“The artists had their say about Oleg Efremov”

What was it? Half-anniversaries, quarter-anniversaries? No, now every year can be considered festive and round: 125 years of the Moscow Art Theater – this should be celebrated! Wash, laugh and mourn, of course. Remember all.

What was it – “Evenings in Kamergersky” on “Culture” for five evenings. A feast of the spirit, no less. Verniki led, of course. And there were everyone who could, who lived. Almost.

Talking about the theater, about the beloved, wonderful and terrible Moscow Art Theater – what could be better? It was so sincere, so tender, magical – you will rock.

A feast of the spirit – it wasn’t me who said it, but the magnificent Natalya Tenyakova. Some smiled, but the rest retained the seriousness and humanity so appropriate for the anniversary. If you want to stay on the idle but high-flown wave, the “feast of the spirit” is pronounced with feeling, sense, arrangement, and the famous Moscow Art Theater pause. Or you can quickly, in one word, removing all pathos. After all, theater is a fun business, as Oleg Palych and Oleg the Second Tabakov liked to repeat. And the founding father Stanislavsky-Alekseev formulated this way: “In the theater everything should be simpler, easier, higher, more fun.” More fun, you know.

Oh, what a pleasure it was to listen to all of them: Bartoshevich, Lyubimov, Bashmet, Shvydkoy, Messerer, the famous stage speech teacher of the Studio School Anna Petrova, artist-designer Elena Afanasyeva…

And what artists there were, they remembered! And how they remembered! Stanislav Lyubshin, Avangard Leontiev, Igor Zolotovitsky, Evgenia Dobrovolskaya, Alexander Semchev (yes, he is completely different, there is nothing left of that fat man), Marina Zudina and… here the carcasses are playing, the timpani are beating – Konstantin Khabensky himself, artistic director and simply artist, which sounds proud. He is on first name terms with everyone, simple and democratic, just like he came from the people.

Well, you understand: where Messerer is, that means Akhmadullina, a friend of the theater, is there; if Tenyakova, then also Yursky, who staged at the Moscow Art Theater at the very beginning of the 90s, in the new era, the legendary play “Players XXI” based on Gogol with the wonderful Kalyagin, Filatov, Khazanov, Nevinny… Well, where is Marina Zudina, there he is, Oleg Tabakov, “old man Zudin,” was dear and close to everyone, and everyone had something to remember that was cherished and hidden.

And what directors were sitting here – Ginkas, Shapiro, you’ll be heard. Yes, sad and funny, anxious and restless.

Theater is a fun thing, but an anniversary is also a fun thing. The artists, sons of bitches, saints and sinners, said their word about Oleg Efremov, the Prophetic Oleg. How the old people of the Moscow Art Theater called him to save the theater of Stanislavsky and Nemirovich; how he set to work with enthusiasm, as if he began to pull the theater out of the swamp by the hair… How he himself incomparably showed the artists what to play… And then a split, the best followed me, the rest went out, followed Doronina… Very little was remembered about this, because it was a tragedy. By and large, nothing came of the reform (and they didn’t talk about it). And I remember: the 100th anniversary of the Moscow Art Theater, the Big Stage. 1998, default. There are tables with food on the stage. Efremov stands and speaks. He says very important words. About the development of the theater, about the crisis of the theater, about the founders with traditions… But no one listens to him, no one hears him. Only the clink of plates, forks, spoons, knives can be heard. It’s a default, hungry year, the artists want to eat, they have no time for high things. And Efremov is like King Lear or Don Quixote fighting with windmills. Like in “Beware of the Car,” when young Efremov, against the background of Stanislavsky’s portrait, loudly: “There will be no performance!” But he was.

…And then Oleg II, an effective manager and a brilliant artist, came and fixed everything.

Then Zhenovach came. And he left… And now Khabensky.

An anniversary is a fun thing. But according to “Culture” there are four wonderful performances of the Moscow Art Theater: two by Chekhov – “Ivanov” with Smoktunovsky, “The Seagull” with Nevinny, Miroshnichenko, young Zhenya Mironov; “Tartuffe” by Efros and “Cabal of the Holy One” by Shapiro. You know, in my opinion, this is quiet horror, television is simply killing Chekhov. Erects a fourth and fifth wall between the theater and the audience. Anton Pavlovich becomes boring, irrelevant, outdated. Don’t watch Chekhov on TV anymore (with rare exceptions – Tuminas or once Tovstonogov). “Go, go to the theater, live and die in it if you can.”

…And I switched Chekhov to football, to Match TV, to the Champions League. Oh, this is where the true theater of experiences and ideas is, this is where “I am in the proposed circumstances,” this is where the notorious fourth wall breaks down! This is where the director’s and coaching theater is, where the ultimate task and improvisation are! It’s not for nothing that the Moscow Art Theater always supported Spartak – kindred spirits. Spartak may not be the same, but there are others: both Manchester, Milan, Napoli, Bayern, PSG…

But today, these days, let’s thunder together, no matter what… Well, fans: “The Moscow Art Theater is a champion!” And neither fluff nor feather. To hell!

THERE WERE PEOPLE IN OUR TIME…

I watched this film based on “Culture” with bated breath, afraid to miss a word, even a frame. “A word about an older friend. “Politoboz” is called. The author is Sergey Alekseev, special correspondent for Central Television in India and Vietnam. About international TV reviewers of the Brezhnev era, the idols of my childhood. I was lucky enough to meet many of them later.

Yes, they served the ideology, the party, the Central Committee. Yes, everyone was communists. But what kind of people, what kind of people! Personalities. The heroes are not you. They don’t make things like that anymore.

I remember each one with tenderness, no less. But what about?!

Here is Bovin Alexander Evgenievich. Brezhnev’s friend, Brezhnev’s assistant. That’s why I allowed myself more on TV than others. The people’s eyes popped out of their heads, the hairs on their heads moved: is it really possible? Yes, it is possible, although he still justified sending troops into Afghanistan. We met with him in his office at Izvestia, when he had already returned from Israel, where he worked as ambassador. Oh, it was such happiness for me… And then I came to his house to give the text for verification. He came out in a dazzling white robe, probably just after a shower, with mustaches in different directions, like a walrus. My dad’s favorite political item.

We spoke with Valentin Zorin, the famous Americanist, host of “Studio 9” and “Today in the World” on Radio Russia. The master was turning 85, but he had not changed at all, he was in shape, and had no intention of retiring. I remembered an anecdote from the times of detente and stagnation: Zorin and Kissinger meet. “Are you Jewish?” – Kissinger asks Zorin. “No, I’m Russian.” – “And I’m American.” They really were very similar.

After the dismissal of all Soviet observers, Igor Fesunenko worked on district television, a local, if not a small-town channel. Yes, the same Fesunenko, brother by blood, fan by the grace of God, fan of the Brazilian national team, friend of Pele and generally telling us about football as a religion. He was also an ironist, humorist and peace activist. A brilliant man.

I came to the house of the USSR TV correspondent in France, Georgy Zubkov. He was turning 90. It was raining heavily and I was completely wet. Georgy Ivanovich and his wife, seeing my pitiful appearance, ordered me to take off my socks and gave me their own, dry ones from Zubkov. They gave us hot tea, fed us, and only then our conversation began. There was this meme about Zubkov. The Vremya program, report, Georgy Ivanovich appears in all his glory with a microphone: “The Christmas trees are festively decorated, but the eyes of ordinary Parisians are gloomy.” Here it was possible to substitute “New Yorkers”, “Londoners” and “read the whole list, please” according to the method: about unemployment, taxes, eternal rise in prices, galloping inflation. And we looked at these New Year’s pictures with admiration and dreamed of seeing Paris first and then dying. When I reminded Georgy Ivanovich of this saying, he laughed long and kindly. What happened, happened.

Genrikh Borovik is the only political observer who is alive today. We met with him several times both at his home and at work. Borovik seems to have two lives. In the first, a very successful fighter on the ideological front. There is a recording of his very offensive words about Dovlatov, which he probably regrets now. At the same time, meetings, interviews with Hemingway, Fidel, Kerensky, books, plays, theater performances… And a second life after the death of his son Artyom. Here Borovik is a tragic man, a wise and very worthy man.

…And there were other great journalists: Alexander Kaverznev, a smart, blue-eyed handsome man who died immediately after a business trip to Afghanistan. Vladimir Tsvetov, who never left Japan, with his masterpiece stories that made you fall in love with the Land of the Rising Sun. Vsevolod Ovchinnikov, who worked in China and Japan, maintained an impeccable reputation even at that time. Farid Seiful-Mulyukov, a man of encyclopedic knowledge on the Middle East and the Arab world. Boris Kalyagin, a young and early reporter in England during the Brezhnev years. I remember when Margaret Thatcher came to Moscow for a visit. Three Soviet observers were thrown at her, Kalyagin was among them, and the “iron lady” easily made all three of them, talking to them… Georgy Arbatov, Stanislav Kondrashov… The list is incomplete, there were many of them.

“Yes, there were people in our time, not like the current tribe.” They don’t make them like that anymore.