A Word from the Actor. Igor Yatsko
Igor Yatsko | 2013

THE ACTOR. (Excerpts from a text by Igor Yatsko)

THEATRE AND CATHEDRAL

The theatre offered up by Anatoly Vasiliev, a place where I studied with pleasure and of good will, and in which I never grew disillusioned, never despaired and never regretted joining (on the contrary, I was always only happy about that) – this theatre is not located in the same space as common theatre, what we usually call theatre, secular theatre, theatre for people, for the spectator, theatre as entertainment, theatre as an art form created with talent. Vasilyev's theatre is not located in this territory, it is something closer to a temple. Questions arise about such a theatre: "Is this theatre? This is not theatre! What does the spectator do here? What does the spectator look at? Who are you working for, anyway?" Problems arise when a theatre begins resembling a temple, of course – the problems of growth and of consciousness. Religious feeling or questions of faith are the most important issues in a person's life, regardless of whether he or she is a believer or not. (I speak now not as a teacher, but rather I speak from my own experience).

I have always identified myself as follows: know it or not, when facing death every person will stand forth not collectively, but rather one on one. Even if it is a collective death, as on the battlefield or some other way. I was once struck by this in Lev Tolstoy in his textbook chapter of "The Sky of Austerlitz," featuring Prince Bolkonsky. This contrast is described well there: Just one second ago he was running with a crowd, was part of a large society, part of a large army, then something whizzed and whistled, a man fell, and everything stopped: he had now ceased to be a part of an army or society. He is alone with the sky, which in this case acts as a symbol or a kind of screen so that Tolstoy does not have to go into details. At some point, I realized that everyone, finding him or herself in this position, must answer for the choice that he or she made in life: whether it was to acquire faith or lose faith, to rebel and fight against faith or to chose obedience and humility. We will answer not only for our deeds, but for the choice we make.

[...]

Some [actor] may say: "A temple is a temple, and a theatre is a theatre. Why must I confess? If I confess in church, why must I confess in a theatre? In the theatre, I must be protected by a mask, the character I play. It is he who confesses, not I." Another type of theatre destroys this distance, this difference, this defense, because, as an actor, you can do nothing if you are closed off by some other being. Nothing happens to you if you don't invest yourself, your own thoughts, in the work. There's nothing you can do about it, because you cannot hide it behind any technique, any voice or sound. It will always be visible. You do not need special eyesight to see it. But this concerns any theatre. I did this at Vasilyev's theatre when I worked on Dostoevsky, and Thomas Mann (Joseph and his Brothers). As such, the theme of The Constant Prince Calderon is very interesting for me. For me there is no contradiction between the theatre and the temple, for I once passed this way and my road is already taking me further.

CALDERON

I accepted this role [Fernando] and this work with Boris Yukhananov, because what I heard was its risk, its danger. And, strangely enough, its relevance for our time. This is relevance from the opposite point of view - not to go in step with the times, but to go against them. In this case it's easy to go against, for I do it from the heart. In my heartfelt desire to play this role, as I overcome all sorts of fears and doubts, it is easy to move with the wind, while moving against the times. And that is interesting. Whatever kind of theatre you might make, you want to be heard. The dialogue between the stage and the hall in theatre is not the most important source of energy, but it is a pleasure. Theatre gives us the opportunity to conduct such a dialogue.

This work helped me discover the name of Calderon. I am grateful to Boris that he involved me in this. The only fear I had was caused by Jerzy Grotowski’s famous production of this play. It was one of Cieslak's greatest roles. I would never want to be in a competitive relationship with something that I know as a legend only from books and video, but which I love and respect. Boris convinced me that we would have a completely different approach. Our production primarily relates to the play, there could be no talk of competition [with Grotowski].

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FERNANDO AND HAMLET

A mythology arises around some plays, and each can be quite different. Calderon is not as famous as some. When you are engaged in theatre, it's not so much that you dream about roles, but you do simply dream of expanding your horizons and expanding your knowledge. This is very different with each actor. It depends on your age, with whom and with what you have been fortunate. I have always loved plays: a text falls into your hands, you start reading it and immediately begin determining your attitude to it. Shakespeare's Hamlet always seemed to me a very strange play. What does that mean, “strange?” It means that, as it seemed to me, I alone could never solve the riddle of this play, how to stage it, how to interpret it, how to understand it, by what means? When I read a play (and not just a play), I think about how to stage it, or how to perform it. I consider whether the material is suitable for theatre. You find the key to some, but to some you do not. Hamlet was never a play that I understood how to do, even though I eventually staged Hamlet, and I did do much work on it as a director and teacher. I arrived at a solution for my students at the institute when I read the records of Mikhail Chekhov's rehearsals. I was shocked by his analysis, because he was very close to the School of Dramatic Art. Thanks to these records and to Mikhail Chekhov’s analysis, I was fortunate to learn a great deal for myself as I worked my way through Hamlet. It was very long and complex open rehearsal – as if such a rehearsal could exist – consisting of many different works and changing of roles. We did not reconstruct what was described in the records of Mikhail Chekhov’s rehearsals, but we did touch on these materials and on Hamlet. As such, a dream that I did not have actually came true. Shortly after that, Boris asked me to perform in Calderon’s The Constant Prince.

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The similarity of Hamlet’s and Fernando’s journeys are, of course, very interesting. If you consider them superficially, they are quite unsimilar. Chekhov's actors, by the way, express their doubts and say, "if we perform like this, if we reject animal instincts and psychological manners of performance, will we lose our art as actors. Won’t this impoverish our mastery of craft?” Mikhail Chekhov responded: "Not only will it not impoverish your mastery, your mastery will grow many times over." This is very interesting – the fear of being direct, of taking the straight path. I really like one of Mikhail Chekhov’s phrases about “animal instincts in acting,” it is trenchant and bold – "we must abandon animal instincts in acting, we’ve done that enough already."