©  Larisa Gerasimchuk

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This production investigates the phenomenon of the genesis of Fear, which can be born out of a chance word or uncertain hand gesture. The play’s protagonists are nursing their Fear, “feeding” it to make it bigger. From the Fear and the Shame, which blinds them suddenly, the protagonists rush into the most shameful and fearful things. They are in horror of getting dirty — and out of this horror they are submerged to the very depths of the swamp. But after reaching the bog floor, they push off and swim up. They are running away, hand in hand with their Shame — off, somewhere, to be saved.<-->“Sleep! God does not sleep for you!” – Vasily Zhukovsky.


This play investigates the phenomenon of the birth of Fear, how it arises from a stray word, an unspecified gesture of the hand – “he walked along, gestured with his hand like this, and didn’t say a thing.” Characters nurse their fears, developing and “feeding” them. They are capable of committing the most shameful and terrible acts because of Fear and Shame, which have the ability to suddenly blind one's eyes. Driven by the panic of being disgraced – they will dive to the bottoms of rotting, fetid swamps. Purifying their heads and homes to a cold, orphan-like vacuity, they will squint their eyes and dive into the deepest, darkest absurd – into the stagnant waters of sycophancy. But after they reach the bottom, they will push off and rise up again. They will dissolve in a frosty fog. They and their Shame, hand in hand, will escape – by rail, by steamship, on foot, any way they can go, they’ll head for their own deepest, inner Mongolia, in some Godforsaken village, at the end of the world. These “bottom-dwelling fish” are small and insignificant enough to slip through holes in old fishing nets. “I’m afraid to die and I don’t want to die; I’ll be a wood-boring bug in the back leg of a chair, in the furthest room, so that these waves will pass me by,” wrote Dmitry Ozyorsky. This production features many of Ozyorsky’s lyrics set to music by Leonid Fyodorov of the band Auktsyon. These texts written in the late 20th/early 21st century are consonant with the Russian literary underground of the 1920s and the atmosphere of Saltykov-Shchedrin’s work. “I’m afraid to die and I don’t want to die; but I don’t mind repainting my skin in order to fit in.”

This is a surprising premiere at the Fomenko Workshop. Artistic Director Evgeny Kamenkovich, who traditionally bet on thick classical volumes and the search for the answers to eternal questions (just think about his Ulysses or Nabokov’s The Gift), had suddenly presented the audience with the latest news commentary. This production is fully devoid of prettiness and any lyricism, but it’s full of contemporary references and caustic language. This is the most unromantic production we’ve seen here yet.

Natalya Vitvitskaya, Vash dosug

Opening night: February 19, 2015

Running time: 3 hours 10 minutes with one intermission