Medals, prestigious titles, awards, and the keys to two apartments were granted by government representatives during the jubilee soiree of the Ivan Franko Ukrainian National Academic Theater. Much as the recipients appreciated them, it was nothing compared to the affectionate response this youthful and indefatigable drama company received from its audiences. Behind the skits, meant to teach people to take on life with a smile rather than simply amuse, was the awareness of the actor’s responsibility, a responsibility bordering on superstitious fear.
An actor is often forced to pay with bitter daily realities for the joy of creating characters and living others’ lives on stage.
It was probably the keen perception of this dialectic that led to the Franko company’s guidelines:
— the right to leave the mystery of creativity to the Lord;
— sober and critical attitude to one’s own skills;
— understanding the theater as a temple in which one does not have to tiptoe with an air of self-importance, exhibit submissiveness to one’s senior colleagues, or put up with the privileges of “heroes” and the subservience of the rank-and-file;
— uphold self-irony, regardless of one’s status, and remain sincere and open-hearted.
This is not just the actor’s lifestyle but a tradition of the Franko company.
I have been attending this temple for the past fifty years, since I was in first grade. I was accepted as a pupil by the celebrated Ukrainian stage director, Serhii Danchenko, who was in charge of the Franko Theater for twenty years and brought it to international level, remaining in this capacity for three years. I have since never stopped marveling at this company’s harmony, its stable yet ever-changing manner.
The brilliant Ukrainian actor, Bohdan Stupka, has been the company’s artistic director for the past decade. He has preserved and asserted the stage director’s code of ethics, handed down by his friend and colleague Danchenko. It is very important for him to find those stage directors who can meet Danchenko’s standard, while keeping in touch with current events.
This explains the contracts with the world-famous Georgian director Robert Sturua and Ukrainian colleagues whom destiny has placed outside Ukraine. Such creative meetings invariably teach lessons about one’s concept of life and that of others in different social, economic, and political realities.
All this is done to be able to perceive the shades and meanings of eternity, convert them into emotional messages capable of transforming the dialog between the cast and the audience into an instant of reunion of past, present, and future. Unsurprisingly, scenes from Faust were included into the program of the soiree.
One can learn the secrets of the soul only through work of the soul. I am glad I don’t have to render a detailed analysis of the productions and roles to prove the presence and scope of this work. It knocks directly at the viewer’s heart. I applaud the 150 members of the cast and 300 people who work backstage, all members of the Ivan Franko Theater.
Oleksii Kuzhelny is the artistic director of the Suziria Academic Drama Studio in Kyiv