When the Berliner Ensemble visits London this autumn, British playgoers will be able to see the most controversial theatre in Europe today.
Whereas in East Germany it is flavoured with a touch of scandal because of alleged political heterodoxy, the ensemble should win notice in Britain because its sharpest satire is at her expense.
If the East Berlin production of "Pauken und Trompeten," which is the ensemble's adaptation from Farquhar's "The Recruiting Officer," is given unaltered in London, it should test the English theatregoer's capacity to laugh at himself. The inconspicuous and harmless butler from Farquhar's original has been blown up into a thoroughly laughable symbol of the British lumpen proletariat, more aristocratic in its sympathies than its masters.
But then no people is more fitted for caricature than the stuffy British, except for the stuffier Germans. There is some sort of aesthetic justice done when a German company performs theatrical jiu-jitsu with a British play.
The moving spirit of this unusual group is the playwright, poet, and director Bertolt Brecht, although officially he is merely the resident dramatist. The nominal head is his actress wife, Helene Weigel, but it is Brecht's theatre.
The most notable feature of Brecht's dramas is that there is no attempt to create the illusion of reality. His is a theatre of disenchantment. The viewers are not expected to suspend disbelief but to maintain it. Brecht helps them by creating Verfremdung, or the alienation-effect. The viewers are prevented from identifying themselves with the performance, and performers with their roles.
The acting is not sincere. They are asked to remember the awkwardness they feel when first rehearsing a role, and to recall it in their performances. This gives an air of self consciousness to the acting, makes it crisp, and keeps it fresh. No brooding fate, like that of a Greek tragedy, sits over the stage. There is optimism and light-heartedness even in the midst of tragedy.
The Berliner Ensemble is criticised from opposing ends. The average citizen says that it is too realistic, for it provides no escapes and provokes no passions. Moreover, it is didactic: those who want to remain politically untainted – in their Communist purity – keep well away from it. The sophisticated critics decry its lack of realism, and allege that it has the flavour of a circus troupe. The support for the ensemble is equally inconsistent.
The admirers and critics of Brecht's work are united in recognising his creative genius and the worth of his innovations. It remains to be seen how durable will be his influence upon the German theatrical tradition, which has proved extraordinarily immune to sophistication. In the meantime even those whom he ridicules may be grateful to him for providing a theatre of such excellence.
These archive extracts are compiled by members of the Guardian's research and information department. Email: research.department@theguardian.com