"Do what you want, but don't lose hope." Interview with Chulpan Khamatova

THIS MATERIAL (INFORMATION) IS PRODUCED AND DISTRIBUTED BY THE BELL'S FOREIGN AGENT OR CONCERNES THE ACTIVITIES OF THE BELL'S FOREIGN AGENT. 18+

THIS MATERIAL (INFORMATION) IS PRODUCED AND DISTRIBUTED BY FOREIGN AGENT ELIZAVETA NIKOLAEVNA OSSETINSKAYA OR CONCERNES THE ACTIVITIES OF FOREIGN AGENT ELIZAVETA NIKOLAEVNA OSSETINSKAYA. 18+

Theater and film actress, People's Artist of Russia and co-founder of the Gift of Life foundation Chulpan Khamatova talked with Elizaveta Osetinskaya about her life, the anniversary of the war, and the death of Alexei Navalny. And also about how Chulpan’s colleagues in Russia actually live now, what “black lists” of artists are, why charity in Russia is devalued, how you can help Evgenia Berkovich and why all Russians need to watch “The Master and Margarita.” The interview was published on the channel “This is Ossetian” back in February, and we are publishing its shortened text version.

“Blacklists” of artists in Russia and the situation with charity

— Many, like me, watched your first interview after moving, which turned out to be very sincere. But time passed, and it is clear that this decision was spontaneous. How do you look at it today?

“Unfortunately, I am even more convinced that it was correct, seeing how my colleagues exist in Russia today. There was no [other] option to fit into this series for various reasons. The first is probably my strange idiotic temperament.

- Why do you scold yourself for your temperament?

— Because now [there are] two possibilities. You either remain silent and play by the rules, or you get an article. In the worst case, you go to prison, like Zhenya Berkovich, in the best, you are deprived of your job, like some of my colleagues who refuse to go to Donbass and support war-related funds.

— There is a lot of talk about the fact that there are lists of artists: who is recommended and who is not. From time to time, artists who tried not to say anything and play by the rules then go to Mariupol and give interviews. Is this a necessity?

- Everyone chooses for themselves. For some it is a necessity. Someone says: “So what, there are no other people’s children. What difference does it make who I help: a child from Donbass or a child from Moscow?” For some people the choice is very difficult. Someone cannot do this because it is blackmail. If they don’t fall for it, their oxygen is cut off. This is a given that all my colleagues live in now.

This is done very quietly, under the cover of the indifferent silence of other colleagues.

— They wouldn’t let you play, despite all the state awards and acquaintances?

- Stay yourself and work? Of course not. Today you can’t act in a movie and be able to at least leave the black square that you posted two years ago, without an apology, a black turtleneck and support for children from Donbass, who are becoming bargaining chips. This is disgusting and humiliating. I'm not even talking about how this affects attitudes towards charity. For decades, we have been carefully gathering dialogue with society, building respect and trust, and proving the need for openness of charitable foundations. Today no one is interested in this at all. What charity concert? In support of the SVO. Sometimes I even read: “participated in a charity concert.” And we tried to explain and prove how important it is for people to know exactly what their money will be used for, what kind of disease it is, why your 3 rubles are important, so that there is feedback all the time. Today it was washed away.

- Why did it wash away? It has turned into a formality, is that the point?

- Party agenda. Everyone should participate in charity.

— Have the volumes of donations in Russia decreased overall?

— I can’t tell you the exact numbers, but, of course, they have decreased. Not critical yet, but they have decreased.

— Do you continue to be the founder of the Gift of Life foundation?

- No. Officially, I have no connection with the Gift of Life foundation, but as a volunteer I continue to do what I have always done. Because the position of co-founder and then founder of the fund was absolutely nominal. Although we always did everything together, they listened to my opinion when necessary. That is, I did not have a veto or even a vote. I have always existed in the foundation as a volunteer. And I continue to do this, refocusing on our sister funds in England (Gift of life) and in America (Podari.Life).

We started in the 2000s after that period in the 90s when charities became laundromats and were taken advantage of by scammers. I had to beat my chest and say, “This is not a charity. We are simply raising money for such equipment.”

Then the law changed. Under the new rules, we could collect money the same way we do at concerts. The money went to the fund of a general hospital, for example, the Children's Clinical Hospital in Moscow. The hospital management could decide for itself what to spend it on. It turned out that we were collecting money, but then there was no way to explain to people that this money was spent on what we declared. Therefore, we were forced to create and register a charitable foundation.

— There was a lot of talk that because of the sanctions it would be more difficult to buy the right medicines and quality equipment. In the end, two years later, what happened?

— Sanctions do not apply to medicines. It’s just that the whole chain of delivery and waiting is longer and more expensive. All this, of course, does not inspire any hope.

This is not an easy path, and it will probably get even more difficult. But we will do it.

— What will happen if it becomes clear that the fund is better off without you than with you, for security reasons?

— I have nothing to do with the Russian “Gift of Life” foundation. Work in the fund was structured in such a way that there were no verticals of power, but only horizontal ones. My absence had no impact in terms of efficiency. Of course, there were people who helped the foundation, but unsubscribed after they heard my decision and learned that [the foundation] was founded by a “traitor to the motherland.” Russian propaganda also did a good job on this.

But, fortunately, there are many smart, deep people left who understand the situation and my decision. Maybe they don’t agree with him, but they understand that the “Give Life” fund is not Chulpan Khamatova, but children who need help.

Work in the Latvian theater

— Emigration is a very painful topic. You're lucky in a way. Because, firstly, you almost immediately found a job at the New Riga Theater. Secondly, you have found your place in this theater. But, speaking in comparison with what you had in Russia, has it become different?

- As it was in Russia and now - two different Chulpans with two different lives. I was prepared for the worst. So I'm pleasantly surprised.

- For the worse... what did you expect?

“I understood that no one was waiting for us here, and if you want your children to have a piece of bread and clothes, you will work as a taxi driver, courier, or whatever. Therefore, the fact that I am now working as an actress and have the opportunity to go on stage is a stroke of luck, or lucky luck. It is impossible to assess what was in Russia and what is now, it is generally impossible to assess.

The fact that Alvis and I [Alvis Hermanis; artistic director of the New Riga Theater. — Approx. The Bell] released two performances before this, of course, played a role. But in the first days, when I came to him to ask for a job, I wanted to do anything: help with students, tell them how to send sound, at least something. Alvis refused me: “No, sorry, there are no places yet.”

Then he began, apparently, to build solutions... He talked with the troupe, with the Minister of Culture. Then he called and made an offer to join the theater troupe. It took about a month and a half.

— I talked to the Minister of Culture, so this is a political decision?

— Of course, this is a political decision. In 2012, I recorded a video [in support of Vladimir Putin during the presidential election campaign. — Approx. The Bell] and by a huge number of people I am perceived as a confidant of the President of the Russian Federation. Then and until now. With which I, apparently, will already die.

“Did you just accept that some people will never forgive you for this?”

- Yes. Explaining that this never happened and what it was connected with is something I have already said 100–200 thousand times. My right to think this way, yours to think differently. All.

— On the issue of non-acceptance. In general, things worked out very well for you. The first play you made with Hermanis, “Postscriptum,” immediately received an award. Who awarded it and how?

— In Latvia there is a ceremony called Spēlmaņu nakts, or “Night of Actors,” like the “Golden Mask” in Russia. First, the audience nominates you, and you get on the longlist. Then you go to the shortlist. As everyone said, the fact that a Russian actress is on the shortlist is already nonsense. The performance is in Russian.

— And it’s about Russia.

— Formally, yes, about Dostoevsky...

— And about [Anna] Politkovskaya, and about Nord-Ost.

- Yes. But globally, of course, it is not only about Russia. Because that would be a very narrow artistic expression. Globally, this is about every person, to be honest.

A scandal began to brew in Latvian society. I didn’t know the Latvian language back then, and it dawned on me indirectly that there were people who were unhappy that I was on this short list. Therefore, when the award ceremony itself took place and I was invited, we in the theater thought that if I didn’t go, it would look...

- Cowardly.

- Yes, both cowardly and disrespectful. We have to go. It's clear that you won't get anything. But one of my colleagues said: “Stop, there is also an audience award. This is not a fact. Therefore, just in case, prepare a speech in Latvian.” My teacher and I prepared a speech in Latvian, but there was no time to teach it. Therefore, I sat throughout the ceremony and was terrified that I would not remember this speech, and that I would also speak incorrectly.

A man comes out and opens the envelope. Audience Award Nomination. My heart starts beating, I start to sweat and try to remember the words. They call another name, and I calm down. They open the second envelope, the same nomination. It turns out that the first was for women, the second for men. In general, again, not my last name. Now I can calmly watch the ceremony.

Suddenly the nomination [“Best Actress”] is announced. — Approx. The Bell], and among the portraits is mine. They open the envelope and announce: “Chulpana Khamatova.” In Latvian I am Chulpana, because a woman’s name cannot but end in “A” or “E”.

I’m sitting there, I don’t understand anything. They start pushing me to the side. Then it’s like a fog. I gave a speech and received a statuette. When I saw the jury members and its chairman, I asked: “Are you suicidal? Why did you do this? You will be razed to the ground.” To which she - Edita - responded with self-esteem: “I don’t play these games. We have a theater competition, and these prizes are given exclusively as professional ones, not political ones. Therefore, let them level it with the ground.” From the jury's point of view, this was a very brave act, because they understood the reaction that my nomination and shortlisting had already caused.

— Was there a wave of hate?

- Yes. On both sides. In Russia they wrote that she received this prize because she spoke out against Russia. Although I have never spoken out against Russia, I have spoken out against the war, which I continue to do. And from the side of the radical Latvian society, because I am Russian and the performance is in Russian. But it [the wave of hate] subsided. I'm a seasoned person.

— How do you protect yourself from hate?

- No way. I ask myself, looking in the mirror: do you understand what this is connected with? Are you ashamed yourself or not? It’s shameful - it means that he [the hate] is justified in some way. Unashamed means he is not justified.

— You reminded me about the Latvian language. You have a special story. Many people live in Latvia and do not learn Latvian, but you immediately decided to learn it, and you have developed a warm relationship with the person who helps you. Tell us about it.

— Yes, my teacher Leena is incredible... In general, she is a philologist. He knows Russian, Polish and Latvian literature very well. At first she was a “napkin for snot and tears,” a psychotherapist. Because the news from the first months... you have a lesson, and this morning Ekho Moskvy and Novaya Gazeta, for example, are canceled. All this came out of me, so she listened patiently and taught me Latvian, and she taught it in a very interesting way.

Latvian is not similar to Russian, but due to its proximity to borders there is a lot of overlap. For example, their word “real” is īsts, and we have the word “truth”. There is, for example, a poem by Marina Tsvetaeva (we are talking about Tsvetaeva’s translation of Charles Baudelaire’s poem “Swimming.” - Note by The Bell), which mentions “true swimmers,” that is, “real swimmers.”

I know a lot of Russians who learn Latvian because they need to pass an exam. There are many factors why there is no motivation to learn Latvian, why there is no such need. In Latvia, everyone speaks either English or Russian.

- If you are not in the environment and you don’t have a need, then you will not learn the language.

- Yes. This can only be done with some kind of interest, some kind of motivation.

- Why do you have this feeling?

“Because it became important for me to do what everyone else doesn’t do.”

— Is it generally important for you to do what everyone else doesn’t do?

“It was important for me to swim against the current.” Because I was wondering: are you even able to learn the Latvian language, and then play and communicate in it? I'm not even talking about respect for the country you are in. This is an indisputable fact for me.

- What stage are you at now?

— I have Latvian friends. When dealing with difficult topics, we slip into Russian, and all my practice comes to naught.

— You started playing in Latvian. The play [is called] “Land of the Deaf and Mutes,” right? Not “Country of the Deaf,” but “Country of the Deaf-Mute.”

- Yes, this is important for Alvis. Peace for both those who cannot hear and those who cannot speak. Because this performance is broader than being tied to one country. This is basically about today's world, where people don't hear each other. And in some countries they still don’t have the opportunity to say what they think. This performance was entirely in Latvian, which was very interesting as an acting challenge.

- Do you learn by heart? Or are you organic...

— I understand everything I say, but I always learn by heart, including in Russian.

— Are you already a confident user of the Latvian language?

- Not in life. It depends on the topics.

— Over these two years, you have invested a lot in putting down roots in Latvia in a human sense. Do you plan to stay there for a long time, forever? Is this your new home?

— Now I’m returning home to Latvia. How long this will last, I don't know. I have no inner spiritual strength or desire to distribute my future. Because the burn and trauma after losing that future...

- Russian?

- Yes. Which I felt, saw and felt at least approximately, it does not allow me to seriously make plans for my future life.

Breaking ties and a new film

— I was at your performance “Stories of Shukshin.” It is difficult to imagine a more “roots” performance for a Russian person. For people in your profession, which you chose for a reason, it is difficult to remove yourself from yourself for a while or...

— If we talk about the feeling of homeland and the situation in which we all find ourselves, I told myself this: I cannot return to childhood. I have incredible memories, piercing ones, but I can’t go back there. That's it, there is no childhood, you have grown up. The situation that happened two years ago and continues today is the same. I can't go back there. That life doesn't exist, it's over. This is a conditional structure that I have put together in my head and which helps me cope with pain.

As for the profession, I believe that an actor is not tied to language, unlike writers and poets. An actor is an exponent of feelings and meanings through these feelings. He is an empathizer who can put feelings into any words. The next question is how much time you are willing to spend preparing for a particular role.

— You compared the past with childhood, but what about people?

- A lot of people have left.

- Your loved ones?

- Yes. So many. I am happy that those people whom I considered truly close friends turned out to be persistent individuals. Noble. Even if they cannot, unlike me, loudly say everything they think, they do not act meanly. Quite a painful question. You can't have many friends. Apparently there are only a few real ones.

— [Andrey] Loshak had a very good film “Break in Communication.” What needs to be done so that this connection does not break?

- Don't be angry. Don't be rude. Do not raise your tone. If that fails, convince the person to pause. Understand that these people are exposed to infection. Understand that maybe some people are more comfortable this way, because otherwise they will go crazy. They are not ready for what I think is the truth.

It seems to me that I see the situation objectively and that I am right. It seems to me that the war that Russia started against Ukraine should not happen. I do not believe in any arguments that the official propaganda or side offers me. For me they are unconvincing. Maybe I'm mistaken? Yes, may be. But time will tell.

— Under what conditions would you return?

- Provided that I can say what I feel, and there will be no punishment for it. That I will have ways to express my dissatisfaction or opposition, because of which I will not go to jail and a criminal case will not be brought against me. They won't kill me, they won't poison me. My children will not be harmed.

- Safety.

“This is the basis of a new society.” Everything I say is already derivative of the foundation that should have been there initially. These derivatives, such as freedom of speech, can only appear at the moment when the country changes its political course. So far I don’t really see the readiness of society to make decisions for their own lives and for the future of the country, but I see that it is more convenient for people to believe in the fairy tale that official propaganda offers them, to know that there is a smart boss who knows more than them, and now they just need to walk in formation, sit quietly and be silent, and someone will decide all this for you.

- Do you think it depends on people?

- There must still be a need.

— Is the public’s request primary?

- Yes. I'm not talking about 100% of the population now. In addition to my acting environment, thanks to the foundation I have a lot of contacts and connections with the parents whom we helped, with families who left, with my Kazan friends. I understand that now it’s easier for people to close themselves, accept it all, believe and live their little lives.

- So there is no request, you don’t feel [it]?

- I can not feel. If I'm wrong, that would be very cool, just great.

—Are you filming something?

- Currently no. At the finish line I have a film with a unique scenario about children who have resignation syndrome , apathy syndrome. I didn’t know anything about this [before]. When we talked with the director on Zoom for the first time and he sent me a synopsis and started talking about the script, about this situation, I was sure that this was a metaphor. It turned out that children of refugees (let's say a family fled the war to Europe) literally hibernate after they find themselves in a safe environment, but their parents are deprived of their refugee status and told to leave. These children, girls and boys, turn off all brain functions and fall asleep. Some sleep for 7 years.

- Is this a real traumatic syndrome?

- Yes. I didn't know anything about it. Moreover, I started asking doctors. This is apparently being kept silent on purpose. Although there are now about 200 such children in Sweden, and they talk about it openly. The syndrome was first diagnosed after World War II, and is now officially registered. Against the backdrop of the war - in Ukraine, the Gaza Strip - I think there will be more such children. [The movie] is about this.

- Who is filming it or has already filmed it?

— It was shot by the Greek director Alexandros Avranas, and many countries participated. I'm waiting for her to appear.

- When?

- Unclear. It will depend whether it goes to the Cannes Film Festival or the Venice Film Festival.

— So this is a festival film?

- Yes. Not a family film.

— Cinema is not for everyone.

— Yes, it’s called Quiet life. The previous name - Apathy ("Apathy") - seemed too sad, so it was changed. Of course, you need personal readiness, personal courage to watch such films. In general, “20 days in Mariupol” [a Ukrainian documentary film that won an Oscar this year. — Approx. The Bell]…

- You watched?

- Yes.

- I looked too.

“I know a lot of people who watched 10 minutes and said: “That’s it, this is not for me.” Too painful, too hard. Or Katya Gordeeva’s book “Take My Grief Away.”

“I haven’t gotten around to the book yet.”

- You know, I read 20 pages... Every time you think: this happens in life. Just because you, like ostriches, don’t want to deal with it now, it won’t go away. Closing my eyes and saying “it’s not my problem”, “I have my own life” and so on is my betrayal as a viewer in relation to those people who went through this. I believe that this is the death of the world, when we close ourselves off from the grief of others with indifference.

- But not everyone can do it like you. Unfortunately, I didn’t watch the play “Postscript,” but I read a lot about it, including your interviews. In one you say that instead of going to Nord-Ost then, you didn’t think about it and were preparing for the premiere. It’s as if you are now blaming yourself for your indifference.

- I don't blame you. Unfortunately, I didn't know this.

- But you understand now that in millions of cases ignorance leads to the result that we have now. After all, that is what leads.

- Yes. I didn’t have the film “20 days in Mariupol” when “Nord-Ost” happened. I basically didn’t know, although there was talk in the theater about a terrorist attack. But I didn’t have the kind of friends that I have now, Dima Muratov [a journalist and Nobel Peace Prize laureate, whom the Ministry of Justice recognized as a foreign agent, was not around. — Approx. The Bell]. I finished my buckwheat porridge and went on to the rehearsal. I am very ashamed of this today.

— How many times have you played “Postscript”?

- A lot of.

— Do you remember every time what you should have known about Nord-Ost then?

- Maybe yes. But I’m only talking about this from the point of view of a woman whose beloved husband and beloved son died in Nord-Ost. “Nord-Ost” is a separate story about what was done to the relatives of the dead people, how they were mocked and not allowed into hospitals, how they were lied to and then forced to remain silent, how this topic was leveled and stigmatized. What is it like to be with your grief when the whole world tells you: “We don’t care.” Because I play this woman, I understand that I find myself in this situation.

— But when you are in a situation where you can’t do anything and your actions create a threat to you, how can you watch the film “20 days in Mariupol”? That is, after watching this film you want to act, but you cannot act.

“You can’t act now, but you already know the truth.” When you see this - you stop 15 times, walk, cry, wipe your snot and look further - you are associated with it. You say: yes, I'm with you. Even if you can't do anything.

— How can you explain to people who are, roughly speaking, under pressure and in fear why they need to allow empathy into themselves?

- How to force them?

- How to explain that they need it?

- No way. I don't know. People who are interested and want to see this with their own eyes, but are scared, just need to think that tomorrow this could happen to you. That's all.

- Do you think it will be enough?

- History has provided so many examples. The Holocaust - how it began and happened. Step by step: we can’t ride the tram, we can’t go to the swimming pool. What did this lead to? This led to the Holocaust itself, and to the bombing of cities, where these same Germans, shrugging their shoulders, boarded the tram, and the Jews walked. And there are many such historical examples.

The case of Zhenya Berkovich and the death of Alexei Navalny

— You and your colleagues Ksenia Rappoport and Danila Kozlovsky did a charity performance. This is another one of your projects, I understand?

— It was a charity performance “Chitka” for the Gift of life foundation in London. We collected money for medicines for children in Russian clinics.

— Was it toxic for them to stand on the same stage with you?

- Certainly.

— Did it have consequences?

- Certainly.

- Which?

- Some.

- They had to return...

- Apologize? No. They are sitting without work. Both Danya and Ksenia.

- Ah, this is expressed.

- Yes. After they stood on the same stage with me - even though they were collecting money for medicines for Russian children - we drove through them. But they were ready. I asked them a million times: “Guys, please, I don’t want you... Because it’s dangerous.” They said: “We help children.” We really help children and have raised a decent amount to buy a lot of medicine.

— Another difficult question about Evgenia Berkovich. I think that at every meeting with Putin, anyone from your broadly professional circle asked about the [director Kirill] Serebrennikov case. Now…

— Two people from our entire wide professional circle.

- Seriously?

- Yes. This was one of my first disappointments.

— Few people dared?

“Either they didn’t dare enough, or they didn’t consider it a problem, or they were lazy, or they didn’t want to get involved.

“But it felt like there was a lot of support, and I think it worked in the end.” The system could have acted much harsher.

— There were more serious negotiators. We, artists, are corrupt whores for the system.

- Like this?

“I think that’s how they perceive us.” And now, after everyone was tied up, there is no personal respect left.

— How can Berkovich’s fate be influenced under these conditions?

- Definitely don’t be silent. Just keep talking about it. And talk about this terrible situation as often as possible. At least try to explain to those people who still believe that there is no smoke without fire that Zhenya Berkovich is a unique director, playwright, and poet. A man of big heart. For me she is a girl. A girl who worked with children from orphanages. There was such a program through the theater to help them get rid of their complexes and generally experience life. There she met Kira, a girl from an orphanage, tried to arrange her fate, and found a foster mother for Kira. The adoptive mother already had one girl older than Kira, also a child from the orphanage system. Kira appeared second.

Then my mother fell ill with a fatal disease. To prevent the girls from ending up in an orphanage again, Zhenya very quickly reissued the documents and took them under guardianship. The girls started living with her. And the girl Zhenya’s life changed. I watched her persevere [to cope]. You are an independent, chic, young girl, just starting your journey, a fashionable director. And two souls from the orphanage system appear in your space. This is the path she has made patiently, lovingly, twisting herself, suppressing. An incredible journey.

She became a real, caring mother. She had just begun to explain to the children that the world is not so scary and bad, that not all people are wolves to each other. And she is sent to prison. The children stay with Zhenya's friends. Of course, this will be a tragic regression for children. I'm not even talking about the essence: how can two girls be put in prison for a performance that highlights precisely the problems of recruiting girls by militants and opposes it. But beyond the brackets, we all understand that these are Zhenya’s anti-war poems.

- It is a revenge?

- Yes. They never have the strength to say why they are punishing you.

- Is there anyone now who can intercede? Do you know such people or is everything really bad?

- No, they are. But it’s impossible to say [about them].

— Of course, I couldn’t help but talk to you about Alexei Navalny, whose death, most likely murder, I experience as a personal tragedy. In 2021, when he came to Russia, you also expressed support for him. Did you know each other?

— We knew each other very indirectly, we crossed paths at some events. We didn't know each other closely. This does not change my pain, my rage. For me, this is not even a political murder, but simply murder.

— I would return to your performance “Postscriptum”, to its Dostoevsky part. You said, again in one of your interviews, that both Stavrogin and Tikhon are Russia. And Stavrogin sins even more, so as not to repent. When I read this...

- Do you understand that this is my...

— Interpretation.

- Interpretation, yes. Subjective.

“When I read this, several days had already passed since Alexei’s death, and it seemed to me that this was just it. Russia is sinning even more, Putin is sinning even more. It is impossible to repent of the crime of starting the war and even more crimes must be committed...

- Yes, this is a changeover: what, for example, seems to me cowardice, there seems to be strength. What seems to me like vile, slimy weakness seems to be a manifestation of courage there. This really surprises me. That is, you kill your opponent, who is tied up and lying at your feet, but your message to the whole world: look, I will stop at nothing, look how tough I am. This is so mean, petty... I don’t know who does this. When Yulia said in her address to stand next to her [we are talking about Yulia Navalnaya’s video message , in which she promised to continue her husband’s work. — Approx. The Bell], I practically stood up, that is, physically, I wanted to stand up. Get up and just stand there.

- How to proceed with this?

- With this murder? With loss of hope?

- With loss of hope.

— Yulia Navalnaya gave new, different hope. It was obvious that this could happen.

- Before it happens, you always believe that “maybe...”.

- Yes. There was hope that this would not happen, but rather like this. The hardest thing is to continue to believe.

- What do you hope for? What do you believe now?

— There is a result, and there is a process. The process of struggle, the process of the segment of life that is given to us.

Today, supporting each other and seeing people nearby who understand that this is white and this is black, this is good and this is evil, it’s good to do this, but it’s impossible to do that, we are already forming, perhaps fragile and inarticulate, but an energy field whose power will one day turn into some kind of action. Maybe these will be our children. Maybe it won't be us at all.

“I’ll explain why you have the right to tell people about this.” You've dealt with grief a lot, you've seen a lot of different things while working for a charity. I think most people haven't seen as much as you have. But something gives me the strength to move on.

- Understanding that we are here for a short time and there is some other life... Navalny already has a different life. He lives a different life now. What they, it seems to me, could not forgive Navalny was his grin. A calm, humorous, beautiful smile: “What will you do to me? Even if you kill me." He’s done, he’s immortal, you can’t kill him anymore. We, of course, want to be here and now... But it doesn’t happen that way. Therefore, there is a mystery of death about which we know nothing. Those people who returned, they still weren’t there until the end.

- Still a memory.

- Yes. As long as a person is alive in me, he is alive. And he is alive: in me, in you, in my children. That's it, he's alive.