Text by Olya Genda

Contemporary Theatre — 23/03/17 23:00

Futuristic Opera "2014"

Screenwriter, сomposer and Director: Oleksa Kolomiitsev

Right now, Ukrainian theatre reminds me, at best, of a bottomless vale of tears. There is a certain sacramental catch to it. You see contemporary theatre, but you can’t just suffer quietly. This isn’t drama, it’s not even tragedy—it’s devil knows what. You seem to understand and feel everything, but! Inside you, some demons confuse all your senses and plot schemes, trying to protect you, as if saying: "Man, this is not for you, calm down, go have some vodka, and don’t come back here." And that is exactly what most people do when they experience the gripping hand of creativity from Ukrainian director and composer Oleksa Kolomiitsev. Indeed, the Ministry of Health should put a warning on all the posters: you can lose your mind at these shows. And why is that?

Something is Wrong with this Oleksa Kolomiitsev, or How to Drive the Audience to Madness?

In his frantic urge to tell the world the truth, director Kolomiitsev forgets about those sketchy little people who care about nothing but their slippers and vodka with pickles. "The audience is no fool," Kolomiitsev says, stubbornly burning himself out alongside the people who long for something real, at least in art.

The futuristic opera “2014, ” based on Velimir Khlebnikov’s work “The Night Search” (Nochnoy Obysk), literally blew up the internet, broke the dam, and incinerated the line between art and real life. And all this happened even before the premiere. Press announcements came with a loud headliner: Aleksey Gorbunov will star in Kolomiitsev’s opera. This was almost too much. The poor folk just couldn’t stop Kolomiitsev, because he keeps staging these heartbreaking plays. Aleksey Gorbunov—a highly talented theatre and film actor—is known for his infectious acting charisma not only in Ukraine but far, far abroad, mostly in the Russian Federation, following a stunning film career. And here he is, after a few years of a truly MHAT-like pause in the theatrical field, and after a sharp break with Russian cinema (following the annexation of Crimea), taking part in a futuristic opera in Ukraine, THINK ABOUT IT, based on the work of the Russian poet Velimir Khlebnikov. And on top of that, directed by the scandalous and relentless Oleksii Kolomiitsev.

Neither the pro-Russian "VATA" nor the ultra-nationalist "VyshyVATA" were ready for such a plot. But one should never underestimate small-minded people; they unite and multiply much faster. As a result, the announcement of the show was widely circulated by the pro-Russian "VATA" with a generous portion of filth poured on the "traitor" Gorbunov and Kolomiitsev, while the "VyshyVATA" stubbornly and stoically met it with silence. Kolomiitsev even thanked the Russian news outlets, saying: "At least someone is advertising us."

So much lyricism. JUST STOP IT.

But this is important. Why?

It was fascinating to observe the reaction not only of the "vata" but also of the major players. The silence of the lambs. Everyone meekly goes to the slaughter, do not disturb.

Getting closer to the performance.

On the day of the premiere, I felt as if the sky would fall right onto the Vasylko Ukrainian Theatre, where the action was to take place. Electric charges, raw nerves, psychosis, a stubborn sense of the fatal significance of the event, full mobilization, and terrifying predictions regarding the reaction. The performance begins, and from the very first minute, the world ceases to exist. The announcement before the show catches me off guard:

The characters are — US!

I instantly recall Kolomiitsev’s previous production—the live cinema “Vivisection, ” where the director deliberately provokes the audience with a silent scene, a cage woven from psychotropic music, and captions:

Super-objective. Characters —?

That wretched question mark had eaten into me like a rusty anchor. I kept attending Vivisection, understanding nothing and fearing everything. But the answer that hit me in the opera “2014” was catastrophically simple and incredibly terrifying. The characters are Us. Damn it, us and only us. The chances of crawling back into the safety of the shell dropped to zero. Throughout the rest of the performance, the audience held tightly to their chairs, perhaps trying to resist this message in any way possible. But no. The synergy of Aleksey Gorbunov’s acting mastery, Kolomiitsev’s direction and his powerful psychological weapon in the form of music, combined with the energy of the young actors—drove the audience to a state of numbness. This wild and terrifying numbness became the quintessence of the show for me. This is exactly the kind of theatre that is needed here and now: to catch you off guard, to screw you into your seat like the main character of Kubrick’s brilliant A Clockwork Orange, to hypnotize you and drive you to madness. The crowd leaving the theatre looked like a bunch of blind kittens who didn’t know where to go or what to do. You cannot remain the same after this performance—whether you are wearing slippers or not. After you see a girl playing hopscotch on the corpse of her brother, pretending that everything is fine and that’s the way it should be, you realize: Damn it, that’s me! They turned me into an emotionless dummy, eviscerated, holding a right to an illusion, but not to an action. Every day, they strip away my right to objective reality; they lie to me relentlessly. Why do I allow this?

After the show

Kolomiitsev, like a perfectly normal eclectic misanthrope and a fan of self-destruction, decided to hold a discussion. There were indeed a lot of people at the discussion; for many, the performance wasn’t enough—they were already hooked on the needle, the process had begun. Many talked about slippers and the beach, admitting they "just wanted to see Gorbunov" on the theatre stage. Many were outraged, saying: "Nothing is clear, what even was that?" But there were also the lucky owners of a sane mind who understood what it was about, why, and what comes next. Too categorical? Not at all. There is black and white. There is yes and no. As Aleksey Gorbunov puts it: "This is a play about light and darkness."

The futuristic opera “2014” directed by Oleksii Kolomiitsev has every chance to become a cornerstone for our society. Either we will continue to feed the hyenas, giving up our men to the slaughter and our daughters for entertainment, or we will break the vicious circle, burning down in the same house with our enemies. Are there any other options? To believe in rising from the ashes? Or to stop feeding the hyenas right now?

P. S. Some of you remained silent and will continue to stay silent about this performance, leaving comments like: "too emotional, too much pathos and fluff." And generally, "it is inappropriate to write praises to your friends or acquaintances."

To this, I can only say one thing: your silence will kill you, but as for me—perhaps I am rising from the ashes.

The characters are my friends, my enemies, people, lions, eagles, and partridges.

The characters are — US!

Tags: Contemporary Theatre, Theatre in Ukraine, Odesa, Culture, Oleksii Kolomiitsev, European Theatre