October 24 – Day 37

I danced today. I danced all the way to school. I danced up and down and up again on the endless stairs at MXAT. I sang out loud and head-banged to the ridiculous chick rock blaring from my IPOD. I quickly discovered that despite a few odd looks from otherwise stone-faced Russians no one really cared and I deeply enjoyed the ludicrously of it all. After all, I am in Russia, who cares?!? It was the first day since the St. Petersburg trip that I didn’t feel heavy. I wrote and wrote until 4 in the morning about every piece of silliness bothering me and felt the tremendous freedom of letting it all go. It was such a fantastic day. It was finally a little warm and there was even a beam or two of sunlight. We spent the morning working on back bends and summersaults and I have to say I might be getting the hang of it. I had so much fun all day and could barely contain my anticipation for the evening’s performance of the opera Eugene Onegin based on the famous Pushkin novel in verse about the original superfluous man. It was so amazing. I cannot believe how spoiled I am to see all this phenomenal work. I could go to the theatre every night here and still not see everything the city has to offer. It was so gorgeous. I cannot get over the fluidity of the Russian stage picture. Every work I have seen, no matter the genre, moves with the rhythm of choreography without its limiting rigidity. The design of these shows takes live theatre to a different realm. Every element is so rich and such a decisive choice. Perhaps because it is rep and some of these shows have been running for over 20 years but there is a clarity and vision so distinct it astounds my mind. My favorite part of the mise en scene was in the final ball scene during the General’s aria, which was beyond heart-breaking, when they lowered a faux proscenium made of ornate crystal beading and golden thread woven so intricately it resembled a series of ornate necklaces like that of Catherine the Great. Sometimes when a piece of theatre is truly spectacular you can feel the breath of the audience moving in rhythm with the heartbeat of an actor. Typically it is spiritual subtlety. In Russia it is a reality, manifesting itself in thirty minute curtain calls where the audience creates rhythmic harmonies in their syncopated applause.