Russians, like everyone else, need help once in a while. But, helping a Russian, they say, is like trying to save a drowning man who won’t give you his hand. I have surely had that experience at times. It is a pathetic experience, and so often one that I have a hard time getting past.
We all live in the same world and are here to help each other. But, the Russian often questions the motive of the one offering his hand. Once I had visiting me a man of notable achievements in the Russian film world. I had a contact in Hollywood who I offered to introduce to him. His response was, “Why would he want to help me?” The presumption was, of course, that the other man has his only his interest solely in mind. As Russia moves into the larger global stage, the individual will realize that, in addition to self-interest, there is a great value is simply helping others when its needed. That way, one finds his place in the global world of mutually beneficial relationships where things get done on trust.
How to work successfully with Russians, in these changing times, is covered from different angles in my book “Walking on Ice, An American Businessman in Russia.”
Buy here “Walking on Ice, An American Businessman in Russia”
In the Moscow home of the famous Russian actress, Maria Yermalova, I heard a short talk on the play “The Mechanical Piano” by Oleg Tabakov based on Chekhov. It was in the late 1990s. The expert speaker was Sergei Ostrovsky, himself from a famous theatrical family. He was then an intelligent and unassuming young student of theater history studying at Tufts University near Boston. His mother was curator of the Yermalova home, which is now a Theatrical Museum.
Tabakov, he explained, was one of the rebellious writers who, during Khrushchev’s time, broke loose from state cultural control and brought new life into Russian theater. In times of Stalinist control, Chekhov and other great writers were performed according to official interpretation, and not according to the interpretation of the directors and actors, or even the intent of the author. The Maly Theater, one of Russia’s leading theatrical institutions, was known only for its state approved productions, especially of Chekhov―the presentations being boringly proper. Tabakov, he told us, was one of those out to break the mold.
Tabakov chose to write a play based on a drama by Chekhov, written by that great Russian author at eighteen. It was apparently Chekhov’s first play, overly long, full of everything he ever dreamed to put into a play―crashing trains and dancing gypsies. When he brought it to Maria Yermalova for an opinion, she told him it was terrible. He burned it saying the worse day of his life would be the day the play was put on the stage. He never even gave it a name, but it is commonly called “Platonov” after the main character. But a second copy of that play survived. It resurfaced, modified as a movie by Nikita Mikhalkov in 1977 – “An Unfinished Piece for a Mechanical Piano.” Three hours long and according to some Russians, one of the best films ever made. The story became the basis for a shorter stage play now also called, “The Mechanical Piano.”
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Tags: Chekhov, Maly Theater, Mikhalkov, Ostrovsky, Platonov, Russian film, Russian theater, Tabakov
Books by Fred Andresen, Literature, Russian Life, The Arts, The writing process, Uncategorized, Walking on Ice | fred | 
January 10, 2010 6:13 pm | 
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