Farewell to a Fang

On July 16, 2025, a man who shaped German-language theater like few others died in Berlin-Köpenick. Claus Peymann was 88 years old. For many of my generation, he was more than just a director – he was an icon, a troublemaker, a fighter against the complacency of power. His death joins a list of losses that makes me painfully aware of how the formative figures of my cultural upbringing are leaving the stage of life one after another.

How I Encountered Peymann

My first conscious encounter with Claus Peymann didn't take place in a theater, but in front of a screen. It was that memorable video contribution in the "Café Brandstätter" format, in which Harald Schmidt spoke with the theater director about Thomas Bernhard – and about food. This unusual constellation between the sharp-tongued entertainer and the indomitable director, united in their love for Thomas Bernhard, immediately fascinated me.

The conversation led me to Harald Schmidt's book "In the Frittatensuppe (Frittaten Soup), the Province Celebrates Its Triumphs: Thomas Bernhard. A Culinary Search for Traces with Harald Schmidt." A work that combines literature and gastronomy in such an original way that reading it simultaneously makes you crave schnitzel and Bernhard's tirades.

This media encounter motivated me to delve deeper into the world of Thomas Bernhard. I traveled to Vienna, sat in the Café Bräunerhof near the author's regular haunt, and sensed the atmosphere of the city that Bernhard so fervently loved and hated. The connection between literature, place, and the people who brought this literature to the stage became a living web of cultural experience for me.

The Dwindling Circle of Idols

Now Claus Peymann has also passed away, and he joins that painful gallery of deceased personalities who have shaped my intellectual and aesthetic coordinate system. Karl Lagerfeld, the fashion designer who elevated fashion to art. Peter Lindbergh, the photographer who revolutionized the image of women. Helmut Dietl, whose unfinished autobiography, "A bissel was geht immer: Unfertigde Erinnerungen," I'm currently reading – the posthumous testimony of a man who catapulted Bavarian humor into the national consciousness with "Monaco Franze," "Kir Royal," and "Schtonk!"

Last week, Peymann also passed away. At my age, can one even still speak of "idols"? Perhaps it's more accurate to speak of cultural beacons, of people who helped me find and sharpen my position in the world.

"The Fang in the Ass of the Powerful"

This quote made Peymann immortal, even if he himself later qualified it. The story behind it is telling of the man: Shortly before beginning his actual work in Berlin, I allowed myself to be seduced, in a summer of high spirits, into an interview with the tabloid B.Z. in New York. Over the years, this inexplicably became "the Fang in the Ass of the Powerful."

As his departure from the BE approached, he said in a conversation with Peter von Becker: "But of course it was a mistake to say at the beginning that I wanted to be the Fang in the flesh of the Berlin Republic."

You simply have to love him with this quote. It sums up in four words what Peymann was throughout his life: a disruptive factor for all those who had made themselves comfortable in the seats of power. As a "fang in the ass of the powerful," he took over at the former Brecht Theater on Schiffbauerdamm, where he led the Berliner Ensemble from 1999 to 2017.

The legendary friendship with Thomas Bernhard

Probably the most productive and fascinating relationship in Peymann's career was his with Thomas Bernhard. For more than three decades, the two shared a working friendship that had a lasting impact on German-language theater. World premieres by contemporary authors such as Thomas Bernhard, Peter Handke, and Peter Turrini, and later also Elfriede Jelinek, have always been a focus of Peymann's work.

The collaboration began in the early 1970s and led to legendary premieres: "Der Theatermacher" (1985, a co-production with the Salzburg Festival), "Ritter, Dene, Voss" (1986), and finally the scandal-ridden "Heldenplatz" (1988), which virtually triggered a national crisis.

Particularly appealing is that Bernhard created a literary monument to his director: "Claus Peymann buys himself a pair of trousers and goes to dinner with me" was written especially for Peymann and is considered a special sign of affection from a writer to his theater director. In this short play, Bernhard has Peymann and Bernhard philosophize about trousers over dinner—a wonderfully absurd scene that illustrates the intimacy between the two men.

Episodes of a Productive Friendship

Anecdotes from the collaboration between Peymann and Bernhard are legion. The "Emergency Light Affair" ("The Ignorant and the Madman," Salzburg Festival 1972) subsequently put both director and author on combative alert and ignited "the first of many theater scandals, which Bernhard ignited and Peymann stoked."

After the scandal in Salzburg, at the latest, "Peymann knew where it hurt: where Bernhard is." The enthroned Burgtheater director and his literary pioneer vowed to embark on a thrilling theater revolt.

Bernhard's short play about Peymann's move to Vienna reveals the author's lovingly ironic view of his director: In Bernhard's short play "Claus Peymann leaves Bochum and goes to Vienna as Burgtheater director," "Fräulein Schneider" meticulously packs Peymann's suitcase: "I'll stack the dramaturges in the suitcase first / I'll carefully place your shirts on top / Your WHITE VEST, MR. PEYMANN, right at the top."

Peymann repeatedly made Bernhard famous and infamous as a playwright with his premieres, including "Theatermacher" (premiered in 1985 at the Salzburg Festival); conversely, Peymann benefited from the profound, eloquent texts of his work and business friend Thomas Bernhard.

A Life Between Provocation and Art

Claus Peymann (* June 7, 1937 in Bremen as Klaus Eberhard Peymann; † July 16, 2025 in Berlin-Köpenick) was a German theater director and, until July 2, 2017, artistic director, managing director, and sole shareholder of the Berliner Ensemble. His career was marked by artistic triumphs and political scandals.

His willingness to provoke became apparent early on: A fundraising campaign for dentures for RAF terrorist Gudrun Ensslin became a scandal. He was later sharply criticized when he offered former RAF terrorist Christian Klar an internship at his theater in 2008.

But these political controversies should not obscure the fact that Peymann was, above all, one thing: a theatermaker of a stature that has become rare today. "Claus Peymann was one of the most influential figures in modern German theater. With his commitment, courage to engage, and great passion for art, he played a decisive role in shaping Berlin's culture. We are losing a combative spirit—and a great theater maker," said Berlin's Governing Mayor Kai Wegner.

Legacy of an Indomitable Man

He never minced his words, as the obituaries aptly put it. "In my presence, one cannot be bored," Peymann once said – and it was true. Anyone who experienced him encountered a man who used the theater as a weapon against society's complacency.

"We bow before a great life's work and mourn Claus Peymann," declared Minister of State for Culture Wolfram Weimer. "He was a titan of the theater, a master of imposition and innovation – a director who always understood the stage as a battleground: for artistic freedom, friction, and radical truthfulness."

The End of an Era

In July 2025, Peymann died in Berlin-Köpenick after a long illness. With him, an era comes to an end – the era of great theater directors who led their theaters like generals and understood the stage as a political statement.

Life is fleeting, but some remain in our memories forever, like Claus Peymann. Not only for his productions, not only for his scandals, but for his uncompromising stance that art can never be neutral. In a time when theater often degenerates into mere entertainment, his legacy reminds us that the stage must be a place of debate, friction, and imposition.

He was a fang in the ass of the powerful—and that's exactly what every society needs if it doesn't want to lose itself in complacency. May his example inspire others to restore theater to what it was in its prime: a place where the world is not just reflected, but questioned.

Rest in peace, Claus Peymann. You were one of the greats.

Sapere aude!

S. Noir

The link to the original German text: https://www.ganjingworld.com/s/r9BEVb429x