As much as I love seeing theatre all the time, when you go every night sometimes you don’t have the time you need to process and reflect. Luckily, tonight is a night off. So although my brain has become a bit mushy lately with all the plays, here are some reflections:
A Streetcar Named Desire as part of the Golden Mask festival on 4/9: While I found this show ridiculous and therefore funny, it was also pretty atrocious and pissed me off at its pretentious bullshit. Sorry, that’s just how I felt. Joe wrote an amazing blog post about this show that I told him he needs to turn into an article for the e-magazine, so if you want to read a truly witty and insightful piece, you can do so here.
Ulysses on 4/10: Joe and Laura saw this show when Rachel and I saw Troilus and Cressida and they both loved it. Having never read the novel, I spent over 2 hours reading the detailed synopsis and analysis on sparknotes before going to see the 5.5 hour production (which thankfully began early at 5pm). While I had mixed feelings about the first two acts, by the end of the night I was sold. I found myself having flashbacks to my presentation earlier this year on Szondi, questioning whether the form of the production fit the style of the writing. By the end, it definitely did, and they beautifully brought it to life. The set was really interesting, with wire fence like structures that by the last act left the stage and were replaced by a beautiful gate made of many faces of Bloom. Molly’s 40-minute stream of consciousness monologue at the end was incredible. I had no idea what she was saying specifically, only generally. And yet, I was riveted. What a phenomenal actress. Still not sure how I feel about tackling this great work to read as I’m not a huge fan of stream of consciousness writing style, but really glad I was able to see this show.
La Estrada on 4/11: Also part of the Golden Mask (Ulysses was too), this show in a tiny theatre space was really great. We found out what this one-hour show was actually about afterward, but what was evident during the production was that it was a) funny and b) not taking itself too seriously. You can read more about it here.
I think my brain needs more recharging than I thought. So with that in mind…I’m off to finish reading book one of War and Peace. Because nothing says brain recharging like some epic Tolstoy.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
A Week of Play (going)
It was after the particularly bad production of A Month in the Country, part of the Golden Mask, that Tolya made quite the clever and funny observation. As the head of the jury this year, he said they don’t even know what’s been invited to the festival. So it’s like, “They invite you to dinner, and you say, ‘Okay, what are we having?’ and they say, ‘I don’t know, just eat it!!!’”
I feel like this sums up my own theatre experience over the past week fairly well.
But I’m mad at myself for letting myself go without recording my thoughts on productions. So let’s fix this:
Opus 7 on 3/31: Directed by Dimitri Krimov, I had heard a lot of hype both about this show and this director. Luckily, it basically lived up. He works in this “theater of painters” concept he developed; basically, he works with set designers and actors to create shows. Opus 7’s two parts are completely different and have completely different sets. The first half was about the Holocaust; the second was about the Russian composer Shostakovich. Since I can’t really go into detail, I’ll describe my favorite moment. After individually splashing black paint in a row onto the white cardboard wall spanning the length of the space, the actors then took cut-outs and string, making each one look like a Hasidic man. Someone behind each of these seven-men then cut around the tops so the heads could bend back and forth, looking like they were davening as live music played. Suddenly, the light changed and from behind the spaces of cardboard heads a huge gust of cut-up paper confetti came flying out onto the stage and into the audience for a long time (we were on the same level, no real separation other than the line of where we sat and they performed). It was unexpected, powerful, and really brought us into the piece without forcing or overwhelming us.
Another Sleepy Dusty Delta Day on 4/1: Originally we were told this was a Belgian ballet. Haha…oh man. It was a Belgian choreographer’s experimental piece that was NOT GOOD. As Tanya said, she sat down before the show began and figured out everything that was going to happen. A woman read a letter, danced around very repetitively/boringly, went topless and covered herself in ashes, knocked all of the hanging birdcages together (with live birds)…need I go on? I know with all of that it may sound interesting, but it was not. It was very much so a cliché experimental piece and thank goodness I didn’t pay money for a ticket it was only an hour of my life.
A Month in the Country on 4/2: If nothing else, I’m glad that seeing this production forced me to finally read Ivan Turgenev’s play from 1850. Other than one very funny (but also very short compared to the 3.5 hours total) scene, it was a fairly abysmal production. Boring. Little movement. Not the best acting. Stupid design. I’m being very articulate now, I know. But life is too short to dwell on boring, bad theatre, so moving on…
Boris Eifman Ballet’s Onegin on 4/3: Had high expectations and was a tad concerned, but it was AMAZING! Well, to be completely honest the non-Tchaikovsky music choices and some of the design were a bit 80s-tastic-cheesy, but the choreography and dancers were unbelievable. I heard about Eifman from Jenny and Jane, when they were chatting in the kitchen one day while I was there and were gushing about how amazing his work is. His shows were completely sold out for their Moscow run, but I asked Tolya and low and behold, we had tickets 3rd row center! It was wonderful. His company is based in St. Petersburg and was here as part of the Golden Mask Festival, but they tour to the US a lot, so if you like contemporary ballet you should go! The dancers are classically trained, but the choreography is like a blend of modern, contemporary, and ballet. He has a great eye for stage pictures, and unlike a lot of ballet, the arms are involved in really interesting ways.
Carmen Etudes on 4/4: The graduating MXAT class of 2007 put this show on and it’s been in rep at the school’s studio theater ever since. Choreographed by Alla Segalova (who also choreographed Office), it’s really more of a dance show, but very simple: black costumes, minimal set of benches and few props. Really well done, one of the better things I’ve seen here actually.
Woe from Wit on 4/5: Joe and I thought we were seeing Hamlet the comedy opera that night (Hamlet comedy opera, you say? I know). But it turned out we were going to see Woe from Wit, the Russian word-play classic, instead. Apparently about 60% of the script has become a Russian proverb. But sadly, we were unable to find a synopsis in the two hours between learning that we were going and the start of the show. Instead, we were rather confused by the overbearing set, large cast, dance number, French songs, huge rolling ball, and the real car that drove across the stage at the end (which was actually kind of little compared to everything preceding it). No clue what it all meant given our sparse knowledge of the plot/content…but at least it was entertaining to watch.
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg on 4/6: Apparently Shakespeare just wasn’t in the cards for me this week. I was supposed to see Macbeth that night but wound up going to see this stage adaptation of the French film from 1960. The plot is kind of cheesy but easy to follow. The film is entirely sung, with one song that everyone knows (you would recognize it if I could hum over my blog). But apparently the film is really revered for being a visual delight. So it shouldn’t be surprising that the stage production was similar: cheesy, but eye candy. The set design was really cool, I made a crude sketch because I’m not sure I can do it justice. But basically there were two large circles within a proscenium frame, the one in front was an orangey-red and the one behind it was yellow. They had squares and rectangles of varying sizes cut out in them, and the circles would swing back and forth in between scenes, forming new rooms and spaces. Just watching how the set worked and the novelty of how it set up scenes was delightful.
July on 4/7: Another one of the legendary shows talked up to me by former students, July is basically a one-woman show that’s been playing at Praktika for four years and won a bunch of awards. I was a little nervous because I heard the show was really just her talking the whole time, and wasn’t sure how effective that would be for me given my practically nonexistent language skills. But her acting really was incredible: powerful, precise, beautiful to watch. She tells gives the monologue of a man who is basically a Hannibal Lecter type. The rate and rhythm of her voice, her specificity in vocal production and movement, and the simple yet effective design choices in this tiny black box theater all helped me understand that while what she was saying might be horrific, there was a kind of lyricism and poetry to the language too. There was barely anything on the stage, but at one point a row of track lights facing directly down lit up. The woman smoked a cigarette and blew the smoke into the beams of light, creating her own eerie prison cell. It was so beautiful that it took me awhile to break my reverie and write it down in my notebook. After the flash and effects of shows earlier in the week, it was nice to be reminded that sometimes simplicity can have the most stunning effect.
I feel like this sums up my own theatre experience over the past week fairly well.
But I’m mad at myself for letting myself go without recording my thoughts on productions. So let’s fix this:
Opus 7 on 3/31: Directed by Dimitri Krimov, I had heard a lot of hype both about this show and this director. Luckily, it basically lived up. He works in this “theater of painters” concept he developed; basically, he works with set designers and actors to create shows. Opus 7’s two parts are completely different and have completely different sets. The first half was about the Holocaust; the second was about the Russian composer Shostakovich. Since I can’t really go into detail, I’ll describe my favorite moment. After individually splashing black paint in a row onto the white cardboard wall spanning the length of the space, the actors then took cut-outs and string, making each one look like a Hasidic man. Someone behind each of these seven-men then cut around the tops so the heads could bend back and forth, looking like they were davening as live music played. Suddenly, the light changed and from behind the spaces of cardboard heads a huge gust of cut-up paper confetti came flying out onto the stage and into the audience for a long time (we were on the same level, no real separation other than the line of where we sat and they performed). It was unexpected, powerful, and really brought us into the piece without forcing or overwhelming us.
Another Sleepy Dusty Delta Day on 4/1: Originally we were told this was a Belgian ballet. Haha…oh man. It was a Belgian choreographer’s experimental piece that was NOT GOOD. As Tanya said, she sat down before the show began and figured out everything that was going to happen. A woman read a letter, danced around very repetitively/boringly, went topless and covered herself in ashes, knocked all of the hanging birdcages together (with live birds)…need I go on? I know with all of that it may sound interesting, but it was not. It was very much so a cliché experimental piece and thank goodness I didn’t pay money for a ticket it was only an hour of my life.
A Month in the Country on 4/2: If nothing else, I’m glad that seeing this production forced me to finally read Ivan Turgenev’s play from 1850. Other than one very funny (but also very short compared to the 3.5 hours total) scene, it was a fairly abysmal production. Boring. Little movement. Not the best acting. Stupid design. I’m being very articulate now, I know. But life is too short to dwell on boring, bad theatre, so moving on…
Boris Eifman Ballet’s Onegin on 4/3: Had high expectations and was a tad concerned, but it was AMAZING! Well, to be completely honest the non-Tchaikovsky music choices and some of the design were a bit 80s-tastic-cheesy, but the choreography and dancers were unbelievable. I heard about Eifman from Jenny and Jane, when they were chatting in the kitchen one day while I was there and were gushing about how amazing his work is. His shows were completely sold out for their Moscow run, but I asked Tolya and low and behold, we had tickets 3rd row center! It was wonderful. His company is based in St. Petersburg and was here as part of the Golden Mask Festival, but they tour to the US a lot, so if you like contemporary ballet you should go! The dancers are classically trained, but the choreography is like a blend of modern, contemporary, and ballet. He has a great eye for stage pictures, and unlike a lot of ballet, the arms are involved in really interesting ways.
Carmen Etudes on 4/4: The graduating MXAT class of 2007 put this show on and it’s been in rep at the school’s studio theater ever since. Choreographed by Alla Segalova (who also choreographed Office), it’s really more of a dance show, but very simple: black costumes, minimal set of benches and few props. Really well done, one of the better things I’ve seen here actually.
Woe from Wit on 4/5: Joe and I thought we were seeing Hamlet the comedy opera that night (Hamlet comedy opera, you say? I know). But it turned out we were going to see Woe from Wit, the Russian word-play classic, instead. Apparently about 60% of the script has become a Russian proverb. But sadly, we were unable to find a synopsis in the two hours between learning that we were going and the start of the show. Instead, we were rather confused by the overbearing set, large cast, dance number, French songs, huge rolling ball, and the real car that drove across the stage at the end (which was actually kind of little compared to everything preceding it). No clue what it all meant given our sparse knowledge of the plot/content…but at least it was entertaining to watch.
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg on 4/6: Apparently Shakespeare just wasn’t in the cards for me this week. I was supposed to see Macbeth that night but wound up going to see this stage adaptation of the French film from 1960. The plot is kind of cheesy but easy to follow. The film is entirely sung, with one song that everyone knows (you would recognize it if I could hum over my blog). But apparently the film is really revered for being a visual delight. So it shouldn’t be surprising that the stage production was similar: cheesy, but eye candy. The set design was really cool, I made a crude sketch because I’m not sure I can do it justice. But basically there were two large circles within a proscenium frame, the one in front was an orangey-red and the one behind it was yellow. They had squares and rectangles of varying sizes cut out in them, and the circles would swing back and forth in between scenes, forming new rooms and spaces. Just watching how the set worked and the novelty of how it set up scenes was delightful.
July on 4/7: Another one of the legendary shows talked up to me by former students, July is basically a one-woman show that’s been playing at Praktika for four years and won a bunch of awards. I was a little nervous because I heard the show was really just her talking the whole time, and wasn’t sure how effective that would be for me given my practically nonexistent language skills. But her acting really was incredible: powerful, precise, beautiful to watch. She tells gives the monologue of a man who is basically a Hannibal Lecter type. The rate and rhythm of her voice, her specificity in vocal production and movement, and the simple yet effective design choices in this tiny black box theater all helped me understand that while what she was saying might be horrific, there was a kind of lyricism and poetry to the language too. There was barely anything on the stage, but at one point a row of track lights facing directly down lit up. The woman smoked a cigarette and blew the smoke into the beams of light, creating her own eerie prison cell. It was so beautiful that it took me awhile to break my reverie and write it down in my notebook. After the flash and effects of shows earlier in the week, it was nice to be reminded that sometimes simplicity can have the most stunning effect.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Power of Low to No: Food
I had a mini-internal-freak-out moment about two weeks before leaving for Moscow. In Russian class, we were going over the menu of MXAT’s cafeteria. Not only could I not remember or figure out 95% of the items listed, but it also hit me: what was I going to eat in Russia???
For some reason the menu we went over in class that day seemed particularly unappetizing to me. Cottage cheese? Kasha? Beets? Liver? TONGUE??? I’m somewhat adventurous in cuisine, but some of the items sounded gross. It didn’t help that all of a sudden the “salads” came back to me. Having spent two wonderful New Year’s celebrations with my Russian friend Anya’s family, I remember not being a huge fan of the Russian version of a salad. It usually involves a lot of beets, sour cream, or mayonnaise. Ble…I mean yum…
Needless to say, I had the lowest of the low in expectations when it came to my food situation here in Russia. I tried to stay positive (“I hear the yogurt’s good…I like yogurt…”), and I knew that eventually I was destined to find some things I enjoyed. But I fully expected to spend at least the first two weeks trying a lot of things that made me want to throw up a little.
But the Power of Low to No was on my side. Was I ever wrong. It’s a good thing I’m walking a lot here and have 5 flights of stairs to climb every day.
We’ll start with MXAT’s cafeteria, the stelovia. While it’s true that every time I still have a mini anxiety attack as I approach the line, this is only because I still cannot decipher what everything means on the menu. However, I do know the words for “chicken,” “rice,” and “vegetables.” But the great thing about the stelovia is that what you don’t serve yourself, you can still see. So I just very nicely ask and point for the woman behind the counter. I have rarely been let down, and the food is CHEAP. I can eat a hearty meal there at lunch or dinner for $4 to $6.
I was told that Moscow restaurants are uber expensive and was concerned (aka had low expectations) about eating out for lunch. We often can’t make the half hour trek back to the dorm for a meal in the kitchen, but many Moscow restaurants have this wonderful thing called business lunch (spelled phonetically in Cyrillic, it actually sounds more like “beezneez lanch”). It varies from place to place, but usually for under $10 you get a soup, a salad (the real kind!), some sort of main course like chicken or fish with a side, and a drink. There are several great business lunches near school, and more places I hope to try. I don’t think you can eat that well for that little at a sit down place in Harvard Square.
In our first or second week here Brendan took us to this place he and 2nd year classmate Paul went to practically every day last year, called Kruzhka (zh=soft j). They liked it for it’s cheap but good food and beer, but from the way they talked about it we had very low expectations. They described it as a hole in the wall, and from further descriptions I was fully prepared to enter a grimy, underground, extremely sketchy place the size of my dorm room. But Kruzhka is more like a cross between the atmosphere of Grendel’s Den with the sprawling size of John Harvard’s (maybe bigger) in Cambridge. It’s smoky (sometimes ridiculously so), but I like it.
I’ve also been surprised to find how much of the Russian food I like. Kasha (buckwheat) is actually quite delicious, as is borscht. They have blinis (crepes) stuffed with a variety of yummy things (savory or sweet, I’m a fan of cheese and mushroom or sweet cheese and apricot), and a mini fast-food type blini place is right near school called Teremok. It’s kind of dangerous having it so close by.
There’s a new grocery story really close to the dorm that has an amazing prepared foods section. We all love Bakhetle so much that we probably go there too often. From gin and tonic in a can for $1.50 (which is really more like 2 g&ts in a can) to their array of potato pancakes and peroshki (bread filled with some sort of savory goodness), it’s heaven. They also have cirniki, an amazing little round cheese and flour concoction that I don’t think I can do justice here. And sometimes they have hachapuri, Georgian cheesy bread.
Now that you’re all hungry, I have saved Georgian food for last. Oh my goodness. How do they cram so much culinary delight into one cuisine? If you ever have a chance, go to a Georgian restaurant. They have this green bean (beans like kidney beans, not like string beans) mixture called lobio that’s amazing, and there’s a red one too that’s served hot. They have shashlik (shish kebabs) and cook other meats together with herbs and spices and I’m salivating at the thought.
Despite all these gastronomic delights, sometimes nothing beats a good salad. Which I think I’ll go make right now.
For some reason the menu we went over in class that day seemed particularly unappetizing to me. Cottage cheese? Kasha? Beets? Liver? TONGUE??? I’m somewhat adventurous in cuisine, but some of the items sounded gross. It didn’t help that all of a sudden the “salads” came back to me. Having spent two wonderful New Year’s celebrations with my Russian friend Anya’s family, I remember not being a huge fan of the Russian version of a salad. It usually involves a lot of beets, sour cream, or mayonnaise. Ble…I mean yum…
Needless to say, I had the lowest of the low in expectations when it came to my food situation here in Russia. I tried to stay positive (“I hear the yogurt’s good…I like yogurt…”), and I knew that eventually I was destined to find some things I enjoyed. But I fully expected to spend at least the first two weeks trying a lot of things that made me want to throw up a little.
But the Power of Low to No was on my side. Was I ever wrong. It’s a good thing I’m walking a lot here and have 5 flights of stairs to climb every day.
We’ll start with MXAT’s cafeteria, the stelovia. While it’s true that every time I still have a mini anxiety attack as I approach the line, this is only because I still cannot decipher what everything means on the menu. However, I do know the words for “chicken,” “rice,” and “vegetables.” But the great thing about the stelovia is that what you don’t serve yourself, you can still see. So I just very nicely ask and point for the woman behind the counter. I have rarely been let down, and the food is CHEAP. I can eat a hearty meal there at lunch or dinner for $4 to $6.
I was told that Moscow restaurants are uber expensive and was concerned (aka had low expectations) about eating out for lunch. We often can’t make the half hour trek back to the dorm for a meal in the kitchen, but many Moscow restaurants have this wonderful thing called business lunch (spelled phonetically in Cyrillic, it actually sounds more like “beezneez lanch”). It varies from place to place, but usually for under $10 you get a soup, a salad (the real kind!), some sort of main course like chicken or fish with a side, and a drink. There are several great business lunches near school, and more places I hope to try. I don’t think you can eat that well for that little at a sit down place in Harvard Square.
In our first or second week here Brendan took us to this place he and 2nd year classmate Paul went to practically every day last year, called Kruzhka (zh=soft j). They liked it for it’s cheap but good food and beer, but from the way they talked about it we had very low expectations. They described it as a hole in the wall, and from further descriptions I was fully prepared to enter a grimy, underground, extremely sketchy place the size of my dorm room. But Kruzhka is more like a cross between the atmosphere of Grendel’s Den with the sprawling size of John Harvard’s (maybe bigger) in Cambridge. It’s smoky (sometimes ridiculously so), but I like it.
I’ve also been surprised to find how much of the Russian food I like. Kasha (buckwheat) is actually quite delicious, as is borscht. They have blinis (crepes) stuffed with a variety of yummy things (savory or sweet, I’m a fan of cheese and mushroom or sweet cheese and apricot), and a mini fast-food type blini place is right near school called Teremok. It’s kind of dangerous having it so close by.
There’s a new grocery story really close to the dorm that has an amazing prepared foods section. We all love Bakhetle so much that we probably go there too often. From gin and tonic in a can for $1.50 (which is really more like 2 g&ts in a can) to their array of potato pancakes and peroshki (bread filled with some sort of savory goodness), it’s heaven. They also have cirniki, an amazing little round cheese and flour concoction that I don’t think I can do justice here. And sometimes they have hachapuri, Georgian cheesy bread.
Now that you’re all hungry, I have saved Georgian food for last. Oh my goodness. How do they cram so much culinary delight into one cuisine? If you ever have a chance, go to a Georgian restaurant. They have this green bean (beans like kidney beans, not like string beans) mixture called lobio that’s amazing, and there’s a red one too that’s served hot. They have shashlik (shish kebabs) and cook other meats together with herbs and spices and I’m salivating at the thought.
Despite all these gastronomic delights, sometimes nothing beats a good salad. Which I think I’ll go make right now.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Exciting news!
I am much overdue for a proper post, but it's been especially busy for me here in Moscow over the past week. However, this morning I got some very happy news...I've been accepted into this summer's Cornerstone Institute! From July 1st to August 1st I'll be living and working on a community-based theatre project in Pacoima, Los Angeles. If you don't know much about Cornerstone or the Institute, check out their website. I'm so incredibly excited for this opportunity and to learn more about community based theatre! I get back from my travels on June 29th to Boston, and will need to leave July 1st, so it will be some pretty quick turnaround, but I don't care!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Business As Usual
In her email yesterday to the 23 A.R.T. students here, our wonderful program coordinator Tanya gave us some updates about the metro. She ended it with, “Be calm, don't panic. Business as usual. Love, T.”
We all live in a day and age when terrorist attacks could occur anywhere at any time. But there are definitely a few cities where they are more likely to occur. Despite my vague knowledge of past attacks in Moscow, I really had no worries at all when I arrived, or for my past month here. But being in a city when it’s been attacked is very different from learning about it elsewhere. In fact, the strangest part of this event has been the difference between the reactions of those here in Moscow and those back home. Business as usual versus fear and anxiety.
I have not noticed a huge difference in the atmosphere here since the attack. Individual encounters are marked with a slight change, each one illuminating a bit more of Russian life in Moscow. When Tolya spoke to us in class that day, he spoke with a grave and regretful tone on how unfortunate and yet somewhat common these events were today. Our professor Igor related similar sentiments: it’s terrible and awful, but we’re used to it. Nastia, who is younger than these two, sat in the office that day looking sad and despondent. Giving her a hug, she told me that it’s not just about how you could have known someone in the attack. This is the first time in six years Moscow has been hit badly (not counting the train to St. Petersburg), and Russians had let go of some of this anxiety. It was sad that the gypsy cab drivers here jacked up their prices in the wake of a crisis. More worrisome, apparently some men had attacked two Muslim girls wearing headscarves.
Of course this and other parallels made me think of 9/11. I remember how the country seemed to grind to a halt that day. I remember coming home from school and sitting glued to the television in horror. But here in Moscow, the only major (and it was actually minor) change in my day was walking instead of riding the metro. I went to class. I read at a café. I watched the beautiful and breathtaking ballet of The Seagull at the Stanislavsky Music Theatre. The only difference was how much emptier the house was because people couldn’t make it. Otherwise, business as usual.
But I suspect that’s only on the surface. I keep thinking about how awful it is that we live in a time where we have come to regard these sorts of events as inevitable. That we’ve accepted that humans can reach so low a point that they not only want to blow themselves up, but they also want to blow up total strangers for a pointless point.
But then again, maybe we haven’t really accepted these events as inevitable. As Igor said when we remarked that so little seemed changed with people on the streets: they may seem fine, but inside they are not.
We all live in a day and age when terrorist attacks could occur anywhere at any time. But there are definitely a few cities where they are more likely to occur. Despite my vague knowledge of past attacks in Moscow, I really had no worries at all when I arrived, or for my past month here. But being in a city when it’s been attacked is very different from learning about it elsewhere. In fact, the strangest part of this event has been the difference between the reactions of those here in Moscow and those back home. Business as usual versus fear and anxiety.
I have not noticed a huge difference in the atmosphere here since the attack. Individual encounters are marked with a slight change, each one illuminating a bit more of Russian life in Moscow. When Tolya spoke to us in class that day, he spoke with a grave and regretful tone on how unfortunate and yet somewhat common these events were today. Our professor Igor related similar sentiments: it’s terrible and awful, but we’re used to it. Nastia, who is younger than these two, sat in the office that day looking sad and despondent. Giving her a hug, she told me that it’s not just about how you could have known someone in the attack. This is the first time in six years Moscow has been hit badly (not counting the train to St. Petersburg), and Russians had let go of some of this anxiety. It was sad that the gypsy cab drivers here jacked up their prices in the wake of a crisis. More worrisome, apparently some men had attacked two Muslim girls wearing headscarves.
Of course this and other parallels made me think of 9/11. I remember how the country seemed to grind to a halt that day. I remember coming home from school and sitting glued to the television in horror. But here in Moscow, the only major (and it was actually minor) change in my day was walking instead of riding the metro. I went to class. I read at a café. I watched the beautiful and breathtaking ballet of The Seagull at the Stanislavsky Music Theatre. The only difference was how much emptier the house was because people couldn’t make it. Otherwise, business as usual.
But I suspect that’s only on the surface. I keep thinking about how awful it is that we live in a time where we have come to regard these sorts of events as inevitable. That we’ve accepted that humans can reach so low a point that they not only want to blow themselves up, but they also want to blow up total strangers for a pointless point.
But then again, maybe we haven’t really accepted these events as inevitable. As Igor said when we remarked that so little seemed changed with people on the streets: they may seem fine, but inside they are not.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Rude Awakening
This is a post mainly to assure everyone that I am alive and was not on the metro this morning. http://www.themoscowtimes.com/news/article/breaking-news-2-explosions-hit-moscow-metro/402714.html
If you know me, you know that I'm not a morning person. So not only would it be highly unlikely for me to be riding the metro before 9 a.m. (which was when the two explosions occurred, at 7:50 and around 8:20), but learning about them was how I woke up just a few moments ago. It's all a bit bizarre since I learned about it because my good friend's ex-girlfriend sent me a facebook message asking if I was okay since she remembered I was in Moscow. Another strange way to wake up. I'm a little stunned at the moment. The Moscow metro is not only amazingly efficient, it's also beautiful. The stations are gorgeous. But it's also insanely crowded during rush hour. I haven't been on during the morning rush, but there have been a couple evening times that made me decide never to ride during rush hour again if I can avoid it. And no worries parentals: I don't intend to ride the metro today.
If you know me, you know that I'm not a morning person. So not only would it be highly unlikely for me to be riding the metro before 9 a.m. (which was when the two explosions occurred, at 7:50 and around 8:20), but learning about them was how I woke up just a few moments ago. It's all a bit bizarre since I learned about it because my good friend's ex-girlfriend sent me a facebook message asking if I was okay since she remembered I was in Moscow. Another strange way to wake up. I'm a little stunned at the moment. The Moscow metro is not only amazingly efficient, it's also beautiful. The stations are gorgeous. But it's also insanely crowded during rush hour. I haven't been on during the morning rush, but there have been a couple evening times that made me decide never to ride during rush hour again if I can avoid it. And no worries parentals: I don't intend to ride the metro today.
Playing Play Catch-Up
I’ve fallen behind. I really wanted to write about every show I saw on this blog. But tonight I realized that maybe it would be better to just write about the ones that left a strong impression? Since writing about Vassa Zheleznova, I’ve seen: Office at the Pushkin Theatre (really enjoyed it), Mark Morris Dance Company’s Dido and Aeneas, Ivanov and The Cherry Orchard at MXAT, and Troilus and Cressida at the Vakhtangov. But it wasn’t until tonight that I really felt inspired.
I think from the moment I sat down in The Best Seat Ever I knew it was going to be a good night. No joke, there were a few tears of joy in my eyes. Smack dab in the center of row 7, with nothing but an aisle splitting the rows in half in front of me. NO TALL PEOPLE BLOCKING MY VIEW?!?! Amazing. Even though we all know I’ve perfected the art of putting up with sub-par seating by now, I still appreciate a good view. Okay, enough about my seat. Clearly this was a bigger deal to me than it would be to anyone else.
This may be the first production I’ve seen here where my mind drifted zero times. Not only did I have no problem following the story, for the majority of the production I also appreciated the moment-to-moment…almost as if I knew exactly what they were saying (and since it was Shakespeare, sometimes I think I came close to figuring it out). There was just so much going on in this production that I loved or found intriguing, so excuse me for a little spewing here.
Overall, I admired this production for how it revealed both the pointlessness and stupidity of the Trojan War. I really hated the character Paris; not because he was evil, but because he was like a spoiled little boy who couldn’t see how selfish, trivial, and horrible his actions were for others. In this production, Cressida became a spoil of war in the sense that war spoiled her. She began as a girl, practically a child. She wore a long and clumsy dress with socks and bounded around the stage exuberantly with a mess of frizzy hair. After a very funny scene between her and Troilus where they showed just how middle school they were in their courtship, they go into a makeshift den to get it on. When Cressida emerges, her hair has calmed down and her dress is still white and long, but sleeveless and flowing. After she’s been told they’re forcing her to the Greek side, she changes into a much more feminine lavender dress, with her hair tied back in a sleek bun. In the scene with the Greek warriors where she kisses all of them, she teetered around on pointe shoes. This interpretation showed a Cressida who did what the men asked of her and in the end, became a kind of martyr. There’s honestly a lot more to discuss…but it’s time for bed.
I think from the moment I sat down in The Best Seat Ever I knew it was going to be a good night. No joke, there were a few tears of joy in my eyes. Smack dab in the center of row 7, with nothing but an aisle splitting the rows in half in front of me. NO TALL PEOPLE BLOCKING MY VIEW?!?! Amazing. Even though we all know I’ve perfected the art of putting up with sub-par seating by now, I still appreciate a good view. Okay, enough about my seat. Clearly this was a bigger deal to me than it would be to anyone else.
This may be the first production I’ve seen here where my mind drifted zero times. Not only did I have no problem following the story, for the majority of the production I also appreciated the moment-to-moment…almost as if I knew exactly what they were saying (and since it was Shakespeare, sometimes I think I came close to figuring it out). There was just so much going on in this production that I loved or found intriguing, so excuse me for a little spewing here.
Overall, I admired this production for how it revealed both the pointlessness and stupidity of the Trojan War. I really hated the character Paris; not because he was evil, but because he was like a spoiled little boy who couldn’t see how selfish, trivial, and horrible his actions were for others. In this production, Cressida became a spoil of war in the sense that war spoiled her. She began as a girl, practically a child. She wore a long and clumsy dress with socks and bounded around the stage exuberantly with a mess of frizzy hair. After a very funny scene between her and Troilus where they showed just how middle school they were in their courtship, they go into a makeshift den to get it on. When Cressida emerges, her hair has calmed down and her dress is still white and long, but sleeveless and flowing. After she’s been told they’re forcing her to the Greek side, she changes into a much more feminine lavender dress, with her hair tied back in a sleek bun. In the scene with the Greek warriors where she kisses all of them, she teetered around on pointe shoes. This interpretation showed a Cressida who did what the men asked of her and in the end, became a kind of martyr. There’s honestly a lot more to discuss…but it’s time for bed.
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