Do you know the feeling? You're sitting with colleagues, with people who share the same professional experiences. You're chatting about the content of your daily work, exchanging anecdotes, and feeling comfortably at home in this shared world of experience. You talk—maybe even laugh—about stories and topics that everyone in this field has experienced and keeps encountering. For us puppeteers, there’s one question we've all been asked, whether we work in Austria or Germany: “You’re a puppeteer? Can you make a living from that?”

The short answer: “Yes, you can.” The slightly longer version: “Yes, you can, but it takes considerable effort and only if life runs smoothly and according to plan.”

We are self-employed professionals with irregular working hours—after all, our audiences want to see us in kindergartens in the morning, with the whole family on Sundays, and often in the evenings, too. Most of us are part of the "traveling folk" and set up our mobile stages wherever we’re booked. Multi-day tours are part of our everyday life.

Our income is just as irregular. When bookings go well and 60-hour work weeks are no rarity, we manage—though we need to set aside savings for slow periods. There’s no vacation pay, no sick pay, or continued salary during illness. If you can’t perform, you don’t earn. Insurance for professional absences is either unaffordably expensive or so poorly funded that it barely gets you through a longer stretch of time.

None of this is a problem, because we love our profession. We love the people we can entertain, delight, and move with our stories—who we make laugh, cry, and marvel through our stage work. We overcome smaller obstacles with aspirin or with the help of supportive family and friends who back us up, manage the household, care for the children, and feed the cats so we can carry our stories out into the world.

But what happens when life suddenly doesn’t run smoothly and according to plan—because the most important person from this support network is suddenly gone?

Such is the case with our colleague Annika Pilstl (Theater: die exen). Alongside the unspeakable grief over a beloved person, existential fears quickly arise—fears related to the inability to work, which, at least for a while, seems inevitable.

We, the puppeteers of Upper Austria and the institutions that support puppetry, are therefore launching a support fund for Annika to perhaps relieve her of a small part of the burden she now carries—and to ensure that her magnificent artistic work can continue.

If you are in a position to contribute financially to this initiative, we kindly ask for your support via the bank account listed below. Every amount is welcome and will go entirely to Annika. The account is earmarked, open for one year, and can be used once or multiple times throughout the coming year.

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You can help here. Verein IMAGO Szene Wels,
Support Fund for Annika:
Sparkasse Oberösterreich, Ringstraße 27, 4600 Wels
IBAN: AT83 2032 0321 0072 0270 | BIC: ASPKAT2LXXX
Purpose: Annika

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