Boy with wooden sword

The “School of Dramatic Art” showed “Coriolanus” directed by Igor Yatsko

For a long time now, Anatoly Vasiliev, offended that the city took away one of the stages from him, went abroad, from where, like Kurbsky, he sends angry letters, but since then his orphaned troupe has not had a premiere. Today's "Coriolanus", staged by one of Vasiliev's most devoted actors, students and unofficial director of the theater Igor Yatsko, is the first "post-departure" premiere of the "School of Dramatic Art", and, as they say (although this is not indicated anywhere), the director dedicated it to Vasiliev. Many see the meaning of this dedication in how the fate of the famous director echoes the fate of the Roman commander, first elevated by military glory, and then humiliated and expelled by a crowd inflamed by narrow-minded intriguers. They said that Vasiliev, who watched from afar what was happening in his theater, immediately approved the choice of the play. They recalled that the master himself analyzed Shakespearean texts a lot with his students. But, in essence, you may not know about all this - and without all the dedications, approvals and analyzes, Yatsko’s “Coriolanus” is, by all formal features, a Vasilievsky performance, “too Vasilievsky”.

The special manner of speech developed at the School of Dramatic Art does not allow us to forget about the master here - bubbling speech, intensely pushing out every word and making it stressed. And an abundance of plastic scenes, where strange body movements, reminiscent of modern dance, wedge themselves into the action and accompany it (Vasiliev has recently shown a clear interest in contemporary dance). And the attraction to ancient ethnic motifs in design and costumes, which are mixed with postmodern daring with tailcoats, coats, surgical gowns and video projections of social events and movie theaters. “Vasilievskoe” is presented to the audience in full, even with overkill, when in a three-act five-hour action the director not only does not shorten Shakespeare’s huge play, but even seems to deliberately stretch it out, furnishing passing scenes with plastic and video exercises. But, perhaps, this is not the main thing in this performance.

"Coriolanus" is performed on the Globe stage - an octagonal platform bordered by three tiers of balconies, which is reminiscent of the structure of Shakespeare's Globe Theater. Here the stage board can go deep down, and the audience looks at the action as if it were happening in a pit, the actors move across all floors, and Coriolanus takes off, grasping the rope with his hand, right under the glass dome, and goes down, jumping onto the balconies of different tiers. But despite the fact that there is movement and noise on stage all the time - the actors fly, run, walk on buskins and stilts, writhe in the smoke, shout, beat tambourines and blow bagpipes - the performance seems somehow surprisingly concentrated and even static. And the main thing here is not the action at all, but the thought unfolding in the dialogues. The thought is clear, full of energy and passion. And this unexpectedly makes Coriolanus similar to old Vasilyev productions like Plato’s Symposium, in which Yatsko himself was so good.

The play talks about the uncompromising and pure Roman commander Caius Marcius, who was named Coriolanus for his victory in Corioli. This commander is played by a very young Ilya Kozin - a strong, fair-haired boy with a clear and direct look, standing firmly and confidently on his legs apart. Short hair, white shirt, black trousers, wooden sword in hand - far from the sparkling armor and crowned glory of the Roman hero. In the boy Coriolanus, one can understand his temper and maximalism, impetuosity, youthful arrogance in front of fools, modesty that does not allow him to trade his battle wounds, begging for votes from the plebs, enthusiastic and tender love for his young, intelligent and strong mother. We see his victory and triumph, and when it turns out that obvious feats must be proven with humiliating boasting, bewilderment and shame. We see the primitive demagogic tricks of the tribunes, pitting the fickle and stupid people against Coriolanus (it’s not for nothing that only girls portray the people). And the senselessness of the reasons that intellectuals put forward in defense of the hero. The expulsion of Coriolanus and his blind desire for revenge. Then he united with his former worst enemy Aufidius in a bloody campaign against Rome. A meeting with his mother and wife under the walls of Rome and a retreat under the influence of his mother’s requests, which Maria Zaikova plays not as a humiliated plea, but as a furious argument. Envy and betrayal of Aufidius. Death.

Jaczko chose Hosea Soroka's little-known translation, which always transforms even familiar Shakespearean tragedies into powerful modern texts that seem to be read for the first time. And no matter how strained the actors’ voices sound, no matter how they jump and roll on the floor, it turns out that they present the text strictly and clearly, constantly remembering what they are talking about and why - a rare thing in modern theater. And Shakespeare's tragedy turns out to be an intellectual drama - a debate that sounds no less relevant today than in the time of Shakespeare or Coriolanus. “Here is your herd: is it possible to allow them to participate in the elections? They just gave a voice and then immediately came back.” - “As an enemy of the people and homeland, he was expelled.” - “No, I drive you away from me.” A dispute about a person and about politics, where we are talking about rigorism and conformism, about honor and mercy, about what it means to be offended by an entire people and take revenge on them. And no matter how sorry we are for the young, pure and straightforward hero, it turns out that these are questions that we still need to think about.

Dina GODER