by Martin Crimp
Amelia (to Farmer) You understand me. Don’t you.
Vaclav Of course he doesn’t understand you.
Amelia Ask him. Ask him if he understands me.
Vaclav No.
Amelia Ask him.
Slight pause.
Vaclav She says: do you understand her?
Amelia What’re you saying to him?
Vaclav I’m asking him.
Do you understand what Amelia is saying?
Farmer I understand that she’s travelled a long way and must be tired.
Amelia What did he say?
Vaclav He said no – of course he doesn’t – of course he doesn’t understand.
Amelia Then why is he smiling?
Vaclav He’s not smiling.
Amelia Of course he’s smiling. Look at him. Stop smiling. Why are you smiling?
Slight pause.
Farmer (smiles) She’s angry.
Amelia What did he say?
Vaclav He says you’re angry.
Amelia Too fucking right I’m angry.
Farmer She’s very angry.
Amelia Too fucking right. I don’t like farms. I don’t like farmers. And I don’t like their hats. Tell him to put down his hat.
Vaclav Please. Put down your hat.
Amelia And not on the table.
Vaclav Not on the table. Perhaps – if you don’t mind it – you could …
Amelia Why can’t he just drop it? Tell him to just drop that disgusting hat / on the floor.
Vaclav Perhaps you could just put your hat on the floor.
Farmer stoops – with some difficulty, it seems – and puts his hat on the floor. Vaclav makes a move as if to help, but Amelia holds him back. Farmer straightens up again.
Thank you. May heaven bless. You must forgive us. For us this is all … um … (Searches for word.) unknown – no – strange.
Amelia What?
Vaclav I’m finding the word. I’m thanking him.
Amelia Tell him who you are.
Vaclav He knows who I am.
Amelia Tell him. Make it clear. I want to hear you make it clear to him.
Vaclav My name is Vaclav. I am this lady’s husband. That’s right – as I have said – we’re married.
Amelia Are you telling him?
Vaclav Of course I’m telling him. I’m Vaclav and I am married to Amelia.
Amelia I don’t belong here: make that clear.
Vaclav I love Amelia and Amelia is my wife.
Amelia Does he understand?
Vaclav Well of course he understands.
Amelia Ask him. Ask him if he understands.
Vaclav It’s quite clear, Amelia, that he / understands.
Farmer Do you have children?
Vaclav (slight pause) No.
Amelia What did he say? (Slight pause.) What did he say?
Vaclav He’s asking us if we have children.
Amelia Why’re you asking us that?
Vaclav It’s because I’ve told him that we’re married.
Amelia No we don’t. No we don’t ‘have any children’. Tell him.
Vaclav I’ve already told him.
Amelia Well tell him again. No we don’t ‘have any children’. (Slight pause.) Tell him. (Slight pause.) We don’t want any children. Say it. (Slight pause.) I said: say it.
Vaclav We don’t want any children.
Amelia In his language.
Vaclav We don’t want any children. (Slight pause.) I would like to have children, but Amelia would not. (Slight pause.) I understand Amelia’s … um … point of view, but I don’t agree with it.
Amelia What’re you saying to him?
Vaclav Mmm?
Amelia What’re you saying to him? Why is he smiling like that?
Vaclav I’m explaining. I’m explaining that we don’t want to have children.
Amelia You mean that I don’t.
Vaclav Yes.
Amelia You mean that I don’t want to have children.
Vaclav Yes.
Amelia Then why is he smiling?
Vaclav Because he understands, of course. Because he understands, and respects you.
Amelia Oh?
Vaclav Yes.
Amelia Respects me.
Vaclav Yes. (Slight pause.) Well yes: of course he does.
Farmer makes a sudden move, reaching into the pocket of his coat.
Amelia What’s he doing? What’s he getting out of his pocket? Stop him. I said: stop him.
Farmer suspends his gesture – looks up at her.
He stopped. He understands me. Don’t you. You understand me. Don’t you.
Pause. Amelia and Farmer stare at each other.
You see: he’s not smiling now. (Slight pause.) Not smiling now, are you?
Vaclav Amelia …
Amelia Tell him he’s stopped smiling.
Vaclav He knows he’s stopped smiling.
Amelia Does he? Tell him.
Farmer It’s fruit.
Amelia What?
Farmer I have fruit.
Vaclav He says it’s fruit.
Amelia Says what’s fruit?
Vaclav He means in his pocket – don’t you – you have fruit in your pocket – yes?
Farmer Fruit. I have fruit from the tree.
Vaclav It’s fruit – he says – from the tree.
Farmer gestures towards pocket:
Farmer Fruit from the tree.
They watch as the Farmer takes a bag out of his pocket. He puts the bag on the table and makes a gesture: ‘accept this gift’.
Vaclav He wants you to open the bag.
Amelia He can open the bag himself. Tell him.
Vaclav Please. Open the bag.
Amelia Tell him.
Vaclav I’ve just told him.
Farmer I’ve picked this fruit from the tree.
Vaclav He’s picked this fruit / from the tree.
Farmer Before daylight.
Vaclav What?
Farmer Before daylight. I picked it for your wife.
Vaclav He says it’s for you.
Farmer It’s for you.
Vaclav It’s for you.
Amelia Then open it. If it’s for me, open it.
Vaclav Please. Show us. Open it.
Farmer opens the bag and spills the fruit carefully on to the table. He takes back the bag and folds it up in a special way. The sight of the fruit softens Amelia’s mood.
Amelia Thank you.
Vaclav Thank you. May heaven bless.
Amelia What marvellous fruit.
Vaclav What marvellous fruit.
Amelia No – honestly – it’s really the most / marvellous fruit.
Vaclav No – honestly – it’s really the most / marvellous fruit.
Amelia What is this fruit called?
Vaclav What is the name of this fruit?
Farmer Plums.
Amelia What?
Vaclav He says it’s called plums.
Farmer Plums. (Repeats ‘accept this gift’ gesture.)
Vaclav The fruit is plums.
Amelia They’re beautiful. Thank you.
She goes to the plums, picks one up and looks at it.
She smiles.
They’re still wet.
She lifts it to her face and savours the smell. She meets the Farmer’s eyes. She bites into the plum.
Ah! (Spits.) Ah! (Spits.) Ah! it’s disgusting!
As she continues to spit, the Farmer laughs.
Farmer The plums aren’t to eat.
Vaclav They’re not to eat.
Farmer You have to bottle them.
Vaclav Have to what?
Farmer You have to bottle the plums.
Vaclav You have to store – no – preserve – preserve the plums – is that right?
Farmer Bottle them.
Vaclav You have to preserve the plums – I think this is right – in bottles.
Farmer Work for women.
Vaclav What?
Farmer Work for women.
Vaclav Which is a job, he says, for women.
Amelia Well fuck that. Fuck his fucking jobs for women. Jesus Christ.
Still spitting out particles of fruit she turns and moves as far away as possible. Her back turned, she wipes her mouth with a tissue. Pause. Vaclav goes over to her, says her name, touches her shoulder, but she flinches away. Vaclav steps back and smiles uncertainly at the Farmer. Further pause.
Farmer You were wearing pink jeans.
Slight pause. Farmer makes gesture: ‘translate’.
Vaclav You were wearing pink jeans.
Farmer I didn’t know that you could buy pink jeans.
Slight pause. Gesture as before.
Vaclav I didn’t know that you could buy pink jeans.
Farmer None of the other children wore pink jeans.
Vaclav None of the other children wore / pink jeans.
Farmer Only you.
Vaclav Only you wore pink jeans.
Slight pause.
Farmer Some people said the city was in flames.
Vaclav Some people said the city was burning.
Farmer Others said it was quite normal …
Vaclav Other people said the city was / normal.
Farmer With parks.
Vaclav With parks.
Farmer And shops open late into the night.
Vaclav And shops. Open late at night.
Slight pause.
Farmer And it’s true: some children came to us with chestnut blossom stuck to the soles of their shoes.
Vaclav Some children had blossom stuck to their shoes.
Farmer But others came covered in ash.
Vaclav Some were covered / in ash.
Farmer You came covered in ash. (Grins.)
Slight pause. Amelia turns back to face them.
(Grows animated.) Children were turning up here every day. We hid them on our farms and when night came helped them cross the border. I myself helped many children, not just you, to cross the border. Although, as you can see, I am poor, I asked for nothing, I expected nothing, I did it out of love. Teachers –
Vaclav makes gesture to pause him.
Vaclav Children came every day. I helped them cross the border. I expected nothing in return.
Makes gesture: ‘go on’.
Farmer Teachers brought children here.
Vaclav Teachers brought / children here.
Farmer And I helped them cross the border.
Vaclav And I helped them / to cross the border.
Farmer But teachers could be dangerous.
Vaclav Teachers could however be dangerous.
Farmer Because some of the teachers were really soldiers.
Vaclav Because some of them were / really soldiers.
Farmer And would kill a child in the same way that you or I would kill a chicken.
Vaclav And thought nothing of killing a child.
Farmer I saw this happen with my own eyes. I saw it happen behind my barn.
Pause.
In fact it never occurred to me that you would be alive.
Vaclav It never occurred to me that you had / survived.
Farmer (grows animated) Until I saw you on TV – suddenly there you were on TV – this thing on TV about the ones who had survived – the children who had survived. I recognised you straight away. I was so excited I jumped up out of my chair. Tears came to my eyes. I felt so –
Vaclav makes gesture to pause him.
Vaclav I saw you on TV and realised who you were. It made me very excited. (Makes gesture: ‘go on’.)
Farmer I thought: incredible!
Vaclav I thought it was / incredible.
Farmer That child! – incredible! – that child in the pink jeans on TV!
Vaclav It was incredible to see / you on TV.
Farmer I rushed to my neighbour’s house!
Vaclav I hurried next door to see / my neighbour.
Farmer I was shouting like a madman.
Vaclav Like a what?
Farmer Like a madman – mad! mad!
Vaclav I was shouting madly.
Farmer I was shouting ‘Mathias! Mathias! Switch on your VCR! One of those children is on TV!’
Vaclav I shouted ‘Mathias, set the VCR. / One of those –’
Farmer ‘The girl in the pink jeans is on TV!’
Vaclav ‘The girl in the pink jeans / is on TV’
Farmer ‘She’s grown up now and she’s on TV.’ But Mathias wasn’t quick enough. The teachers – or the soldiers – somebody – years ago – had cut off his feet. (Grins.)
Vaclav But Mathias wasn’t quick enough, because years ago / somebody had –
Amelia Stop. (Slight pause.) You can stop now. (Slight pause.) Thank you very much: I’ve heard enough. (Slight pause.) That’s quite enough – d’you understand? (Pause.) Give him the money.
Vaclav Mmm?
Amelia The money – give him the money.
Vaclav Yes, but he’s telling you / about –
Amelia Just give him the money.
Slight pause. Vaclav pulls his shirt out of the waist band of his trousers: there’s a money-belt strapped to him. He opens it, removes an envelope, and gives it to the Farmer. The Farmer takes out the wad of notes – US dollars – and slowly and unselfconsciously counts them. He removes from his pocket the bag that contained the plums, unfolds it, inserts the money, folds it round the money, puts it back in his pocket. For a moment everyone is completely still. Then – abruptly – more agile than we might expect – the Farmer scoops his hat off the floor, puts it on, and begins to leave.
Wait!
Farmer stops, back to them.
Tell him to turn round. Tell him that he is to turn round.
Vaclav Please will you turn round.
Amelia Make him turn round.
Vaclav Turn round please.
Farmer turns to face them.
Amelia I have something to say to you.
Vaclav Don’t.
Amelia I have something to say to you. Tell him.
Vaclav (Slight pause.) I have something to say to you.
Amelia I owe you my life.
Vaclav I owe you my life.
Amelia Or so you claim. (Slight pause.) Or so you claim.
Vaclav As you have clearly shown.
Amelia But I hate life. Say it. (Slight pause.) Say it.
Vaclav No.
Amelia I hate life. Say it.
Vaclav (slight pause) Bless you for saving my life.
Amelia Are you saying it?
Vaclav Yes yes yes I’m / saying it.
Amelia I hate life. Fuck life. Tell him.
Vaclav Thank you – bless you – for / saving my life.
Amelia I didn’t want to come here.
Vaclav It has long been my desire to come here.
Amelia I didn’t want to meet you.
Vaclav It has long been my desire / to meet you.
Amelia But you played – and in fact are still playing – just like my husband – whom I love – whom I love – on my conscience. (Slight pause.) Say it.
Vaclav Because … your kindness to me has long been on my conscience.
Amelia And now you’ve had your money, now you’ve been paid …
Vaclav And now that your kindness to me has been repaid.
Amelia I feel – tell him.
Vaclav I feel –
Amelia – as I have always felt –
Vaclav – as I have always felt –
Amelia (smiles) Nothing. (Slight pause.) Nothing – say it. (Slight pause.) I SAID SAY IT.
Vaclav Gratitude.
The Farmer nods and smiles back at her.
Amelia (continuing to smile) You understand? Yes? Absolutely / nothing.
Vaclav Nothing but an immense gratitude.
All three continue to nod and smile.
The Art of Painting
Copyright © Martin Crimp 2015
The Art of Painting was first perf
ormed on 23 September 2015 at the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.
Performed by Dorka Gryllus
Translated by Ulrike Syha
Directed by Jacqueline Kornmüller
Yes, he said, the Art of Painting, one of my favourite pictures, I come here to lose myself, he said, whatever I mean by lose myself, lose myself in the light, lose myself, he said to me, in the blue and gold. Yes when you think of all the shit that passes for art now, and the people, he said, who raise it up, yes raise it up, he said, it’s hard to know who most to blame, the so-called artists, or the people who raise it up from their positions within the universities, unless I should blame someone like you, he said to me, since young people have no roots, there’s nothing under them, their personal relationships are shallow and short-lived, and they only enter galleries like this to take photographs on their phones or buy postcards from a limited selection, I don’t necessarily mean you, he said, that you personally are to blame, he said to me, for the state of mediocrity I am referring to, but let’s face it you’re part of a generation that skims across the surface of life like one of those insects that stands on the meniscus of water, and this light, this blue, this gold, this space, this wall, this heavy curtain, this young woman’s eyes, turned modestly away, turned downwards in fact, are completely alien to the mores, if I may use an old-fashioned word, the mores of a generation whose gaze is shameless. And would you like to know, he said to me, my biggest fear, my biggest fear is that that curtain should fall, that I come here one day and find that the painted curtain has fallen across the painted image and that the image has been, as it were, painted shut, and that the light has gone. I think in that case I would probably kill myself, although I have not yet decided, he said to me, on the exact method, barbiturates are these days excessively controlled, but having said that I do have friends here in the city who find it so difficult to sleep they have managed to obtain them, it’s really just a matter of having a sympathetic doctor, the man in the gallery said to me, I would not shoot myself, he said, as people did at a certain moment in our history, shot their families, shot themselves, I don’t like violence, nor would I wish to involve this painting in violence, it has been involved in violence, of course it has, everything in this city has been involved in violence, but I do not wish to involve it in further violence, I want it to float free of the world, free of violence, I don’t for example want to discuss its provenance, old word, strange word, he said to me, provenance, from the Latin, and anyway who cares where anything comes from provided it arrives, don’t I just click on whatever it is I want and enter the details of my credit card, just like you, just like you, I’m no different, I don’t think about the systems of storage, vast sheds of objects, cooling systems cooling the electronic servers, provided the thing I’ve clicked on arrives on time at my apartment, any more than when I see a strange face in the street I think about that person’s journey to my city, days perhaps spent sealed in a metal container, sexual favours granted in return for fake documents, bribes, rape, dead children and so on, war, misery and so on, no, I don’t want to discuss provenance, he said, since if I knew where every object and every person came from I’d feel my mind was wrapped round with a million steel threads just like the earth is wrapped round with the patterns of migrating birds, and how, he said, how could I ever then lose myself in the light, how if my mind was wrapped round with the hard steel patterns of migrating birds could I ever again step past that curtain into the blue-gold world beyond?
