A personal story of a father-daughter relationship, which at the same time touches on what we all face as human beings: We stand in line with those who came before us, yet we are alone. How can – and should – we understand ourselves in light of what we have been given? Why are close relationships so difficult when getting them is so important?
“I love you dad,” I say.
He’s laughing. “I don’t understand it!” He replies.
“Just for who you are!”
“Katja, I honestly think I never understood that someone loved me. My whole life.”
In this piece, Lindeberg grasps her own loneliness in meeting her father. A father who has worked as a theater worker and theater professional his whole life, who has written about and researched interaction in theater. But he – who is passionate about meeting people from the stage – has no close friends.
The polar bear is one of the world’s most dangerous, most uncompromising and at the same time most vulnerable animals. It lives alone on the ice. The male polar bear can sometimes eat his own children. So what do you do when you have a dad who is like a polar bear? And how do you avoid walking down the same lane when you, as an adult, see yourself in him? Can we live alone, or do we need to be together to come alive?
In this beautiful and powerful performance, Lindeberg uses the life of the polar bear as a picture of her own loneliness, of her father’s life, and of her own path as a polar bear daughter. She explores solitude in a deserted landscape. The show is a declaration of love for polar bear fathers, but also a settlement with one of man’s greatest horrors; to be isolated and deprived of the opportunity for love and belonging.