苏珊娜·施奈德/Suannen Schneider
Seventeen years ago there were thirty of us, all aged around 20, and dreaming of a really great career in the theatre. We had good reason for dreaming. After all we had been chosen from hundreds of candidates and accepted for the Salzburg Mozarteum's three drama classes. That meant something, so we felt talented and important.
We probably all were talented, to a greater or lesser degree, and inexperienced too—in love with acting and convinced that our ability would bring us to the great theatres of this world. We wanted to serve great art, and great art deserved us. That is how we thought then.
Everyday reality looked rather different. The first lesson we had to learn was that drama students kiss and hug always and everywhere. The great figures showed us how. We fell in love with all and sundry, and smoked whatever was offered to us. A year later, when new pupils turned up, we proudly presented ourselves as advanced drama students.
Instead of declaiming Schiller and Shakespeare on stage we first had to learn our craft. Fencing, tap-dancing, singing. Throwing and catching imaginary balls. Recognizing, with closed eyes, fellow students by their hands. What all that had to do with great art only became apparent to us very slowly. We wanted to be on stage. When we were at long, long last allowed to walk the boards, we quickly understood that a dark stage could be the loneliest place in the world.
It is not at all easy for outsiders to comprehend what is supposedly so difficult about learning a few sentences by heart and then presenting them. Of course there is stage fright, but what else? The most complex thing of all is simply walking across the stage. One never quite gets that right. A person crossing a stage is not simply someone walking, but a person acting a part. But what part? That is the problem.
The initial euphoria soon gave way to sobriety. Anyone honest with him—or herself could already ascertain whether he merely believed in the immensity of his talent or whether he really possessed it. It was not difficult to see in oneself and in others who was burning with passion for acting and who only had a flickering talent—because for three years one was preoccupied with nothing but oneself, with one's feelings, voice, body, and the inner barriers which some could surmount and others not. But it was easy to deceive oneself to begin with since for a while passion can be a good substitute for lack of talent.
What has become of us—thirty dreams and seventeen years later? A long story, above all. No, thirty stories. Some of us are well-known, almost famous. Andrea and April for instance. One has played in a TV opera for years, and the other is the only woman in the actors' team in Saturday's quiz show. Some of us have vanished, like Mafia and Mathias. Mafia, who could dance and play the piano so beautifully, simply didn't return after the vacation in the first year. Mathias, now running a sound studio in Vienna, finally realized that“my ambitions were perhaps a little excessive.”By saying this, he preserved himself from a life—lie with which too many bad actors console themselves: that they are unlucky to be unrecognized, and that if the right director turned up, their immense talent would be appreciated.
Perhaps those are absolutely everyday stories as could be told at any time of any class at any drama school. However, two stories of our class stand out, one sad and one wonderful.
The sad story. Eberhard Schmidt had too little time to realize his dreams. He wanted to become a great director and he had already got quite a way as assistant to some eminent directors. He died of AIDS eight years ago. I only met him once again, at Frankfurt a year before his death.
We were linked because our names followed one another in the alphabet. He was Schmidt and I am Schneider. We were called forward in couples for the six tests we had to undergo before both were accepted in the drama school. To begin with of course we were enemies, competitors for one of at most twelve training places per class. The further we got, Schmidt and Schneider, the more we hoped that the other would not be left behind. When we both got through, we embraced. For the first time. And for the second time in Frankfurt when saying good-bye forever.
The wonderful story. Sven Bechtolf is for the moment the only one of us about whom it can already be said that he has achieved even more than we all dared dream at the time. In 1996, he was chosen best director of the year. That was really something.
However, my first meeting with Sven was not very agreeable. Together with eleven others I had just got through the enhance examination. I was sitting with Franziska on a bench in front of the rehearsal stage. Sven, a year ahead of us, stood on some steps, wearing mauve dungarees, and looking us over: motionless and a little arrogant but damned goo-looking with a well-structured face, brown eyes, and blonde hair.
Then he came down the steps, right towards me, and then at the last moment swerved aside so as to ask Franziska instead of me:“What's your name?”
Nevertheless we became friends. Three years later on the riverbank at night, when we were practising the tap-steps for our final examination in dance, he promised to give me a part in the first film he made.
Today Sven is at once a director and a member of the executive board of the Thalia Theater in Hamburg, one of Germany's best companies. He has also acted many great parts and was elevated to the aristocracy of the craft.
Right at the end of our training we had to prepare a role that we would probably never perform on stage. I chose Goethe's Gretchen. No director would have cast me as Gretchen since I lack the blondeness and delicacy for the part. That was the great attraction. At the end of the play, when Gretchen sits in prison close to madness and awaiting death, she says,“Woe, woe, they are coming. Bitter death.”I gave up the acting profession because of that sentence.
The words simply didn't flow. I could of course have recited them, but while I was saying this sentence I constantly asked myself: Who is going to believe in your desperation? I could just as well have said,“Who's eaten my jelly baby?”or“What, a quarter past five already?”There would not have been any difference. In desperation I said this sentence again and again, hoping that a fear of death would arise. The opposite was the case.
What distinguishes a good actor from a bad one—and the reason for my failure which had of course been evident for some time—is credibility. True art consists of making the spectator forget that the actor is only playing a part.
Recognition that this profession was not for me was painful. For three years it was my life, a wonderful life. Botho Strauss has written a kind of universal sentence about the theatre:“Only theatre prevented me from becoming a great actor.”Yes, that's true of me, too.
17年前，我们三十个年轻人都梦想着在戏剧圈干出一番真正的大事业，那时我们都是20岁左右。我们有充分的理由拥有这样的梦想，毕竟我们是从几百名考生中选拔出来考进萨尔茨堡·莫扎特学院这三个戏剧班的。那可是一件了不起的事情，因此我们自视甚高，认为自己很有才能。
我们也许或多或少都是一些有才华的人，然而，我们也缺乏经验——只是拥有对表演的热爱和对于自己能够走向世界最大剧院的自信。我们希望自己服务于伟大的艺术事业，与此同时，伟大的艺术事业也值得我们为之奋斗一生。当时，我们的想法就是这样的。
然而，现实生活与我们的想象相去甚远。第一节课的时候，我们就得知，戏剧专业的学生要不分时间和地点地接吻和拥抱。那些知名演员给我们作示范，我们要与形形色色的人相爱，无论给我们的是什么烟，我们都要抽。一年之后，当新学生入校后，我们就自豪地摆出一副戏剧专业高年级学生的姿态。
戏剧专业的学生并不是一开始就学习朗诵席勒和莎士比亚的作品，而是先要学习表演。学习的课程包括击剑、踢踏舞、唱歌、抛接想象中的球，以及闭着眼睛摸同学的手来辨认他是谁。所有这一切与伟大艺术有关系的事物，只是一点一点地呈现在我们的眼前。我们期望着登上舞台进行表演，当经历了漫长的学习过程，我们终于获准登上舞台时，我们很快就懂得，世界上最孤单的地方就是那个黑暗的舞台。
外行人或许很难理解把台词记住然后再表演出来，是一件多么艰难的事情。当然还会出现怯场的情况，然而其他困难呢？仅仅走台步就是所有事情中最难的一件了，没有一个人能够走得恰到好处。走台步是在表演一个角色，绝非像人们散步那样简单。然而，是什么角色呢？这就是表演的难题了。
没过多久，清醒代替了最初的兴奋。任何一个能够诚实面对自己的人都能够确定，他或她到底是相信自己的无限才能，还是已经真正拥有了它。看看究竟谁有表演的热情，谁的才情只是一闪而过的火花，这从自身和其他人的身上不难得出答案。因为三年来，我们关注的总是自己的情感、声音、躯体和内心的障碍，有些人战胜了这些障碍，有些人却没有。最初，**可以暂时弥补才华的缺乏，因此，人们很容易被自己的错觉所欺骗。
17年之后，我们三十个人的梦想变成了什么样子呢？总之，这个故事不是几句话就可以讲完的。不，应该是三十个故事。我们中的一些人已经成名，几乎是家喻户晓了，比如安德烈亚和艾普丽尔，一个多年来一直演电视剧，另一个则是星期六问答秀节目组唯一的女演员。有些人却没了消息，比如马法和马赛厄斯。在记忆中，马法的舞蹈和钢琴都很出色，然而，第一学年的假期之后，他就再也没有回到学校。现在，马赛厄斯在维也纳经营一家录音室，他最终意识到：“也许，我当年的雄心壮志有点儿过头。”他说的倒是真话，不像许多蹩脚的演员，用谎言来自我安慰：没有得到认可是因为运气太差；如果遇见一位能够发掘自己才能的导演，他们无限的才华就能得到赏识。
在任何一所戏剧学校的任何一个班级里，那些都绝对是随时有可能发生的平常事。不过，在我们那个班级里，有两件事情给人们留下的印象最深刻：一件是令人伤心的，另一件则是令人愉快的。
先说说那个令人伤心的故事吧。埃伯哈德·施密特的生命太短暂了，没能实现自己的梦想。他梦想成为一名大导演，在为几位大牌导演当助理的时候，他已初露锋芒。八年前，他死于艾滋病。我后来只在法兰克福见过他一次，那是在他生病去世的前一年。
我们两个人扯上关系是因为按照字母顺序排列，我们的名字是挨着的。他的姓是施密特，我的姓是施奈德。在被戏剧学校录取之前，我们一共要参加6次考试，每次考试的时候，我们总是被叫到一起搭档表演。因为每个班最多录取12个人，因此最初的时候，我们都把彼此当做敌人和竞争对手。到了后来，我们——施密特和施奈德距离希望越近，我们就越不愿意看到对方被淘汰。当两人都被成功录取时，我们拥抱在一起，那是我们第一次拥抱对方。在法兰克福永别时，我们第二次拥抱了对方。
现在说说令人愉快的故事吧。斯文·贝克托夫，他是目前我们当中唯一实现梦想，甚至所达到的目标已经超出了我们当时所设想目标的人。他在1996年被评为年度最佳导演，这可是一个不同寻常的奖项。
然而，我与斯文第一次见面时，彼此相处得并不愉快。当时，我与其他11名同学刚刚通过入学考试，我和弗兰泽斯卡坐在排练台前的一条长椅上。斯文比我们高一个年级，他当时穿着一条紫红色的粗棉布裤子，站在台阶上望着我们。他纹丝不动地站在那里，有点儿傲慢。不过，他长得倒是很英俊——五官俊朗，眼睛是棕色的，一头金发。
然后，他从台阶上走了下来，朝着我走过来，可是到了跟前，他却转向弗兰泽斯卡问道：“你叫什么名字？”
不过，我们还是成了很好的朋友。三年之后，在河边的一个夜晚，当我们正在为舞蹈课的期末考试练习踢踏舞的时候，他向我作了一个承诺，那就是让我在他导演的第一部片子中饰演一个角色。
现在，斯文成为一名导演，同时也是汉堡的塔里亚剧场管理委员会的委员——塔里亚剧场是德国顶级剧场之一。此外，他还成功演绎了许多不朽的角色，人们奉他为演艺界的巨星。
戏剧学院的课程即将结束的时候，每个学生都不得不准备一个可能一生都不会在舞台上表演的角色。我选中了歌德诗剧中的格莱琴，我没有这个角色所需要的一头金发和高雅气质，因此不会有导演让我演这个角色。这就很有意思了，在剧本的结尾，格莱琴坐在监狱中等待死亡的降临，她几近疯狂地说道：“咳，咳，它们即将降临，令人痛苦的死亡。”我之所以放弃演艺事业，就是因为那句台词。
那句台词说得确实不够流畅。当然，我本可以把它们背诵出来，然而，当说这句台词的时候，我总是不断地问自己：谁会相信你的绝望呢？我还不如说：“谁把我的娃娃糖吃了？”或“什么，已经五点一刻了？”效果都是一样的。我绝望地一遍又一遍地重复着这句台词，希望能够找到死亡的恐惧感。然而，结果恰恰相反。
一名出色演员和一名蹩脚演员的区别就在于角色的逼真程度，当然，这显然也是我一段时间以来失败的原因。能够使观众忘记演员仅仅是在扮演一个角色的艺术，才是真正的艺术。
当我意识到自己不适合从事这个职业的时候，我感到非常痛苦。因为这三年就是我的生命，一段非常美好的生活。博托·施特劳斯曾经写过一段关于戏剧的名言：“阻止我成为一名好演员的就是戏剧。”是的，对我来说也是如此。
declaim [di'kleim] v.朗诵；朗读
Shall I make an oration to the rocks, or declaim to the mountains, and think to move them with arguments?
难道我要向石头演讲，向山宣读，并且期待它们因我的论证而移动吗？
euphoria [ju:'f?:ri?] n.兴奋
It was more about the euphoria, the joy.
我感受更多的是陶醉和快感。
agreeable [?'ɡri:?bl] adj.令人愉快的
Do you think life is a sequence of agreeable events?
你认为人生就是一连串愉快的事情吗？
dungarees [?d??ɡ?'ri:] n.用粗棉布所做的裤子；工作服
Here are three hats here. They are made by gold, silver, and dungaree, which one is yours?
这里有三顶由黄金、白银和粗布做的帽子，请问哪顶是你的？
所有这一切与伟大艺术有关系的事物，都只是一点一点地呈现在我们的眼前。
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外行人或许很难理解把台词记住然后再表演出来，是一件多么艰难的事情。
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他还成功演绎了许多不朽的角色，人们奉他为演艺界的巨星。
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What all that had to do with great art only became apparent to us very slowly.
have to do with：与……相关
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But it was easy to deceive oneself to begin with since for a while passion can be a good substitute…
begin with：以……开始；开始于……
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