Yana Meerzon
Theatre versus Identity
On the problem of aesthetic perception of the emigré theatre audience.
To change a country is to shift from one language into another, to switch
the cultural codes, to accept the aesthetics of foreign signs and to decode
them into one's authentic or personal semiotic system. For Russian Canadians,
the art of theatre is an invisible spiritual bridge connecting immigrants' “here and now” with their “there and then”. In fact, bringing into the
new milieu theatre productions done in Russian and performed by celebrity
actors helps newcomers not only to create a “mini back-home” atmosphere
but also to maintain their aesthetic criteria, which are built on the expansion
of norms and functions of one culture into another. Joseph Brodsky describes
immigration as linguistic and psychological condition of “belonging to
two cultures”, which “is either a blessing or a punishment […] It is, if
you like, a remarkable situation psychically, because you're sitting on
top of a mountain and looking down the both slots” (Brodsky in Volkov,185).
The subject of this article is theatrical reception in immigration as
a part of the phenomenon “eacutemigré identity”, which is a transition from
one collective Self to the other. Questions of what and why emigré audiences
identify with productions done in their native language and in the foreign
one will be addressed in particular. Felix Vodicka's concept of historical
echoes or concretization will be used as a theoretical tool which not only
distinguishes the work of art as an artistic sign but also projects it “onto the collective systems of aesthetic norms and values understood as
codes” (Striedter, 125). Natalia Ptushkina's Spinster (Staraya
Deva), done by St. Petersburg's Theatre Company Our House, and Renato Mainardi's
Antonio von Elba, Roman Viktyuk's Theatre, Moscow will be discussed
as samples of theatre produced in Russia and touring in Canada for the
community. Anton Chekhov's Platonov, by Soulpepper Theatre Company,
and Tony Kushner's Slavs, Tarragon Theatre, Toronto will be examined
as Canadian productions based on Russian drama and speaking about Russians
respectively.
The term concretization appeared for the first time in the works of
Roman Ingarden, who suggested looking at work of art as a fixed text acquiring
meaning during the reader's reception, determined by the circumstances
of his/her personal life. According to Ingarden, the quantity and quality
of possible concretizations are unpredictable, since they depend on the
intellectual level and emotional abilities of each receiver. Felix Vodicka,
the Czech literary historian and theoretician, borrowed the term from Ingarden
and reshaped it along with the ideas of Jan Mukarovsky on communal aesthetic
norms and expectations, recognizing any historical concretization as a
collective action, which designates “the reflection of a work in the consciousness
of those to whom it is esthetic object” (Vodicka, 110). According to Vodicka,
a work of art, a piece of literature, a theatre performance can be concretized
in many ways; “not only can its schematic places be concretized, but also
can the structure of the entire work if it is projected against the background
of the structure of the immediate literary tradition. A work constantly
changes under changing temporal, local, social and even individual conditions”
(Vodicka,110). The same mechanisms are applicable to the processes of aesthetic
reception of theatregoers, especially to those of immigrant spectators.
As Pavis puts it, the processes of “reception can be only understood if
we take into account two historicities […]: that of the work within its
literary and social context, and that of a receiver in his own time, and
within the system of ideological and aesthetic expectations” (Pavis, 72)
.
The principles of immigrants' collective perception of productions done
in their native language — Russian — are based on the newcomers' identification
with the familiar aesthetic codes and distinctions of theatre rhetoric,
which consists of cultural signs communicating either the accustomed social
background or artistic conventions. As Striedter states, “ one must go
on to inquire how, in the act of aesthetic perception or concretization
by the recipient, the “code” generated by the work itself as an artefact,
structured by the author for the purpose of aesthetic communication, interacts
with the collective handed-down, historically changing norms” (Striedter,
130). The aesthetic expectations of a receiver arose on the basis of the
collective aesthetic norm existing in every particular country and period
of history. In immigration, the original collective and personal expectations
change when colliding with aesthetic norms of another culture. The previous
expectations of a receiver and recent norms of a culture he/she lives within
meet and melt, producing fusion of aesthetic prospects. Applying Vodicka's
idea of a contextual literary analysis to the immigrants' reception in
theatre, it is important to underline that the work of art — a performance — should be examined within the newcomers' mixed cultural context. These
fused expectations concretize the meaning of the artistic message in the
private circumstances of a receiver and in the specific historical context
of a time period.
For instance, both Russian productions, Ptushkina's Spinster
and Mainardi's Antonio von Elba, feature either star actors or the
celebrity director Roman Viktyuk respectively, with whose artistic craftsmanship
an emigré audience can more easily identify. Spinster is a Christmas
tale about a middle-aged Russian woman, who by chance acquires a family,
a husband and a daughter, as a gift for the New Year's Eve. Antonio
von Elba investigates the eccentricity of love between an aged opera
star and a young ambitious singer.
One of the essential components peculiar to the aesthetic expectations
of Russian community is the people's memory of actors' professional skills.
Russian actors mix and wed deep psychological motivations and characterizations
of the portrayed stage figures with the conventional directing and form
of a production. For example, in Spinster Inna Churikova plays the
leading part of Tatiana, who is thrown out of gear by the circumstances
of the so-called “post-Soviet” life in Russia. Tatiana is an emblematic
figure of 1960s generation brought up on the spiritual ideals of Charles
Dickens. She is proud of being short of money but rich in soul. Churikova
portrays the psychological journey of the character in the dreamlike atmosphere
of Christmas, depicting all tiny ups and downs within Tatiana's inner trip
from doomed loneliness to hesitant feelings of happiness. (A rich accountant,
owner of property in Spain, mistakenly comes to her apartment to stay.)
The style of the set design suggests, however, a slightly different take
on the character. The space represents disjointed parts of a small apartment
featuring a corridor going through a kitchen into the number of blind rooms
without windows. This fragmentation also typifies the directing, which
oscillates between psychologically meticulous treatments of every scene
and symbolic transitions between them. Nevertheless, Churikova follows
both the directorial views and her own individual performance. This devotion
of the actress to her craft and particular talents, to play a character
on the edge of nervous breakdown without hysterics but with humour, is
the most recognizable and valuable detail, which the audience comes to
observe and identify with.
The creativity of the director Roman Viktyuk is another aspect of theatrical
mastery that the Russian immigrant audience enjoys. Viktyuk is the magician
of theatrical epatage, the shaman of ultimate theatricality. His directorial
style is overloaded with nonsensical but beautiful elements. His aim and
at the same time secret of his success is to administer a slap in the face
of the aesthetic taste of the public, making the elements of kitsch the
aesthetic dominant of his productions. Viktyuk dismisses not only the
traditions of realistic or psychological theatre but also those of the
avant-garde. His stage texts are full of hidden ironic references to different
theatrical and directorial styles, especially to ones of Meyerhold and
Tairov. His mise en scenes mock not only the collective expectations
of the public, but also the presence of live actors on stage. Viktyuk usually
exploits his actors almost as puppets obedient to his authoritative directorial
power. He does not hesitate to put his actors in ridiculous poses making
them at the same time pronounce highly sentimental and sombre texts. To
illustrate, in the production of Antonio von Elba one of the love
scenes between Amalia (played by the former Russian opera star Natalya
Obraztsova) and Antonio (one of Viktyuk's most flexible actors-marionettes — Dmitry Bozin) is performed atop a construction ladder. The actors, risking
their safety, balance in baggy costumes pronouncing cliché lines, embracing and kissing each other. Viktyuk plays with the idea of aesthetic function as the dominant one in a work of art, which, according to Jakobson, isa vehicle for its meaning. Viktyuk questions the possibility of existence
of such function, narrowing the gap between the high and lowbrow expectations of the public. The reality he refers to has no social background or specific national address. The essence of love and possibility of it are given to the audience as the subject and evaluative criteria. Everything and everybody serves Venus.
The community perceives the production with mixed feelings of enthusiasm and embarrassment, recognizing and distancing itself from the directorial irony, comparing it with social and aesthetic norms common for the new culture they live within. Thus, the processes of concretization happen within the historical and collective momentum of the theatrical event, revealing the immigrants' present aesthetic expectations and defining their current identity.
* * *
Applying the term concretization to immigrants' reception of productions
done in English, it is worth talking about their recognition of foreign
issues reflected in the productions based on the authentic drama — (Platonov,
SoulPepper Company); and immigrants' rejection of representation of images
offered in the productions representing their original culture — (Slavs,
Tarragon Theatre). In other words, for the Russian emigré to watch Chekhov's
drama in English, in Toronto, means to recognize issues common not for
the Russia of 19th century, but rather for Canada of the 21st. To watch
Kushner's play at the Tarragon means to identify not with the characters
or social order portrayed on the stage, but with Western dilemmas inherently
present in the text. Thus, both productions will be looked at in the light
of the idea of theatre event being the unique artistic phenomenon reflecting
the particular “here and now” context of the audience's reception.
As Vodicka observes, “ if we study the reception of a work, we must
concentrate not on the actual work, but on the aesthetic object with which
the work in a given sense is identified in the perceiver's consciousness”
(Vodicka, 109). That is why it is important to discuss here first the nominal
content or meaning of the message perceived by the emigré audience, and
then the aesthetic codes with which this message is conveyed, to highlight
the difference between the psychological and semiotic aspects of reception.
The distinct psychological expectations of theatregoers in Russia and
in the West are presupposed by the contrast of social functions theatre
there fulfils. Theatre in Russia used to act as an institution setting
up ethical criteria and moral norms for society. Theatre in the West runs
more as a form of entertainment, asserting its validity on the market (together
with films and restaurants) as a commodity. Even though during the recent
years the Russian theatre has been re-directing its functions from ethic-aesthetic
to commercial, the immigrants still operate with the standards they adopted
at home, at least the generation formed in 1970s-1980s. In this respect,
the SoulPeppers' version of Chekhov's Platonov competes with the
long lasting tradition of Chekhov's stage adaptations in Russia. This tradition
is inherited by the collective consciousness of the public and informs
its present expectations.
This early play of Chekhov, however, had never had a convincing history
of theatrical interpretations. It has always been the focus of historians'
interest as the play containing a variety of themes and elements appearing
in his later dramas. For instance, the love triangle Platonov — Sophia — doctor Triletsky resembles the one in Uncle Vanya: Ivanov — Elena — Dr. Astrov. Consequently, the majority of Russian productions based on
Platonov were concerned with indicating topics and details essential for
Chekhov's future works. In this light, Toronto's project became a pleasant
surprise, focusing not on dramatic impulses of the play, but on existential
problems of human beings. SoulPepper's production stressed the major Chekhovian
conflict projected onto the enigma of the advanced, technologically developed
Western society: people's inability to listen to each other, the impossibility
of a dialogue. Indeed, the Canadian production depicted an unhappy man,
Platonov, surrounded by several monstrous women unattractive both physically
and psychologically. Those women, according to the very masculine directorial
reading (popular neither in the West nor in Russia) of the dramatic conflict,
represented the victims of the feminist movement and theories, claiming
the leading roles both in the public life of society (Lisa Repo-Martell
as Grekova), and in the private one of Platonov (Nancy Palk as Anna Petrovna).
Laszlo Marton, the director, draws an unpleasant and uneasy theatrical,
stage atmosphere expressed through the sharp geometrical forms and settings
of the furniture and usage of light marking the boundaries between outer
and inner dramatic/human spaces. In this adaptation, Russian immigrants
face not only the particular interpretation of Chekhov's play, but also
the estranged image of the dramatist himself. The image of Anton Chekhov,
a misogynist, depicting women sick from sexual desires, throwing themselves
at men, making love to them openly and shamelessly, is not quite congruent
with the traditional image of the author in Russia. Chekhov's women on
stage often suggested Turgenev's female characters: tender and romantic.
Only during the years of radical Perestroika Chekhov's plays went through
revolutionary readings. Once Elena Andreevna (Uncle Vanya) was portrayed
as a very progressive woman making love to Astrov on the piano. However,
the extremes didn't cater to the aesthetic norms of general public, remaining
in the spheres of narrow professional interest of theatre critics. That
is why the representation of Chekhov's flickering conflicts through the
opposition between hysterical females and weak, drunken males on the SoulPepper's
stage could not change or interfere with the Russian traditional reading
and viewers' psychological expectations of Chekhov's texts.
Speaking of semiotic aspects of emigré reception, I would argue that
in theatre immigrants recognize aesthetic signs of the native culture and
the familiar interpretation of them as dominant over the signs of a new
culture. Thereby for the receiver-immigrant the signs of a native culture
play a role of the assumed “surplus knowledge”. The misapprehension of
artistic events is the result of peoples' dealing not only with another
language but also with signs reflecting other signifiers. The production
of Kushner's Slavs at the Tarragon Theatre is an example illustrating
the obstacles in translatability of signs of one culture into another.
Slavs is a political satire in the form of farce, discussing the worthiness
of Communist philosophies applied to the reality of a single country. The
play appeared in Kushner's volume called Thinking About the Longstanding
Problems of Virtue and Happiness , with the author's remarks for the
staging reminiscent of Bertolt Brecht's tradition of theatre as a place
of dispute. As Kushner writes, “the action of much of the first act is
to think about the longstanding problems of virtue and happiness — a lively,
active, vigorous, passionate thinking, not introspective brooding, but
thinking hard, discussing” (Kushner, 94). Unfortunately, the director,
Dennis Garnhum disregarded this idea of Kushner and attempted to mock and
parody the outcomes of the Soviet ideology and life without taking into
consideration the dramatist's belief of the absurdity of any idolized social
idea. Kushner's builds his satire on the effort to discuss and explain
in the artistic form why enslaving oneself to ideology is self-abusing
and dangerous for the others. However, Tarragon's production imitating
the outer signs of the foreign East, playing with cliché — the gray costumes of old comrades, alcoholism of the KGB agents, the poverty of simple people — loses the point of criticism within the unbalanced picture between satirical and sincere representation of another culture. To defamiliriaze the Other,
or to parody something already foreign or distanced to the milieu the artist
is born in, it is necessary either to experience or to have a very clear
image of it in order to push it aside. The Soviet insanity has been very
distant either to American or to Canadian culture, which is immediately
striking in any theatrical re-production, even if it is based on the usage
of recognizable signs or stereotypes of the reality, making it almost a
mimetic representation of the portrayed subject. Thus, the immigrants'
reception was a rejection of the production due to the non-correspondence
between the signified and its signifier and lack of communication between
the text and its theatrical interpretation.
On the other hand, Toronto's English speaking critics and public received
Slavs very warmly, which again illustrates Vodicka's idea of the
dependence of aesthetic reception on the “communicative definiteness” (109)
of the work of art. “One and the same work can therefore leave completely
different impressions in the reader; each component encounters the reader's
artistic penchants of mood and experience, so that the entire work exists
in the reader's conception in an atmosphere of certain images” (Vodicka,
116).
The assimilation of the outsiders into another civilization may last
until their conscious rejection of the native language and cultural codes
and complete acceptance of those of a new environment. However, the unconscious
memory of aesthetic norms set up in person's youth will lead one to receive
any piece of art done in his/her native or foreign language according to
aesthetic norms obtained by the spectator in his/her home country. As Brodsky
expresses it: “People of our age are already formed beings, whether we
like it or not. The foundation and the initial speedup took place in the
fatherland. Our existence in Russia was the cause. Today you have an effect…”
(Brodsky, 183). This effect is always in the reflection of an original
culture on the new one.
WORKS CITED:
© Yana Meerzon
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TSQ 34
Toronto Slavic Annual 2003
Arkadii Shteinvberg. The second way
Roman Timenchik. Anna Akhmatova in 60s
Le Studio Franco-Russe
