Real and Phantom Pains: An Anthology of New Russian Drama. John Freedman
abs in the descriptions alone. The characters’ names, from Snowstorm, Blizzard and Maniac to Snowflake, Orangina and Bushy-Tail, reveal the author’s fascination with, and affection for, swank and style.
Mukhina’s plays make a virtue of ambiguity. Her characters’ phrases are like the tips of icebergs in the sea, brief references to or, perhaps, attempts to obscure, what really matters. What really motivates a character may rarely, if ever, be articulated. There are often two or three dialogues unfolding at any single time. Phrases are broken off, sentences are interrupted, thoughts are abandoned in mid-flight. Mukhina’s is not linear dramatic prose, but rather a swirling constellation of dialogues, monologues, half-thoughts and dropped thoughts overlapping and interrupting one another. As they conjure the force of poetry, they illuminate each other in unexpected ways. This, incidentally, is the reason for Mukhina’s unorthodox punctuation, whereby she often skips periods or other framing grammatical conventions.
I am particularly fond of a claim Mukhina makes in the introduction to Flying. Even more than the claim, I am enamored of the way she makes it. After insisting she wrote the play according to the tenets of verbatim drama, basing her text on a long series of interviews (which, indeed, she did conduct), she adds that the play “contains not a single phrase of my own unless it is the odd stage direction or a simple explanatory phrase. Even the incident with the window and the dog is the whole truth and nothing but. Believe me. All of this is life, like rain in July; this wintery snow is for you.”
This is pure Mukhina as she sprinkles magic dust in your face. Trust the author at your peril. Trust the tale implicitly. If you get this, you begin to get the charm, the cunning, the playfulness, the beauty and the unblinking honesty of this writer’s vision.
Flying
By
Olga Mukhina
Translated by
John Freedman
Author’s Note: This text was created according to the principles of verbatim. That is, it is an entirely documentary play. It is sampled, so to speak, from 15 interviews. It contains not a single phrase of my own unless it is the odd stage direction or a simple explanatory phrase. Even the incident with the window and the dog is the whole truth and nothing but. Believe me. All of this is life, like rain in July; this wintery snow is for you.
My heartfelt thanks go to: Mikhail Krylov, Yury Kolokolnikov, Pavel Derevyanko, Zhanna Tserulite, Mikhail Parygin, Lyuba Tikhomirova, Tikhon Pendyurin, Fyodor Lyass, Mitya Firapontov, Ilya Maximov, Dima Zemchenkov, Sasha Musakhanov, Yevgeny Kamenkovich, Mamontova & Dorogutin, O. Naumova, O. Martyanova, Valentina Borisovna Fyodorova, Lyubov Anisimova, the residents of Podberyozye, Gorodishcha and all my friends.
– MUKHINA
CHARACTERS:
M
SNOWSTORM – a freelance DJ
BLIZZARD – a VJ and a streetfighting man
MANIAC – a promoter and BASE jumper
VOLODYA – a policeman
W
SNOWFLAKE – brunette, a vamp and a TV star
LENOCHKA – blonde, cute, a media-planner
ORANGINA – redhead, a glamorous beauty, a designer
BUSHY-TAIL – light-brown hair, waitress, a beauty, a virgin
Television studio employees, journalists, café clients, guests at the home of Maniac, people on the street, soldiers, dancers, “Yo-Yo” the pet dog.
PART ONE
FEAR
A large office at the BCH television studio flooded with light.
The BCH initials are on everything. Five people sit at five computers. MANIAC, who is a tall, handsome blond, ORANGINA, SNOWFLAKE, LENOCHKA and BLIZZARD, a psychedelic-trance star and a charming, short-statured young man of about 26 with the face of a child and child-like eyes to match. All of them are at work.
There is a sixth – a young man also of about 26 with the pale face of a cherub, as if he were created to give women insomnia. He sits on a sofa, wears large silver headphones and leafs through a magazine. A small yellow case stands at his feet. He occasionally puts down the magazine and moves about the room, dancing and looking around. This is his first visit here – he is a stranger. All are dressed in black or dark blue tight-fitting clothes. Only ORANGINA wears orange. LENOCHKA wears a T-shirt emblazoned with the text, “Fuck Face Control,” and she has a big, black eye. She constantly looks at it in her mirror, touches up her make-up, powders the shiner and brushes it with toner. SNOWFLAKE wears a black blouse printed with “Sin” in red letters. The red straps of her bra occasionally slip seductively off her shoulders. SNOWFLAKE takes tranquilizers three times a day and so is always very calm.
Music plays. People come and go, bringing things in, taking things out. The five sign papers. MANIAC stamps official documents, draws something, leafs through glossy magazines. It is as though all of them have stepped out of one of these magazines – they are young, hip and attractive. Someone fiddles with computer or stereo wires; someone else is looking through compact discs. MANIAC counts money. Someone wipes off a camera lens. Someone watches television; someone looks at a computer monitor. On some computer monitors we see the faces of SNOWFLAKE and BLIZZARD – their faces are also on magazine covers and advertising posters. On one of the computer screens we see the words of the TV station’s slogan running continually: “No Fear in Love.” Someone smokes in the corridor and peeks in the door. The teapot whistles; someone is making tea, someone else – coffee. Someone is sitting beneath a palm tree, others beneath an aquarium. A big gold fish swims in the aquarium. Some people are tired, others are sad and stare thoughtfully out the window. Outside the window there is snow, life, sun, blue clouds, cafes, cars, bustling people in scarves and winter hats.
MANIAC: The sensation reminds you of fear. You feel it between your solar plexus and your neck. Somewhere in the chest. You know it because you feel the desire to touch. You physically want to touch someone. To see, to hear, to smile and to be embarrassed.
BLIZZARD: It’s a chemical reaction.
MANIAC: Nobody can define why it happens at this very moment with this specific person. Every telephone ring sets you on fire, every time you go out you hope you will see them.
SNOWFLAKE: Nobody knows the secret.
LENOCHKA: The meeting of two parallel lines.
BLIZZARD: Nobody knows why it disappears.
ORANGINA: You try to get it back, but it’s not the same.
(They work silently. It’s obvious they’ve been working together forever; they’re a tight-knit, well-oiled crew, as if they are relatives or a band of small monkeys. They are constantly in motion, never sitting still, always doing something and they have no idea they are being observed. MANIAC likes SNOWFLAKE but SNOWFLAKE has all kinds of affairs going. She considers MANIAC a friend. BLIZZARD is smitten with ORANGINA, he directs his every word at her. She pretends not to notice; she likes SNOWSTORM. In fact, all the girls like SNOWSTORM, although maybe that’s only true because he’s the newest one here – they all want to be the first one to win him. LENOCHKA has a husband; he’s the one who gave her the black eye. She likes SNOWSTORM, too, but she is mortified because the shiner has made her less beautiful than she really is. All of them are extremely attractive; you want to look at them, to be next to them, to be their friends, to fall in love with them. Something about them gives off warmth, contentment, tranquility and a physical sense of pleasure.)
BLIZZARD: I had a girlfriend, a ballerina, and we used to buy things in pairs – unisex. That way both of you can always wear the same things.
LENOCHKA: It’s that easy?
BLIZZARD: Not really. When she dumped me she took everything. Even the sheets. When I tried to stop her