Matthias Egersdörfer

In the morning, the sky sometimes starts to fall on you without warning. The woman has slept too little or too much. She talks away. You are buried under an avalanche of words. You haven't had a sip of coffee yet. You are glad that gravity is working and were just about to count your fingers. What's bad about the situation is the speed at which the words are spoken. What's bad is the way people rush along the streets, the tractors race across the fields, the high speed with which the news and disasters flash and thunder. It's been a few years since the Egers worked in a kitchen. The chef told him three hundred times in a short space of time that he should hurry up. Egers tried. But it didn't go any faster. Egers is slow. He cuts onions slowly, thinks slowly and doesn't usually speak very quickly. He also wrote the new program at this slow pace. It took a very long time. Letter by letter, word by word. Sentence after sentence. With a sluggish force, the cabaret artist braces himself against the speed of the world. The whole evening celebrates slowness, which is why the stories are not performed at a fast pace. But as an audience member, you don't need to worry about getting tired because of the slow pace. Because it may well be that the Egers gets angry at some point. He often gets upset about everything and nothing. And then you'll wake up again.