one word before I started. This searching for the meaning of life, and all that, I think that's something in your play mirroring my own search for truth in theatre. After I met somebody – two, three, four, five physicists – I thought, "OK they're having the same way of searching, finding out what's it all about."

It's been such a great experience for me and for my actors in our theatre, to have these meetings with people from another field. And I feel very honoured to be here today. Because theatre has a sickness like a lot of other things, to isolate itself, like a cocoon. We concentrate on our own like this, and forget all about society and thoughts and ethics and all that. And I'm very proud that at the moment in our theatre we are putting on a play dealing with these big questions of life. I mean, in Denmark, the Church doesn't have an "Arte ordning," (laughter) that's a kind of Danish system [of subscribing to theatre tickets].

And it has been such a great experience for me, Michael. I mean, my father is a barber, a hairdresser. (laughter) You can't see that [from my hair]. It's like the kids of the baker, they never get anything to eat. The other day he was there visiting our theatre with thirty barbers. And they were arguing and discussing at the corner – we have a nice little inn at the corner there. Everyone was discussing, "What is life all about, can I see you, you can't see me, how can we understand?" (laughter) And I was very proud. Because I think why I love this play is also because you can actually explain it to Margrethe, as you say in the play; we have to explain it to Margrethe and all the Margrethes in our theatre. I mean, understanding has so many levels, but it's not a difficult play. And it's very funny also; the way you turn the sentences and all that. In Denmark we have something called "skuespillermad" (laughter) – food for actors – when actors take in your words. Actually, it's a provocation in Denmark to put on paper so many words – you must have a hard work hearing all this!

And everybody was scared. The actors said, "We don't know anything about physics, what shall we do? Let's call in some experts!" And one of them said, "We need to be professors in our own world." And then Henning after a while said, "Maybe there's no answer, but then these 20 pages, this is the answer isn't it? Yes, OK, for these 20 pages we have one answer. And then we work out from that. And then after the next 20 pages, this is the answer. OK, let's go for that." And it's this big question in the play, "Why did Heisenberg come to Copenhagen?" I asked Henning, and he said, "I don't know."

And then some day we were sitting out there in his garden . We were drinking coffee – we drink very much coffee – and eating a lot of cake, trying to figure out something. But then he said, "I think" – and that's one of the best explanations of the question I've got actually, and it came not from a physicist but from an actor. He said to me, "Peter, I think, maybe Heisenberg just had a desire for holding somebody in his hand. That's the reason why he came." I think that was such a wonderful explanation of this whole dilemma. OK, "I need someone to hold his hand." And actually we built our whole production on that one sentence.

That's another of Henning's explanations. Henning is a very bright actor. I love actors because sometimes they think very simple – what do you call it, clear, narrow minded? Once I attended a concert between Oscar Peterson – you know him? didloo, didloo, didloo, didloo – and Count Basie, bing, bing. (laughter) Henning said, "I think Heisenberg came to Copenhagen because he opened up a door to something he was scared about, and then he needed to come back to his father figure, who also opened up the same door, so they could hold hands." Yes, hold hands. And that's what theatre is all about, hold hands; trying to know yourself by knowing each other.

This famous Tor Nørretranders – you know him maybe. He wrote a book recently in Denmark called "Mærk Verden." And everything was about "Mig'et." I don't know how to translate it – the "Me." This book was about the "Me," the ego. I think the "You" is much more interesting. And I think your play is a big tribute to the "You's."

At the end of the play you say in the meanwhile you can just enjoy all the trees in Fælledparken. And looking, listening to each other. That's what it's all about. This is a kind of anthropological mistake, having so many people in the same room, I think. It's like theatre. Because everybody's on their own, today, at home.

I just want to finish – I've got 12 minutes, right? This play has become a classic already. Here, four directors in this room have each given their different view on your play. And I'm very proud that I was the first one here to do it.

But, another thing of interest was this mistake in the play. I mean, Heisenberg made a mistake. He forgot to calculate something everybody thought was as it was. And I think a little mistake is the reason for why we are here. That's interesting to me from a philosophical point of view. I consider myself as a mistake. Afterwards I found out this very little thing in your play which is genius, I think. Everybody knows the story about Heisenberg who forgot to calculate. Maybe consciously, maybe unconsciously, we don't know. We're here because of the little mistake. I mean, this Yeltsin I talk about, he can do, like, BOOM, and everything, BOOM, blows away. But the little mistake can let us all stay alive here. I'm so happy!

Your play is still a mystery to me. And that's the reason why I love it. I never finish it. I saw it the other day because we had to put in another actor instead of Henning. And every time I see it, every time I listen to it, it becomes bigger. It has so many levels. And that's what theatre is all about. I think theatre should go in here [points to his head], here [claps his chest], here [covers his groin]. (laughter) And we have a chance of working with your text, especially if they got in conflict with each other, it's so interesting! (laughter) You made a partiture [musical score], you gave us the opportunity to work like that in theatre, thank you for that. (applause)

Return to the Copenhagen seminar.