Tiroler Landestheater und symphonieorchester Innsbruck has a large auditorium, with red plush seats where you are led to either side of the auditorium via a beautiful entrance lit by modern LED chandeliers in multiple colours.
A downright beautiful hall.
And there I was not invited.
No. I was to go to the small auditorium.
The theatre club GENERATIONS wanted to show how different generations think about the climate crisis, by turning a small auditorium into a cruise ship that was imaginary to sink like the titanic. It began with a quote from Charles Dickens:’ Es war die beste: schlimmste Zeit’ and it ended with: applause.
The best part was the applause, which was the only moment I was touched.
I have never had anywhere that the ‘applause’ was the most beautiful. And I've been working for a week to find out why that was anyway. I would say it could be a bad sign, because if the performance was really very good, I wouldn't have wanted an ending. I don't feel I needed the performance to last longer, it was fine. Done. I wasn't really impressed either. It was fun. Nice. Nice.
But it was heartfelt applause, I also thought it was well played, the players had done well with the resources they had. It was quite fun. It had something affectionate, being the underdog in the small auditorium like that. And my ticket was free. That too. I sat in a small auditorium with a free ticket among proud people and players who had made it to the performance. They were well concentrated into the play, visibly enjoying it. And I belonged there for a moment.
I really found my place.
As if for a moment we were more powerful than what was playing so professionally in the big hall, and really, I have no idea what was playing there. Doesn't matter either. I love that feeling of a private party. It's a privilege. To be allowed to be where others weren't. If you do things against the mainstream, unique as only you can be - then you have a privileged existence.
It is a privilege.