“The Last Conference” at Heimathafen Neukölln: How would you make decisions in the face of the climate crisis?
Heimathafen Neukölln dissects the paths leading to eco-social collapse. And it lets the audience vote—on refugees or media control. How is the climate actually doing? We’ve almost lost sight of the question amid all the rubble and doomsday scenarios, in the face of the world’s numerous wars and aggressive power plays. Even the former climate icon Greta Thunberg currently prefers to fight for Palestine rather than against CO₂ emissions. It’s therefore an excellent idea by Polish director Krzysztof Minkowski to bring the neglected climate back onto the stage at Heimathafen Neukölln as the main protagonist, before it reappears there on its own. There’s no doubt that it will do so at some point. But the destructive force with which this will unfold remains to be seen. Whether this force can still be kept in check, of course, depends entirely on the decisions we make right here and now. However, when you see the dithering and procrastination of today’s governments, it’s easy to feel anxious. In any case, it’s very likely that in a few years, things will look just as the four women on the main stage at Heimathafen Neukölln describe in “The Last Conference”: It’s the year 2050, global warming has surpassed the two-degree mark, and droughts and rising tides have turned millions of people into refugees. But while the wealthy North is still rushing to take refuge in expensive, green technology, the impoverished South remains stuck with cheap, outdated fossil-fuel-based junk.
Should we take in climate refugees? Or maybe not? The scenarios are familiar enough, but the way the four actresses stand on stage and weave together dense, darkly atmospheric linguistic imagery in various idioms—imagery that alienates them from their places of residence, whether in the North, South, East, or West—is one of the most powerful moments of this otherwise haphazardly cobbled-together hybrid theater evening. The sense of alienation is equally intense everywhere: the light is more blinding, the air more noxious. The world is burning. The stage itself is littered with black shreds, as if a rain of ash had already swept over it. But then the scene abruptly shifts from the gloomy performance space to a brightly lit climate conference that still somehow hopes to avert all of this. The audience members are given name tags and voting cards and, as government representatives, must cast their own votes. As ridiculous as this may seem at first—it makes perfect sense the moment you think about it, because hasn’t this back-and-forth of procrastinating talk and voting been going on for years without any binding action being taken? In fact, the conference snippets here celebrate a world situation that has become nothing short of cynical, oscillating between green moral policing and proto-fascist propaganda.
The voting scenarios available swing back and forth between the devil and the deep blue sea, because every climate issue has now escalated into a battleground for social conflict: Should climate refugees be allowed to enter wealthy countries that are still intact, thereby risking social upheaval there, or should they be resettled in areas that have become accessible following the melting of the ice? Should the media be controlled to curb anti-scientific fake news? Surprisingly, a majority voted “yes” on that last question. Minkowski and his newly founded “Theater of Knowledge” take a fatally—and mercilessly populist—approach, but in doing so, they also hit the nail on the head.
Doris Meierhenrich, Berliner Zeitung, Oct. 12, 2025