{"id":34129,"date":"2024-09-15T22:29:08","date_gmt":"2024-09-15T21:29:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/?p=34129"},"modified":"2026-01-14T04:26:52","modified_gmt":"2026-01-14T04:26:52","slug":"in-a-white-crown-of-roses","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/in-a-white-crown-of-roses\/","title":{"rendered":"In a White Crown of Roses"},"content":{"rendered":"

The dialogues \u2013 the last words before a conviction is pronounced \u2013 were collected and turned into a stage text by Anna Narinskaya. Specifically, a stage text, not a play \u2013 we will return to this point later.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Scene from the play \u201cThe Last Word,\u201d directed by Maxim Didenko, 2024<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

On stage, there are two performers: actress Alisa Khazanova, who plays all the women who appear, and Ivan Ivashkin, a silent being who undergoes a monstrous journey from a newborn baby, covered in blood and breathlessly screaming in a silent cry, to an adult, dressed in the green uniform of state power. This character is depersonalized to the extreme, stripped of any distinguishing features. He is the baby in general, a mere organism, not an individual but a mass.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Jerky, meaningless movements of crooked little legs raised upward, a wide-open mouth screaming, trembling fingers spread apart \u2013 gradually, these reflexive convulsions transform into a macabre dance. In the finale, he finds his voice \u2013 just for a few phrases, but it\u2019s enough. The rough, official intonations of the voice convey: <\/span><\/span>\u201cYou\u2019re not allowed here, not there, keep moving!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

On the stage are a stool, a pitcher, a basin, and a draped swaddling cloth with which the woman wraps the baby. The actress then slowly washes her feet and the newborn\u2019s body from the pitcher, and the audience physically shivers from the tangible cold of the water pouring over the skin. Brrr. Goosebumps.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The entire hour-long performance is built on this empathy, this shared suffering. Let us remind you again that the texts are not a play, not a product of the author\u2019s imagination, but pure documentary \u2013 recordings of the final words of female defendants from the last few years in Russia. There is one historical reference, a time arc \u2013 an excerpt from the recordings of Natalia Gorbanevskaya, a dissident who protested against the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968 on Red Square.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Scene from the play \u201cThe Last Word,\u201d directed by Maxim Didenko, 2024<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The same tone, the same vocabulary, the same hopelessness.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Documentary theatre is a monstrously complex and very painful genre, transporting the real words of living people into the theatrical space and transforming reality into an act of art.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Numerous video projections from several cameras (one of them attached to the Baby\u2019s head) overlap each other, appearing on the curtain and backdrop, flickering, confusing the audience, and enhancing the reality.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

One by one, figures of condemned women in prison, within their unchanged environment for decades, appear before us. Water, sheets, a metal bowl with crushed bread, and finally \u2013 an industrial sewing machine that emits a terrifying low sound, in which even the usual needle tapping is unrecognizable. It could have been a cozy, homely sound, but in reality \u2013 it\u2019s a low, icy whistle, frightening and merciless.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Woman, woman in a gray kerchief, what are you sewing for them? \u2013 A prison. Well, almost. In reality, she is sewing the very uniform the growing baby will wear.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Scene from the play \u201cThe Last Word,\u201d directed by Maxim Didenko, 2024<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The combination of this artistic visual sequence and the documentary texts creates a strange sensation of madness. In an impeccably calculated rhythm and staging, down to the tilt of the head, real stories of truly suffering people are embedded within a highly stylized, artificial performance.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The last words in court do not become monologues, they do not turn into a play\u2019s text, but from their collision with the staged space, they sound even more monstrous, even scarier.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

In the finale, during the last monologue, the actress stands motionless, holding in her arms \u2013 or rather, on her arms \u2013 that same white cloth, covered in red spots, and this scene most closely resembles Michelangelo\u2019s <\/span><\/span>Piet\u00e0<\/span><\/span>. It must be said that <\/span><\/span>piet\u00e0<\/span><\/span> is a multi-meaning term. It represents pity, compassion, and, broadly speaking, Christian love. And here, there is no anger or rage; this barefoot woman with loose hair is not an Erinyes but a grieving mother.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Christian motifs are very important for the play, and in parallel to them, Natalia Gorbanevskaya’s poetry is recited:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

“Who walks there under escort,<\/span><\/span> <\/span><\/span>In a white crown of roses?<\/span><\/span> <\/span><\/span>The muffled howl of the blizzard<\/span><\/span> <\/span><\/span>Answers the question.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The baby stands on its feet, grows up, and dons the uniform, but the weight of the cap with the state crest is too heavy for him. He holds it, trembling from the strain and breathing hoarsely, and finally collapses under its unbearable weight.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The finale of the play is false \u2013 across the curtain, an endless stream of names, articles, and charges flows by, and there seems to be no end to them.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Suddenly, the stage lights come on again, and the actress, leaning against the backdrop, reads almost expressionlessly from a piece of paper a poem by Zhenya Berkowitz:<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

“And they say to her: don\u2019t shout, girl,<\/span><\/span> <\/span><\/span>Everything has already been decided without you.<\/span><\/span> <\/span><\/span>Start preparing more bread for tomorrow,<\/span><\/span> <\/span><\/span>Let the water settle into wine.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span>There’s nothing you can do here, mother:<\/span><\/span> <\/span><\/span>In time, Judas will betray, and Herod will feast.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The play <\/span><\/span>“The Last Word”<\/span><\/span> leaves the audience with no hope. The transparent curtain that was never fully raised remains a painting, covered in patina.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The play will continue until September 21<\/em><\/p>\n

Tickets<\/a>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

At the Marylebone Theatre, the London premiere of director Maxim Didenko’s play “The Last Word” was performed.<\/p>\n

Behind a transparent curtain, creating an effect of a hazy patina of antiquity, the action unfolds, built on modern documentary texts, references to Butoh dance, and encoded citations from world art. “The Last Word” is a performance, but even more so, it is an unclassifiable act of art.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":34130,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[86],"tags":[],"type_post":[],"column":[],"class_list":["post-34129","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-culture"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34129","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=34129"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34129\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":60026,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34129\/revisions\/60026"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/34130"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=34129"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=34129"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=34129"},{"taxonomy":"type_post","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/type_post?post=34129"},{"taxonomy":"column","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/column?post=34129"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}