"Any musician will be happy to assure you that an orchestra can always do without a conductor, but not without the double bass." In his soundproofed room, a not-so-young, not exactly highly talented double bass player talks about his instrument, his place in the orchestra and in life. He is a permanent member of the state orchestra, third desk, who is only on for tutti performances. Even the timpani, with its mere four notes, is more important than him. The nameless musician hates Mozart and Wagner and likes to skip a few notes when playing to get back at the composers or annoy the conductor. What could possibly happen to him? You don't become a double bass player by choice, he thinks. And the instrument, which looks like an old woman with overly fat hips, is always in the way. "Can you tell me why a man in his mid-thirties, namely me, is living with an instrument that constantly gets in his way? Humanly, socially, sexually and musically only hindered?" He is in love with the beautiful, young soprano Sarah. But she goes out with other men who are more talented or more influential than him. But one day, he resolves, he will throw down his bow in the middle of a performance and shout her name out loud.
The extremely humorous monologue of the double bass player, who has a love-hate relationship with his instrument and drowns his inadequacy and dissatisfaction in beer, is a classic by Patrick Süskind from 1981. Since its publication, it has become a much-performed solo play on German stages, offering great entertainment and many hilarious anecdotes from music history along the way. Axel Vornam directs the one-person play with Oliver Firit on the double bass.