I walk more than six miles a day in heels

Dear Mr. Harvey Fancy Paws,

Blogging is stressful.  There are too many things that I want to document and end up forgetting before I can get it all out.  Today is a Sunday, our one day off.  We are in the rehearsal studio in the basement waiting for everyone to arrive so we can work on Capusti party.  Capusti Party is similar to freshmen party – it’s a big drunken gathering to welcome the first years, and every class does a small show that lasts about ten minutes or less.  Apparently it’s a new thing that the Americans are included in this, and it's a huge honor…so here we are.  

Yesterday the Russian soccer team played Germany in an important match; Germany won, and everyone was all riled up.  We followed our Angels on an unreasonable trek to find a nightclub.  It ended with a very bad strawberry margarita for me.  It was basically just pink tequila.

Kirsten and I went to breakfast this morning.  I’ve told her like fifty times, but I think I’ll write it in the blog too; I’m so glad we both came to Russia.  We’ve been in such close proximity for so long, but we still probably would have never gotten to know each other had we not come to Moscow. I love her, she is the best. I love all my Ithacans. I love our ensemble.  Kenya deserves some mention too.  Love her, love her.

Did I write about Suzuki King Lear and Three Penny Opera? I can’t remember.  Three Penny Opera was perfect.  Obsessed.  What’s the point of me describing it? I can’t. It was just so, so good.  The cast was brilliant.

            Then there’s the Suzuki production of King Lear set in a mental institution.  I’ve never seen Suzuki Theater before.  It was honestly one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen on stage, it made me cry three separate times.  When I wasn’t crying about it, I was sitting on the edge of my seat all prickly with goose-bumps.  

            Yesterday morning we toured the MXT museum.  I stood in Stanislavski’s dressing room.  I saw the makeup he put on his face.  I stood in Nemerovich-Danchenka’s office.  Holy crap.  Our guide began the tour with a brief lecture; she told us (in Russian) how pleased she was that we had decided to study acting, but also how sorry she was for us.  It's interesting that in Russia, if you tell someone that you are an actor, they don't look at you like a crazy person or ask if you have a backup plan...they look at you with admiration.  If they pity you, it is not because you won't get work, it is because you have chosen to bare your soul on stage for the greater good every day of your life.  I chose the path I did, because I believe art can change the world.  I believe that theater serves a higher purpose, and it's so refreshing to finally be in a culture where people share this perspective.  

Our guide spoke briefly about what happened to MXT during the cold war, particularly during the time of Stalin.  I’ve heard the stories from my parents about their experiences during the cold war in America…but it is nothing, absolutely nothing compared to what went on here.  It almost makes me angry that America made such enemies out of the Russians when they were the ones suffering the most.   It’s impressive that the Moscow Art Theater endured.  Our guide told us a story: A young girl was asked what she wanted to with her life, to which she responded, “I want to be an actress.” As soon as she said it, two voices from heaven spoke to her.  One said, “You are a fool,” and the other said, “You are a saint.”  During the cold war, artists were easy targets.  People literally risked their lives to perform their duty as actors.  I can’t pretend that I have any idea what that means.  Obviously I’m not Russian and there is nothing in my life that is comparable to what artists went through during the Cold War.  But it makes me proud to call myself an artist.  

            I feel like I should tell you about Mariana. Mariana is the woman who is basically in charge of us.  I don’t think I’ve ever loved a person so instantly she.  Has a Russian face.  She looks angry, and when she actually is angry it’s the most terrifying thing in the world.  I wrote about how Mariana gracefully pulled me out of my shell within the first week; she’s full of wisdom and a desire to help her students, but also more sass than you would expect from her.  The other days she looked Justin in the eye and said, “I don’t know about you Ithaca boys. You all Liars. Too many waterfalls.”

            Oh, and the Starbucks girl! There is a Starbucks (of course) across from the school.  There is a pretty redhead named Anastasia, but she prefers to be called Amber.  She is brilliant…she speaks something like 8 different languages even thou she has never left Russia.  I’ve been consuming enough coffee to build some kind of friendship with her…even though she thinks my name is Lizzy.

So anyway, this coming week will involve lots of rehearsal and little sleep.  Tomorrow I am going to see Tartuffe. Yay! I think I'm also seeing Pillow Man this week. Da.

G'night

Hannah