Experience in Moscow: Part 4

November 2, 2007


Dear Friends, Family, and Faculty,

Hi everybody! A belated HAPPY HALLOWEEN to you all. We actually hosted a Halloween Party at our dorm for the Russian students. While Halloween is certainly not celebrated here, most Russian people have a vague idea of what it is. And when I say vague, I mean EXTREMELY vague. We saw a flyer for a Halloween Party at a club, and their logo was a cartoon jack-o-lantern...except it was a watermelon jack-o-lantern. I guess they figure one of our traditions involves merely carving faces into any large piece of fruit we can find. When we asked our group leader how to present the Halloween Party, she told us: "Well, the Russian students really only know about the sexy Halloween, not the scary Halloween, so you might want to show them some of the scary side of Halloween." The sexy Halloween...hmm...whatever that means... So, everybody pitched in some money, we got some tacky decorations and bought some drinks and snacks, and some people dressed up (I had neither the time nor the patience to find a costume).

I hope you've all been enjoying the fall. Despite all the talk of the dreaded "Russian winter," the cold weather really hasn't hit us yet. Since I've been here, there's only been one day of snow, and as of late, it's actually been quite comfortable. In the 40's in Farenheit. So, it's been relatively warm - not the extreme frigidity typical of Russia, and while I'm sure Al Gore would be mortified if he were here, I've been quite pleased! However, the Weather report says it's supposed to snow on Sunday, so I may bite my tongue soon.

Anyway, here's another update on my life and my experience in Russia, divided into chapters for your reading pleasure:


THE "KAPUSNIK"

On the same day we returned from St. Petersburg, worn and battered as we were, we were scheduled to perform in the "Kapusnik," an annual performance put on by Moscow Art Theatre students. The word "Kapusnik" literally translates to "Cabbage Party." Dr. Smeliansky, our Theatre History teacher explained: Many years ago, when the Orthodox Church did not allow theatres to play on Lent, one actor of the Moscow Art Theatre (I forget his name, but it has so many consonants, I don't think it's possible for an American to pronounce anyway) began a cabaret performance and followed it with a party. Since meat is forbidden during Lent, the actors who participated ate cabbage pies, and thus the "Cabbage Party" was born. The performances mostly consisted of comic sketches and parodies. While at first it was very exclusive, the actors soon began inviting people, and the Kapusnik became a prestigious event at the Moscow Art Theatre. Nowadays, it is directed and performed entirely by Moscow Art Theatre School students, and serves as a sort of welcome gala for new students.

We were asked to perform a short piece. The Russian students encouraged us to keep it brief, with as little speaking as possible. My acting teacher suggested that we sing a popular Russian song "Stariklon" ("The Maple Tree"), and he taught it to us. So, in putting our piece together about two hours before the performance, we incorporated the song into a short sketch. We wanted to do something comical and understandable (and avoid offending the Russians...we weren't sure about their sense of humor), so we decided to poke fun at ourselves. We began with someone in our group yelling out "September 18" (the date we arrived) in Russian. Then, we all entered on-stage in little groups, each group representing an American tourist cliche: excessive taking of photos, unnecessary amounts of winter wear, scarfing down McDonalds, staring at huge maps, unsuccessfuly trying to speak Russian, I came on with the "souvenir" group, wearing a kitschy fuzzy Russian hat (which I unfortunately purchased in St. Petersburg because I thought it made me look like Dr. Zhivago...only to discover to my dismay that no one in Russia actually wears those damned hats) and holding cheap matroshka dolls and a souvenir Hermitage commemorative picture book, with a huge smile imprinted on my face. Then, someone in the group yelled "October 18" (the date of the Kapusnik), we dropped the stereotypes and sang the song. We weren't sure how the Russian students would take it, but they seemed to really love it, cheering, applauding, and laughing hysterically. It was the first time that we felt fully and officially accepted as students of the Moscow Art Theatre...sort of like an initiation. The next day, we were told that it was one of the best performances they had ever seen American students do at a Kapusnik. So, even if we never come back here, we at least left our indelible mark at the Moscow Art Theatre.

What was especially nice about the Kapusnik was to see the Russian students let loose and have a good time. One of the acting teachers here explained to us that in acting, they always find it easier for American students to let go and be silly on stage. While the Russian students are all phenomenal actors (they are chosen from nearly 8,000 applicants), especially when it comes to serious work, they sometimes tend to have more trouble with outrageous comedy. He told us that he believes it comes from 200 years of democratic American society, as opposed to the monarchy and socialism of the Russian past. Even today, Russia is by no means a free country, and that part of the "Russian soul" can prevent an actor's complete freedom onstage, especially when it comes to silliness and fun. So, it was refreshing to see Russian students make fun of themselves and their teachers and generally just having a good time.

After the performance, a party was held at a club about 10 minutes walk from our dorm. The tradition is so honored, that half of our classes were actually cancelled the next day, seeing as the party began at 1am and went on until about 6am. The party was solely for MXAT students, and I felt very V.I.P. when I was able to flash my school ID to the bouncer and be let into the club without a problem. A club is a club is a club, and it was similar to a club experience you would have anywhere else, and we really had a great time, even though some of the Russians did find our dancing quite humorous. There was also a traditional Russian kissing game, but I won't go into detail...


MOSCOW LIVING

Now that about half of the semester has passed, I feel much more integrated into Russian life. I can read very well, I've been told I have a good Russian accent, and I can order food almost effortlessly. I've been mixing in better with Russian people, as well. I finally got Tania, the beautiful cahier woman at the cafeteria, to smile at me. For awhile, I was utterly terrified of her; if I didn't have exact change, she would give me a stare so cold I nearly turned to stone. But nowadays, we smile and laugh, and we help each other with our respective languages (she's helped me with numbers and phrases...and I taught her how to say "cottage cheese.")

Still, there are those aspects of Russian culture I will never be able to get used to. Russians love to smoke, and smoking is legal inside most buildings, and if not in a particular building (like a theatre), there will be plenty of designated smoking areas. Last time I saw a play, when I entered the Men's Room, I felt like I had entered some sort of gas chamber. There was so much smoke, I could neither breathe nor see through the thick haze. Needless to say, I held it in for awhile longer.

Russian people (especially of the older generation) are very traditional, especially when it comes to clothing. First of all, there are shoe-buffer machines in the foyers of most buildings. Russians demand clean shoes...it's something they take very seriously. I can't tell you how many death stares I've received directed towards the old boots I wear, or at my converse sneakers after a long day of walking through wet, grimy streets. Also, one is always expected to hang his coat wherever he goes. There are coat-check desks in almost every building (no tips required). A few days ago, we were scheduled to see a show, and I had a few minutes to grab a quick bite at the "stalovaya" (cafeteria), so I ran up as fast as I could, still wearing my coat and hat, hoping to grab a few snacks and run. However, my plan was foiled; as soon as I requested food, the lunch-lady began screaming at me in the typical high-pitched babushka voice. I didn't understand a word, but I finally gathered that she was refusing to serve me unless I hung up my jacket and removed my hat. Sometimes I want to just be able to say "chill out," then I remember...I'm in Russia.

No matter how many times I cross paths with them, the homeless people in Moscow still disturb me. They are a very different type of homeless than in America, far more tragic and far less threatening. While in New York, most of the homeless I see I would describe as drug-addled and terrifying. Here, I would describe them as simply unfortunate and futile. The majority of them are elderly...tiny little toothless babushkas, holding their hands out and crying; there's one old man who sits at the same place every day, a scruffy white beard smeared on his face, a cigarette dangling in his mouth, and his body always quivering. Then there are those with missing limbs. I've seen several men in soldiers' uniforms with missing legs asking for money. There is an armless man that stands in one of the underground walkways with a sign around his neck (though he's usually wearing an enormous jacket, so I've wondered whether he is scamming). By far, the worst is the homeless children. I've seldom seen them, but when I have, it's broken my heart. While in St. Petersburg, I ate at a small, fast Mediterranean restaurant, and a little girl in tatters, with yellow teeth and dirt on her face, walked in and began begging people for money. The workers at the counter immediately yelled at her to leave, and she walked out with weeping in shame. I felt like I was in some sort of Dickensian nightmare. Apparently, there are very few homeless shelters in Russia, and taking care of the homeless children is high on Putin's to-do list. I can only hope that strong action will be taken to fix the problem.

We finally get a real weekend! We have classes on Saturdays, so we usually only have Sunday to rest, but this Monday is a national holiday. I'm not sure what it's called, but it's basically a commemorative Communism Day. For years, the holiday to celebrate Sovietism in Russia was on November 7th, but after the fall of Communism, the government removed the holiday and created a new one on November 5th, only two days before it, to commemorate some battle against Poland that no one (not even Russian people) remembers or cares about. So, while technically, it's not a Soviet holiday, we were told that we can still expect to see Red flag waving and hammer-and-sickle logos throughout the streets. It's hard to believe that there are still so many supporters of Communism out there, and it should be a very interesting sight.


EXPERIENCES, TRAUMATIC AND HEARTBREAKING

The reality of Russian culture has hit the females in our group most of all. The truth is that in Russia, women are highly demeaned, and throughout history, have always been seen as inferior to men. While it can sometimes make their experience more comfortable on the surface (men are expected to move furniture, open doors, and offer their arms for women), the environment can also feel very insecure and unsafe for our girls. Women are very much objectified in this country...feminism hardly exists. It makes sense why so many women are dressed incredibly lavishly from day-to-day; the pressure to be beautiful, to look amazing and pleasing to the male eye, is sky-high. And overall, women are just not treated with equal respect as men. As it turns out, a few of the girls have brushed with some traumatic experiences of sexual harassment, on the subway and in restaurants. A meeting was actually called, for the boys and for the girls of our group separately, to discuss gender relations in Russia. As the males of our group, we decided to be more aware of the surroundings and to help remove the girls from unsafe situations. Now, I'm a little guy, and I'm not going to pick a fight with some enormous Russian brute, but making sure that no girl walks back at night alone, expanding awareness of any threats in our surroundings, keeping an eye out and holding out an arm...all of these things can make the experience better for our girls. And as an ensemble, a sort of family, we must always look out for and help each other.

Three days ago, a tragic event occured within our ensemble. One of the guys in our group, a dear friend of mine - someone I felt I had actually gotten quite close to, called a meeting in our dorm. He announced that he would be leaving us and returning to America. Several months prior, his father had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, and apparently, it was unsure how many days he had left. While our friend had been incredibly strong throughout the semester - he was always so funny and charming, we would never have known about his father if he hadn't told us - he could no longer stay with us. So, the school booked him the first available flight home, and he left this morning. Overall, the atmosphere was and has been incredibly emotional. My mother being a survivor of stage three cancer, I felt a personal connection to the situation. Even after knowing him only about two months, it felt like we had lost one of our family members, and class hasn't been the same without him. The humor, intelligence, warmth, and incredible talent he brought to our group has been sorely missed. However, we know he needed to leave, and I personally know that I will stay in touch with him.

Since we've been in Russia, it's been easy to get lost in the fantasy of it all, but it's these hard smacks of reality that pull us out of our fantasy world and remind us how fragile we are.


KONSTANTIN RAIKIN AND THE THEATRE OF SATIRE

I've had some satisfying theatre experiences, but none quite so thrilling as I've had at the Theatre of Satire (here, called the Satiricon Theatre) in Moscow. Konstantin Raikin, a teacher of third-year students at the Moscow Art Theatre School, son of Russia's most famous comedian (basically the Charlie Chaplin of Russia), and nationally renowned theatre actor/director, is the Artistic Director of the theatre (which his father founded), and stars in most of their productions. In a place where theatre actors can become national celebrities, he is one of Russia's most famous and well-respected actors. I would say he is something like the Dustin Hoffman of Russia. Last week, I saw him star in Shakespeare's RICHARD III at his Satiricon. It turned out to be one of the most inspiring and fulfilling experiences I've ever had in a theatre. The unity of his body, voice, and spirit was breathtaking. He was able to make the audience break into fits of laughter and tears almost simultaneously. His contorted facial expressions, his graceful and exact movement as the hunchbacked monarch (he looked like he had been living with the deformity all his life, as opposed to just an actor playing a hunchback), his erratic and surprising behavior; all of the elements of his performance were so moving, and I watched the entire 3-hour production with a gaping jaw. The direction was so crisp, somewhat abstract, completely understandable, and dead on. The visuals were simple, but at the same time so beautiful and effective. The entire ensemble of actors, anchored by Raikin, was so well-connected and versatile. The same actors who played Richard's young child nephews who he murders, also portrayed the assassins he hires. The atmosphere was so heightened and the emotions so clear and heavy. I can see why some Russian students told me they've seen it five times. I'm actually going to see it again tomorrow.

It's amazing to me that the best Shakespeare production I've seen has been in Russian! The language was not a barrier whatsoever. Shakespeare being one of the world's greatest poets, when his work is performed in English, so much importance is placed on the language. I've seen many Shakespeare productions in America get lost within the heightened language, the story and relationships of characters thrown out the window. Here, so much focus is placed on the acting as opposed to the poetry and lyricism of the words. The words were spoken as vernacular. It's also interesting to see how Russian directors interpret Shakespeare. Having seen a good deal of Shakespeare in America, seeing it performed here really highlighted some cultural differences. For instance, a few days ago, I saw a production of MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, one of Shakespeare's most loved light comedies, set in a dark, terrifying, neo-Fascist world. The good characters, the heroes of the play, were actually frightening and villainous, dressed in black soldiers' uniforms and toting guns maniacally. The Watch, the comical but "moral" policemen in the play, were frightening and sadistic, and tortured their prisoners. And the end of the play, which usually ends in a happy wedding and the singing of "Hey Nonny Nonny" took a hugely dark turn when, after the lovers wed, the soldiers returned to war and were presumably killed. This kind of production is the result of a very specific culture, and one could not find such an interpretation in the States.

But back to Satiricon and to Raikin. Those kinds of theatre experiences remind me why I decided to be an actor. The play is not just entertainment, it's a work of art on the stage. And Raikin is the kind of actor I aspire to be, fully engaged and unbelievably versatile. Since his theatre runs in repertory, he jumps from role-to-role constantly. Before I left for St. Petersburg, I saw him in a play called COSMETICS OF THE ENEMY, a contemporary play adapted from a French novel, in an entirely different role than Richard III. His performance blew me away. The play only had two actors in it, and I had only a vague idea of the plot, but not once was I bored. Rather, I was highly inspired. Next week, I will see him as the title role in KING LEAR. He is easily among the greatest actors I have ever seen, and it is such an honor and a privelige to witness him perform. Not only that, but Dr. Smeliansky has promised us that Raikin will give us a lecture before we leave.

Seeing this spiritual level of performance, I am believing more and more that, like music, the language of theatre is universal.


CLASSES AND ASSIGNMENTS

We are halfway through the semester now, and classes are racing at full pace. Acting class is always the most difficult, because it can be so illuminating and so frustrating at the same time. Through the etudes and exercises we have been working on, I am discovering so much, but it's so hard organize everything and put it into practice. Every day, I feel like I have new epiphanies. Recently, I discovered the power of focus, and how concentrating my focus and attention is one of my biggest issues as an actor. I tend to get very nervous in front of audiences, especially my teachers and peers, and my teachers explained that all the energy of my focus has to be director towards my scene partner or the task I'm performing. We worked on an assignment where we had to pantomime a physical action with our hands in exact detail, and focus so much on our task that our muscle memory takes over. I decided to do a massage, and the night before and the day of, I gave about 6 massages to prepare. When I got up and performed the exercise, I felt that my movements were very exact, I could literally see the person in front of me (even though there was no one actually there), and my focus was centered so strongly on my physical task that the audience automatically disappeared without my noticing. Now, it's just a matter of training that attention and applying it to all of my work. Meanwhile, we are studying the plays from which we will inevitably perform our final scene assignments. The plays are all by the masters of Russian drama: Anton Chekhov, Nikolai Gogol, and Alexander Ostrovsky. In addition to our in-class exercises, we have been performing etudes based on those plays to get a feel for the atmosphere and characters. Next week, we should be receiving our scene assignments.

Our movement and dance classes continue to be incredibly demanding, but I am beginning to see and feel distinct changes in my flexibility, movement ability, and coordination. What I love about those classes is that the results are so tangible. While in acting, it's hard to notice one's improvement in focus, connection with your partner, and belief in circumstances, in movement classes, one day your leg will kick just a little higher, or you can hold a handstand for just a few seconds longer, or your body will stretch just a few inches further. In dance class, we've been starting to work on choreography for our final performance at the end of the semester. Besides our classical ballet work, we've been working on gypsy dances and Russian folk dances. I'll try to get it video-recorded so that those of you at home and at school can have the pleasure of seeing my new-found Russian kicks...I promise you: it's hilarious.

Another interesting component of the curriculum has been our History of Russian Cinematography course. Every week, we discuss and watch films. We started at the silent era in the 1920s, and have since moved on to the talkies of the 1930s, and are just venturing into the 1940s. We've seen classic films by Sergei Eisenstein, Dziga Vertov, Alexander Dovzhenko and others. It's fascinating to see how film history developed alongside political history. During dark times, the films explore horrific themes; when Communism flourishes, propaganda is rampant. I also never knew how much Russian filmmakers affected the world industry. Eisenstein's "Battleship Potemkin" is considered one of the great films of all time, and has inspired countless American films. Some of the images we've seen in the films are very disturbing. As Russia never had animal rights laws in filmmaking, we saw cows getting slaughtered in Eisenstein's "The Strike," a metaphor for the White Army gunning down a group of demonstrating factory workers. And while not real, there were also many portrayals of children being killed, something rarely found in American cinema. This disturbing, but affective imagery is very reflective of the "Russian soul."

You know how as you're growing up, you never notice yourself changing, but one day you look in a mirror, and you are suddenly an adult? That's how I feel now...I can't necessarily see myself changing, yet in the back of my mind, I know it's happening. And I know that once I return to the States, to my comforable home environment, back to school among my usual friends, faculty, and classes, I will bare witness to the vast changes that are occuring even as I write. Until then, I am going with the flow and enjoying the ride.

Please let me know how you're all doing. I wish you all the best, and I hope to hear from you soon!

With love,

Etai Benshlomo