Ba- BOOSH- ka: A traditional Russian headscarf, typically worn in bad weather.
BAH- bush-ka: A traditional Russian grandmother, typically wearing a headscarf.
We've begun our classes, the other American school has arrived, and I have stopped shouting, "Scarf!" whenever I see a cute old woman. The semester is officially underway.
The past few days have been chilly and drizzly, but I rather enjoy seeing the city dressed up in colorful umbrellas and street lamps. So far. Word in the yard is that this meteorological trend will continue until the rain turns into snow, and our nerves into paste. I must admit, I'm a bit jittery at the idea of endless gray skies. I've always maintained that bleak weather, like Emily Dickinson, is good for the soul, but this beautiful summer has made me a sunshine junkie.
Our professors are as follows:
Movement:
Known as "Mad Vlad," Vladimir is an eccentric middle-aged Russian man who has promised to teach us to fly (I believe him). He also tells us, "It is torture, yes? Smile!" I appreciate his honesty. I've had movement teachers who insist that the excruciating pain I'm experiencing should be pleasant and lovely, which makes me question whether or not I'm doing the exercise/stretch correctly. Vlad's class is currently my favorite. I'll let you know when the cool Russian gymnastics begin.
Singing:
Alla has been vocal director for some major commercial musicals in Russia. Mamma Mia, Cats, the like. She's a strict woman, but very pretty and quite sweet, in her own way. She's teaching us a method of breathing that directly contradicts what I've been learning; I'm going to comply fully so's I can compare results. My first song is, "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes." I'm one of the lucky ones. Many are singing glorified ABBA songs.
Acting:
Misha, as he is lovingly known by his students, is a smiley little man who has been teaching at MXT for forty years. His famous catch phrases are, "Streeeeetch out. Like a beeeeeeg kyet," and "I keel you! I keel you now! But not really." I am going to hold off on acting class descriptions for now. There will be plenty later. It's the only class we have six days out of seven.
We will also take fencing, stage combat, Russian language, history of Russian theater, Rooskie cinema history, and scene design, but they'll come later in the week.
Last night, we watched a MXT showcase of the second-year students. It ranged from very intricate clockwork doll imitations (more on this later) to lip-syncing songs from Sister Act in black-face. Yikes, right? We Americans were quite squirmy during that one. On the whole, it was a lot of broad comedy. After two hours, I was finding less and less funny, but the energy was full and honest and the performers committed to their scenes with total abandon. For example, during one of the other racially charged scenes, a skinny blond girl and a skinnier Justin Beiber-haired young man performed what I'm sure was a horribly offensive re-enactment of an Indian snake charmer/street performer, complete with turban. Although it did seem mean-spirited, the two flailed around so wildly and so unattractively that I couldn't help but respect their complete lack of self-consciousness.
Another cute little girl was a bulldog... you know that sneezing sound bulldogs make when they're excited or eating? Like, "snnnRUFF.. snnnnnnRUFF," if I had to guess phonetically. She had it DOWN. She sidled into the room, black baseball socks on her arms and panty-hose on her head, each leg knotted to look like an ear, and went AT this stick. I think she actually ate some of the bark. The rest she shredded. Then she watched some cars and sat down really heavily, finally falling asleep. It was unbelievable. Another moment that stuck with me was a scene between two muscly teen-aged boys in large, padded coats, portraying sticky-faced toddlers in the snow. I don't think I can explain it too well, but without being cheesy or fake, they depicted believable and adorable babies.
The pièce de résistance, in my opinion, came in the form of a German cuckoo clock (or maybe some sort of music box. Not sure what the assignment was). It was so poignant that it deserves a tense change, from past to present. That's how it's replaying in my mind anyway.
It starts with a picture frame, created by the strategic arrangement of two pieces of black plywood and two wide strips of light blue cloth around a young Russian woman and man. The underscoring is simple and childish, like a wind-up toy. The two move with incredible precision. Their faces remain totally blank, eyes glazed, limbs and head jerky, undeniably mechanical. They hug (or bump torsos and arms) and the young man produces a flower that he thrusts at the girl, who smashes it into her face. The two sink beneath the blue sheet. The lights go out. A second later, the lights come back up on the same two. The woman is pregnant, the man in uniform. They kiss, he lowers his head to her stomach, they hug, she waves, then they sink again. After every segment of their lives, they roughly face the audience for a brief second before disappearing. Lights out, lights up on the woman, not so young anymore, with a black scarf around her head and a baby in her arms. She heaves the baby back and forth, then turns, as she had before, to where the man would have been. She wrenches herself back to us and sinks down. Lights out, up on the woman, old now, and a young man in uniform. The woman's face is completely blank, but her eyes are a little wider and tears are streaming down her cheeks. She hugs the young boy, kisses him, hugs him again, and raises her hands to her unchanging mouth in unmistakable horror. They turn out to the audience. Lights out for good this time.
The girl in this scene was used in many of the etudes (etude means "study" in French or something. We use it in class to describe the work we do that isn't scripted or organized). She is probably the most talented actor I've ever seen.
This was long, huh.
Some Russian girls wear their hair in a bun on the top of their head. It's called a top-knot. It's not okay. They also (and this is both genders) wear some kind of legging/hammer-pants/diaper hybrid with a really low crotch and baggy thighs, but incredibly tight calves. Even less okay.
But red lipstick is in.
Love you.
