“Theater of the XXII Century”: Vladimir Mashkov celebrated his anniversary with a unique performance

As is now customary in “Snuffbox”, at the beginning of the performance there is a familiar mise-en-scène: Vladimir Lvovich, at 60, easily running up the steps to the stage, with an inimitable smile at the edge of the curtain, giving a speech. Brief but informative, this time of a statistical nature. Namely: in the play “Atom of the Sun” there are 4 directors plus one artistic director, 5 artists, 400 costumes, more than 80 changes in the stage space. More than 130 lighting devices, special effects and video projection, as well as 2 kg of rosin were used. There are 44 people from the production department, 65 from the acting department, 400 in the auditorium. And in conclusion, he promised that there is definitely no such performance in Moscow – only his. Well, let’s see.

What begins to happen next surprises from the first minute. Lines of philosophical content run across the backdrop, voiced in Mashkov’s voice with an emphasis on key words: “What is the Universe? This is a huge theater in which an exciting performance called “LIFE” is performed. What is a sense of life? Understand the CREATOR’s plan, which means discovering the “ATOM OF THE SUN” within yourself. What is a sun atom? This is a spark of talent that is given to every person from birth. Discovering your TALENT and giving it to people is why we are here. That’s why you’re here. So here we go!”

Out of the darkness appears a man in a suit made up of mirror shards from head to toe; his face is not visible. It was as if he had just separated from the mirrored walls of the foyer, in which he had long lived, and in a suit made of fragments stepped onto the stage – the invisible man became visible. The mirror one turned out to be flexible, mobile, nimble (Alexander Limin). Like a conductor, he waved his hands, like a magician, he controlled the space: the stage, as if alive, tossed and turned, playing with the rays of the spotlights. She picked up groups of young people and swallowed them up like a black bottomless maw. She circled, elevated, forced her to somersault, take risks and thought that she was the mistress of the situation, and the Mirror One was her deputy, who the further, the more it seemed to accelerate the pace of the wordless magical action.

Magic, when, for example, in the space of a black office there live only hands, many hands up to the elbows, and they synchronously form into different combinations – into diagonals, squares, strokes, falling like slanting rain into the darkness. A man-made spectacle, captivating with its graphics, geometry in a warm, slightly golden color… A beautiful deep voice will sound, and an opera diva will appear in a fancy outfit, and after some time two more opera giants will emerge from the hatches, adding mystery to the spectacle. And all this without pauses, announcements, explanations, but with a rigid, clear rhythm.

“Rhythm” will be written in light on the backdrop, and it will be revealed by guys in black suits with bright scarlet spats and matching shoes. They, smiling from ear to ear, will explain what rhythm is, beating out either a czardash or some other catchy melody with their scarlet shoes. Sparks fly out from under their feet.

“Bolero” by Maurice Ravel will be performed by a group of drummers who have taken over three levels built vertically on the stage. The sound of “Bolero” will go into a hot phase when the guys, exactly from the cover of an American magazine of the 20-30s of the last century (white shirts with rolled up sleeves, black loose trousers with suspenders, caps), defiantly begin to perform acrobatic flights in front of each other – on stage, on low trampolines. This is what rhythm is – it is not said, but proven. And the one who owns it will hear it in a poetic or prose line, in theatrical material – whatever he takes up.

And on stage they already deal with magic, that is, illusion, harmony, conflict – the basis of any story, accompanying them with a laconic text. “If I see it, I will believe it,” said the man. “If you believe it, you will see,” answered the Creator” (libretto author Oleg Antonov). And “Tabakerka” is so visually convincing and so highly beautiful. Convincing, because the stunts and numbers were performed very well, on which a large team of choreographers (Evgeny and Ekaterina Masalkov), movers (Alexander Limin), musicians (director Alexey Elkin) and young directors (Alena Lapteva, Arthur Kasimov, Vladislav Miller and Sevastyan) worked Smyshnikov) under the direction of maestro Mashkov. And at the same time, the composition of vocal, dance, and circus numbers looks unified, meaningful and, most importantly, theatrical. In which, in addition to the feeling of triumph, pomp, and a bright arena, there is sensitivity and sensuality, an inexplicable tenderness of magic.

However, the directors still allowed one rough, vulgar touch into their elegantly gambling narrative – the four clowns from Mashkov’s play “The Deadly Number” (2023 version), who, as befits carpet-benders, impudently pestered the audience, but wisely, not for long and beautifully emerged from the interactive story with the aria Vesti la giubba, which ends the first act of Rogero Leoncavallo’s opera “Pagliacci.” Director Arthur Kasimov was irresistible in this role, as were his accomplices in their short interludes.

Surprisingly, but true: on stage, out of 65 participants – only theater artists, students and teachers of Tabakov College – not a single (!!!) invitee. As Mashkov says: “Everything, like teeth, belongs here.” They sing in real academic voices, do somersault mortales, play jazz, can play the harp, and tap step at speed. And they master the body, genres, musical instruments without discounting the fact that they studied drama.

I don’t know whether they have reached the bar that Vladimir Mashkov set for new artists when he came to the college and theater founded by his teacher Oleg Tabakov, but the fact that “Atom of the Sun” sets a different performing level for metropolitan actors requires a different one in a number of disciplines professional equipment is a fact. The powerful dramatic actress of the Vakhtangov Theater, who came to “Atom of the Sun,” generally told Mashkov that this was a theater of the 22nd century, and presented Vladimir Lvovich with a gold inlaid spoon in honor of the anniversary. “Although you were born with it,” said Lyudmila Vasilyevna Maksakova and clarified, “With the atom of the sun.” For my part, I can testify that there is definitely no such performance in Moscow.

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