Governance, Ghosts and Electricity

The bassline of the day remains unsaid: United in diversity. Artistic directors of UTE theatres came all the way from Athens, Bucharest, Luxembourg, Moscow, Sofia and Vienna to the Yugoslav Drama Theatre, Belgrade, on 17 September 2017. After a first conference in Milan last year, the focus of this exchange on different theatre structures was on Eastern and South Eastern Europe. For the first time, Boris Yukhananov from the Stanislavsky Electrotheatre in Moscow also attended. Meeting the newest member of the UTE.

Boris Yukhananov © Stanislavsky Electrotheatre

The dialogue about theatre structures, about its specific problems in Eastern and South Eastern Europe, took place in a location which, until not too long ago, was a European centre of the Movement of the non-aligned states. At this spatiotemporal crossroads, the collision of two governance models carried weight, which has unfolded in the past 28 years in the course of the eastward expansion of the European Union. Inês Nadais writes in this online magazine about the consequences of this development by focusing on the contributions on the diverging financial settings of theatres in Europe. We could also add Naomi Klein’s popular description of this clash in her book about the shock doctrine, and ask an additional question which many participants in the discussion in Serbia probably were wondering about:And to add a question that probably crossed most people’s minds at the conference: Who even knows the content of the Eastern partnership programmes? Who knows about the subjects of association agreements?

The free space of physical encounter

Once again it became evident how important mobility is for artistic exchange. The personal encounter of theatre makers on this and the other side of the stage does not halt whatever the “bodiless” exchange of ideas bottles up worldwide in the digital age in the form of a collection of emotions on social media or the comment columns in the online publications of small and large media houses. Governments have been soaring ever more frequently to curb these accumulations in a morally impeccable way through legislative packages against “hate speech” and “fake news”. Upon physically entering the conference hall, I have to think about Kadett Pirx who has served as the prime example of such conflicts of the body with the “virtual reality” in so many of the Polish writer Stanisław Lem’s literary parodies. A “reality” for which in 1963 Lem already coined the term “phantomisation” in his book Summa Technologiae. It’s fascinating that the ideas of science fiction writers are put into reality in the Silicon Valley—however, without taking the ethical concerns into account. Worked into the cybernetics and convinced of the game theory, these oft-celebrated innovators of the “inventors” of the digital era frequently remain far behind the revelations which Lem centrally formulated in Summa: “The ‘change’ from one personality to another is possible neither in a reversible nor in an irreversible process, because between such metamorphoses, there is a period of psychological destruction which is equal to the termination of the individual existence.”

Will legal packages be able to counter the protest against the preservation of the individual existence? — Admittedly, Lem’s reflections accompany me in the course of the conference like a stream of consciousness. But once awakened, they stay for the whole day. From the perspective of the theatre as a medium, there is an entirely different quality of the “social medium” in relation to Silicon Valley. The interpersonal sphere shaped by metamorphoses is a theatre maker’s daily routine. Metamorphoses happen all the time on this and the other side of the edge of the stage, always as a physical event, though. We could not imagine a theatre event without them. “Phantasm” alludes to the knowledge about the body as a place for ghosts. Through the passions of the soul they famously carve their expression. Love, hate and desire are their main “tools”. While game theory only knows desire, and forgets about love and hate, theatre needs a complete tool box in order to freely embark upon new endeavours.

The unrigged ghosts of the Stanislavsky method

When theatre makers meet to discuss the conditions of their work, the ghosts of the past are also in the ranks of the audience. The physical presence and with it the internalized ways of acting of culturally different geographical realms thus have limited space for individual expression. Their uninvited attendance can rather be compared to a bassline that all participants have tacitly gotten themselves into, and befittingly attempts to describe the motto of the European Union with the words United in diversity. The influence of the Stalinist Papal State had a standardising popularity with the Stanislavsky method in the theatre systems of the Eastern and South Eastern European countries. Very different from the intentions of one of the founders of the Moscow Art Theatre, Konstantin Stanislavski, around 1900, this acting method was about a rigid exegesis that was based on an appreciation of naturalism. Playwrights, such as Anton Chekhov or Maxim Gorki, had to pay for this in order for a “socialist realism” as a formal aesthetics programme for the education of the “new human” and for the development of a “new society” to be declared. The miles of shelving of publications of books and magazines in libraries are still evidence of the fruitful intellectual engagement during the time of the so-called East West Confrontation. But only there; in Eastern and South Eastern Europe, this oft-quoted “Moscow influence” has long disappeared. And not just there. Since the precipitated implosion of the Soviet Union, which resulted in the turn of eras of 1989/92, diverse structural changes have taken place in the former centre as well, for which the Stanislavsky Electrotheatre sustainably stands.

Cultural politics could have definitely taken a different direction for Moscow, the former European metropolis, now a megapolis, after the Russian director Anatoly Vasiliev lost his theatre, which the municipality gave up for new housing space, shortly after the millennium. The same thing could have happened to the Stanislavski Drama Theatre, the final place of activity of the Russian theatre reformer Konstantin Stanislavski, when it burned down in 2003 and 2005. As a housing space, or as a theatre with its glitzy logo of its founder’s name gutted of its actual artistic work, it would have been sufficient for the city’s marketing to organize a commercially successful company for guest performances, which surely would have worked well according to the principle “communism in the museum”. Instead, the former minister of culture called a competition, which Boris Yukhananov won in 2013. At this point, Yukhananov was 56. He has had a long artistic career, which started in 1974 as an actor at the Moscow State Puppet Theatre. It falls right into the 80s, after his studies at the Voronezh Art Institute. Those times were shaped by Glasnost and Perestroika. He took additional directing classes with Anatoly Efros and Anatoly Vasiliev, and assisted in their productions. His first experiments as a director includes his most famous “Capriccios”, based on court documents of a lawsuit against Joseph Brodsky. Yukhananov isn’t a stranger in the independent scene either, since he founded the first non-government funded theatre group “Teatr Teatr” in 1985.

Just how multi-faceted the structural changes were that took place in the Russian Federation after the turn of eras in 1989/1992, is described by Yukhananov in his contribution to the conference from the perspective of a theatre maker. In doing so, he focusses on the two European centres in Russia, St. Petersburg and Moscow. And we find out that they traditionally have always had their own form of financing. The ministry of cultural affairs first and foremost supports big theatre institutions, such as the Mariinsky Theatre or the Bolshoi Theatre. Under the tenure of the former secretary of culture, new theatre buildings were constructed. Since the year 2000, numerous cultural processes have taken off that are unstoppable. Theatre people felt the freedom, the diversity and the cosmopolitanism. The open borders facilitated interactions with Asian and European cultures, leading to an intermingling that helped the theatre cross borders. In doing so, the theatre was not burdened by commercial doings. Research and theatre laboratories also contributed to great changes in educational institutions. Many young and interesting directors have since entered the stage. There is now a wide range that no longer has anything to do with the stereotypes of the Stanislavsky method. You can’t take back these processes, which is why today there are two systems within the structure that compete with each other. One dates back to the tsar era; the other is a modern one, resulting in a diversity of problems that Russia’s theatre has to deal with today.

Magic in Moscow

Just how tightly the structural changes are tied to the processes of renewal of the actual theatre work is what the Stanislavsky Electrotheatre symptomatically stands for. Anybody who lent their ear to Yukhananov was chastened by his explanations later in the conference. A fundamental approach in the understanding of theatre work was revealed that already sees the sources for artistic production in the architecture of the building: “I completely reconstructed the theatre, from the bathrooms to the stage.”, Yukhananov said, “We have a very modern stage and modern lighting, which is why we’re called Electrotheatre. We invested around half a billion roubles into the reconstruction. The stage can be transformed in various ways. We also have an open-air stage that fits 400 people. But we’re not just a theatre. We actively work with many different events on a daily basis. We also offer lectures and concerts.”

These are pieces of a mosaic that fragmentarily assembled into a picture of contemporary theatre in Russia. Yukhananov explained that it’s a given that Russian society highly values theatre work. And both national as well as multi-national theatre is taking place. There’s an unabated interest in theatre, both with regards to civil society as well as the public authorities. This, however, also harbours its problems. One is the case Kirill Serebrennikov. Others have to do with theatre financing. Financing happens on the municipal level, on the level of the provinces, which Russia is divided into today, or on the level of the federation. A theatre’s own resources are also appreciated. No theatre, though, can exist solely based on the ticket sale. There are also sponsors and founding advisers who distribute money within a private structure on a yearly basis. This, however, has to do with preferences and interests, where theatre work has to compete with sport events. This aspect of gratuitousness has to be taken into account, especially with regards to creating a repertoire.

The pre-Stalinist foundation of the structure already hints to just how multi-facetted the new building that houses the Stanislavsky Electrotheatre embodies the diversity of the national and multi-national societies and declares their artistic ambitions, always with the stipulation of the artistic heritage. It opened as one of the first cinema palaces in 1915 in Moscow, the ARS Electrotheatre. Afterwards it was home to Konstantin Stanislavsky who established a studio for opera and drama there. His head forms part of the theatre’s logo today against the backdrop of rays. They seem like a tribute to Aristophanes, as if the one-hundred-year old ghosts of the past were laid to rest humourously in the theatre’s name and logo. The ensemble looks like a bell of a light bulb that has died out in Europe that may provoke flashes of genius. These inevitably are a credit to Lenin’s slogan that Socialism were Soviet power plus electrification of the whole country. The theatre strives to live up to the threefold use of the location also today—as a cinema, as an opera studio and a drama theatre. To deal with the objectives of the theatre requires sensitivity for magic. It must be a magical place, since they obviously succeeded in liberating the ambitions of the founding figures of the Moscow Art Theatre of more than one hundred years ago from the burdens of Stalinism. Ambitions which have been tied to the roots of theatre in Europe, which is demonstrated by the inclusion of opera: “Personally, I think that it’s really significant to work with contemporary composers”, Yukhananov concludes his contribution to the conference. “We are slowly developing a new face of our theatre. I’m sure you’re just making a sketch of the head right now. Then come the eyes. In theatre, we thus create a body. Through the reconstruction we also got a new body. For drama theatre, it’s now important to also be able to listen. So we have to add ears now.”

In the tradition of the Art Theatre

The Stanislavsky Electrotheatre opened its first season after its reconstruction period with a production of a subject matter whose control text Stanislavsky put on stage in the Moscow Art Theatre in 1908: The Blue Bird by the Belgian playwright Maurice Maeterlinck. Yukhananov directed this text as a theatrical journey of three days that also includes a Boeing 777, which may remind you of the plane that crashed in Ukraine. And just as Yukhananov said during the conference: “We are open for dialogue, and we want to cooperate.”—thus visiting theatre makers have a long-standing tradition with the Art Theatre. Stanislavsky once invited Edward Gordon Craig to rehearse Hamlet with the company. Under Yukhananov’s tenure, Heiner Goebbels realised Max Black, Theodoros Terzopoulos developed The Bacchae by Euripides, and Romeo Castellucci rehearsed his production of Human Use of Human Beings together with the Electrotheatre’s company. The online trailer of the first season, which started in 2016, sets out with humour and ends humorously: Through the masks of the expectation to see Russia’s goats in women and bears in men a multi-naturalism likely presents itself that is so different from the known naturalisms of the 20^th century that new research will surely be introduced into academic considerations as well. The theatre delivers early impulses. The dramatic and the postdramatic theatre, the performative and that which has been theatre since antiquity, which is opera, seem to have newly assembled into a concept of acoustic ecology under the magical direction of Boris Yukhananov. But in order to find out we should follow the invitation made in the online trailer: “Visit us—Tverskaya Street 23”.

Published on 28 December 2017 (Article originally written in German)

Les Misérables?

In a few days two prestigious theatre awards are to be presented at a ceremonial event: the Europe Theatre Prize and the Europe Prize Theatrical Realities. The leading theatre personalities will get together to honor the winners, and to celebrate their considerable contribution to the theatrical arts of the world. Rome is to host the grand event. Meanwhile “the third Rome”—Moscow, that is—has the director who in a few days is to be named among the best in Europe, not only isolated from the world and cut off from all communication (he is under house arrest), but also in fact banished from his profession, the right to pursue which he has proven with his whole life. Kirill Serebrennikov is prevented from visiting his own theatre, he cannot complete his film though work left to be done requires only five days, he cannot associate with his actors, cannot supervise the management of his productions even through a proxy.

Directing is a tenuous business, the dependence on the tools of the trade is great, and besides, as history demonstrates, the tools of the authorities are also something to be taken into account. Neither thinking nor imagining can be prohibited, yet implementing thoughts and images well might be. The director is not forbidden to think, to make up, to envision his future productions – but no production will come to be without trying things this and that way, without talking things over, without the drive of the collective will. In Le Dernier Métro the hero, while hiding from the Nazis in the cellars of his own theatre, still was able to control the staging of the shows. He was cut off from the world, but not from his art. Serebrennikov is allowed to take walks in the vicinity of his residence, but the place where his heart lies – the theatre – is the forbidden grounds for him. Two new shows have already opened in his theatre without the director climbing the stage for the curtain call. Neither will he be on the stage to greet the assembly that will have gathered to present him with the prize. Konstantin Stanislavsky once, in conversation with Solomon Mikhoels, remarked: “To fly, the bird first and foremost needs to breathe freely…” Serebrennikov is denied the access to the air-supply. Yet other theatre people are not all that free-breathing either.

History is sarcastic. It was shrewd of Marx, when elaborating on Hegel’s idea about everything in history occurring twice, to specify that it occurs “the first time as tragedy, the second as farce”. Only three Russian directors have been awarded by the European Commission before Serebrennikov: Lev Dodin was awarded the Europe Theatre Prize in 2001, and Anatoly Vasiliev and Andrey Moguchy each won the Theatrical Realities prize. I think that Serebrennikov, when his life will have returned to normal, will be glad to have become the number four on this list. Buddhism teaches there are four Noble Truths, the fourth being the way leading to the consolation of all kinds of grieves. In Italy, they are only preparing to remind the public about all the winners of the past years—but in Russia they never forgot…

COLTA.RU got hold of a memorandum that is believed to have been written by Vladimir Aristarkhov, the Minister of Culture’s First deputy, and addressed to the Secretary of the St Petersburg Cultural Forum, that lists the unwelcome participants of that Cultural Forum. Among those unwelcome Dmitry Krymov, Lev Dodin, Anatoly Vasiliev and Kirill Serebrennikov are mentioned. Presumably the list features some other names too—several rogues for each art. Russia is so fecund when it comes to bearing talents, but having produced them she mostly rejects them. If she doesn’t devour them Saturn-like outright, she chases them away, expelling them from home. To be proud of them later. Much later.

This memorandum, quite nasty as it is, looks somewhat absurd for having come from inside the ministry that is supposed to stand for cultural and humanitarian development. The style, the language, the labeling are quite scary, yet the consequences of such memoranda might be even more frightening. What has been written with a pen cannot be wrenched out with an axe, as the saying goes. But one sure can effectively wield an axe over culture, after the manner of Lopachin dealing with the Cherry Orchard.

Where, in what universities do they teach the art of portraying theatre directors in this particular way?

On Serebrennikov: “[…] contributes to eroding the traditional Russian spiritual and moral values, and to weakening the unity of the multi-national people of the Russian Federation (including deliverance of the low-class mass-culture produce); there were attempts to falsify Russian history”.

On Vasiliev: “Considerable part of his creative work are vanguard experimenting, as well as radical interpretations of literary sources, that aim at deconstructing the national theatre artistic tradition, as well as the traditional Russian values. He has a tendency to choose those forms of art that shape the depressive model of mind-set.”

On Dodin: “In his creative endeavors, Dodin tends to erode the traditional Russian spiritual and moral values, as well as to attempt to falsify the history of Russia. He apparently shares the political views of the ‘opposition’.”

The memorandum really reads like an indictment; so much so that one actually expects a sentence to be passed. And, indeed, texts like this are “guilty verdicts” of sorts. But whether they brand the persons mentioned, or the persons that have written them remains yet to be seen.

It is quite possible that the ministry will disavow this memorandum, claiming it is a fake. One can only wish they would, and that it were a fake. Yet the very fact that people so easily believe in its authenticity is symptomatic… The way that the cultured community is used to looking at the Minister of Culture makes one wonder whether the words they both have for a modifier are indeed derived from the same root, and it is a significant and alarming fact. Considering “culture” initially meant “tillage”, why, we may well go from digging in the vegetable gardens to digging trenches, and from weeding the grounds to purging the ranks… That’s our theatre reality, our theatre prize. What have we done to deserve it?

Considering it is all about the Gogol Centre, this calls for quoting Gogol’s work: “Answer me! But no answer comes…”*

Autor’s note: UPD According to the information of the St. Petersburg online newspaper “Fontanka.ru“, the Minister of Culture, speaking at the Cultural Forum, called information on blacklists an “anecdote”. “Andrey Moguchy has been reassigned by the director of the Bolshoi Drama Theater, he now leads the “Theatre” section at the Culture Forum. “We are building the second theatre to Lev Dodin (the second stage of the Maly Drama Theatre – Ed.). This is the largest construction of the Drama Theatre in St. Petersburg or Russia. They are handwritten notes (the names of Dodin and Moguchy were added to the list of the Ministry of Culture by hand. – Ed.) Do you seriously think that this is true? Do not laugh,” the minister answered.”

* “And you, Russia of mine—are not you also speeding like a troika which nought can overtake? Is not the road smoking beneath your wheels, and the bridges thundering as you cross them, and everything being left in the rear, and the spectators, struck with the portent, halting to wonder whether you be not a thunderbolt launched from heaven? What does that awe-inspiring progress of yours foretell? What is the unknown force which lies within your mysterious steeds? Surely the winds themselves must abide in their manes, and every vein in their bodies be an ear stretched to catch the celestial message which bids them, with iron-girded breasts, and hooves which barely touch the earth as they gallop, fly forward on a mission of God? Whither, then, are you speeding, O Russia of mine? Whither? Answer me! But no answer comes—only the weird sound of your collar-bells. Rent into a thousand shreds, the air roars past you, for you are overtaking the whole world, and shall one day force all nations, all empires to stand aside, to give you way!”. Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol.

Published on 21 November 2017 (Article originally written in Russian)

The Rich and the Poor: Coming Together and Drifting Apart in the European Theatrical Landscape

Money (or the lack of it) was a recurring issue during the second conference on theatre structures promoted by the Union des Théâtres de l’Europe. Between the State and the market, financial gymnastics tends to be the rule — but there are some exceptions.

Conference on Theatre Structures at the Yugoslav Drama Theatre in Belgrade, Serbia

As the peak of the economic and financial crisis that paralyzed Europe during the last decade — to a greater or lesser extent, according to the strength and the resilience of national budgets — seems finally overcome (or so they say…), money is still the elephant in the room when it comes to analyzing the differing (and often conflicting) paradigms that rule the arts, and theatre in particular, in the European context. Indeed that’s how it felt a year ago in Milan, when the Union des Théâtres de l’Europe (UTE) held the first of its conferences on theatre structures, in an event that finally materialized not only the thousands of kilometers but also the thousands of euros that keep the Teatro Nacional de São João, in Porto, apart from co-members such as the Schauspiel Stuttgart or the Piccolo Teatro de Milano (eventually leaving some room for debate on the uncomfortable transit between theatre and politics in turbulent contexts such as Tunisia or Israel). And again, that’s how it felt a week ago in Belgrade, where the impact of the still ongoing shift from Eastern Europe’s hyper-regulated and hyper-centralized systems to a market economy was in the spotlight, framing the more or less converging experiences of Bulgaria’s Sfumato, Romania’s Teatrul Bulandra, Serbia’s Yugoslav Drama Theatre (JDP), Greece’s National Theatre of Greece in Athens, and Russia’s Stanislavsky Electrotheatre.

The price of adjusting to a new environment which is mostly defined by the state’s retreat and the scarcity of available funds is a common feature to most of the theatres working beyond the former Iron Curtain, despite regional differences. “We all face similar problems, but in the Serbian case they’re aggravated by the fact that the system itself is going through changes. Yes, we do need more funds—but we also need a new model”, said Tamara Vučković Manojlović, JDP’s general manager, right at the opening of the conference. “The laws that have recently been approved do not acknowledge the cultural sector’s specific characteristics, and public funds decrease as the idea that theatre must adapt to the principles of a market economy makes its way”, she added. Today, YDT’s ticket sales revenues make up for 18–22% of its total budget and the emphasis on diversifying the theatre’s sources of income has led to the frequent rental of its rooms, a side-activity which already represents a “substantial” cash flow.

Also in Bulgaria, where the State’s investment in the cultural sector remains at 0.5% of the country’s GDP, the funding mechanisms behind its 35 public theatres also began fluctuating according to the laws of the market. “Starting eight years ago, the budget of each and every theatre depends on the ticket sales—we’re now under the market’s Diktat”, Sfumato’s artistic director Margarita Mladenova argued. This new funding system, she explained, pushes theatres towards a serial production approach, eventually compromising long, experimental artistic processes, such as the ones that historically defined the Sfumato: “We’re strongly advised to rehearse less and sell more. Breeding new actors, new poetics and new aesthetics is currently marginalized.” Meanwhile, whole theatrical seasons gravitating around famous, crowd-pleasing TV stars abound, sacrificing the institutions’ long-established artistic identities: “To make sure they make enough money, directors cast ‘dancing bears’ [A/N popular TV actors] in the leading roles, and the remaining actors are forced to gravitate around them so they can be paid. It’s atrocious.”, Mladenova stated, advocating for a new funding system that may replace the “emphasis on consumerism” by highlighting artistic integrity and further regulating the local administrations’ financial contribution to Bulgaria’s theatrical landscape (the current set of rules favours rather arbitrary funding policies).

In Romania, where municipal budgets are a key-element to the survival of the country’s public theatre network (only national theatres are directly State-financed, and less than 0.8% of the GDP is invested in the cultural sector); the paradigm is changing, too. Bucharest is definitely a world apart—three million people, half of the country’s GDP, a billion-euro municipal budget, 28 cultural institutions, 14 city-funded theatres—, but outside the capital city survival is especially hard, Teatrul Bulandra’s Alexandru Darie pointed out. Both the market and the rules defining how to access the municipal funds (about 70–80% of the total budget, in Bulandra’s case) pave the way for an industrial, mass-production model: new productions tend to multiply (seven to ten per year being the current average) as the shows’ careers are downsized (a maximum of 10 to 15 sessions per show).

Meanwhile, on yet another front, the “extraordinary boom” of private theatres which proliferate in alternative venues is reshaping Romania’s theatrical landscape—“for better and for worse”, according to Alexandru Darie. “Private theaters are more likely to forgo legislation or evade their fiscal responsibilities and have lighter structures that tend to be more flexible and free from administrative constraints. So, it’s an unfair competition for public theatres, which only this year were again granted permission to hire new actors and technicians [in the aftermath of the 2008 crisis, this was strictly ruled out]. An actor we recently hired for a new production of Ivanov told us that while we were paying him about 100 euros a night for burning himself out and weighing two kilos less after each performance, a private theatre would pay him twice as much just to sit in a chair and tell jokes”, Bulandra’s artistic director reported. Then again, it’s also true, he admitted, that the freedom of action of the private arena has allowed for the appearance of “emerging talents (actors, directors, etc.) that are now finally permeating the public theatres”, eventually updating their repertoires and their theatrical languages”.

“At the moment, it is a war, but I hope that in the end the clash between these two worlds will benefit the public theatres”, Alexandru Darie summed up, endorsing a new framework in which these institutions “heavily controlled by the State and local administrations” (“We must demand permission for everything!”) can have higher flexibility and autonomy levels.

Just like in Bulgaria, a structural change also seems inevitable in Romania: “Maybe we must follow the examples set by Italy or Germany and redefine the status of our theatres, a move some of my colleagues are afraid of because they suspect change will mean less funding.” Anyway, the current legal framework has also proven insufficient as far as benefactors’ and sponsors’ incentives are concerned: “The system favours investing in festivals, which is where all the rich and nicely dressed people show up; nobody will care for the theatres’ daily activities unless the law is reformed.”

Transitioning

Meanwhile, in Vladimir Putin’s Russia, where State control assumes spookier nuances (as it has recently been underlined by the painful Kyril Serebrennikov’s case), the systemic shock caused by the collapse of the USSR seems far from digested. Part of the “enormous structure” set up by the communist regime in every corner of the country is still on—about 700 theatres are supported either by the State or the local administrations—, but in many cases (including the historical ballet and opera theatres of Moscow and Saint Petersburg, the Bolshoi and the Mariinsky) their dotation doesn’t even cover these institutions’ heavy operating costs (needless to say, fixed ensembles tend to be a sacred rule). In fact, and given the lack of resources, theatres are tangled in complex financial gymnastics, juxtaposing highly volatile public and private funds, said Boris Yukhananov, Stanislavsky Electrotheatre’s artistic director. “Government is very much for the establishment of benefactor councils for every theatre, and that’s how many companies survive. As for the municipal funds, they too tend to fluctuate according to the mayor’s preferences… But Voronezh is a fine example—and there are others—of the renaissance of a contemporary culture”, he mentioned. In this “gradual transitioning context from centralization to decentralization”, theatre is still overwhelmingly non-commercial: “Some commercial theatres try to be self-sufficient, but normally they don’t succeed.”

The Stanislavsky Electrotheatre is one of those examples of cross-pollination between public and private dotation. Established more than a century ago, in 1915, it was one of the first grand cinemas in Moscow before eventually becoming Konstantin Stanislavsky’s studio; since 2013 it’s Boris Yukhananov’s new home, a multidisciplinary venture where theatre, opera and music converge. “In early 2013, the theatre was in a very delicate situation and the city of Moscow ran a public competition for the post of artistic director; I applied and got appointed. In theory, the city would provide all the funding, but I would never choose that kind of slavery to the authorities, if only for the fact that our artistic visions don’t match. Presently, the city feeds our budget with one million euros while the remaining five or six million euros come from benefactors”, the director went into detail. Total investment in the reconstruction of the theatre is in the vicinity of one billion rubles, he added. “If we manage to prove we double as an opera theatre, we may double the current dotation”, Boris Yukhananov said, highlighting “the important work” that the Stanislavsky Electrotheatre has developed with contemporary composers.

The eye of the crisis

Although in the Eastern countries the cumulative effect of the ongoing paradigm shift and the economic crisis has aggravated the inevitable growing pains, no European country has been more deeply affected by the financial decay than Greece. Stathis Livanthinos, National Theatre of Greece’s artistic director, came to Belgrade to tell us about survival in the eye of the crisis, with less than half of the good old days’ budget to manage (the institution’s dotation declined from 12 to six million euros), and no chance of easing the burden of its expensive staff structure (250 workers and a permanent ensemble of one hundred actors), whose salaries currently consume all the available funds—ticket sales are the only source of funding for theatre production itself. “It’s a feature of the National Theatre of Greece Basic Law, which has been approved in the 90s. I tried to change that rule, because, as you can imagine, it’s extremely difficult to survive given these conditions, but the idea is that in times of crisis there should be at least a place where Greek actors can work and get paid”, he explained.

The budget’s drastic downsizing threatens the National Theatre of Greece’s main mission, since its ability to reach beyond the city of Athens and to penetrate the whole country is now weakened: “The National Theatre of Greece is in danger of becoming just the National Theatre of Athens; the current financial situation makes it very hard to be present on a national level.” Besides, the crisis has also undermined the State’s ability to support theatrical activity: “The Ministry of Culture used to subsidize theatres across the country. It’s over now. Only the National Theatre of Greece and the National Theatre of Northern Greece [A/N also a member of the UTE] are State-financed. In fact, the percentage of the national budget that is available for culture is so low that I’m ashamed to quantify it.”

Relying on ticket revenues to finance new productions, and at the same time seriously constrained by the audience’s declining purchasing power (which eventually forced the institution to implement a new reduced price policy, so the common Greek could still afford going to the theatre), the National Theatre of Greece can no longer guarantee its quality standards. And that’s also due to the fact that the legal framework does not suit the attraction of new, alternative sources of income: “A few years ago I started looking for sponsors and benefactors, but we need more adequate legislation. Some companies did give us money because they like what we do, but all that we can give them back is some publicity in our programmes… and so the National Theatre of Greece risks seeing its name being swallowed up by private companies and losing its public character”, Stathis Livanthinos argued.

Not everything is tragic in the country where tragedy was invented, though: the crisis years were also, paradoxically, years of theatrical abundance, with an average of a thousand new shows per year just to mention Athens (even if in many cases the artists did not get paid) and finally, “for the first time in too many years”, the Ministry of Culture could hand out about 100 million euros to independent theatre companies.

Over the rainbow

But there is a parallel universe in this story—and it belongs in Europe, too. A parallel universe where talking about theatre doesn’t necessarily mean “talking about money” (“which, besides being unpleasant, is incorrect”, as Stathis Livanthinos pointed out). Luxembourg, for instance, whose young national theatre was established in 1996 after the overwhelming success of the European Capital of Culture of the preceding year. Frank Hoffmann, director (and founder!) of Théâtre National du Luxembourg, did not come to Belgrade to speak about funding but to discuss issues of mission and identity in a small country of 500 thousand inhabitants where almost half of the population is of foreign origin and speaks another language.

Vienna’s Volkstheater is also a world apart—as is the entire theatrical landscape of Austria, a topic that another article of this online magazine will further develop. So apart from that, somewhere over the rainbow, many million euros away, as Theatre and Dance Unit Chief at the Arts and Culture Department of the Federal Chancellery, Andrea Ruis, and Volkstheater’s artistic director, Anna Badora, described “the best system in the world” (Badora’s words) the remaining speakers finally found the good news they were so desperate to bring back home.

Published on 29 September 2017 (Article originally written in Portuguese)

Russian Theatres – Searching for Balance

In the last 20 years theatre has kept pace with changes in civil society in Russia. Society has changed a lot, and the total number of theatres has grown substantially since the 1990s. The reason for this renaissance of theatre is the rising economy and, as the result, the increase in the median income. After the want for tangible status objects has been satisfied, people crave experience: theatre is in vogue now, and, on top of that, going to the theatre is considered to be sophisticated.

Theatre in general—and especially in Russia—is much more than an entertainment facility. It is the keeper of the national cultural and linguistic heritage, the source of inspiration and creativity, and the carrier of social values. One of the primary goals of the government is to provide all Russian citizens with access to these works of art. Prominent members of the cultural community such as Alexander Kolyagin, chairman of the Russian Theatre Union and director of the ‘Et cetera’ theatre, have declared theatre a public good which organizes the social environment and that it is not a service measured by profitability. Theatre’s contribution to social capital is invaluable, which is why government support for theatre ought to be considered investment rather than spending.

Some facts and figures

According to the national statistics, the number of state and municipal theatres reached 651 in 2016. That same year, 87,553 people were employed as actors, stage crew and administrative staff. The theatre companies used 1394 buildings, 20% of which were listed as cultural heritage. However, almost 25% of buildings were in unsatisfactory condition and in dire need of serious reconstruction. This issue is critical for regional theatres which cannot afford reconstruction and renovation of their facilities or some theatres actually fear that the buildings and premises where they are based might be taken from them by investors. The total capacity of the venues amounted to 234,028 seats. Only 2% of the seats were fit to be used by physically disabled people.

In 2016, almost 3,000 plays were played in the Russian state theatres. It amounted to 175,452 performances, including guest (17%) and tour performances in Russia and abroad (3%). Most productions were of plays by classic foreign authors of the 19 and 20^th century and by authors of the Soviet era. The plays written by the modern Russian authors make only 17% of new drama productions. 1.7 billion rubles (25.8 million dollars) were spent on new productions.

For the 2015/2016 season total attendance of theatres was 31.5 million. It is a depressingly small figure if we consider the Russian population—only 250 out of 1,000 people. One of the reasons of the low attendance is the scarcity of regional theatres. There are only 3.2 theatres for every one million people, and only 18.8% of Russian cities have at least one theatre. Moreover, almost half of the population lives in places where they cannot get to any theatre at all. Surveys show that 47% of respondents visit theatres rarely, while 29% of respondents have never attended a theatre in their life.

Legal status and government funding

As to their legal status, Russian theatres can be divided into two categories: state and municipal theatres, and private theatres. State and municipal theatres are again divided into non-commercial organizations, budget-based organizations and state-owned or autonomous organizations; the latter being relatively new. Since 2007, some non-commercial and budget-based theatres in regions all over Russia were changed into autonomous organizations. State theatres can be also classified according to the authority they are dependent on: federal theatres, local theatres, theatres of the Ministry of Culture and theatres of other agencies. Private theatres can be both commercial and non-commercial organizations of various legal forms. In Russia the role of personality in history is of critical importance. As a result, not only economic, but cultural well-being of the region largely depends on the good will and resources of the governor.

State funding is the primary source of income for the majority of state and municipal theatres. According to the reports of the Ministry of Culture, their total 2016 budget was 81 billion rubles (1.3 billion dollars). Only 29% came from the own revenue of theatres while the major share of annual income proceeded from the federal (66%) and regional or municipal budgets (3%). For some theatres the share of government funding exceeded 75% of the annual budget. Donations of sponsors accounted for slightly more than 2% of the theatres’ annual budget.

The unfortunate reality is that all state theatres are commercially unprofitable, and there is no exception to that rule. Even well-known repertory theatres running a significant number of performances in a season cannot make it to zero profit to cover expenses. If we rank state theatres according to the total income they get from all sources the chart-toppers will be the high-class theatres of Moscow and St. Petersburg: the Bolshoy theatre (Moscow), the Mariinsky Theatre (St. Petersburg), the Mikhailovsky Theatre, the Vachtangov theatre (Moscow), the Moscow Art Theatre (Moscow), the Variety Theatre (Moscow), etc. Some experts see the root of the problem in the lack of competition between state theatres. Trying harder to attract consumers would encourage them to improve the product, the same as with any other market.

An autonomous theatre receives funding via a government procurement contract, a so-called municipal task for a specific financial period (three years). Curiously, this form of support sets the theatre on the same level with other social services for residents. The list of services and the standards of their quality are defined by the federal agency in charge of the particular sphere area. In our case it is the Ministry of Culture and the municipal Department of Culture. The theatre is obliged to produce a specified number of shows in total, mount a specified number of new productions, attract no less than a specified number of visitors and sell no less than a specified number of tickets. The list also includes the number of tours and guest performances, of participation in festivals, and of having provided services to disabled people. Quality of services is also measured by the percentage of the house capacity filled, the growth rate of audience attendance compared to last year, percentage of audience satisfied with the provided service and other indicators. The agency calculates the costs for the planned work in advance and allocates a fixed amount of funding to get the work done. By the end of each year the theatre reports the figures by filling the special form that covers all the parameters. The report is publicly available on the theatre’s web page. If the task is not accomplished 100%, funding may be reconsidered for the next period.

Other funding methods include subsidies and fellowships that are annually allocated to theatres in all regions of the Russian Federation. 600 state theatres are allocated regular subventions on an annual basis. Leading theatres receive grants from the President of Russia which are mostly spent on the salaries of actors and staff. Prominent artists receive personal grants to establish workshops and produce new plays. The Theatre Union of the Russian Federation conducts professional laboratories and schools to foster innovations and improve creative and management skills of staff members. Young people employed in the field of art get a monthly raise of 20,000 rubles (~283 euro) from the Russian government. 147 municipal theatres will be given 670 million rubles (9,477,000 euro) for the period of 2017–2020 to renovate their infrastructure, and to bear other expenses.

From time to time one government official or another will point out that approaches to the funding of state and municipal theatres ought to be changed from a fixed to fellowship-based system so that more efficient theatres would get more money. It is not a trivial task since the criteria of efficiency for theatres have been the subject of hot debates. The whole optimization talk may be an attempt to further reduce the gradually decreasing amount of support for culture (which hardly reaches 0.5% GDP).

Some theatres already know that their future funding will be cut down and go through the trouble of providing some safety nets for themselves. The Mariinsky Theatre, for instance, uses its main stage all year round and closes it for reconstruction only for ten days during the summer. When the theatre is on holiday or on a tour, the stage is used by invited companies. The Fyodor Volkov Drama theatre (Yaroslavl) is ready to reconsider its staff schedule and to prioritize its renovation works. The number of performances and hosted international festivals will stay on the same level at any rate, though. Perm Youth theatre and Khabarovsk Youth theatre will have to turn down tours and postpone the planned increase in salaries. However, they are optimistic and are ready to contest for external grants and projects and use internal resources more efficiently in the production of new plays.

Festivals and tours

Theatre festivals are a bright and distinguishing feature of the Russian cultural scene. According to the Russian Union of Theatre Actors, 256 festivals of various art forms are held annually in almost 100 cities. The most well known are the Golden Mask, the Chekhov theatre as well as other festivals that take place in Moscow. Regional Russian theatres regularly host versatile festivals from Europe.

Theatres from central cities and regions frequently give guest performances in other regions during the summer. Touring shows add considerably to local repertoires, increasing and diversifying them, providing a wider choice for the audience as the usual repertoire of a regional theatre is 10–15 shows running year in year out. Travel expenses for tours abroad are compensated either by the Russian Ministry of Culture or by the host country. In 2014, a programme called “Big Tours” (Bolshie gastroli) was established. It promotes tours of federal theatres and theatres of the Ministry of Culture to regions. Plays for a young audience are especially welcome because commercial tours consider them as unprofitable and do not usually include them in their programme. The goal of the programme is to make theatre shows available in the regions which don’t have enough funds to invite theatres on their own. In 2017, the tours are to cover 45 regions of the Russian Federation, 70 cities in total. The federal government compensates the theatre and covers its travel expenses, while the regions are in charge of the accommodation costs and the technical rider. Ticket pricing policy is also left to the regions.

Youth theatre

Youth theatre for children and teenagers is a highly regarded art form in Russia. Theatre is one of the crucial channels of socialization, and cultivation of artistic and creative taste. The effect that first positive impressions have on the forming of the future appetite for arts are invaluable. It is important for a youth theatre to talk about important topics, such as tolerance, loneliness, and suicide. In 2016, 11% of state and municipal theatres were youth theatres while almost 70% of guest performances in other regions were productions of plays from the youth theatre repertoire. 57% of performances given by state and municipal theatres were targeted at a young audience. At 39 festivals, the total number of youth festivals in Russia is quite substantial. In 2017 and later, youth theatres will get approx. 4.2 million euro annually from the state. Approximately 3 million will be divided between regional and municipal youth theatres. The funding will be primarily aimed at new productions to diversify the repertory.

There are lots of theatres for younger children, including puppet theatres; at the same time, there is still a lack of theatres for teenagers or 12+ audiences. Despite the fact that lots of repertory theatres have performances based on literature from the school curriculum in literature, there are still problems that are important for teenagers but are not featured in plays. Teenagers have definitely grown out of fairy-tales with saccharine heroes fashioned to fit the Soviet didactical “Tuyz” (Theatre for the young audience) manner. However, adult issues in dramas may seem too complicated. Long-windedness and a patronizing manner should be avoided under any circumstances.

Recently youth theatre has been infused with new blood—some young directors who are not shy of experimenting, have joined the field. In 2016, the eminent festival “Golden Mask” established a separate section for youth theatres, the Kids’ Weekend, that showcases productions for every age: from toddlers to teenagers. Sixteen shows from various regions of Russia included in the programme yielded a high attendance rate.

Private youth theatres are usually small-scale and mobile. They often play at schools, kindergartens and other education centres because they cannot afford renting a proper venue with a stage, and their scenery is usually easily transportable. Some of them have regular tours in Europe. When a small youth theatre and a large drama theatre work together, it may be very fruitful and blend fresh ideas with funds. Theatres have opened up the laboratory of youth theatre where young directors have a chance to put on new plays of contemporary playwrights. The Meyerhold centre established a program “The Meyerhold Centre for Children”, where actors put a young audience in touch with the art of telling literary texts.

Private theatres: spectacle or laboratory

Private theatres get support through project financing, and they may also contest for state financing. In 2016, 43 private theatres from St. Petersburg got 496,000 euro funding from the City Department of Culture. Non-financial support, such as providing additional venues, is also a great help, as the rent accounts for the lion share of fixed costs. It also includes preferential loans, insurance, social waivers, etc. However, such support creates a tricky interdependence between the theatre and the government. Some government officials use the threat to cut support, or to demand a much more detailed report on used funds, as leverage and as a means to control the repertory of an independent theatre. This is the case of the Theatre.doc, and theatre studio under the guidance of Kirill Serebrennikov.

Apart from the stage activity, theatres raise money from event management, film production, participations in concerts, etc. Some theatres attract sponsors who give money on new theatre productions in exchange for advertisement, or request discounts from energetic companies in exchange for tickets. Other theatres receive regular donations from entrepreneurs, like the Sergey Zchenovach Theatre.

Small-scale theatres spark with innovative and contradictory productions and imaginative ideas, but are short of capital. On the contrary, non-repertory companies are profitable and successfully compete with the repertory theatre. Some non-repertory companies, like the Anthon Chekhov theatre, the Independent theatre project, the Art-Partner XXI, the Quartet ‘I’ and others have been on the theatre market for more than ten years. Their reasons for success are obvious. Theatres cater to the tastes of a mass audience. There are usually one or two hits in the season, comedies, romance and detectives with star actors in leading roles. Half of the performances are played in another region. Theatres economize on the number of employed actors (not more than seven/eight per performance), on the rehearsal period, on scenery (no complex pivotal element), on rental costs (going from one rental venue to another), and maximize the revenue from box sales (the stage hall not smaller than 700–1000 chairs). The engagement process is much simpler since actors are contract workers.

Amateur theatres

Amateur theatres are financed by their participants, volunteers and through crowd funding. They may seem insignificant and hardly worth to be mentioned when we speak about professional theatres, but these tiny art groups are the basis of any theatrical activity. Amateur theatres sometimes conceive new initiatives and practices and, like caterpillars transforming into butterflies, evolve into professional, albeit small, units, and establish their own culture niches. Stanislavsky himself and his troupe started putting on amateur performances on the home stage of their mansion.

Amateur theatres often engage semi-professional actors, such as students of theatre schools, who will participate just for the fun of it, and to practice. Sometimes they get a place free of rent for rehearsals and performances in exchange for teaching children and participating in municipal cultural events. In some aspects amateur theatres may well exceed expectations and adhere enthusiastically to professional ethics and best practices. For instance, the Fellowship Art Group in Moscow successfully purchased official licenses for the production of German and American musicals (Rebecca, Tick, Tick,…Boom!, I love you, You’re Perfect, Now Change). As a half-professional theatre they got a discount on rights by declaring a limited number of shows. In artistic aspects, however, no discounts were made: the scripts were translated into Russian; shows involved actors with decent vocal and artistic skills that had auditioned for the play; and there was live music and a modest but stylish scenery.

Conclusion

Traditional or repertory theatre has been known in Russia for two centuries now. Having a permanent ensemble is the cradle of innovative art and improves traditional art. Distinguished artists pass their skills to younger actors in the course of the intensive work interaction. It will be long until the theatre depends less on the government funding. Without support, traditional theatre would have merely an entertaining role and would have a limited repertory. People in small cities would be even farther away from having a touring theatre in their vicinity, since they don’t have any buildings spacious enough to serve as venues where a commercial company would care to perform.

Live art is in eternal motion and in a constant search for balance. Formalistic and matter-of-fact practices are not what theatre needs. Vladimir Vysotsky, iconic Russian bard and, by the way, the actor of the Taganka theatre, sang about the rope-walker: “Look! He’s facing a fall—on the cord he’s again! Not protected at all, is he sane or insane? Just the tiniest swerve—and around he’ll be thrust. But there must be a reason why he needs to pass the full four quarters of the path!” Theatre is taking the long and winding road to the future. We are lucky to witness its transformation to something even more awe inspiring.

This article was co-written by Oxana Bondarenko and Emiliia Dementsova.

Oxana Bondarenko is an experienced researcher in applied economics. She gained deep understanding in such fields as trade and regulatory policy, corruption, agriculture, budget reform, culture policy. Bondarenko has analyzed the effect of films on trust and altruism, and has investigated price strategies of theatres and demand on theatre tickets for the Russian Ministry of Culture, reviewed articles on economics of theatre for two academic journals. Bondarenko’s academic interests lie in the field of economic psychology. She is a PhD student at the Higher School of Economics and conducts laboratory experiments to study economic models of rationality of the human behavior. She also acts in the amateur musical theatre.

Emiliia Dementsova is a theatre critic, lecturer and the script editor-in-chief at the cinema company Sputnik. She is a PhD candidate at the Lomonosov Moscow State University and is also a member of the International Association of Theatre Critics, and the Russian Union of Journalists. Dementsova has acted as a cultural columnist for «Critical Stages», «European Stages», The Hollywood Reporter, Komsomolskaya Pravda, Theatron, Theatre World, among others. She is a scholar of the Oxford Russia Fund. She received the International Press Club award called Challenge – XXI century for a series of theatre reviews she authored and Russian national literary award “Golden Feather”.

Published on 12 September 2017 (Article originally written in Russian)

The Threesome Tango: Spectator-Theatre-State

They say in Russia: “If he beats you, it means he loves you”. This attitude, which may strike a foreigner as a bizarre one, can hardly surprise any Russian as a thing much out of the ordinary. Recently the media and social networks were racked with violent debates on the issue of decriminalizing domestic violence. Even though the draft of the law that will decriminalize domestic violence has been denounced by the general public, it has been passed by the legislators, and now beating up one’s near and dear ones is not a crime but a misdemeanor to be looked into by administrative bodies (in the case of the first offence, that is).

In Russia the theater is an object of great love, and it is something to take pride in and brag about. As one of Chekhov’s characters worded it, “We can’t do without the theatre”, and the public, even if bemoaning the high prices of the tickets, still will now and then fall to a theatre-going spree. The spectator is a co-creator of the performance, just like the actor. The contemporary theatre won’t stand for its audience to stay unconcerned and apathetic, but will demand from it the maximum degree of involvement. Unlike the actors, the spectator is “a player who plays many roles”, and thus has to know how to tune to each new show, how to be sensitive, daring, and prepared for the discoveries that are to be made. I teach a class at the Moscow School of Journalism, of the Central House of the Journalists’, my course is an optional one, it is titled “Profession: Theatergoer”, and its objective is to teach theatre-goers to understand and accept theatrical experiments and forms that are most diverse. The theatre can do without the director, the playwright, the designer, and even without actors, but not without the public; that very public which has so often been reproached for the lack of comprehension, narrow-mindedness (the stalls and the gallery alike), ignorance, and shallowness. Yet without it the theatre can’t exist. In my first lecture I suggested to my students (the first group turned out to be 100 percent female, ages ranging from 17 to 65) to answer the question: “Why do you go to the theatre?” The answers more or less neatly fell into the following groups:

Need to have social interaction, to communicate with live people
Tradition/habit
To “go out”/it is fashionable
Seeking emotional impact
Seeking aesthetic pleasure
Self-improvement
To forget about problems! escapism
For entertainment
In search of a miracle!

My colleagues (critics also are spectators, aren’t they?) insist that theatre helps them to develop their own creative faculties, helps them to study, to learn new things, and instructs them in understanding oneself and the history of our country. As to the role of the theatre in social shifts, its ability to change the surrounding life, to help us understand people belonging to cultures different from ours, to be less ethno-centric, and more tolerant, why, we have had talks about this too.

The theatre does influence the public, that’s indisputable, but the reverse is also true: in the recent years the public in Russia has been wielding considerable influence over the theatre. And when I say “influence”, I don’t mean the effect that the audience’s bursting into applause or angry shouts may have upon the development of any performance, nor the fact that shows that fail to win the public close and get excluded from theatre repertoires. Critical reviews don’t have that strong a sway over theatre life as letters from audience members. Letters addressed to the office of the Public Prosecutor, or other governmental bodies of similar caliber, in which the writers demand that their addressees have this or that show shut down, and the author punished. People who work in theatres now know the articles of the RF Criminal Code that cover offending religious feelings of the believers inside out – the offence that is mostly imputed by the vigilant public to the directors who are alert to social controversies and touch upon socially raw spots. The “Free Word” association made a report titled “Russia, 2016-2017. Violations of and the government imposed restrictions upon the freedom of speech, freedom of press, freedom of expression”, with one of the chapters devoted to censorship in theatre: the “culture managing” governmental bodies acting dictatorial, depriving “harmful” art of state subsidizing, censorship introduced due to “feelings of the believers being offended”.

The precedent case, the one that became the symbol of oppression and bans in the sphere of theatre, was that of “Tannhäuser” staged by Timofey Kulyabin. The story that makes the plot of Richard Wagner’s opera was transported to the contemporary world: the titular character is a film director who is making a movie about the unknown, the sinful life of Jesus Christ. The charge against Timofey Kulyabin and Boris Mezdrich, the head of the Novosibirsk State Opera and Ballet Theatre, was that of defiling religious symbols intentionally and publicly. The criminal case was initiated upon the complaint filed by Tikhon, Metropolitan of Novosibirsk and Berdsk in January of 2015. Metropolitan Tikhon found that treatment of the opera’s plot offensive to the feelings of the believers. But on 10 March, Justice of the Peace of the Central district of the city of Novosibirsk discontinued the proceedings against Mezdrich and Kuliabin, due to insufficient evidence. The Public Prosecutor’s office appealed against that ruling, but later recalled their appeal. On 29 March, Mezdrich was fired by Vladimir Medinsky, the Minister of Culture. To fill Mezdrich’s office Vladimir Kekhman was appointed, who extirpated the opera from the repertoire. On 13 April, the Investigation Department of the Siberian Federal District of the Investigative Committee of Russia declined to initiate criminal proceedings against Mezdrich and Kulyabin. The resolution was based on the results of the preliminary examination.

It was to be followed by:

10 events in the theatre life of Russia in 2015-2017

2015 – The “Glavplakat” association placed a banner right across the Ministry of Culture premises that read “Do we need this kind of culture” and showed photos of several directors: of Kirill Serebrennikov, Konstantin Bogomolov, Timofey Kulyabin, as well as one of Marat Guelman, gallery owner. The site of the Association imparted upon its readers the following:

“The banner honors these Russian directors:

Timofey Kulyabin, who crucified Christ between the legs of a naked woman in his version of ‘Tannhäuser’;

Konstantin Bogomolov, who presented the crucifix as a naked woman in his version of the play ‘The Ideal Husband’;

Kirill Serebrennikov, who desecrated icons in his stage version of the fairy-tale ‘The Golden Cockerel’, as well as the gallery owner Marat Guelman, who gathered all the objects that offended believers in one place, making the exhibition ‘Russia 2’.”

“In all epochs culture and art have marked the highest point of the societal evolution. All the newest, most progressive and valuable ideas have always reflected in works of art. And now, in present-day Russia they are trying to persuade us that the best our society can achieve is spitting into another person’s soul, mocking things valuable or even sacred to multitudes.

“We refuse to believe that it is indeed so. It seems to us that these people, who have wantonly privatized the title ‘contemporary and progressive artist’ are just ordinary deceivers. That’s neither culture nor art, that’s some freak-show, exploiting shocking tricks. Stop buying fakes.”

“What I’d like to say: they could have made a better likeness of me”, commented Konstantin Bogomolov on his FB page. “Will you kindly contact me the next time? I will be only too happy to sit for the portrait. But do find some decent designers, the kind who know how to use their hands. But all in all, it is, well, OK. Right next door to the school I went to when I was a kid. So that my teachers may have a really good look at it, enjoy it, and feel gratified. They have brought me up well, to turn out to be the right kind of guy!”

2015 – Exhibition “The Lower Depths” at the “Flacon design factory”. The “Art Without Borders” Foundation exhibited photos from theatre productions which, in their opinion, have breached some ethical or aesthetic norms. “Not all people like to see bawdy things acted out in the theatre, or hear bad language there, and these people also have their right to express their viewpoint, especially since much of it was produced with government money”, it said on the site of the Foundation. Under each photo there were some figures (from an unknown source) that informed visitors how much money from some governmental budget had gone into producing this or that show. The exhibition that opened on 14May (officially it was a private event unavailable for the general public) was shut down the very next day, and the creative director of the gallery offered his apologies to all who might have been offended by the event. This event was the cause for harsh criticism with several shows of the Bolshoy theatre, the A.P. Chekhov Moscow Art Theatre, the “Gogol-centre” theatre, “Electrotheatre”, the Novosibirsk Opera and Ballet Theatre, the Yekaterinburg Theatre for Young Spectators, and also brought about some indignation on social media amongst theatregoers. It furthermore triggered debates on censorship in arts and culture, and on the freedom of speech and artistic self-expression. The most striking statement in this context came from Kirill Serebrennikov:

“The continuing persecution of the contemporary Russian theatre effected through Degenerate Art (EntarteteKunst) sort of exhibitions, and abusive shit-throwing assaults in the media-turned-propagandists is a thing that, conventionally, you better say nothing about and write nothing about, so as not to give this ugliness any additional resonance. Conventionally you’d better ignore them. Yet our squeamish recoiling from these scumbags, our, to be more precise, disgusted silence, allowed them to feel like they are running the world. These stupid clowns mean to destroy that which is so important to such great quantities of clever and talented people — our audiences, that is. They continue to grab more and more government money for themselves, while the government is cutting down all cultural spending, sequestering the entire budget. […] This policy, carried out by a group of aggressive culture-managing officials, aims at completely destroying the new winning and powerful trend in contemporary theatre. For fifteen years the shows of this theatre were sold-out events, it has molded a new generation of artists, and has earned Russia quite a reputation in the world. It developed to maturity thanks to powerful government support. Now people who have come to run culture declare war upon this successful and talented theatre. Crushing criticism in the ranting propagandistic programmes on TV, made-to-order articles in the domesticated media, pressing through fiscal agencies, searches, exhibitions meant to expose and shame, agitative posters—all the methods are seen as fit to be used…”

And here is the answer of Vladimir Medinsky, the Minister of Culture:

“It was precisely the civil society that became indignant at that production of ‘Tannhäuser’ by the Novosibirsk Academic (!) theatre. Our Ministry didn’t blunder when we sacked a theatre director who didn’t bother to enter into dialogue with representatives of the society. We blundered because we took too long with this sacking. Honestly, a production like this should have been rejected by the head of the theatre when it was just a concept.

“In May 2015, the ‘Art Without Borders’ foundation held an exhibition in Moscow, entitled ‘The Lower Depths’, which was devoted to theatre productions of the past few years that have caused much controversy. Each of the ‘exhibits’ was thoughtfully provided with a label, which said how much money this very theatre had received from some governmental budget. I personally understand this kind of civil activity as an attempt to force the state to do its duty in the field of cultural policy. We can’t and won’t continue to ignore, in the totalitarian sort of way, opinions of the majority of our citizens. When you fall ill and go to the local clinic for help, you wouldn’t like to be surprised by some ‘non-traditional’ treatment, would you? Do you indeed want some miraculous new drug to be tested on you, an experimental kind of drug? Somehow I don’t think so. The system of the public healthcare of any country in the world is based on the standardization of the methods of treatment, those that have been tested and probed many times, and are guaranteed by the state and by science. In exceptional cases the need to use some non-standard methods might arise, as a last resort—but you would be repeatedly warned about it being experimental, and you would be offered to make your choice consciously, aware of the possible consequences. As for the fans of the alternative, the non-traditional medicines take care of that, which are not subsidized by the State. Same goes for the arts. The only difference is that a non-traditional artist experiments not on the body of a single patient, but on the souls of many thousands.”

2015 – several Moscow theatres (A.P. Chekhov Moscow Art Theatre, Vs. Meierhold Centre, Gogol-Centre, Satiricon theatre) received requests for information from the Public Prosecutor’s office in connection with the appeal that had been made by the “Arts Without Borders”, an independent foundation for developing culture. It was decided to examine the plays making repertoire of some theatres for the obscene language usage on stage, for propagandizing amoral ways, and for containing elements of pornography. According to the Novaya gazeta (The New Gazette), the letter addressed to Victor Ryzhakov, the artistic director of the V.S. Meierhold Arts centre, contained a request to inform the Public Prosecutor’s office whether the repertoire of the theatre includes such plays as “The Threepenny Opera” (A.P. Chekhov Moscow Art Theatre), “Anthony & Cleopatra. A version.” (Sovremennik theatre), “The Golden Cockerel” (Bolshoy theatre), “About Zero” (A.P. Chekhov Moscow Art Theatre), “The Naked Girl Pioneer” (Sovremennik theatre), “Modelling Clay” (The Centre for Dramatic Art and Directing), “Spring Awakening” (Gogol-centre), “All Shades of Blue” (Satiricon theatre), “Salome” (Roman Viktiuk’s theatre), ”Things Are Great” (Practice theatre), “The Ideal Husband. A comedy” (A.P. Chekhov Moscow Art Theatre).Besides, the office seemed interested in learning certain particulars about the directors of the above-mentioned shows, as well as in getting a rough idea of the contents of these works of art. They also wanted to know whether there were any underage actors who participated in the shows, and “whether the contents of the production have passed any preliminary reviewing (by critics, or by art theorists) at some executive agency before they were staged to be shown to the general public.”

Most of the above-mentioned productions were directed by Kirill Serebrennikov,; none of them are in the repertoire of the Vs. Meierhold Centre, which the Public Prosecuter’s office was informed about by the theatre.

“Additionally I request that we are provided with the scripts of the shows from the above-mentioned list that are in the repertoire of the Vs. Meierhold Centre, as well as video recordings of the performances on any tangible medium (or inform us if it is possible to send the video-recordings by e-mail)”, said the request that was signed by the Public Prosecutor of the Tverskoy district of the city of Moscow, V.V. Mozhaev”.

2016 – in the city of Omsk the performance of the rock-opera “Jesus Christ Superstar” by a touring St. Petersburg theatre was cancelled due to the protests of the representatives of a social movement “Family, Love, Motherland”. “The very plot of the rock-opera ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’ is a continuous blasphemy and treading upon the sacral; it makes mockery of faith and abuses the hallow images, which is profanity pure and simple, the very title of the show is desecrating the sacred. Interpreting holy texts loosely, introducing into the plot debauchery that is incompatible with the Christian ideals cannot but bring forth the feeling of repulsion and protest in any believer, of whatever confession,” it says on the movement’s website.

2016 – In the city of St. Petersburg the performance of the play “All shades of blue” produced by Konstantin Raikin was interrupted twice because of the false alarms triggered by anonymous phone calls. Activists of the Narodny Sobor (People’s Congregation)movement took their stand in front of the theatre entrance, and offered leaflets to the public about the harmfulness of homosexuality. Vitaly Milonov, deputy of the Legislative Assembly of St. Petersburg, filed a complaint in the Public Prosecutor’s office, demanding the show to be examined for the infringements of the law that prohibits propaganda of homosexuality among underage persons. According to Milonov, the show “is damaging moral health”.

The show is a production based on a play of the same title that won an award at the “Liubimovka” Young Russian Playwrights’ festival in 2014. The play was written by Vladimir Zaitzev; it is about a schoolboy who confesses to his parents that his sexual preferences are not traditional. The parents opt for having their son “treated” in a psychiatric clinic.

“When I was making this show, I kept thinking about Mandelstam, Brodsky, Malevich. Generally about people who differ from the identity of all the others. They couldn’t feel differently from the way they felt, and couldn’t lie about their true feelings. The world generally, but Russia with particular cruelty, is relentlessly intolerable of everyone who is different”, said Konstantin Raikin in an interview.

“When they suggest we produce a show devoted to, quote / unquote two-three mishap chromosomes’ whose image provokes nothing but repulsion in the people, and it is being represented at the expense of those very people, mind you. Nobody owes anything to artists—it is you who owe to society. If you disagree, don’t take a job at a state owned establishment. Why do you, while holding a job at a state owned establishment, consider it fair to insult society, while living on government money, and you dare teach others how they ought to live”, said Vladimir Aristarchov, Deputy Minister of Culture.

At the Union of Theatre Workers of RF convention Konstantin Raikin, People’s Artist of Russia, the head of Moscow theatre “Satiricon” made a very emotional speech, which stirred society and brought about a general discussion on the issue of the unacceptability of censorship.

“Now these little groups of allegedly insulted people, who shut shows down, who behave insolently, whom the authorities tolerate with some very strange reserve, keeping their distance. It seems to me that these are some ugly attacks on the freedom of expression, on the outlawing of censorship. And banning censorship is the greatest event that has had a century-long impact on the artistic and spiritual life of our country”, said Konstantin Raikin. Many significant figures in the sphere of arts and culture sided with the famous actor: director Andrey Zviagintzev, the head of the Theatre of Nations Andrey Mironov, director of the State Hermitage Museum Mikhail Piotrovsky, etc.

“As to the show about ‘Fifty shades’ (‘All Shades of Blue’ – author’s note). The Ministry of culture never introduced any sanctions against this show whatsoever. The experts from the department concerned viewed the show, said they found nothing infringing the law in it, so all questions were removed from the agenda. I was flabbergasted by Konstantin Arcadievich Raikin’s speech because he is the last person to complain about censorship, it’s absurd. As far as I remember, nobody has ever forbidden Satirikon theatre and Raikin personally anything, nobody has ever given them instructions, or advice. There must be some other reason behind it”, said Vladimir Medinsky, Minister of Culture, in an interview with “TV tzentr”.

On 2 December, at the joint meeting of the Counsel for Culture and Arts under the auspices of the President of the RF, Vladimir Putin said: “On the one hand, all offensive escapades, attempts to wreck a show, an exhibition, are absolutely unacceptable, and ought to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. And we will do exactly that. On the other hand, within the creative milieu, I’d like to particularly emphasize this aspect of the problem, within and inside that creative milieu the borderline between cynical and offensive show-offs and creative actions ought to be defined.” The president also suggested that the cultural workers should work out some criteria for works of art that would make it clear whether they break the law or insult anybody’s feelings. “It isn’t an easy task, but it would be great if not we, but you yourselves managed to accomplish that. To tell the truth, it would be easier for me to hold back the officials who tend to go too far”, remarked Vladimir Putin.

On 14 December, 2016, the “Public Opinion” foundation published the results of their survey titled “Is it acceptable to ban works of art?”, which were: 47% (9% less then the previous year) believe that banning works of art is unacceptable, and 46% believe that such a practice is acceptable.

2016 – Igor Gladnev, the Minister of Culture of the Perm region, arbitrarily fired Boris Milgram who headed “Theatre-Theatre” in the capacity of artistic director. The official insisted that “the guidelines that have been declared by the head of the theatre are inconsistent with the function meant for the theatre he heads, are inconsistent with the tasks set before the state establishments in the concept of the state cultural policy approved by the president of Russia.” Boris Milgram, the winner of the “Golden Masque” award, who had never been shy of theatrical experiments and “new forms”, explained his dismissal from office by personal dislike that the Perm region Minister of culture had nursed against him. The actors of Theatre-Theatre stood up in protests against the dismissal of their artistic director, as did the theatre circles of Russia. As a result, Igor Gladnev was suspended from his office, and Boris Milgram was restored in his, that of the artistic director of the Theatre-Theatre. Yet very soon a new outrage blazed up, this time about the show “The Blue Room” (based on the play of the same title by David Hare): some activists filed an offensive-to-the-feelings-of-the-believers complaint, but the Public Prosecutor’s office didn’t find any evidence.

2016 – A group of deputies of the State Duma brought in a draft proposing to make defiling works of art or letters in public administratively liable, as well as impeding the screening of a film or performance of a show. To illustrate their purpose, the authors of the draft reminded of the following incidents: at the exhibition of the works by photographer Jock Sturges, which were presented in the Lumière Brothers Photography centre, one of the visitors splashed an exhibited photo with urine; at the exhibition “Sculptures we don’t see” in the Manege, activists of the Orthodox believers’ movement “God’s Will” started to smash sculptures made in the years 1960-70, insisting the objects offended the feelings of the believers); with the play “The Ideal Husband” that ran at the A.P. Chekhov Moscow Art Theatre, the activists who described themselves as Orthodox believers climbed onto the stage during the performance, with the intention to wreck the show; later they left a pig’s head on the door-step of the theatre* and orders to shut down the show). “In the years 2014-2016, several dozens of performances were wrecked, in many different cities of Russia”, the deputies remarked in the note that accompanied the draft.”

*”I would like to say a few words to certain so very pushy persons: don’t you bother about bringing any more pigs’ heads to the theatre doorstep, but store them in the refrigerator instead, which is where food ought to go. It seems that these days we are confronted with characters that pop up from nowhere, wanting to tell artists what they are to do, and at times in an unacceptably aggressive form, too. I am a man who has seen a thing or two in my life, so I didn’t shut down that show. Several years passed, and the show is running beautifully, and the public keeps coming to see it”, said Oleg Tabakov, People’s Artist of the USSR, the artistic director of the A.P. Chekhov Moscow Art Theatre.

2017 – The Council of the Orthodox patriotic communities made a list of film and theatre directors whom they labeled “russophobic”.

“It is high time that responsible officials, whose office is to govern, and whose job concerns cultural issues, stopped being hypnotized by a tiny bunch of self-proclaimed geniuses who aggressively insist they are licensed to enjoy boundless freedom. Freedom implies responsibility, and cannot be stretched to include ‘creators’ who intentionally mock things that are dearest to the majority of the people, who spit right into the soul of the people. That’s the core difference between them and the true artists, whose creativity is nourished by faith and bonds tying them to their own national cultural tradition. We must resist the false stereotype, so aggressively inculcated by this lobby, that implies that there cannot be any bans in art, that artistic practices are outside the authority of law and morals. Because culture is based on norms, and norms cannot exist without bans.”

2017 – The Public Prosecutor’s office initiated an investigation concerning productions of the Taganka Theatre upon receiving a complaint about the play “Sweeney Todd: the demon barber of Fleet-street”, which had been filed by a certain Romanov Kniaz Monomakh. The complaint contained several excerpts from articles published by news agencies, a statement to the effect that the show propagandizes violence, and a legislative initiative that was worded in the following way: “I propose the people’s budget is spared and the Ministry of Culture is dismissed, in accordance with the 205 Article of the RF Criminal Code (terrorism)…”

2017 – The RF State Duma passed the decision to form a Council for Culture, Religion, and Interethnic Relations. Supposedly the council will concern itself with having young people be brought up in a patriotic spirit, as well as push for activities that prevent extremism from spreading in the sphere of culture.

Strong itch to act the whistle-blower, lust for profit, natural meanness or weakness of character, susceptibility to manipulative techniques, or, possibly, sincere, even if misplaced, belief in the rightfulness of the cause—whatever the motives behind the citizens’ speaking out against one show or another, and demand it were closed (quite often the activists have never even seen the event they want to have destroyed), they seem to be the die-hard ones. And I would add one more cause of the spectators’ indignation and noxious response to this or that show—namely, longing for the paradise lost. The concept of an earthly “paradise lost” is common to many religions, epics, myths of different peoples and different epochs. The famous Sumero-Akkadian epic poem tells us about Dilmun, a country inhabited by gods, where there is no death, and no illness. All living creatures there live in concord with each other. “In Dilmun the crow doesn’t croak. The Ittidu bird doesn’t screech. The lion doesn’t kill, the wolf won’t snatch the lamb.” Now compare Dilmun with the theatrical community of your own country, and you will make out the difference to be day and night.

The myths of Ancient Greece inform us about a northern country Hyperborea, where the offspring of the Titans lived. Their civilization was highly developed: immaculately moral, advanced technology, and magnificent arts. Yet Hyperborea perished, with no trace of it left.

There is an opinion that the “paradise lost” concept being this widely spread might not only be due to cultural and historic causes, but due to psycho-physiological ones, too. Psychologists insist that all of us have, subconsciously, memories of being in our mother’s womb. After having been born into the unkind world we start to yearn for the time when we were surrounded by the warmth and care of our mother’s body.

Theatre itself, ever striving to penetrate the essential core of the human being, is very much like a human being. Theatre yearns for its paradise lost, for its golden age, for “the ideal model”. In theatre circles (and theatre goers ought to be considered part of it), talks about the outstanding figures of the times bygone frequently occur, and about some specific time and place where once upon a time the perfect theatre used to abide. That perfect theatre is often referred to as “classical theatre”. There is no agreement on what “classical theatre” is or might be. “Classical theatre” is a vague notion of the theatre from “the good old days”, and by deploying that term, it generally means looking down on any new form of contemporary theatre. Theater-goers sigh, distressed by that which has just been presented to them, and say that “art still owes a lot to the public”, and nostalgically speak about theatre’s “paradise lost”.

The weather in paradise is always pleasing (psychological environment including); nobody is hungry and everybody is friendly. There are no emotions in paradise, because life there is so very regular and peaceful. In paradise, established order reigns once and forever. There is no rivalry in paradise. It resembles utopias, many of which tend to turn into a tyranny only too often. No theatre, neither generally speaking, nor any particular one, has ever lived in conditions like that. Conditions like that are contrary to its very essence, its turbulent creative core.

Theatre is alive and always has been alive, thanks to the exchange and collision of thoughts and ideas, creative practices and concepts. Rivalry and partnership coexist within it. Any striking human identity gets enriched and enriches the cultural codes, the roots of any nation. Theatre, like the city, thrives on diversity; it takes them as they come—emotions, ideas, experiences, facts, philosophies, religions, languages—and can never get enough.

I don’t think that discussions about the beautiful bygones may be of any use for the beautiful tomorrow we have under construction. The theatre of tomorrow is a theatre that embraces both Ginkas and Wilson, both recitations and experimenting, and new forms of all kinds. The theatre of the past is a theatre with one single trend domineering. A domineering single style, or a single vision, however great the artists may be, will never bring about anything good if granted a monopoly. Things will just freeze in their tracks. The immortality of the theatre is in motion, in exploration, in things being “artistically disorganized”. Besides, as another of Chekhov’s characters put it, “there is room enough for all, for the new and old alike. Why […] push and shove?”

In spite of all the outrages and feverish sways, and the working conditions that are much too often much too far from being perfect, the theatre in Russia is alive, diverse, continuously in quest for the unknown, and often succeeds with surprising the audience with the most marvelous discoveries. And precisely for this reason it is so important to talk about anything that prevents the theatre and people in the theatre from working freely, from discovering more and more new ways of understanding the reality that surrounds us.

Theatre strives to and is capable of destroying barriers not only between the stage and the audience, but in places beyond the theatre. Theatre always has been and still is the space where civilian life abides. Theatre as an art form energetically opposes and tries to overpower war theaters. Theatre crosses borders and overcomes stereotypes. Theatre is a form of communication and mutual enrichment. As director Andrey Goncharov put it, “Theater is a man to man conversation on Man.”

Note by the author: The day after this article was finished the following statement was published on the site of the Russian Artistic Union, an organization that came to be quite recently, informing the public about the general concept of this organization, and the general directions it plans to take. In particular, in section “Theatre” it said:

“We believe that Russian theatre is in deep crisis. While going over once again through the ABC that the Soviet theatre, as well as the theatres of Western Europe had mastered long ago, most of our creative workers have ceased to concern themselves with the aim of bringing out the best in their audiences. The refusal on principal to adopt any ideology at all turned out to become a new dictatorship that demands that sin and saintliness, the base and the great are equaled. Relinquishing all moral evaluations is insistently proclaimed as the basic principle, as if to fit the spirit of the famous thesis ‘let all flowers bloom’. Having ceased to be the cathedra for preaching lofty ideas, the theatre has reserved for itself only one single function, that of the entertainer, and the seat of the civil truths is now taken by casual journalistic blabber, borrowed from the ‘Echo Moskvy’ (‘Echo of Moscow’) radio station and the TV channel “Dozhd” (Rain).

UPD

The Russian Investigative Committee said the Gogol Center theatre and the apartment of its art director, Kirill Serebrennikov, were searched on 23 May in connection with an embezzlement case. Dozens of cultural figures came to Serbrennikov’s defense, signing a statement calling him “an honest, fair, and open person.”

Published on 28 June 2017 (Article originally written in Russian)

Gaudeamus igitur … or The Soul after Victory

Gaudeamus igitur…
or The Soul after Victory

Gaudeamus, directed by Lev Dodin. Maly Drama Theatre, Saint-Petersburg. Photo © ViktorVassiliev

Standing ovations after the opening night of the newly rehearsed award-winning Glasnost classic Gaudeamus on 27 January 2016 at the Piccolo Teatro – Teatro d’Europa in Milan. Based on the story The Construction Battalion by Sergei Kaledin, the world premiere — that successfully prevailed against the military censorship on 11 July 1990 at the Leningrad Maly Drama Theatre (MDT) — courageously tackled the inhuman treatment of young people liable to military service in the Soviet army, which the young actors back then had experienced themselves first hand. 25 years after the end of the Stalinist Papal State, the Saint Petersburg founding member of the Union des Théâtres de l’Europe (UTE) — since 1998 the Maly Drama Theatre – Théâtre de l’Europe — guests with a post-Soviet generation in the parts of their older fellow ensemble members. The Russian director of the play and UTE President of Honour, Lev Dodin, brilliantly masters the transmission of a cultural heritage whose roots are tightly linked to the history of Europe. The idealization of the past — sadly having become so characteristic of our restoration period today — yields the performance of the young graduates who once again bring to life a fruitful memorial site of timeless relevance.

Civilised and natively dressed, they enter, dispersed and to the sound of military marches from all cardinal directions: Kostya (Evgini Sannikov), Bogdan (Aleksei Morozov), Babai (Philip Moglinitsky), Vlad (Leonid Lutchenko), Itskovitch (Aleksandr Bykosvki), Sharaev (Artur Kozin), Bourmistrov (Beka Tculukidze), Milman (Evgeni Serzin) and Popov-Bielotchiski (Stanislav Tkachenko). One after the other they enter the platform that slantingly faces the audience on the stage of the Piccolo Teatro Strehler; it is approximately fifteen metres long and approximately five metres deep (stage design by Alexei Porai-Koshits). A plethora of shredded white plastic strips cover its surface. Bright light aflame, the draftees waddle on the tips of their toes, fumbling forward through the snowy landscape until they — and Bob’s your uncle — go down in a hole in the ground as if they were drowning. Drafted. Descent is the name of the first scene.

On the creation of heroes and swaggering

We find ourselves in the time between the 60s and 80s somewhere in the Soviet Union. Beyond the civilised world there’s a world of the military. It nourishes distinct expectations on the malleable material, the young, manly body with its most intimate desires and thoughts. Dressed in Red Army uniform the young men climb through the hatches back into the snow. Now it’s really getting started. Together with the recruits, we’re riding at a gallop through the basic military training: “Company, attention!”, “Stand at ease”, “Eyes steady” — they exercise everything, also how to ‘make’ a report. The instructors’ unintelligible barking orders on the barrack yards are alike everywhere around the world. The same goes for the harassment performed on rounds. The major (Pavel Gryaznov) cunningly wags a white handkerchief in front the eyes of the recruits. He has found a dust grain on the doorframe above the entrance. There will be repercussions.

The scene Physical Exercise leads to scandal. A flatulence interrupts the athletic showdown from a press-up contest to lifting weights. A brawl starts between the swaggers. In the end, Itskovitch, the contemplative nonathletic Jew, is threshed until he’s unconscious. And Lieutenant Shamtchiev (Stanislav Nikolskii) kicks everyone in the groin who can’t hold the declared position of attention: space between the forward section of the foot in an angle of 20˚, chest out, stomach in, arms bent, fingertips at the hip on the trouser seam, and the greeting altogether! Greeting, walking, standing, sitting, sleeping… natural movements are socially rearranged and normed according to military procedure. Human material is made fit, fit to the service regulation that even Lieutenant Shamtchiev has to check every now and again, much to the laughter of the audience.

Material deficiency or adaptive difficulties?

The first attempt of a Moscow company failed to already stage the six-part story of The Construction Battalion by Sergei Kaledin in 1989 in the theatre of the Soviet Army in Moscow. Throughout the union, officers conferred and decided that The Construction Battalion is backstabbing the Red Army. A public power struggle between the military censorship and the cultural sector preceded the publication. The story was planned for the October edition of the Moscow literature magazine Novy Mir in 1988. The General Directorate of the protection of State Secrets in the Press (Glavlit) did not want to give their assent for printing without the approval of the military censorship. The chief editor, who had previously already enforced manuscripts such as The Foundation Pit by the Andrei Platonov, who had been prohibited for almost 60 years, received a rejection on the grounds of Kaledin’s story demonstrating an extraordinarily low political and moral standard of the relatives of a unit of troops of the Soviet Army. Kaledin is taking the risk himself and begins defending the text across the censorship authorities until its publication in April 1989. Prior to this, reviews are published in the Komsomolka, “there’s nothing worse than barrack yard collectivism of lawless people”, and in the Moskovski novosti “Glasnost isn’t enough — we also need a sense of hearing.” Julian Panitsh read Kaledin’s text on the Radio Svoboda; the latter was surprised that no one came to get him.

Times had changed. Lev Dodin and his troupe had nothing to do with the Moscow controversy, and rehearsed, undisturbed by censoring, for a year until the opening night on 11 July 1990. A class of his acting and directing students at the Leningrad (Saint Petersburg) University of Theatre, that Dodin has been teaching at since 1967 and where he now chairs the department of stage direction , used Kaledin’s story as a starting point, but mostly used their own experiences as a basis for their performance which they solidified in 19 improvisations, putting the issue on the map. Taking it as a leitmotif, the hole in the ground serves as a latrine that the gypsy Vlad and the Jew Itskovitch shovel faeces in, while the ‘hero’, Kostya, transports the faeces away in a wheelbarrow. On stage Vlad and Itskovitch wear their caps like a food bowl underneath their lower jaw. Matchboxes containing faecal specimen of the recruits fly from these pitfalls in the scene War is War. The filthy curses and the soldiers’ speak of Kaledin’s story influence the dialogues. Everything is relentlessly brought up, from alcohol abuse to deaths in military manoeuvres to the movement of discharge contenders that distinguishes recruits according to term of service into ‘dashers’, ‘badgers’ and ‘grandpas’, and includes the personality-despising duty of ‘dashers’ and ‘grandpas’.

Happy Fracking

In a conversation with the Italian theatre critic Luca Doninelli about Theatre and Freedom Lev Dodin, when asked about the human soul, responded, “The human memory tends to erase tragic memories. Our human memory does away with uncomfortable memories and uncomfortable thoughts and tries to eradicate the pain. And one of the most important qualities of theatre is to identify this pain, to interpret it, and to talk about it.” — The son of a geologist, born in 1944 in Siberia, has proven this three-part working method in numerous productions at the Maly Theatre in Saint Petersburg, amongst which The House and Brothers and Sisters based on Fyodor Abramov, Demons by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Chevengur by Andrei Platonov, Stars in the Morning Sky by Alexander Galin or Life and Fate by Wassily Grossman. The basic conflicts of the Papal State are envisioned in these plays by Stalinism force collectivising the dream of the new human or the Soviet Civilisation (Andrei Sinyavsky) starting in the mid-20s.

This construction is cheered. This construction is cursed. The cheering is faced towards victory. The paid price is cursed. Dodin’s interpretation of the pain of young people in Gaudeamus resembles fracking, through which gases in low-lying rock layers are released. These gases are the dreams, the yearnings, the wishes and hopes of young bodies. This Let’s be happy! gives a premonition of unused sources of youthful zest for action: the civil side is the convincing performance by full-of-life acting graduates. The military side is the ironically funny exaggeration of the going-to-waste soul in every day life of young recruits in basic military training. Both sides of the same coin clank together with a cheer when Dodin gives this Stalinist construction a surreal chemical cocktail that comes up with a visual and acoustic colourfulness of poetry, opening up rooms for association across the memory of the ‘Russian Soul’ and literature.

There’s the big hang-out-the-laundry babushka (Mariya Nikiforova), who becomes the sexual adventure for the recruit Babai. At the same time, she’s also the lieutenant’s wife and represents Mother Russia. Whoever gets involved with her will be loved to death and left on the ground like Babai. She’s the character of the reaper that force collectivises Wostchew in Platonov’s The Construction Pit who commands death and donates food. She’s an invisible power that unexpectedly dives into fellow human beings. This power lets Itskovitch cover Kostya’s mouth when the latter drunkenly brags about going to America and screams, “America, I love you!” — this Kostya, who’s only dressed in briefs, whose athletic body makes him look remarkably like a Soviet hero’s memorial, when with a craving chest voice full of yearning he’s dictating his love letter to Tatiana (Danna Abyzova) — who’s looking for pleasure in the casern to the Beatles’ song Girl — to Vlad who’s standing in the cesspit up to his belly button.

First Love wasn’t missing either. There’s a girl (Daria Rumiantseva) standing at a lake, washing her hair. The man who sees her doesn’t stay alone for long. The other recruits immediately accompany his imagined wedding night with her with a dance. In another scene there’s a piano swinging in the heights of the stage area on which the couple Bogdan and Ludmila (Ekaterina Kleopina) play the beginning bars of Mozart’s symphony in G minor as a sign of love with their toes. It’s this far-away certainty that these projections would express this unrequited desire that let us enjoy folk song qualities with the grossed adaptation of the US song One way ticket to the blues (Neil Sedaka) in a de-jazzed Russian version Blue Song („Синий-синий иней лёг на провода…“), and lets our heart wallow in nostalgic but also blurred memories.

The source of the “Russian Soul” with Dodin is a peculiar symbiosis of nature experience, fertility mysticism and keen judgement. In search of the truth, he invites the audience as well as the actors to follow the simultaneous processing of different rationalities. The thus parallel existing competition of sacralities creates consistently new breaks that make you laugh or give you food for thought; when Ludmila, Tatiana, the girl at the lake, or the lady (Arina von Ribben) dance ballet on the tips of their toes in their nightgown around the latrines, but then sit on the ground in their cotton jackets, smoking, singing about the beauty of the body, using words from the church Slavic with which they direct their voices from a perspective of creation to us. Maybe this is the divine moment of the evening.

Theatre — a memorial site

An essential element of Dodin’s rehearsal process is the physical visit to the original locations. After the table reading of Grossman’s novel Life and Fate, the troupe travelled to a Stalinist GULAG and Auschwitz-Birkenau, where they stayed for a few nights. Rehearsals for the Abramov-Trilogy lead the troupe into the village Pekashino. This was repeated with younger ensemble members so that the thread between the generations wouldn’t rip. In the conversation with Doninelli, Dodin points out that theatre expresses the real meaning of life. No human existence can exist without the exchange of emotions. Interpersonal relationship only makes sense when seen in relation to our behaviour. Artists can share the search for truth here much better than can politicians or historians.

When everyone joins into the eponymic students’ song Gaudeamus igitiur… in the last scene, Academy, the tie between the first acting generation and the post-Soviet graduation class is ritually renewed 25 years after the world premiere. In this renewed production, which had its opening night at the Maly Theatre on 16 September 2014, only Mariya Nikiforova is still on board. Next to acting techniques that Dodin imparts in the tradition of the artist theatre based on Stanislavski’s and Meyerhold’s methods, the young actors penetrate the world of the basic military training in the Stalinist construction that brought pain to their predecessors. Now, it is them who keep Dodin’s interpretation alive and who talk about this pain. It is them who, 25 years after Glasnost and Perestroika, still transmit that the pantheon of the hero’s memorial doesn’t fit into the pre-cut stencils of the service regulations and doesn’t at all go with the well of adolescent curiosity, and that no nostalgia can cover up the true adaptive difficulties, even if the intonated music — civil or military — devoid of any kind of ideas contains a cheering promise, and throws the body into clanking excitement, which is more topical than ever, not just in Russia.

This is what distinguishes recollection and memory. Dodin’s theatre, which has its home in the Small Drama Theatre (MDT) in Saint Petersburg founded in 1944, has cultural techniques ready that can always revive earlier experiences and once acquired knowledge. This makes the works of the repertoire of this theatre ambassadors of those cultures whose peoples have suffered true hardship. Lev Dodin also imparts these cultural techniques in his masterclass that founded the ISO theatre of the Union des Théâtres de l’Europe (UTE), whose President of Honour is Dodin and whose founding member is the Maly Theatre. Lev Dodin is the patron of the Decentralized Academy. He was awarded numerous prizes, amongst which the Golden Mask, the Lawrence Olivier Award, the Russian Presidential Award and the European Theatre Prize for his lifetime achievement.

Published on 24 February 2016 (Article originally written in German)

Interviews from Russia- Part 3

Interviews from Russia

Part 3: Timofey Kulyabin

If we are trying to save a person’s life
at the expense of the abortion,
that can’t be right. It’s a strange logic.
Timofey Kulyabin

The young journalist Nina Mochalova from Moscow interviewed several personalities of cultural journalism and cultural policy on the current situation of theatre in Russia.

Interviews from Russia #3

The third part of the series shows an interview with the young stage director Timofey Kulyabin. Kulyabin is one of the most prominent theatre directors nowadays in Russia. The interview explores the need of a dialogue with the audience and the conflict between social and artistic questions concerning a tendency of narrow-mindness in a part of Russia’s theatre audience.
On the example of Kulyabin’s staging of Richard Wagner’s Tannhäuser in Novosibirsk in December 2014 and the scandal that followed, the interview outlines how theatre functions as a catalyst for tensions of society and sometimes is at risk being used for political or social means.

To watch this video with English subtitles, please click on the [cc] button and choose: “English subtitles”

Biographical notes on Timofey Kulyabin:
Kulyabin is one of the most prominent young theatre directors nowadays in Russia. After graduating from the Russian Academy of Theatre Arts in 2007 he is successfully working in drama and opera theatres throughout the country and abroad. All of his productions of the classic dramas and operas creates a big resonance in professional and non-professional theater community. Kulyabin’s Onegin in the Red Torch theatre has been awarded a special prize of the Russian Performing Arts Festival and National Theater Award Golden Mask. His production of Wagners Tannhäuser in December 2014 took place with a great ctitic’s acclaim in Novosibirsk Opera and Ballet Theatre. Some aspect of the production, notably the depiction of Tannhäuser in the Venusberg scene, led to criminal proceedings following a complaint by the Orthodox archbishop of Novosibirsk and Berdsk, Tikhon (Leonid Grigorevich Emelyanov). A court later dismissed those allegations. Subsequently, the Minister of Culture, Vladimir Medinsky, dismissed the theatre’s director, Boris Mezdrich, and appointed Vladimir Kekhman as the new director, who then canceled all further performances.

Published 19 June 2015

YOUNG EUROPEAN JOURNALISTS ON PERFORMING ARTS

Tag: Russia

Governance, Ghosts and Electricity

Governance, Ghosts and Electricity

Les Misérables?

Les Misérables?

The Rich and the Poor: Coming Together and Drifting Apart in the European Theatrical Landscape

The Rich and the Poor: Coming Together and Drifting Apart in the European Theatrical Landscape