I only met the great Ernst Grissemann once, but I will never forget that encounter.
Eight years ago, my stage partner at the time, the cabaret artist Gerald Fleischhacker, and I were invited to make a satirical contribution to a gala performance in the Theater Akzent. We sat in our dressing room and waited for the sound check. Many artists performed that day, and the technology desperately asked for the sound check to be limited to five minutes. A comedian was out on stage and had been pestering the technicians with special requests for half an hour, messing up the schedule. We found this vain and uncooperative and tried not to get too upset.
At that moment, Ernst Grissemann stormed into the cloakroom and called out, “Open the window, I’m sweating like a pig!” And because it was Ernst Grissemann who said it, it didn’t sound ordinary, but like a sentence by Shakespeare or Schiller. And while the vain colleague continued to test his microphone and his little jokes outside, Grissemann simply told great stories. Gerald Fleischhacker and I pricked up our ears, interrupted Grissemann as little as possible, drank beer with him and felt blessed.
Then Grissemann had to go on stage and just kept going: He told stories, the audience hung on his every word. He didn’t let on for a second that Grissemann was tired and a little annoyed.
Going on stage following him was wonderful and terrifying at the same time because technically you didn’t stand a chance.
Now Ernst Grissemann, the great presenter, journalist and comedian, has died at the age of 88 and I will never forget that he once allowed me to share the dressing room and the stage with him.
