To say that the artists and teachers of MXAT are intimidating would be to say that the Grand Canyon is a good sized ditch. They are the defining voices in this art form and in Russian culture. When you think about what it means to be a true artist, these are the people you look to and today I had to perform for them. The National Theatre Institute out of the Eugene O’Neil Center in Connecticut has been running an affiliate program through the Moscow Art Theatre for something like the last 15 years or so, which allows independent American students the opportunity to study at MXAT. Now that NIU started the first undergraduate university semester program with the school (which the O’Neil group was very unhappy about as we have received some serious special treatment from MXAT) the Artistic Director and faculty decided to combine their 27 person group and our 8 person group and then divide us into two classes. In order for them to do that they needed to evaluate us individually. So the day we arrived Alex informed us we would need to prepare a monologue to be performed in front of the ENTIRE faculty and all of our classmates. I had no idea I would need to have anything ready and I haven’t worked on a monologue in months and this is for the greatest artists in all of Russia! I was terrified and excited and just hoping to dear god that I would be able to speak. I honestly can’t remember much of the first part of the morning as my mind was fixated on praying I wouldn’t suck since I am supposed to be some sort of role model for these kids who are currently in the NIU program. (It is a really weird uncomfortable feeling and they all look at me like I am supposed to have words of wisdom or insight into what happens next and all I really want to say is ‘Don’t look at me cause I don’t think I would be here if I had a clue!’) Anyway, the program coordinator spent an hour or so before the audition giving us tips on making our way through the Russian culture, trying to get by when you literally know two words in the entire language and can’t read the alphabet, and how to handle a society that won’t smile back at you because they do not believe in smiling ‘unless it is from the heart’. So when one by one the faculty walked in with their intense stares and stern faces you could feel the nervous anticipation in the room shift instantly into down-right terror. They sat down in line in front of us and silently looked us all over. Suddenly they broke out into laughter and one of the professors said through a translator (yeah, almost no one speaks English) that he had discovered a phenomenon with all the American students. They come to Moscow and are afraid to smile. “Smile!” he said. That is why they love Americans, because of our openness and warmth even if they don’t necessarily follow the same practices. With that I began to understand the complexity of what makes this people so profoundly dynamic and I started to feel a sense of ease. The professors moved down into the audience in front of us, with Alex sitting right in front of me so he could send me sly looks throughout the performance and one by one the students got up to perform. I have to say I was very impressed by the quality of work that these students brought with them. It was clear that everyone was at different levels in their training but there was an overall sense that these were all artists and regardless of background had a level of respect and commitment you don’t always find in people our age. More important, however, was what I didn’t see, in myself. I have this horrible affliction, and I think it is one that most artist share, in which I compare myself to everyone else and I feel the need to quantify my talent against theirs; too good I panic, too bad I panic. This was the first time I can ever remember sitting and watching other artists without judgment or preference, just enjoying each moment. In fact it was intoxicating. I just got more and more excited thinking how amazing and surreal this experience is going to be. I was nervous but not scared. Two-thirds of the way through I got up to perform a piece I haven’t done in years and had only briefly practiced the night before. And it was a blast! Probably the most fun I have had in, well, a very very long time. I felt really good about it, it felt easy and natural but it really didn’t matter. It was just fun. I thought that was a pretty darn good way to end the day but then we found out that we would be spending our evening seeing a new avant-garde adaptation of a Gogol short story on the MXAT second stage. We killed a few hours by walking TWO blocks to Red Square and snapping a few photos.
It is very difficult to explain the Russian theatre experience. It is so unlike anything we have in the States. It is such an essential part of Russian society, most people start going to the theatre when they are only a few years old. Alex explained that in a society where religion was banned for nearly a century, the theatre has become for these people a kind of secular church, a place of sacred communal union. It has a level of godliness and as the society shifted with changing structure so did the theatre. Thus it was no surprise that as we hovered in the crammed lobby long past curtain time waiting for show to begin, the audience seemed barely phased by the house manager’s announcement that show would be delayed by a lead actress who was stuck in traffic. The show was well worth the wait. Even though I did not know a word that was being said there was not a moment that I did not understand. The actors’ specificity was perfection. I have never seen an actual Star of the theatre and that was what these artists are. The audience laden them with flowers and as I sat through the endless applause I realized the theatre we will be seeing here will be unlike anything I could ever know anyplace else. Oh, and the wait was also worth it for a second reason. Alex took me aside and told me how impressed he was with my piece. He said I have really grown as a performer and he had not expected such a great ease and openness given the circumstances and what he could remember of my work. Even more thrilling, he said the Russians really liked my work too! I kinda feel like the Grinch when his heart grew three sizes!
