Healing in The Piano Teacher
In this chapter, I aim to demonstrate how Erika’s experience of vulnerability indicates the prospect of healing. I argue that to heal is to form nurturing relationships with others through vulnerability, in which one is enabled to experience sustenance, love, and even courage. Moreover, given that it is through vulnerability that one gets to heal, the process of healing also entails the removal of oppression, which is the corollary of the pursuit of invulnerability and categorical control. As underscored by Gilson, “we are necessarily vulnerable precisely because we are beings who are what they are in relation to others, who are in basic community” (55). The community emerges from the recognition that one becomes who he or she is through relations and in virtue of interconnectedness (55-56). In other words, to comprehend and
acknowledge one’s fundamental vulnerability is to truly recognize one’s existence as a human being in the world, which operates through the interplay of intersubjective relations on the premise of openness. Accordingly, to disavow vulnerability and seek its inverse is to sever connections with others, which subsequently prohibits the occurrence of healing. Based on this understanding, an individual who is prevented from healing often remains isolated within a self-enclosed status, where he or she is unable to truly comprehend his or her existence as a human being shaped by relations and interconnectedness. Whereas one’s willful detachment from the surroundings may give rise to illusory senses of security, control, and empowerment, it not only
hampers the subject from healing, but also lays the ground for oppressive and inhuman social relations.
In addition, the ambiguous/ambivalent dimension of vulnerability as the fundamental truth of the human condition also sheds light on the significance of healing. As one becomes susceptible to affection and alteration through
interconnectedness, one also inevitably encounters risks, harms, and pain, as he or she concurrently experiences love, sustenance, and positive progressions. These various dimensions cannot be disentangled from one another because they inhere in the same condition of potential, the same fundamental way of being open to the world, and the same capacity for affection, constituting the ambiguous/ambivalent nature of human existence (Gilson 138). Consequently, in the experience of vulnerability, the
formation of connections with others enables one to heal from the pain, danger, and loss that accompany the alterations of the self, which is a process of becoming-other defined by uncertainty and potentiality. None of these dimensions would have occurred had one disavowed vulnerability and subsequently forbidden mutual intertwining of self and other. As highlighted by Gilson, “to deny or repudiate vulnerability is to deny and repudiate the nature of human reality” (145). Generally speaking, based on the understanding of vulnerability as a fundamental condition of human existence, an open self is incessantly shaped, disturbed, destabilized, yet simultaneously sustained, nurtured, and healed, in the process of forming
unpredictable and uncontrollable connections with other human beings. Simply put, it is on account of one’s vulnerability that one needs to heal, and it is also on account of one’s vulnerability that one gets to heal.
Based on this understanding, if we look back on The Piano Teacher, and consider Erika’s manifestation of love to Walter and her mother as a critical
experience of vulnerability, the sequence indicates Erika’s potentiality to heal. In this
respect, the film does not offer a distinct illustration of how Erika’s life has changed by virtue of her relationship with Walter and her disturbing experience of
vulnerability. As a matter of fact, the film ends rather unexpectedly in an abrupt and ambiguous fashion, which presumably produces in the viewers a sense of the
uncertainty confronted by the heroine, as she heads off-screen to unknown whereabouts during the final shot of the film.
To demonstrate how the ending of the film implies the prospect of healing for Erika, I propose my elaborations at both a narrative and visual level. In the final sequence of the film, Erika and her mother enter the Vienna Concert Hall, where Erika is going to stand in for Anna (whose hand is crippled earlier by Erika) and perform at the school concert. In the grand foyer among the stream of audience members, Erika’s eyes are desperately searching for Walter’s arrival. She manages to engage in absent-minded small talks with some of her students and others, but it is evident that her mind is thoroughly preoccupied with something else. Finally, Walter shows up among a jubilant group of people, laughing and chattering as they deposit their coats. Erika slowly approaches them, and is greeted by Walter’s aunt and uncle, who politely deliver their well wishes to Erika before they rush up the stairs. Walter walks past Erika without stopping, and is accompanied by a young woman who appears to be his new love interest. With a cocky smile and his customary self-assured demeanor, he joyfully greets Erika and expresses his eagerness to hear her play, as though nothing has ever occurred between the two of them, including their brutal sexual intercourse the previous night. In a static medium close-up shot, Erika stares vacantly into the crowd as they hurry to the auditorium. The boisterous sound gradually diminishes into utter silence, and the pianist is left completely alone in the empty foyer. Tears well up in Erika’s eyes, and she opens her purse, feels for the knife inside, and swiftly stabs it into her upper left chest. At precisely that instant, her
composed facial expression is distorted into a monstrous grimace, which, as described by Jelinek in the novel, resembles “a sick horse” baring its teeth (279, see fig. 9). In the next shot, Erika pushes open the doors of the concert hall, and exits the building onto the street in a brisk pace, while the blossoming bloodstain on her beige blouse remains vividly exposed. Nothing regarding the pianist’s whereabouts is suggested after she walks out of the frame, and the camera stays fixed on the majestic facade of the Vienna Concert Hall for a few moments, before the credits begin to roll.
Fig. 9. Erika stabbing herself as she “bares her teeth like a sick horse,” as described in Elfriede Jelinek’s novel, The Piano Teacher (02:07:22).
The ambiguous and open-ended resolution of The Piano Teacher suggests numerous possible implications in terms of Erika’s change of fate. For instance, several critics point to the direction of self-destruction, including Slavoj Žižek, who maintains that after Walter tramples her fundamental fantasy through his violent sexual act, the unbearable pain from the experience leaves Erika completely cold, and ultimately pushes her towards suicide (21). In a similar vein, Lisa Coulthard also reckons Erika’s final self-stabbing as a suicidal gesture. In Coulthard’s view, the empty foyer where the suicide takes place indicates the intersubjective failure to
communicate and to be understood, which is verified by the heroine’s eventual disappearance into isolating darkness (46-47). On top of that, John Champagne proposes that the film’s unresolved ending denotes the impossibility of not only Erika’s sexual desire, but female sexuality in general, as a consequence of the patriarchal culture (Champagne). On the whole, in view of the aforementioned interpretations, the film’s obscure ending might possibly presage an inauspicious future for Erika, where she is doomed to eternal solitude, and unable to fulfill her sexual desires in a loving, healthy relationship.
As opposed to these views, some opt for a more positive stance towards the implication of the ending, including Isabelle Huppert, who compares the little rivulet of blood on Erika’s chest to a tiny trickle of life (Huppert). As the actress
demonstrates, “[...] if Walter hasn’t condemned her to death, in a way he’s given her permission to live. That rivulet of blood contains so much: It’s pathetic... but perhaps it’s also the beginning of something, the acceptance of her pain” (Huppert). In consideration of this metaphorical significance of the wound and blood, the ending takes on a new level of meaning. In favor of Huppert’s view that the ending suggests a new possibility for the heroine, Jean Wyatt lays emphasis on the implication of freedom arising from Erika’s break with her mother. As Wyatt specifically points out, by slicing into her pectoral muscles, Erika may well be dismantling her left arm’s capacity, and presumably will no longer be able to play the piano (477). Based on this understanding, as Erika eventually walks away from the concert hall and jettisons the chance of playing Schubert onstage, she destroys her mother’s grandiose dream that she will rule over “the Schubert domain” of concert performance (477). By refusing the position demanded by the mother, Erika ultimately liberates herself from the imperative that she be her mother’s narcissistic extension, and therefore cuts through the maternal knot of demand, submission, rebellion, and guilt (477). Put another way,
the ending of the film brings about a new freedom and a prospect of healing for Erika on a narrative level. Instead of viewing Erika’s self-stabbing as simply a suicide attempt, we may also reckon the act as her wish to “kill” the invulnerable self, which is a toxic product engendered by the mother’s demand for perfection, imperviousness, and avoidance of social interactions. As Erika heads onto the street with her
bloodstain on the chest entirely exposed, her unruffled comportment indicates the renouncement of a flawless, invulnerable appearance. In other words, the wound denotes her vulnerability, which she now acknowledges and allows to be seen. By refusing to execute her mother’s command of being a world-class concert performer of Schubert, Erika learns to free herself from the entrapment of maternal domination, as well as the invulnerable self she constructs to offset the violence it gives rise to.
Since the maternal control constitutes a principal part of Erika’s social withdrawal and obstruction of interpersonal relationships, adopting a non-compliant attitude towards her mother enables Erika to open out to others, as well as to be altered, affected, and healed in the formation of human connections.
Moreover, the redemptive implication of the ending is also manifested on the visual level, particularly by virtue of what Wyatt refers to as, “the sudden sense of open space” (478). In this regard, Wyatt specifically highlights the final shot of the film, which is a lingering long-shot of the resplendent facade of the Vienna Concert Hall, from which Erika walks out before she disappears offscreen (see fig. 10). In Wyatt’ view, the mise-en-scène of the concluding shot hints at Erika’s new freedom on two fronts. First, the exterior of the foursquare, massive concert hall parallels that of a prison. All the doors and window frames are decorated with cross-bars and perpendicular bars, giving the effect of multiple frames-within-the-frame, and
suggesting an imprisoning structure which Erika manages to escape from (Wyatt 477-78). Secondly, as the camera backs off from its usual close-up focus to take a distant
shot of Erika emerging onto the street, the sudden opening up of the spatial frame conveys the impression of free movement out of an entrapping structure (476, 478).
Overall, the sense of open space is constructed on both aesthetic and technical levels, through Haneke’s employment of a long shot that captures the multiple internal frames encasing the facade of the building.
Fig. 10. The long shot where Erika exits the Vienna Concert Hall, whose facade symbolizes an imprisoning structure, The Piano Teacher (02:08:01).
In addition to Wyatt’s perception of the open space as an indication of Erika’s new freedom, I draw connections between the very first shot and the final shot of the film, both of which comprise the image of door, as a symbol of closure/openness. The film kicks off with a shot of the locked, wooden door of Erika’s and her mother’s apartment, captured from the interior of the house (see fig. 11). We then see Erika open the door from the outside in a surreptitious manner, tiptoe into the house, and softly lock the door, in order not to be caught by her mother. However, before she can get access to her own room, the mother appears and physically blocks her from entering her private space. The image of door in the very first shot of the film serves
as a harbinger of the violent maternal control permeating throughout the story. The heavy, wooden, locked door of the apartment, along with the dim lighting of the interior of the house, engenders the impression of a gloomy and obstructed space. In this sense, Erika’s entrance into the house and the action of locking the door signify her entrapment within the maternal dominion.
Fig. 11. The image of door in the very first shot of the film symbolizing the obstructed space inhabited only by Erika and her mother, The Piano Teacher (00:01:05).
Furthermore, immediately following the opening credits, we see Erika,
accompanied by her mother, heading towards the elevator in the building where she is going to perform at the private recital. The two are shortly followed by Walter, who also heads in the same direction. Nevertheless, upon walking into the elevator, Erika emphatically shuts the elevator door in Walter’s face. The claustrophobic space of the elevator, besieged on four sides with grids and bars, bears much resemblance to a cage, both visually and figuratively (see fig. 12). It stands as another symbol of the suffocating space occupied solely by Erika and her inseparable mother. By willfully shutting the elevator door to impede the accommodation of a third party, Erika
concretizes the obstruction of openness and the resistance of permeability, which are the fundamental constituents of her proclivity for an invulnerable image.
Fig. 12. The elevator symbolizing the claustrophobic space that negates the admission of a third party, The Piano Teacher (00:12:14).
Whereas the image of door in the initial sequences indicates obstruction and entrapment, in the final two shots of the film, it takes on the opposite significance when Erika walks out of the Vienna Concert Hall. In contrast to the locked, wooden door of Erika’s apartment shown in the initial shot, the doors of the concert hall are limpid and made of glass. Herein the difference in the textures of doors parallels the conversion of Erika’s state of mind, that is, from opaqueness/obstruction to
transparency/openness (see fig. 13 and 14). Additionally, during the opening shot, we see Erika enter from the outside into the gloomy interior of the house, in a furtive manner with which she hopes would not alert her mother. However, in the final shot of the concert hall, she pushes open the glass doors and briskly heads in an outward direction, from the empty foyer onto the hustle and bustle of the street. Given that Erika’s entrance into the house and her following confrontation with her mother in the opening sequence indicate entrapment of maternal control, her exit from the building
in the final shot can be viewed as liberation from the entrapment, as she makes her own way to the potentiality of openness, interconnectedness, and healing.
Fig. 13. In the first shot of the film, Erika’s furtive entry into the dim-lighted house and her action of locking the door indicate opaqueness/obstruction, The Piano Teacher (00:01:08).
Fig. 14. In contrast to the opening shot, the penultimate shot of the film, along with the final shot as seen in fig. 10, implies transparency/openness, The Piano Teacher (02:07:57).
On the whole, the image of door in The Piano Teacher epitomizes ambiguity and ambivalence. While it can signify the entry to confinement and isolation, it also represents the opportunity to escape and be liberated from that solitary space. In my view, these two contrasting meanings are respectively illustrated in the first and the final shots of the film. Eventually, it remains unfathomable as to where Erika is heading to after she exits the concert hall, as well as what will become of her and her relationships with the mother and Walter. Practically speaking, nothing certain can be deduced regarding the pianist’s whereabouts, especially given the filmmaker’s
avowed refusal to provide any explanations for the meanings of his works.
Nevertheless, the open-ended resolution of The Piano Teacher nicely encapsulates the quintessence of vulnerability, by virtue of its unpredictability, uncontrollability, and complete openness to uncertainty and the unknown. Wherever Erika is heading to, it is most likely a site of ambiguity and ambivalence, where she confronts pain and disturbance, yet is open to affection, alteration, connection, and healing.