Well, we’re in the thick of it. We are now more than two months into our time here in Moscow. As Yaron said in his last post, things are getting mentally and physically more challenging. When things get stressed, I look around and am constantly reminded of what an incredible place I’m in. I have four and a half weeks left in this city and so, so much to do before I leave. There are so many places I want to visit, and what feels like five minutes to visit them. I haven’t journaled or blogged since my last post, so here open the flood gates:
- Theatre - I’ve seen close to twenty shows thus far. Going to see Marco Spada at the famous Bolshoi Theatre was one of the most incredible theatre going experiences of my life. Not only was the dancing technically perfect, but the experience as a whole was overwhelming. The house is gorgeous, and the atmosphere is magical. My seat was behind a column, so I ended up standing behind a woman in the last row wearing too much floral perfume. This was a small sacrifice to make in order to practice my ballet arms simultaneously with the dancers on stage. I felt like one of the luckiest kids in the world. It was one of the first times here that I felt truly present and aware of where I was. The orchestra, the chandelier, the five balconies, the incredible dancing, it was all enveloping of my spirit and senses. On our way to the “bufyet” (Russian for snack bar) during intermission, a woman with a not so hot blonde wig and electric blue eye shadow approached us. She began talking to us in Russian. When we told her we didn’t understand, she scolded us saying “You can’t understand? You WON’T understand. Very big difference.” As shitty as this sounds, it’s actually true. Half of the language barrier is psychological in already assuming that you won’t understand someone. The other half is just sucking it up and doing that Russian homework at 1 AM (...still working on that one). She asked us where we were from, using the word “shat,” which I misheard as “stat.” I repeated the word for clarification, and she loudly said, “NO! You’re not stars!” Go figure. We’ve seen a couple show by one of my new favorite Russian directors, Kremov, at the School of Dramatic Art. The last production of his I saw was Tararaboombya, a mash up of Chekhov’s Seagull, Cherry Orchard, Three Sisters, as well as Chekhovian biographical stories. There are some moments in the theatre, whether they are images, sounds, expressions, that I know will stick with me forever. This show provided several of those moments. It lead one of my friends here to say that “theatre in America is dead.” The stage was one long conveyor belt that the actors played on. Set pieces could move from one end to the other, creating a parade of events. During the section exploring the ending of The Seagull, two glass boxes (almost like greenhouses) began moving down the conveyor. In the first, parlor women calling out bingo numbers, while waving butterfly puppets. Behind this first box came a second smaller glass box, with Treplev inside, violently ripping up a manuscript and catapulting the shreds over the top of the box, letting them fall to the ground. His actions became more and more aggressive until a loud gunshot was heard, and blood splattered on both sides of the box. Treplev lay in a crumpled pile inside his box, blood dripping over his manuscript. The women in the first box threw themselves up against the sides, their butterfly puppets now only having occasional spasms, as if they were being electrocuted. The second image that impressed me was the human seagull. A woman in a wedding dress appeared at the head of the conveyor belt. As she moved forward her wings (her hands inside two large puppets which were held by two puppeteers following along side her) were revealed. The never-ending train of her dress became the tail. The actress began to wail a pitch that I didn’t know was possible to come out of a human being. She continued forward until we discovered that her dress was pinned to the front of a truck, which was carrying a puppet of Chekhov’s dead body. A funeral procession followed, with a small skeleton puppet rearing the back. My impression was that this was Chekhov the man, forgotten among Chekhov the hero. Other impressions from this show - the three sisters introducing Andrey the puppet to Vershinin . They were the ones controlling how he walked and moved. Andrey is nothing but a wet noodle with a simple mind. A man who is expected to become something so much more that he is capable of being. We’ve also seen many shows by the director Botsov. We saw a devised piece of Othello, which unfortunately, lost my body to a four hour nap. The show was quiet, inconsistent, and honestly, the theatre was so hot, I just couldn’t get comfortable. His style of directing is found through etudes. The cast will bring in pieces exploring different moments and themes in the play, and he will eventually shape the production using these etudes. So, what we saw was not Othello, but a very unique and personal re-telling. The set was crowded, location was not specific, it was just all over the place. This director seems to be interested in very spare sets (chairs, plants, water/objects falling from the sky, projection), in other words, very non traditional. However, I saw his production of Good Person of Szechwan, which was breathtaking. This was in part to the cohesiveness of the production, and in part to the actors. The sparseness and delicate set and abstraction of reality worked here as it did not in Othello. I felt like I was watching a play that was telling a concrete story. The pieces came together to tell me something. They were in the same world, and did not seem random. There were trees that flew, beads that fell from the sky, sand that was thrown on the stage, matchboxes that poured down from the rafters, projections of flying bodies, loud musical numbers in screamed German, gaudy makeup, dancing with balloons, and I believed all of it. The lead actress was a force of nature, a true powerhouse pouring out her spirit on that stage, and is someone to be reckoned with. She demanded my attention and I had no problem giving it to her. She was expiring herself in front of our eyes. How many times does that happen? Other productions we’ve seen recently include a strange Gothic/Victorian production of Uncle Vanya (I don’t even know what to say about this one...), a modern dance of Othello (only worth it for the swaying human ocean - amazing), and the MXT fourth years production of Our Town (these guys are incredible, can do everything, and are so truthful and present). Last weekend, we saw Butusov’s four and a half hour of The Seagull, which was brutally good. It made me feel that anything is possible in the theatre. There are no rules, ever. Just do what you want. Do anything. The actors were running, screaming, dancing, throwing things, swinging on ropes. The director was even onstage at intermission (there were three...) talking to the actors making changes in front of the audience. WHAT?!
- Class - Class is hard. There is no way around that. In our acting class we are rehearsing for our showcase. We are devising a piece based on Chekhov’s Three Sisters. We are rehearsing sixty-five etudes of our creation (which we’ve been working on all semester) to re-show tomorrow to see which etudes will make it to the final showcase. Afterwards, we begin working on forty six more as a group. So in total, the twenty three of us are juggling over one hundred pieces. Rehearsals are back to back to back, and we are constantly running around. Acting is taught by Sergei and his student Illya. Sergei has been and continues to be such a wonderful presence. He is very kind but not afraid to tell you that something is completely not working. We feel nurtured as students, and are beginning to feel comfortable with having someone say that what we’re doing is wrong. As Sergei says, nine out of the ten things we try are not going to work. And that’s ok. We know we can try anything in front of him. Illya is a ball of energy, and makes the class fresh. Tatyana is our translator, and is also wonderful. She is hilarious with her markedly Russian dry sense of humor. She has been a great mentor for us. Currently, I’m stressed about movement, because we are not progressing as quickly as we should be. Last week, we were reminded that it is not enough to be excited that we accomplished something that we’ve never done before and call it a day. We have to keep working and push past that honey moon phase to get it down to a no-brainer and learn new material. We are not practicing enough at home - looks like it’s going to be shoulder stands in the kitchen pretty soon. Vlad, our teacher, always reminds us to smile and laugh, but it’s hard when it feels like I’m a crab leg being cracked open while stretching in the Spanish Grand. Now, we’re working on Droznin partner exercises, flying in the air in Titanic, Flagpole, Tango, and backward flips. Today was a better day, we can hopefully move forward. I’m constantly learning things about how I work in this class. Today, I asked a question because I had trouble finding the balance in an exercise. Vlad told me that it wasn’t a problem, but a challenge. In another exercise, he told me I was rushing. I tried it slower and he was still shaking his head at me. I asked if I needed to go slower. He replied: “you just need to feel your partner.” It’s responding to what’s happening right now with your partner, not any pattern of your body. He is constantly reminding us to use the Stanislavsky system in our movements. Not rushing, thinking what I’m doing at the current moment, what I’m getting ready to do, what I’m feeling and how I need to adjust to that in the moment. The next step is creating movement etudes founded in Three Sisters to bring into class. Hopefully I can post some pictures of these exercises soon. Ballet is the devil, but a good devil. Our teacher is Renat, a Russian dancer who smells of coffee, cigarettes, and cologne. He is a sass master, and is amazing. He has long flowing hair, and leaves no choice but to love him when he’s giving you the look of confused shock when you show him your fondue. Now, we’ve begun traditional Russian dance, both individual and with partners, and while I’m still trying not too look like a five year old doing the potty dance, we’re having a great time. He told us last class that if we think we can’t do something, know that we can, we just have to make ourselves. He wants us to talk to him with our body. This class is the definition of “fake it ‘till you make it.” After we got chewed out, or as Renat said, “killed,” for not acting while dancing, we all tried to bump it up a level the next class. We are determined to sell our dancing and “smeyes” (smile with our eyes) for the entirety of our class. Marina is our singing teacher. She is the best. She is a cat in human form that is not afraid to snort at you in warm ups, punch you in the stomach to get that note out, and scream broken English song lyrics in your face. She has big eyes that blink at you either approvingly or disapprovingly during warmups. She has already taught me so much and has made me feel fearless in letting any sound come out of my body that needs to that day. Any fear of “sounding bad” has gone out the window. Now, we are working mostly on duets that make me nostalgic for the good ole’ American musical. Yelena, our Russian teacher is a little cherub that is the sass master number two. She is the sweetest person, but has an undercutting bite to her that makes class evermore entertaining. Slav, our stage combat teacher actually teaches class in English, and although he claims his English is horrible, it’s actually pretty good. He is scary, speaks in a low muffled voice, and seems to be a pretty guarded person until his inner cobra comes out in the form of a roundhouse kick or stomach hit. He is intimidating. His head is shaved, sporting a big scar, along with the one on his right shoulder blade. However, he has such a passion for this subject, and I love watching him get excited by the work. As much as he is intimidating, he takes you under the wing and makes sure you’re working safely. He’s pretty endearing, always interjecting jokes throughout the class. We’re starting to do fully fleshed combat combinations, with focus and contact hits. I’m starting to feel less like an awkward chicken in this class, so that’s a good thing. Slav is always reminding us not to rush, to be more active, more aggressive, and to use our partners. Last class we talked about the “audience effect.” It’s when we forget choreography due to the nerves of putting the fight in front of people. Classes have become consuming. We are always rehearsing and it feels like we don’t have time to do any of it. We get to the school earlier and stay later. And it’s still not enough. We have to work harder and smarter. The picture of Stanislavsky inspires me everyday as he stares at me walking up the steps. He’s smiling at me with that look of fatherly approval, or disappointment, or encouragement. It’s funny how that picture changes everyday. Our showcase founded in the text of Three Sisters is getting closer. In acting now, we are juggling working on etudes, scenes, and finishing up monologues. At first, I was terrified of playing a Chekhovian man. They seemed so much bigger than me and so far away. I knew I had to tackle one of them for my scene-work. Since we get to choose our scenes, my friend Sivan and I worked on Tusenbach and Irina’s final scene in Act Four. Working on this reminded me what my teachers said: don’t be intimidated by these people. Don’t feel like you have to meet any expectations or perceptions of what Chekhov should be, just play this person in these circumstances. We were able to wade our way through the scene, and of course, we still have so much work to do. It’s pretty crazy getting to perform one of the most famous Chekhovian scenes next door to the building where the play was first read. We bring in new material every class, and so far, have devised over thirty of our own pieces, half of those inspired by Three Sisters. Our showcase will be a mixture of these etudes, monologues and scenes, probably culminating in what will become our own rendition of Chekhov’s play. Our Theatre History class is taught by Anatloy Smeliansky, the leading world scholar on Chekhov and Stanislavksy, President of the Moscow Art Theatre, and former dean of the school. Last week I had to give a presentation on Three Sisters along with two of my classmates to him and our class. It was terrifying, but he makes the class so relaxed and provides such incredible insight. I think it went well. Our design class takes trips every week to different theatres or libraries to meet different designers. We’ve met the set designer of Stanislavsky ballet theatre, the lighting designer of the Bolshoi ballet, and the costume designer of MXT. We went to the Meyerhold museum, where I learned that I look similar to Meyherhold when he played Treplev in the original production of the Seagull. Good juju I hope. We went to the MXT library two weeks ago and handled with white gloves the production photos of the original productions of Chekhov’s five major plays. So cool. Cinema is quickly becoming one of my favorite classes. It is taught by Galina, who is literally a cinema goddess. She know everything. Everything, and is able to answer any question you ask her with detail and historical context. Plus, the films we’re watching (including Tarkovsky) are incredible. The work continues, and I’m hoping to lean into this challenge, and push myself in the hardest of moments to move forward and grow.
- The Gala! Last night the American Studio performed on the main-stage of MXT for the Gala event celebrating the 70th anniversary of the Moscow Art Theatre school. We were in rehearsal with some pretty incredible people, including the gala director, who is currently the artistic director of the Puskin Theatre. Performing on the stage was a once in a lifetime experience. Sitting in the audience, I realized what an incredible community I’m taking part in. Alumni from across the years (including the first MXT class of 1943 - in fact the very FIRST diploma recipient) were there, and it was so inspiring to see them cheer vigorously and give standing ovation after standing ovation for the people and school that have shaped their lives so. It was illuminating for me when (as sappy as this sounds) the finale was set to Song of Purple Summer from Spring Awakening. It made me realize that while New York exists, and Moscow exists, and London exists, and Ireland exists, we are all members of an INTERNATIONAL theatre community. We are one people in that sense, all striving to find and bring beauty to the surface. We all have the same love for the beauty of art, and belong to this singular group of artists no matter where in the world we live. We learned that the gala performance will be broadcast later this week on Russian national television. Backstage were actors from shows I’d seen here, all of whom graduated from MXT. It was an incredible evening. We were told that the American’s stole the show, that our self deprecating humor was appreciated (which we didn’t write...) and that we were stars around the Moscow theatre community. HA, take that woman at the Bolshoi. Our picture even made it into the commemorative book, published for the event.
- Adventures in Moscow. I was in Red Square two nights ago because I wanted to see St. Basil’s at night all lit up. Little did I know that three days before, a naked man had nailed his scrotum to the cobblestone in what he said was a protest against the un-sympathetic Russian government. One evening some friends and I went to the Moscow Hillel for a Shabbat service. It was the night of their talent show, and upon finding out we were theatre students, asked us to perform. Not knowing what else to do, we picked a song that everyone of us knew: Defying Gravity. That’s right, we got up there and performed an a cappella rendition of Defying Gravity for a group of Russian Jews. Not only did we have no shame, we were rewarded for it, winning the grand prize of a free ticket to a swanky party of the joining of the Moscow Jewish community that Sunday evening. The congregation was so nice to even pool their money to buy us all tickets so all four of us could attend the party for free. Turns out, the party was at the top of a gorgeous Moscow hotel. It was the Time Out Bar (same folks who run the magazine), and we had a panoramic view of the city. Absolutely gorgeous, and we felt much more important than we really are. We met new friends at that Shabbat service, and they took us around that evening. One works at a banya (sauna), and some of our group went. Sivan came back with a philosophy that Russians enjoy the process of suffering. While enduring the heat, they are learning to enjoy the pain, where as in America, we only focus on where the pain will get us, the result. Here, people focus on the process, and learning from and enjoying the difficulties. As Vlad says, we are not digging graves for ourselves, we are building castles to stand on. We need to find ways to make the difficult beautiful, easy, and enjoyable. We are learning small things about Russian history all the time. Our teachers don’t like it when we waste food in scenes (we’ve had many a food fight) because it’s hard for them to watch, coming from a history where food was not plentiful. The first note groups get in their scene work is in their candle selection because they were traditional Russian candles, and the smell reminded them of church. The teachers here have a curious way of knowing exactly what will make the scene better. Sometimes it’s random. For example, one scene will go, and Sergei (our acting teacher) will say, good, next time you are going to do this scene while building a house of cards, and it will collapse on this line. Totally random, but they know what will make the scene more interesting. A lot of the time, we are focusing on storytelling and creating pieces of theatre as opposed to acting. How do we create metaphors on stage that are not too obvious? How do we make something delicate and beautiful? How do we make something PRECISE and specific? How will the audience know exactly who each person is and what is happening and why it is happening and where it is happening and how it is happening within two seconds after the curtain rises? How do we create an atmosphere? Are we sticking to the rules of the genre we’ve created for ourselves? I bought a copy of Chekhov’s plays in Russian and was able to compare the Natasha monologue I’m working on from Three Sisters with the translation I have. With the translation, as well as with the limited Russian I know, I could actually follow along and see the editorial differences between the original text and the translation. I can now make acting decisions based on Chekhov’s original text, and that feels really cool.
There is so much more to write about but my brains a little worn. So much to remember and recall. Hopefully I can get some more down soon! Picture to come when I have the time!! PICTURES BELOW!
Until then,
Z
Production photo from Tararaboombia (taken from School of Dramatic Art website)
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