Translated material
The Reds defeated the Whites
Chekhov Theater Festival warmed Muscovites with demonic fire
Tverskaya Street was closed to cars from Pushkinskaya Square to the Kremlin. Curious pedestrians were stopped by police cordons in front of the Moscow City Council - they were only allowed through further with tickets. Everyone came to Tverskaya Square, where the opening and street performance were planned, in jackets and coats - it suddenly got colder in Moscow, but no one wanted to give up the entertainment. On the podium, which was set up at the very foot of the Moscow City Council, the Minister of Culture of Russia Mikhail Shvydkoy, the Social Minister of Moscow Lyudmila Shvetsova, the president of the festival Kirill Lavrov, the president of the general sponsor - the LG company - were trembling. The heat-loving Frenchman Bartabas was wrapped in a pink scarf. The general director of the festival, Valery Shadrin (who costly got permission to block Tverskaya and allow the demonic fire show to take place in front of the Moscow City Council, with devils jumping right out of his yard) looked like a boxer before a fight.But it was fun in the square: a stage was built under Dolgoruky’s outstretched hand, everyone was buzzing, pushing, fighting with bright inflatable batons, which were distributed by sponsors, and were waiting for the play “Demons”.
We have never seen the Spanish street theater “Comedians”, although it is very famous in the world. The Comedians took to the streets in 1971, riding the same wave of revival of theater for the people that was launched around the world by left-wing intellectuals back in the sixties. Among the theaters closest to them, the Spaniards name the American Brad and Puppet and the French Théâtre du Soleil by Mnouchchkin. Like many theaters of this type, the Comedians lived as a commune for a very long time, created performances together, without a director, and used any genres in their performances: from commedia dell'arte and circus to clownery and puppets. They set out to revive Catalan culture, which had been banned during Franco's time when they started. Back then, after performances, actors were often taken to the police. Now the Comedians no longer live in a commune, the royal family of Spain appreciates them, and the show is invited to the openings and closings of the most prestigious events around the world. And having met them on the central square of Moscow, you can already allow yourself not to know anything about the solid history of this famous troupe (the play “Demons” is already 20 years old.) Not to think about what myths and rituals they use. And not to notice the symbols that they themselves love to decipher in stories about performances. Just enjoy the holiday.
They dissuaded the speeches, and suddenly people in huge toothy masks jumped out of the Mossovet courtyard, ran into the crowd, screaming, shooting firecrackers and dragging metal towers on wheels behind them. We climbed up somewhere on the side of the square and started spraying fire on everyone. The people, gasping, rushed towards them, and red creatures with tails, teeth and horns jumped onto the stage from everywhere, and some danced, and some sat down at the drums, and the square trembled from the thunderous rhythm. Tall fireworks began to sound behind Dolgoruky, lights rained down from the roofs of buildings: comedians sat high above the sign “Bank of Moscow”. Someone with a torch in his hand rode along a rope stretched between the houses and hovered over Dolgoruky’s helmet. The demons crashed into the crowd with cheerful growls, fireworks spinning above each head, scattering sparks all around. Girls scream, boys throw themselves at the demons' feet, children hit them with inflatable batons, the whole crowd begins to jump to the rhythm of the drums. And the drummers suddenly leave their place and, without ceasing to rumble, walk along Tverskaya towards Red Square. And the dancing crowd moves after them. In front of those guests from the high stands who did not dare to move, the square was empty.
There are also towers placed along the road, on which the demons, having placed fireworks in the right places, pour fire on the crowd with unambiguous movements. In the middle of the people, here and there, someone with teeth appears with fire, everything explodes, flies and sparkles - people rush in all directions. Cheerful devils are fooling around, showing their tongues, and whistling shrilly on whistles. On the side of the road, gathered in a group, young policemen giggle shyly. Suddenly one, infected with general delight and permissiveness, how he whistles! Demon!
It got dark, and it seemed as if the air itself was scattering sparks all around - a lot of firecrackers hung on a rope above their heads caught fire. A young crowd moves towards the Moscow Art Theater. There is a police blockade there again: you can’t go to Red Square, but another small stage has been built near Kamergersky. The drums are crackling, and a funny dragon on four human legs falls onto the stage. From the nostrils - fire and smoke. The demons jumped and danced on the stage, the crowd stopped. There are many familiar faces around. There is Sergei Zhenovach, surrounded by students. In front of the scene where demons are jumping, fashionable director Kirill Serebrennikov is jumping and screaming, Oksana Mysina is beating the rhythm with inflatable batons, Kirill Lavrov is laughing. The dragon, having danced on stage, moved back to the Moscow City Council, dancing and from time to time spewing out a sheaf of sparks from its mouth at the people.
There, in the stands, guests are waiting for the continuation of the holiday, it seems to them that an enthusiastic crowd went to capture Red Square and succeeded. People in white are jumping on stage and waving white flags. The music is thundering, the whites (as we were explained, symbolizing order) are defeated by the reds (symbolizing passion). Then everyone dances together again in front of the screaming crowd, takes off their masks, laughs, waves their arms, and sends kisses to the frantic spectators. The performance is over.
The happy crowd disperses slowly and reluctantly, continuing to beat out the rhythm with pink batons. Burnt firecrackers and firecrackers remain underfoot. A squad of cleaners in red overalls with brooms and garbage troughs comes out to meet the dispersed spectators on the empty Tverskaya Street. They look no worse than demons: it seems that they are about to scream, jump and light fires. The Chekhov Festival is open.