A performance with a difficult fate at the Vakhtangov Theater

At the Theatre. Vakhtangov, the premiere of the play “Suicide” took place. The stage path of the play, written by N. R. Erdman in 1928, in itself is replete with dramatic twists worthy of an exciting screenplay.

It is worth mentioning that Erdman’s work was immediately highly appreciated by Gorky, Lunacharsky and Stanislavsky. Moreover, the latter even drew a bold parallel between Erdman and Gogol. In the year it was written, Meyerhold undertook to stage the play, but the Glavrepertkom, which was ubiquitous at that time, stopped the idea in the bud. Rabochaya Moskva, on the other hand, famously wrote on its pages about Meyerhold’s attempt to “push through the reactionary play” and, no less, about his “anti-Soviet speech.”

Further, the disgraced banner was picked up by Yevgeny Vakhtangov, but he also failed to stage the “Suicide”. K. S. Stanislavsky himself began to rehearse the play, however, after a personal appeal to Stalin. But soon the leader of the peoples unexpectedly changed his mind and spoke in a letter to Stanislavsky in the sense that he himself “does not have a very high opinion of the play” The Suicide “, and “comrades believe that it is empty and harmful.” This happened already in 1931. A year after these events, Meyerhold again takes up the play. But showing the finished performance to the party commission turns out to be the fact that Kaganovich, who headed the commission, categorically forbids the premiere. The funny thing is that the same fate awaits the “Suicide” and during the post-Khrushchev thaw. Already in 1982, Valentin Pluchek staged it at his Theater of Satire, but very quickly the comrades realized it, and the performance was removed from the repertoire. By the way, the same fate befell the “Suicide” at the Vakhtangov Theater and Taganka.

The most surprising thing is that the play “Suicide” was on the same stage, which is staged today, staged by Evgeny Rubenovich Simonov, whose name the stage bears today. In 1989, “Suicide” was played by graduates of the Simonov course, now the leading artists of the Vakhtangov Theater – Vladislav Demchenko, Igor Kartashev, Svetlana Iosefiy.

In their own country, as they say, there are no prophets. But Swedish Gothenburg, as well as the theaters of Zurich, West Berlin, Vienna, Munich, Frankfurt am Main, and later the theaters of France, Canada, America and England boast of a noisy production.

Premiere at the Theater Vakhtangov’s play “The Suicide” staged by Pavel Safonov clearly demonstrates what exactly censors of all times did not like in the play “The Suicide” from the moment it was first banned by the Glavrepertkom. Despite the farce and irony of Pavel Safonov’s production, Erdman’s text breaks into the viewer’s subconscious, not even opening the door with his shoulder, but kicking it out with his foot.

Each phrase of Erdman’s text sounds so modern that the viewer is amazed and quietly crawls into the Internet to double-check whether the director has brought something to the text from himself. No, he didn’t bring anything, every word was written by the author himself almost a century ago. This is what is amazing! As if from the rostrum, slogans like: “In our country, all political groups need an ideological dead man” sound. Or: “It’s a pity this dead man is not the largest … Now, if one of the more prominent figures were in his place.” “Yes, what difference does it make, what a dead man! The main thing is to serve it correctly!”

What is it? Or this: “His death is a signal of the plight of the domestic intelligentsia!”, “He died for freedom of trade!”, “For freedom of creativity!”, “For free love!”, “The dead man is still more alive than all of us and has gone far ahead in way of progress!

Spectators enter the kitchen, where technologies are honed before their eyes and dishes made in the process of political struggle are served. Just as Dostoevsky, in the days of Tsarist Russia, decides with Verkhovensky’s hands to adapt the death of the ideological suicide Kirillov for the benefit of terrorists, so Erdman, already during the existence of the Land of Soviets, in an ironic manner, shows where the “struggle for the dead” can lead.

How else can one explain that the idiot and philistine Podsekalnikov (Yuri Tsokurov), who wanted to eat a piece of liver sausage in the morning and quarreled with his wife (Ekaterina Kramzina) on this basis, suddenly, contrary to all logic, becomes the center of interests of people from various strata of society who are ready to pay for his suicide. Semyon Semyonovich, who began with a joke and a desire to take revenge on his wife and mother-in-law for not being appreciated enough, and does not have time to blink an eye, as he falls into a whirlpool of claims from others that he would settle scores with this life beautifully, that is, “ideologically” . For two and a half hours, the viewer has been puzzling over where the roof of the overplayed and then bewildered Podsekalnikov will go in the next moment? Moreover, the neighbor in the communal apartment, Alexander Petrovich Kalabushkin, is not averse to speculating on the last will of the deceased. Will Podsekalnikov speak out angrily at the Kremlin, which, of course, is to blame for his failed fate? Or maybe he will announce that he shot himself because of an unhappy love for the beauties who fought because of him, one of whom, Raisa Filippovna (Maria Shastina), zealously praises her beautiful belly, and the other, Cleopatra Maksimovna (Asya Domskaya), does not less pretty face? Or maybe Podsekalnikov will die for the intelligentsia, for trade, for literary circles, or for the church? After all, the dead can not be afraid of anything and embed that truth-womb that the living are afraid to express?

Set designer Denis Sazonov reinforced the absurdity of the situation with quite symbolic constructions, with their minimalism going back to the traditional rug, which can serve as a stage for a good artist. The circle – the platform – as a symbol of the closed space of perception of Podsekalnikov’s life. On which he rushes about, trying to shoot himself. And in contrast – a huge hand without a body, as if part of a sculpture well known to every Soviet person, indicating in which direction and how far Podsekalnikov should go. Several black slates on which the hero captures with white chalk what really excites him. The giant telephone receiver, through which Podsekalnikov, furious with near death, speaks to the Kremlin, is an expressive symbol of the contrast between a small man and great power. A huge long table, at which painfully well-known characters gathered – the owner of the shooting range, the cynic neighbor Kalabushkin (Vasily Simonov), his mistress, the leader of the jazz orchestra Peresvetova (Alexandra Streltsina), the cuckold husband Stepan Peresvetov (Karen Oveyan), the butcher Pugachev (Evgeny Kosyrev), always ready to flaunt in front of the crowd about the fate of the intelligentsia Aristarkh Grand-Skubik (Oleg Makarov), writer Viktor Viktorovich (Dmitry Solomykin), Yegor Timofeevich (Yuri Kraskov), peeping at women through a crack with Marxist interest, priest Elpidy (Artyom Parkhomenko), quarreling ladies Cleopatra Maksimovna (Asya Domskaya) and Raisa Filippovna (Maria Shastina). Apart in this story are the magnificent mother-in-law Serafima Ilyinichna (in this role, the talent of the honored artist Svetlana Yosefy shone with renewed vigor) and wife Podsekalnikova Maria (Ekaterina Kramzina). You can write in this story in detail and for a long time about everyone: “Suicide” is a gallery of bright grotesque images and talented performers. Moreover, each character, with a general virtuoso ensemble inclusion, comes to the fore and has his unconditional moment of fame.

Good and Podsekalnikov (Yuri Tsokurov), who played his Semyon Semyonovich with love, depth and ultimate naturalness. He is funny, and touching, and pathetic, and at some moments causes a feeling of respect. And most importantly, he is close to the viewer, who, unlike a flock of vultures that flocked to the alleged corpse of Podsekalnikov, in no case can condemn the hero for deceit and completely natural love of life.

Pavel Safonov saturates the space of his production with various directorial finds. The people surrounding Podsekalnikov in his mind either move in the rhythm of a freeze-frame, as if imprinting themselves in photographs, or, retreating deeper into the stage, they resemble a shadow theater from the side. A giant hand pointing towards nowhere symbolically hints at exactly where he will be, moving along the chosen course. A symbolic eye on the back carefully observes this process. The cries of the society in which Podsekalnikov renders more than once turn into the annoying scream of a stupid flock of ducks. And the limit to all this rampage is clearly limited by Yegor Timofeevich, suggesting that those present “be inspired, according to the decree.”

Podsekalnikov suddenly at some point finds out for himself that he has lived his whole life for statistics. And demands satisfaction from life. The poet was truly right when he wrote the lines: “People beat their heads with their own, and not someone else’s. They fight to the death… Well, if it’s for life, what kind of life is it?

Makes you think about questions that you want to push out of consciousness. It puts it face to face with its history, the lessons of which do not teach anyone anything.

Once Semyon Semenovich (Yuri Tsokurov) woke up, wished to eat a piece of liverwurst, started arguing with his wife (Ekaterina Kramzina), the wife ran to pour out her heart to other residents of the communal apartment – and everything started spinning.

Director Pavel Safonov staged The Suicide as an eccentric, impetuous, partly carnival action. The spirit of the carnival is helped to create on stage by the magnificent musical arrangement and costumes of Evgenia Panfilova, but the main role, of course, belongs to the actors. If there were an award for the best married couple on stage, I would probably give it to the couple Yuri Tsokurov – Ekaterina Kramzina, who is remarkably complemented by the hero’s mother-in-law, as if combining all the mother-in-laws in the world (Svetlana Iosefiy, in a different composition Olga Tumaykina). Oleg Makarov plays Grand Skubik, Vasily Simonov plays Kalabushkin’s neighbor, Alexander Streltsin plays Margarita, Yuri Kraskov plays Yegorushka, Artyom Parkhomenko plays Elpidy’s father, Asya Domskaya (in a different cast Anna Antonova) plays Cleopatra Maksimovna. And to learn more about these characters (and about others too), it is better to watch the play.

Elena Bulova.

Author’s photo