Looking at different performances, I already go to the famous masters with caution: Suddenly, they are in the spirit of "modern trends" something such is rational, that you are not the fact that the flowers will be embarrassed to the stage, but all the first branch is just to be thoughtful, How soon to carry out the legs from here.
Link to classics in the poster has long ceased to be a guarantor of something. We and Onegin can have a ventilation, and the Turgenev girl copulate in humans ... Actors People undermineum. And the directors also do not want to stay without bread - here they give ...
And these "spectacles" are the same regular phenomenon of the modern theater, like bookcases in literature, stabilizers and flavors - in the food industry, Internet flirting - in love. We spend less - we get as much or more. And whether it is harmful to health - let the pathologist disassemble ...
But sometimes suddenly among the piles of fakes and substitutes are a natural product. And you understand that there is a yogurt low-fat and gentle, but some ... synthetic, but there is an apple curve, but donated by nature. And Czechs have a "ultramodern", unexpectedly daring, with red shorts on the head, just for the brain and for the soul - it is "zero of useful calories." And there are Chekhov, whom it is necessary to spiritually digest: to move the convolutions and that the heart muscle worked. But here, simple words, spoken by simple people (such as we ourselves and what hundreds of thousands around us), suddenly shock, or laugh, or wounded more than the whole army of the "Red Shit-Torch Halls". And we will finally see our own face, removing the mask, and we think: why are we we are such chameleons? Why do you dream about cheap glory and light money? Why so shamelessly indifferent to someone else's grief? Why are that awkward and impervious? Why don't you love yourself and do not understand the neighbor? And why do you want to somehow reassured our soul? ..
Yuri Lyubimov put just that, second Chekhov, collecting several stories at once. Probably, thanks to such performances, in due time, the country learned about Taganka and director Lyubimov.
Thanks to a well-thought-out "picture", the scene of the theater, like a mystical apartment in the "Master and Margarita", suddenly acquires completely unexpected measurements. Here, in the beam of the light, Dr. Chekhov - he sits on a cart with bags that the Sakhalin convict drags (already being sick tuberculosis, Anton Pavlovich traveled to Sakhalin Island, where he spent a private census of all the then population - completely exile). Here we are in the provincial courtroom: those engaged in their affairs of the Lord judges (which coat is a good and long one of the visitors, and what kind of face familiar with the other?) Casual, at the same time and the fate of the old man accused of killing his wife. Here is the paradise garden still hides Adam and Eve in Kouch, and already Cain is taking place at the gate of a slammed Eden and after the mother is ready to sin, listening to a cunning demon. Here is a fate-ferry with a crowd of parishioners pulls the rope to arrive to the shore. Here are two travelers talking about the inadmissibility of glory in a shaking train car, and it rushes herd to herd - a little more memorable, horses! .. That's where the light flashes the scene, and all new Chekhov characters appear in front of the viewer with their "small" Tragedies, comedies and tragicomedia. And in the center, a huge hand is towers - pointing finger, the signs of which each will read in their own way.
The director working with the classic is, after all, as a conductor: Maybe Mozart "Slot", and maybe so all the notes play out that the author's intention will definitely grab, and your own sound will give the work. The main thing is that we - the audience and listeners, fascinated by degreased yogurts and refined oil, did not turn out to be lost the skill of "digest" real food for the mind and for the soul ...