As a theatre scholar, one of the intriguing discoveries for me has been the encounter with the movement known as "post-migrant theatre," which seems to be well-established in Germany, yet still remains almost absent from Polish theatre repertoires. This term also appears to have equivalents in other countries, though it's worth noting the ambiguity of such labels depending on their cultural context.

We attended three very different theatre productions, each appealing to distinct audience sectors, and all of them, in their own way, addressed themes of identity and belonging against the backdrop of urban life in Berlin. This unusual combination proved to be a highly effective curatorial choice. Through these varied perspectives on “post-migrant” experiences, which shed light on each other, a kind of meta-theatrical reflection emerges, focused on performing identity, notions of authenticity and cultural nostalgia.

Ellbogen (Elbow) at the Maxim Gorki Theater is a stage adaptation of a novel, performed as a monodrama. It offers an introspective look into the life of Hazal Akgündüz, a second-generation migrant born in Berlin to a Turkish immigrant family. The story centers on her experience of a troubling dissonance between the harsh realities of her working-class family's struggle for basic survival and the aspirational lifestyle promoted by capitalist democracy.

The play, challenging on many levels, benefits greatly from the choice of a solo performance format, which emphasizes its introspective nature while avoiding the pathos of the otherwise tragic events. The staging also makes excellent use of the modest studio theatre space. Additionally, two well-placed screens provide English subtitles for the international audience (which appeared to consist mainly of young people).

The performance Ich nehm dir alles weg – Ein Schlagerballett at the Hebbel am Ufer posed the question whether “aesthetic Germanness” can exist outside of whiteness and heteronormativity. The intriguing description promised an examination of identity through 20th-century German Schlager music — perhaps the most ubiquitous form of popular culture. However, the production itself had a certain level of exclusivity. The performers seemed to constantly balance between presenting their personal experiences (highlighted through first-person narration and individual expression) and performing as characters (embodying onstage personas). While speaking of nostalgia, they also playfully winked at the audience — many of whom, notably, seemed to recognize the performers' onstage alter egos. As a result, the production felt more deeply rooted in Berlin’s queer scene than in any universal notion of "Germanness" it referred to. Furthermore, despite many references and quotations from Pina Bausch’s choreography, the performance did not share her drive to explore emotions or universal themes. Instead, it aligned more with contemporary international aesthetic trends. Hinting at various contexts rather than attempting to make a clear statement on its subject, it appeared to have more in common with the broader European contemporary dance scene than with any specifically "German" context — which, in itself, could be seen as an interesting statement.

In a somewhat paradoxical contrast to the previous day's performance, Gazino Night at Heimathafen provided an entirely different spectacle —while also leaning strongly into Schlager music. Presented in a cabaret style with a table-seated audience, it embraced its format as professional entertainment, making no claims to contemporary art, yet fully aware of its conventions and the authenticity of the performers’ stage personas. Here, the notion of authenticity took on a new twist.

The show was openly nostalgic, drawing heavily on the 1990s, and while it may have seemed culturally exclusive — I could easily imagine the sentimental connection these songs (unknown to me) evoked for others. However, the elements designed to lower the “entry threshold” — such as shared personal stories and photographs — introduced a very different kind of stage authenticity, one that evoked empathy. Cultural specificity didn't act as much of a barrier. Interestingly, the mechanisms of nostalgia and sentimentality proved to be universally relatable. In this sense, Gazino Night offered a unique form of engagement, using nostalgia not as an exclusionary tool but as a bridge that allowed the audience to connect across cultural lines.

‘No Man's Land’

This photograph, taken on the last day of our Berlin tour, carries a symbolic undertone. Captured by chance, it shows a luxury Tesla parked against the somewhat contrasting backdrop of the East Side Gallery—the remains of the Berlin Wall. This juxtaposition seems to reflect what lies on the opposite side of the lens: a large complex of modern buildings housing global corporations, hotels from international chains, and concert halls (including Uber Arena and the surrounding Uber Platz complex). The area also features high-end restaurants and stores, catering to those with substantial financial capital. It is a space typical of global urban centers, describable by a nearly universal formula: aesthetically impressive, functionally efficient, architecturally open, yet symbolically exclusive.

Much like Berlin's Postdamer Platz, now the city's business hub, these districts emerged from the transformation of what was once uninhabited land—a former buffer zone around the Berlin Wall, deliberately maintained as a strip of empty ground for decades. This area holds significant historical and symbolic weight, where many lost their lives attempting to cross the border (as commemorated by an exhibit at the East Side Gallery). The rapid development of these centrally located areas in the twenty-first century offers a striking contrast—from no man's land to hyper-gentrified zones, where, ironically, no one seem to live even today.

While Berlin's unique historical situation makes direct comparisons difficult, we can certainly draw parallels with the similarly rapid redevelopment processes of other central 'no man's land' areas in various cities (particularly in Warsaw, which serves as my case study).