Tonight, I attended two spectacles in two of St. Petersburg’s finest art venues: The Tovstonogov Bolshoi Drama Theater, and the Mariinsky Ballet.
At the first venue, I had the pleasure of watching Ostrovksiy’s Groza (The Storm), which originally premiered in 1859. The reason for reading and then attending this play is a fun story: earlier in the term, in Moscow, I read and then attended a performance of Woe from Wit at the Maliy Theater with our program leader, Professor Diane Ignashev. In front of the Maliy there is a statue to Alexander Ostrovskiy, which I asked professor Ignashev about. Ostrovskiy’s plays were most often performed there, and he was Russia’s leading playwright during his career. So, I received the opportunity to see this performance as part of the cultural curriculum of my Petersburg sojourn.
The Storm was controversial upon its release for several reasons, among which were its critique of Russia’s detached aristocracy (a common theme among 19th century Russian plays, I have found) and its dealing with women’s sexuality. Katya, the heroine of the play, falls in love with another man despite being married, albeit to a terrible partner. Her husband is a hilarious figure in the staging of the play: he speaks only in whiney tones and commands the maturity of an 8-year old. He is loyal to his mother to the point of being her slave and fails excuse anything she does, even if it’s at the expense of Katya, who is so gentle to the point that she is willing to take the abuse. Further adding to Katya’s torment is the fact that she cannot comprehend her best friend and confidante, who apparently speaks another language. The characters and the execution of the plot are funny and entertaining. Most striking of all, however, is the play’s experimental atmosphere.
Throughout its entirety, there are three jester-like figures who stand on either end of the stage with their mouths open and their hands shaking the entire time. Only rarely do they make a peep and, if they do, it is incomprehensible. They serve to introduce characters who come onto the stage via catwalks beginning in the rear of the auditorium, which add a whole other physical dimension to the stage and make us feel as if we are more a part of the show. The jesters are an inquisitive addition the play, as they play no major role but they are sometimes difficult to train your attention away from. I still wonder why Ostrovskiy placed them there. The transitions during the play were also unlike anything I had seen in Russian drama performances. There was always loud disjointed music, characters and extras running back and forth across the stage, and a lot of smoke, which created an appearance of chaos and disjointedness. The purpose of this eludes me, but it drew me in every time because of its curiosity.
Overall, The Storm is a fascinating play worth reading to anyone who is a fan of performing arts or creative literature. As a stage performance, Ostrovksiy’s work is marvelous and feels ahead of its time even in 2019 for its experimental and chaotic visual aesthetic but beautifully woven plot and characters. The Storm is one of the most impressive plays I have seen to this day.