Uncomfortable words – Newspaper Kommersant No. 13 (7458) dated 01/25/2023

The famous Berliner Ensemble Theater in Berlin hosted the premiere of Ivanov based on Chekhov’s play staged by Lithuanian-American director Jana Ross. The heroes “moved” to modern Germany, and the main character of the story was Ivanov’s wife, a terminally ill Jewess Sarah.

Those in Russia who continue to worry about the “abolition of Russian culture” and discrimination against heritage can be reassured – at least about Berlin theatrical life. Chekhov here is still perhaps the most sought-after author among the leading theaters: at the Deutsches Theater, the season began with Platonov directed by Timofey Kulyabin, Thomas Ostermeier promises to release Chekhov’s The Seagull at Schaubün in March, and the first this year Ivanov, staged by Yana Ross, was a big premiere at the Brecht House. However, with the reassurance of those who demand not only unrelenting attention to the Russian classics, but also strict adherence to the letter of the canonical texts (by the way, there are enough of these even in Germany, eager for any innovations), the situation is more complicated – there is a warning on the Ivanov poster, that the performance was made frei nach Tschechow, that is, “freely”, based on motives.

The action of the performance takes place not in the Russian provinces and not in Russia at all, but in modern Germany. On the turntable of the large stage, stage designer Bettina Meyer built a heavy pavilion, which is the building of a tennis club. Not for the rich, so-so, for the very middle class. There is a lounge with a bar and lounge chairs, an outdoor terrace and nooks and crannies with lockers. You can play tennis everywhere – both on the proscenium and somewhere behind, on a lawn fenced with a fence, from where the sounds of blows can be heard. Small green balls now and then come across under the feet of the characters. Sleeping at the beginning of the action in an armchair, Nicholas (that is, Ivanov), tall, as if not a tennis player at all, but a basketball player, Michael (that is, Borkin) wakes him up by pouring a whole basket of such balls on him: get up, they say, it’s time to play! The play by Yana Ross shows a tired, emasculated society that is constantly trying to cheer itself up with a game. And in particular manifestations it even works, but in general it is dead.

Once upon a time, Henrietta Yanovskaya had a famous play “Ivanov and Others”, where the characters of his other theatrical works were added to the characters of an early, imperfect Chekhov’s play. The performance of the “Berliner Ensemble” could be called “Others and Ivanov”. The protagonist, played by Peter Moltzen, does not stand out much from the boring “tennis” community. Here, almost everyone is dressed in a sports uniform – white T-shirts and shorts, here everyone is not at home and not at work, and there is no time for long, wordy and painful reflections that distinguish Chekhov’s Ivanov. Nicholas in the “Berliner Ensemble” is almost devoid of the famous Ivanov monologues, but even so it is clear that the person is devastated and depressed. No, there is nothing “Hamletian” about him, he is just a modern man in the street.

As for the “others”, there was no need to add anyone to the list of actors. The law of freedom allows not only to improvise “on a theme” or borrow lines from other plays, but also to include texts from outside authors in the performance, in particular the essay “Consider the Lobster” by American writer David Foster Wallace. Transformations are given to the theater very easily – for example, Babakina became a popular Instagram blogger who arrived from Dubai, vigorously celebrating the appearance of her 120,000th subscriber, Kosykh turned into a tennis instructor, and Paul (Lebedev) and Stina (Zinaida) from aged drunkards and misers into energetic life-lovers who are not averse to indulging in marital duties between times. In general, Chekhov himself is asking for his play to be made into a satirical pamphlet about society. And here the notorious German pragmatism also comes into its own. When asked by Sarah about what keeps Dr. Lvov (Jurgen in the local language) in this unhealthy community, he answers her bluntly: “I signed the contract.” All of them are not up to long explanations, because every action seems to have a rational reason.

Dying Sarah in general becomes almost the main character of the play by Yana Ross. Partly due to the fact that she is played by the strongest actress of the troupe, Constance Becker, but not only for this reason. Also because of the painful topic of anti-Semitism for Germany. How to play in Berlin the scene in which Ivanov, driven to a frenzy by Sarah’s accusations, shouts to her “shut up, Jew”? A whole system of “protection” is built in the performance. First, Sarah is absolutely devoid of the halo of the victim. Although she is terminally ill – tuberculosis, however, has been replaced by cancer – she does not stop playing tennis and looks no more sickly than others: modern medicine works wonders. And as if on purpose, in order to additionally prepare the audience for the terrible, a scene was invented in which the characters, sitting in a semicircle, undergo psychoanalytic training – they remember the words that infuriate them. And for Sarah, the word is “Jewish.” But all the same, the premiere auditorium emits some kind of involuntary collective groan when Ivanov interrupts the tennis set by shouting “Judensau!” – “Jewish pig”, that is, a Nazi insult to the Jews.

After dying, Sarah does not disappear from the play. And even her parents, whom she abandoned when she converted from Judaism to Christianity, appear – an elderly Jewish couple who came to her daughter’s funeral. One of the most grotesquely witty scenes in Ivanov is a kind of funeral service, in which the characters, gathered around a small urn with the ashes of the deceased, address Sarah with speeches under the supervision of a video camera. After this, no wedding can be real – of course, Sasha Lebedeva will not replace Ivanova Sarah. But nobody needs Ivanov himself, so he has no choice but to fall dead in the middle of a disorderly and chaotic celebration. However, only in order to jump up alive in a few seconds and join the orchestra, which consisted of the characters of the play. After all, a cheerful musical number is the most reliable ending to a hopeless story.

Esther Steinbock