Jonas Pfeiferâs 2HARD2HANDLE transforms Berlinâs GrĂŒner Salon into a hyper-visible environment where control, exposure and collective exhaustion collapse into one another.
In 2HARD2HANDLE, Berlin-based theatre maker Jonas Pfeifer constructs a space in which nothing withdraws. Set inside a glass villa, the piece unfolds under conditions of permanent visibility. Every action is exposed. Every gesture risks becoming performance. The stage extends across the entire GrĂŒner Salon, dissolving the distance between audience and performers.
Pfeifer, who worked for years with Constanza Macras, moves here into a more defined language of his own. The work draws on Berlinâs changing architecture: glass facades, illuminated towers, structures built to be seen through. These environments do not offer clarity. They produce pressure. Visibility becomes expectation. Control runs through the piece as a fragile construct. It is established, tested, and repeatedly undone. What emerges is a system that depends on its own instability. The more it tries to stabilise itself, the more it reveals its limits.
âPerhaps weâve forgotten how to live with the unknown. And in doing so, what might we be losing?â
Your play takes place in a glass villa where everyone is constantly being observed. How did this idea come about â were you thinking more about social media, or about real-life relationships in everyday life?
The idea came to me one day while I was watching the new high-rises being built at Alexanderplatz. Everything is transparent; you can almost see right through them. At night, these illuminated buildings stand like monoliths in the landscape and are increasingly shaping the image of Berlin. This transparency is an expression of the spirit of our times. We experience it in social media too, but I think itâs more of a demand we place on our surroundings â an attempt to find a sense of security in an uncertain world. Perhaps weâve forgotten how to live with the unknown. And in doing so, what might we be losing?
â2HARD2HANDLEâ revolves around control and loss of control. Do you ever experience those moments in rehearsal when something gets out of hand â and is that exactly what becomes exciting on stage?
In rehearsals, you actually find control within loss of control â and thatâs not necessarily a paradox. If you start a process with a question, you have to accept that the answer might be unsatisfying. Then things can start to slip; everyoneâs trust wavers for a moment. But you pull yourself together, until eventually, something clicks. Itâs precisely in those moments that situations emerge you can build on and learn to trust. You just have to be careful not to settle too quickly on simple answers â or to question them again so that they might find a language closer to the original question. In the end, we discover a form of control within the loss of control. In rehearsals, and in our daily lives, too. Thatâs what keeps drawing me back to theatre.
You worked with Constanza Macras for many years. What did you take away from that time â and where did you want to try something entirely your own?
I was always fascinated by the rehearsal process with Constanza Macras. The collaborative creation of material, the openness that allowed so many ideas to emerge â that taught me a lot. What Iâve taken most from that time is the joy of experimentation and collective thinking. At the same time, I wanted to explore my own path and find out which themes and forms interest me right now.
The GrĂŒner Salon is a very special place â open and intimate at once. What role does the space play in the piece? Did you have it in mind from the beginning?
The space inspired me right from the start. As a smaller stage beside the main theatre, it has a certain fluid identity: the stage itself is tiny compared to the audience area. I wondered how we could break that and turn the entire space into the stage. Together with my stage designer, Albertine Mietusch, we used the whole room and covered it with artificial grass. The green walls create a sort of capsule where time and space almost dissolve â almost like in a reality TV villa, where everything seems normal as long as youâre in view of the cameras. I think the space and the piece found each other in that sense.
Your press text mentions âcollective exhaustion.â What do you want to express with that â is it more about our current state of being, or perhaps a moment of hope?
Maybe both. I donât really believe in the purely dystopian, but itâs also hard for me to believe in grand utopias. I think itâs the details of how we treat one another that determine how we live together and where our boundaries lie. Thatâs why, especially in confusing times, itâs worthwhile to take stock â to find direction again without rushing into hardened opinions. As long as thatâs possible, I see that as a sign of hope.
âIn rehearsals, you actually find control within loss of control.â
2HARD2HANDLE stays close to that threshold where control begins to slip. The glass villa becomes less a setting than a condition. One that reflects a present shaped by exposure, uncertainty and the ongoing attempt to hold things together.
