for good takes us into daring narrative and spatial constructions dealing with stone soups, creepy crawlies, a skeleton, snow and lost socks. There are flashes of impermanence in the here and now, in movements and narrations. for good requires patience from its audience: reading the clues is not always easy in this musically befogged atmosphere when everything that was, that is and that will be simultaneously reveals a fragile arrangement at the moment of disappearing. for good presents this volatility in an impressively concrete, remarkably direct and special manner, with a lightness that tells of things missing and things found again without descending into sorrow. It creates moments in which we see movement that takes place in the present, but which lets us recognize a glimpse of eternity by means of repetition.
The compositions of amazement, the questions concerning disappearance and retrieval are presented by a body moving through an open space. For the audience Antje Pfundtner is a mirror which bends forward uncannily closely to the audience at times only to distance itself at others. Just as a surveyor maps out an area of land she constantly re-examines theatrical space anew. She discovers bizarreness, exposes all types of absurdity and skilfully interweaves comedy (how does a child get into a refrigerator?) and tragedy (the dancing skeleton). Our fantasies and hypotheses on impermanence shine through behind the revelations and concealments. The show makes us stop and think just as it makes us jump out of our skin.
