The Les Kurbas Theater of Lviv is a unique phenomenon not only in the national theater space of Ukraine but beyond. This non-commercial theatrical institution has proven itself as a cultural, methodological, and intellectual center. The winner of numerous prizes, this company has taken part in many prestigious theater festivals. Actors are the main driving force behind the theater’s elite character and uniqueness.
The well-known Ukrainian actor Oleh Stefan answers The Day’s questions on the eve of the 120th anniversary of the distinguished Ukrainian theater director of the 1920s Les Kurbas, which will be marked on Feb. 25.
CONTEMPORARY MEMBERS OF THE KURBAS THEATER
The Les Kurbas Theater appeared in your artistic biography after your work at the Kharkiv Theater. What led to your work with Volodymyr Kuchynsky?
My arrival at the Les Kurbas Theater is an old story. Actually, I have been working in Lviv for 10 years. I tried twice to work there. The first time, I worked in this theater for only a year, in 1990-91, after which I returned to Kharkiv. On my second attempt I stayed with this truly unusual theater for good; I have been working here since 1996. It is not just interesting to work at the Les Kurbas Theater, especially with Volodymyr Kuchynsky, because this theater may be regarded as a theater school, a theater of methodology and practice. All work is a kind of research: nothing that we perform on this stage appears accidentally, and each succeeding play serves as a continuation, supplementation, and, to some extent, an explanation of the previous one.
At the Les Kurbas Theater you play rather specific and wide- ranging roles — Socrates (based on Plato), Marko (based on Stus’s works). But all of them are united by a deep philosophical nature. To what extent does such material dictate its own “rules of the game”?
In general, we may say that any material, each new role teaches an actor by prompting certain rules of performance. For the most part, works offered for theatrical staging are not drama materials, and their complexity lies in the need for a specific interpretation. The usual laws of drama do not work in these types of performances. On the other hand, this explains their attractiveness: whereas during the first readings we only feel a certain direction of the research, later our work with these texts results in marvelous discoveries, and not just on a theatrical level, but personal as well; the process of getting to know your own nature takes place. And, of course, this cannot but evoke rather lively scenic provocations.
After Waiting for Godot was staged, art critic Nelli Kornienko compared you to the “sad-eyed clown” Polunin, and later the mass media took up this phrase. What is your general attitude to clowning, a type of theatrical art that Kurbas also liked?
A clown is a sort of arch-image, the source of the theater, and it may be much older than all the other theatrical images. That is the reason why clowning today serves as a very gratifying way to put across some philosophical maxims. To hear such a comparison from theater specialists and enjoy the attention of theater critics is very gratifying and important.
You have received a number of theater awards.
I have a positive attitude to prizes. If prizes are accompanied by monetary awards, this is also considerable support for actors. I can absolutely honestly call myself a person who is independent of material values; I do not strive for wealth. However, one should support actors sometimes because they devote themselves to seeking the ideal. But, again, I want to repeat: no prizes, no rewards can serve as a substitute for the praise of spectators and theater critics.
THE STANDARD TEACHER-PUPIL RELATIONSHIP DOES NOT WORK ANYMORE
You work as a lecturer. What is the first thing you teach future actors?
I do not consider myself a teacher, and I say this honestly to “my” actors. Everything I practice and offer to them has been said long before me by Chekhov, Kurbas, Hrotovsky, etc. Young people come to my classes, honestly trying to take in everything, because there is a long and complex way ahead of them, as well as much pain and many trials. But I am very pleased that today’s young people are responding openly to information and are capable of collaborating, which is what I actually look for when I teach. That is why the standard teacher-pupil relationship does not work. We have a lot to learn from youth.
I can say the same thing about the young spectator who is also apprehending serious and even rather complex material. Sometimes, a considerable part of the audience at our performances, which are based on the lyrical texts of Vasyl Stus or Hryhorii Skovoroda, consists of young people who are still studying. When the performance ends, there is a five-minute pause. There is no applause, which means that the young people are thinking; complex work of thought, heart, and spirit is going on — this is exactly what we try to encourage.
Which Ukrainian stage directors impress you the most? With whom would you like to work? What roles would you still like to perform?
First of all, I would like to say that I am open to proposals from any stage director; I am ready for experiments and quests. However, I would like to continue collaborating with Kuchynsky. Maybe I would like to perform in a play by Andrii Zholdak, who uses textual structures in an original way. Klim is also interesting for me. The main thing is to shape something, force time “to distort.”
As for roles, I think they were given by God. It is what an actor is granted by a higher power. All you have to do is feel this blissful moment. I was once invited to take part in a Kyiv art action, to recite Ivan Franko’s poem “Ivan Vyshensky.” I was so busy at the time that I wanted to refuse. But when I started reading the text, I understood that I did not have any right to ignore it. I can say the same thing about Zahadkovi Variatsii (Mysterious Variations), a play in which I performed opposite Bohdan Kozak. These are more than simply roles. As for dreams, for some reason I think most often about the role of King Lear. Perhaps I now have something to say.