Report from the farewell ceremony for actor and artistic director of the Maly Theater Yuri Solomin

The size of the man who was seen off on his last journey on Teatralnaya Square in Moscow was evidenced by the fact that the funeral orchestra was led by Yuri Bashmet. The heads of several states expressed their condolences, and the Japanese Ambassador thanked him for his work “on behalf of the entire Japanese people.” The head of the Investigative Committee praised him for “playing the role of law enforcement officers, as if he himself had worked in the Soviet police for many years.” The actor and student called him “a great, but simple and gentle man” with whom “all the girls on the course were in love.” And the audience did not regret that they stood in a long line for the artist: “You won’t watch this on TV.” So on Monday we said goodbye to the artistic director of the Maly Theater Yuri Solomin.

Yuri Solomin died on January 11 at the age of 88. The day before, he returned home from the hospital, where he was undergoing treatment after a stroke. Farewell to the actor took place on Monday at the Maly Theater, with which he had been associated for 70 years – since his studies at the Shchepkinsky School.

From the very morning, the exit from Petrovka was filled with funeral service vehicles, fences, riot police, and operators with tripods. According to Soviet habit, the spectators quickly formed an orderly queue to enter the theater. Those who came clutched bouquets in their hands, which were covered with more and more snow every minute. The tail stretched past the walls of the Central Department Store to the Bolshoi, but people kept coming. Journalists were allowed in through the service entrance, strictly checking their accreditation against the lists. There were almost more people with various equipment than others: for them the theater really turned out to be Maly.

The coffin with the actor’s body stood on stage among wreaths. Yuri Solomin, a full holder of the Order of Merit for the Fatherland, was said goodbye with special honors: soldiers of the Presidential Regiment, clanking their weapons, replaced each other several times on the watch at the coffin during the ceremony.

Director Vladimir Beilis, who hosted the ceremony, announced the start of the memorial service and introduced the first speaker – the head of the Investigative Committee, Alexander Bastrykin. He confidently stated that “all of Russia is mourning, seeing off the actor on his last journey,” and recalled: Mr. Solomin was not just an actor, but also a citizen, as well as a great friend of the Investigative Committee (the actor was a member of the public council under the department). “Our cooperation, sealed by a formal agreement, was not formal at all,” noted the head of the Investigative Committee. “He was always happy to attend the oath of office of our cadets and students.” The mentioned cadets in dress uniform huddled to the left of the stage, waiting for the end of Mr. Bastrykin’s speech so they could also lay flowers at the actor’s coffin. “Yuri Methodievich perfectly played the roles of law enforcement officers in films,” continued the head of the Investigative Committee, “as if he had worked for many years in the Soviet police.”

Concluding his speech, Mr. Bastrykin addressed the younger generation of actors with an appeal to preserve the traditions of the theater: “The entire Investigative Committee is with you.”

Vladimir Beilis read out telegrams from Vladimir Putin and Alexander Lukashenko, while the guests, who decided not to take the floor, laid bouquets on the stage. Among them were Minister of Culture Olga Lyubimova, actors Dmitry Pevtsov, Alexander Oleshko, Stanislav Lyubshin, poet Mikhail Nozhkin.

The rector of the Shchepkinsky School, Boris Lyubimov, noted that Mr. Solomin will be remembered as “cheerful, witty and friendly,” and added that “Yuri Methodievich was blessed with happiness in all areas of life”: “It is important for an actor to attract the love of space. This is how he attracted first Teatralnaya Square, and then the whole of Russia.” Deputy artistic director of Maly Alexey Dubrovsky added that “a good half of the theater’s troupe was raised” by Mr. Solomin, who always tried to create a home and family out of the theater. “Our large family of the Maly Theater has become orphaned,” summed up Mr. Dubrovsky. The actor and student of Mr. Solomin, Vasily Bochkarev, called the teacher “a great, but simple and gentle man” with whom “all the girls on the course were in love.”

From a portrait installed at the left edge of the stage, Yuri Solomin (in profile) thoughtfully looked at the stream of fans who came to lay bouquets on the stage. Ordinary people came in from this side – those who stood patiently in a long line with snow-dusted flowers.

On the right, through a special entrance, media personalities and journalists appeared. But Yuri Solomin did not look at them. And he even seemed to turn away.

Those gathered constantly mentioned that Yuri Solomin preserved the traditions of Russian art and Russian theater. Former Minister of Culture and Assistant to the President of the Russian Federation Vladimir Medinsky called the artist “the rock on which all new-fangled theatrical movements crashed.” “Nobody will remember these movements, but Yuri Methodievich will always be remembered. Fantastic knowledge, intelligence, nobility, incredible charm,” the official described.

The host of the ceremony reminded the audience that Yuri Solomin himself was the head of the Ministry of Culture: in 1990–1991, he headed the department, sharing the leadership of Maly.

Deputy Chief of Staff of the Government of the Russian Federation Leonid Levin also argued that Mr. Solomin was a “follower of the classics,” and also that “he played any role without cliches, because he did it with his heart and soul.”

The leader of the Communist Party of the Russian Federation Gennady Zyuganov recalled that the actor is from Chita: “The harsh climate of the Far East brings up honest people, liberal ideas have not penetrated there, Russian culture and speech have been preserved in their purest form.”

The Japanese Ambassador to Russia Akira Muto thanked the actor “on behalf of all the Japanese people” for Maly’s tour of Japan and collaboration with director Akira Kurosawa. The joint Soviet-Japanese film “Dersu Uzala,” where Yuri Solomin played one of the main roles, won an Oscar for best foreign language film in 1975.

After the speeches of the distinguished guests, the orchestra led by conductor Yuri Bashmet began playing on stage. To this music, an hour and a half after the start of the funeral service, the crowd of people who came with flowers began to dry up, and the host announced the end of the ceremony. Security began to escort the audience out, and students, relatives and the Maly troupe said goodbye to Yuri Solomin on stage for a long time.

The waiting room was crowded with people again. The elderly ladies on the bench were heatedly discussing old theatrical gossip associated with the name of the actor, admitting, however, that they did not remember so much of them. “A well-deserved farewell, beautiful,” one of the women admired, pulling on her hat. “He, of course, had his own cockroaches in his head, but they all tried for the sake of the theater.” Her interlocutor nodded actively, adding: “It’s good that you came, you can’t watch this on TV.”

Those who came, this time in a crowd, and not in an orderly queue, gathered at the exit. They climbed onto benches and New Year’s arches, trying to see what was happening, the recent snow squelched under their feet, people stepped out onto the roadway. Applause drowned out conversations and the noise of cars. The coffin was solemnly carried to the hearse, but theater staff followed it for a long time with bouquets. Gradually everyone began to leave, and the flowers were carried out and carried out.

“He was a good guy, we often accompanied him, he was still alive,” noted one of the theater security guards. “He always took pictures with us, gave autographs to his wives without any problems.

If I weren’t on shift today, I would still come. There is no shame in him.”

After the funeral service in the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, Yuri Solomin was buried at the Troekurovsky cemetery next to his wife, as the artist himself wanted.

Polina Yachmennikova