Actress Dina Berdnikova has lived in London for 12 years. Throughout her life, she has lived and worked in Russia, Israel, and the U.S. Now, in London, she is involved in various projects, including Arbuzz, which encompasses readings, literary and artistic workshops, and solo performances. Sergey Karaban, an actor from the Brusnikin Workshop theater and a graduate of the Moscow Art Theatre School, has performed extensively in Russian cinema and theater and is now working in London as well—sometimes directing projects in which Dina performs. Together, this creative duo produces offline plays, online readings, and urban interactive performances.
Their latest work is the play Things by Ludmila Kovaleva, premiering on October 28 at The Playground Theatre. The play tells the story of how cherished items gain eternal life in a special museum, but for the museum to accept them, the owner must reveal everything about them. We talked to Dina and Sergey about the concept of things, loss and recovery, and learning to let go.
Arbuzz project
Interviewer: I’ll start by asking a question as a picky critic! I personally don’t agree with what I’m about to ask because I, in fact, treat things with great care and think they are important. The idea resonates with me. But… your play is called Things. Come on, why things? Shouldn’t we be thinking about the soul? The soul! Defend yourselves.
Sergey: We’ll defend ourselves. There’s something important behind each thing. I’ll ask you to think of an object that’s meaningful to you. Can you?
Interviewer: Of course.
Sergey: See? And if we unravel the thread of its history, this thing will probably lead you somewhere. Strangely enough. And so, there’s a large part of you in that object. In our play, an object is an important trigger, helping one person connect with another and with certain memories. The object becomes less of a mundane item and more of a conduit.
Interviewer: Like magic.
Sergey: Practically. That’s what we’re striving for. We’d love to seep into the magical world, but first and foremost, we’re talking about people. And nowadays, it seems to me, there’s no topic more important than people. There are many ways to start a conversation, and we decided to use things as our way in.
Interviewer: Objects unlock memories, bringing a person face to face with themselves—can this be a painful encounter?
Sergey: Often. I think a play, as an artistic piece with a beginning and end, and happening within a limited timeframe, is bound to be painful. So that something happens to the person. I often recall one of my teachers at the Moscow Art Theatre School who said that all the most interesting things happen outside the comfort zone. What tea you like, what meatballs you fry for dinner—this is all wonderful, and we should think about it because it’s an important part of life. But often, to uncover what we don’t know about ourselves, we need to enter an uncomfortable zone. So, we’ll have to place the protagonist, and Dina, who will play her, in that discomfort. We’re trying hard, believe me—we’re putting her through a lot, and there’s more to come. I’m not sure if she’ll be happy she agreed to do it.
Interviewer: Dina, do you have an object that’s meaningful to you?
Dina: Of course.
Interviewer: Will you bring it onto the stage, or will there just be props?
Dina: Even if I don’t physically bring it, I’ll certainly speak about my own things.
Interviewer: The play allows for that?
Dina: Absolutely. The character is close to me, the story is close, and so is the idea that through things, we can communicate with people we’ve lost touch with. Some people are still here, some are gone, and with some, you’ve lost contact. Often, even when there’s nothing left between you, you can’t throw away a gift. So, yes, I’ll definitely be talking about my own things too.
Interviewer: I have another question about things. In the UK, there’s a long tradition of charity shops, second-hand stores, and antique shops where things find new owners. How does that resonate with your play?
Sergey: Things donated to charity are often wonderful objects that still have life in them, and it’s great when someone picks them up and gives them a new meaning. In our play, however, we want these things to remain exactly as they are, just as we hand them over.
While analyzing Ludmila Kovaleva’s play, we noticed an interesting division of things. Imagine you’re moving far away—you have to sort through all your stuff. Some items you’ll want to give away, some to sell or pass to friends and relatives, some to donate. But there’ll be a few things you won’t know what to do with. You can’t sell them, and you can’t take them with you. These things may remind you of someone in a bittersweet way, and they’re tied to memories you’ve blocked. Through such an object, you can say goodbye to someone you never got to say goodbye to. You can’t throw it away or sell it. The playwright has come up with a museum where you can donate these objects for eternal safekeeping.
Dina: The museum is like giving an artifact into safe hands. It won’t be mistreated, discarded, or misused. It will be treated with love and respect.
Interviewer: Do you use charity shops yourself? Do you go there to buy, say, a shirt?
Sergey: Yes, when we produced our first show with Dina, A Children’s Christmas Story, the main sponsors of our costumes and props were three charity shops, where we found beautiful Christmas sweaters, red pants, and Dina’s orange suit.
Dina: Yes, we dressed the entire show head to toe. And of course, I often donate things to charity, hoping that someone will wear them and give them new life.
Poster of the performance “Things”
Interviewer: Over the past few years, many people have been forced to leave their homes,
leaving behind beloved things and moving elsewhere. These are difficult feelings to confront. Do you feel responsible for bringing people face-to-face with this pain and grief?
Dina: Yes, I think we’re talking about that too. Context is important. If you’re not trying to analyze the present and just staging something vague, then…
Sergey: …it’s not live theater. Whether you’re analyzing Shakespeare or something else, you’re doing it in the present. That’s a good question—do we have the right to talk about this? I think so because I left a year ago, so it’s about me, and about the people and things I hold dear. People often say, “There’s so much hardship around us, why not focus on something lighter?” But I think we already build plenty of barriers over time. Humans want to focus on the good and skim over the unpleasant.
Interviewer: Maybe it’s a defense mechanism, a way to survive?
Sergey: Absolutely. Otherwise, we would have burned out long ago. But real self-reflection lies in complex emotions. And it’s better to ask tough questions during a play when you can look at the answers from a distance, rather than bombard yourself with those difficult questions. Through the character or play, people can approach it more gently.
Dina: Responding to whether we have the right to address this, I’d say we’re not offering healing, we’re not saying we know the answers. It just hurts for us too. We offer the audience a chance to find some hopeful notes.
Sergey: There’s no definitive answer, and theater rarely provides one, but it asks the question. For us, theater is a dialogue. In the audience, you’re not alone. And maybe it’s not so bad to reflect on complex issues in good company.
Dina: And beyond the social relevance, this theme is universal. A 15-year-old in the audience might remember their mom saying, “You’re old enough to say goodbye to that teddy bear.” And the play will resonate with them, just as it will with someone who packed a single suitcase and left everything behind. They’ll sit in the same room, feeling different, but also somehow similar emotions.
Interviewer: Would you say you’re exploring the archetype of loss?
Sergey: Yes, I think so. Today, we have so many things that these important ones can sometimes get lost among them. Recently, Dina and I were doing a children’s walk-through play about the royal family, with an improvised knight’s tournament. Back then, things were simple—you had a horse, armor, and a home, and if you lost something like a scarf given by your beloved, it was a significant loss. But today, we can’t even understand why it’s so hard to part with a mountain of stuff. Objects often symbolize wealth or success, but then you realize, “I haven’t even used this—I don’t need it.” Yet we keep accumulating…
Dina: I’m sure that someone who moves from one place to another with just one suitcase will have two by the end of the month. How did that happen? It’s unclear. And that’s also part of the play. If, God forbid, someone is no longer with us, what happens to all the things they carefully collected? Should we laminate them because they’re part of the person? But we don’t even know what each item meant to them, and we can’t ask. Does that mean their possessions lose all value?
Interviewer: In that case, is a hoarder who endlessly collects things making their world smaller? Is it good or bad, or just a reality?
Sergey: I remember my friend’s grandmother obsessively hoarding things, saying, “This isn’t for me, it’s for you. You don’t need it now, but you will later!” Or the era of shortages in the Soviet Union, when people felt that everything might run out, and good things couldn’t be wasted. You couldn’t imagine that one day this beautiful Czechoslovakian wall unit would be available in stores whenever you wanted.
Interviewer: You invite the audience to bring objects that are meaningful to them, so the play is interactive?
Dina: Yes, if the audience wants to. First, we think the presence of personal items in the hall will start a nonverbal dialogue. Maybe we’ll even take one and place it in our on-stage museum. After the premiere, there will be an opportunity for the audience to stay and participate in a discussion, where they can share their thoughts if they wish. There’s also a simple physical aspect—carrying something with you all day, putting it in your bag. It starts the play earlier than the actual performance begins.
Sergey: And of course, those who think it’s all nonsense and don’t bring anything with them will still go home to their own things…
