Caucasian chalk circle Sturua. Bertolt Brecht: Caucasian chalk circle. An excerpt characterizing the Caucasian chalk circle

From Maya Mamaladze’s article “Robert Sturua” in Teatral magazine (2008):

“The global boom around the name Sturua began in 1975 with the play “The Caucasian Chalk Circle” by Brecht, which became the hallmark of the theater. A performance that looks absolutely alive to this day and is even more relevant today than in the year of its premiere. Some of its original performers have died, others continue to play their role to this day. But there is one who is categorically irreplaceable - the great Chkhikvadze. He is no longer a member of the troupe due to severe heart disease and rarely, but still comes to play one role on stage - Judge Azdak.

From the torn white cocoon in which the artist Mirian Shvelidze swaddled “Kvarkvare”, all of Sturua’s productions are encapsulated in a speaking artistic form. Thus, in the “Chalk Circle”, a real scenographic revelation were the finds of Georgiy Aleksi-Meskhishvili - rags hanging from the grates, something between a spider’s web and cart wheels, a dummy horse, a sacrificial lamb on a stand with wheels, studded with Easter candles. “The Circle” began Sturua’s constant creative symbiosis and personal friendship with Gia Kancheli, now one of the best composers in the world, then the head of the musical department of the Rustaveli Theater.”

From the interview “Robert Sturua about the artists and work on the play “Caucasian Chalk Circle” in Rossiyskaya Gazeta (2008):

“You always prepare for certain main moments, milestones from which you start, pointers to what you have in mind. By the way, then these signs must be destroyed - or they themselves collapse after the first rehearsal. I somehow imperceptibly became very close to my artists. We think almost the same way now. More precisely, they think as I thought twenty years ago. Now I’ve begun to approach performances somehow differently, sometimes even repeating myself. But they suddenly find some moves that I once invented, and we pick up the notes - yes, here they are, my ideas. Sometimes they tell me that I am a difficult and proud person. But the director, in principle, must forget about pride and pride once and for all, I think so.

– On the “Culture” TV channel, your play “Caucasian Chalk Circle” is being shown for your anniversary. What does it mean to you now? Has anything changed in your attitude towards him after all this time?

– Now it evokes nostalgia first of all, because it is no longer the same as before. He seems to have aged along with me. Well... you can guess what he was like. It's like old, crumbling frescoes that look better than when they were new, not crumbling, intact. Sometimes this antiquity, the patina of time, gives its own aesthetics to a thing. For the same Venus de Milo - you could have attached her hands back, but that would have been something else, it would have been kitsch. However, I wrote several small essays for my anniversary, and here is one of the theses - I ask you to never talk to me about the “Caucasian Chalk Circle”.

From an interview with Robert Sturua in the magazine “Itogi”:

– You brought to Moscow your long-standing legendary performance of 1975 “Caucasian Chalk Circle”, which was recently revived. Has he changed in any way since then?

– I didn’t change anything in it. I don’t remember it very well at all; the actors who appeared in it know it better. I don’t fully understand what the secret is. I am pleased that he is so liked that he is still alive, unless, of course, the viewer is under the impression of the word “legend”. I’d rather remain silent, I’ll just say that I’ve had better performances. At least that's what I think. But they died, and he lives.

From E. Etkind’s article for the book “Bertolt Brecht. Theater. Plays. Articles":

“The play “Caucasian Chalk Circle” was written by B. Brecht in two months in 1945 and revised in 1953–1954. first published in 1948 in the journal Sinn und Form and the final edition in the collection Versuche, Heft 13, Aufbau-Verlag, Berlin, 1954. Russian translation - S. Apta - published in the book: B. Brecht, Plays, M. , "Art", 1956.

The idea of ​​the play dates back to the twenties, when Brecht saw at the Lessing Theater in Berlin the ancient oriental drama “The Chalk Circle”, processed by Klabund (1890–1928). Only almost a quarter of a century later did Brecht write a prose work in which he used the plot processed by Klabund: in 1948 the short story “The Augsburg Chalk Circle” was published (BadenBaden, Das goldene Tor, III, I, S. 80–92).<...>

As another plot source, we should mention the well-known biblical parable about the court of King Solomon, who ordered the baby to be cut with a sword and given half to each of the women laying claim to him: this is how he discovered the real mother, who opposed this murder and was ready to give up the child in favor his rival. In Brecht, both plots turned out to be significantly reworked: in both the short story and the play, the real mother is recognized not as the one who is connected by blood ties with the child, but as the one who raised and educated him. Genuine human relationships are more important than formal kinship - this is Brecht’s idea.”

Caucasian chalk circle by B. Brecht at the Mayakovsky Theater
Not that it was unexpected for Brecht, but it turned out that this play is a crime drama, a military tragedy, and also optimistic and lyrical. The theater turned out to be long and fascinating at the same time. It’s nice to see a coherent plot on stage without obvious flaws, seams and ineptitude, which we often see under the guise of modern drama.
There's a lot of interesting stuff here. For example,
I. Kostolevsky is a star. And, as is typical for stars, it outshines much nearby. But not all.
His Azdak is an excellent judge, a good drunkard, a virtuous clerk and a charming thug. He is tall and charming, wearing light-colored clothes. It is clear that the decision of such a judge will be correct. We trust him completely. But by the time it comes to the point, not only the whole life will have passed, but probably half the life of the heroes, in terms of significance.
Olga Prokofieva (in the role of Mother-in-law) cannot be outshone. She is fire and flame, a bright character. Suddenly, after all the serious cheers, a comic couple was formed - mother and son, and indeed, all this was terribly funny: a wedding theme with a funeral theme. The scene in the bath is unforgettable. Actor Alexey Fursenko sat in the bathtub, being a fake husband, and enchantingly amused the audience, with or without clothes.
The main character is Grusha, played by Yulia Solomatina.
The young characters are more boring for some reason. Both Grusha and her fiancé Simon Khakhava (Evgeniy Matveev). Boring and touching, they put you to sleep. It’s good that Grusha is wearing a red dress, it suits her, makes her stand out and her eyes don’t close. Grushe is the most important figure here. Poor girl, a responsible servant, beautiful and well-behaved, resilient and devoted.
How a mother defeats a bio-mother in court. The governor's wife, Daria Poverennova, is a negative heroine, but she has rights. For blood is not like water.
Well, it happens that it’s just water, or even urine, in general.
This is what this cool play tells us about.
She allowed us to cry (because this is sensitive, the fate of children) and laugh (Olga Prokofieva and Alexey Fursenko, bravo!) and hope for justice even in our world.

Healthy

Performance based on the play by Bertolt Brecht. I didn’t know this work and wanted to see it at least from an informational point of view. Besides, Brecht and the Caucasus are not the most obvious combination, despite the fact that I love the Caucasus very much! But still, the Caucasus here is more of an exotic scenery and local flavor, which the actors play out with pleasure. The story itself, in general, could have happened anywhere. Power changes, old rulers are killed, new ones come. But life goes on. And how to raise a little man abandoned by his own mother in this chaos? And to top it all off, Solomon's judgment. But the play is still about love, there is salvation in it, it is eternal.

It’s difficult to call the performance easy. There are many events, and difficult events. Funny moments give way to tragic ones. Either a parable or a road story.
How not to remember the ancient Japanese “curse” - so that you live in an era of change. It is in times of turmoil that it is difficult to maintain a human face, and sympathy and kindness can backfire. “My house is on the edge” and in general it’s difficult to categorically condemn those who do this..

But also a lot of the same music. What is it like in the Caucasus, without music?!!
The whole orchestra is involved in the performance - “Round Band”. I love this very much! And here celebration and sorrow always go hand in hand. Even the music is either a bravura funeral march or a subdued, incendiary wedding dance. Well, you never know where the situation will lead.
So the characters also sing! Most of all I remember Grusha's voice - very soulful. But music made its way even in unexpected places. For example, who would have thought that even a scream would be woven into traditional polyphony :-)))))
Interesting multi-level scenography. And the high scenery - either the nobles in the palace above the plebeians shows, or the height of the mountainous area.

An absolutely wonderful performer in the leading role of Grusha, Yulia Solomatina. So reverent, worried, real, but also with character! And what hair! And what a voice - it sings very soulfully!
Solomon really liked the judge Azdak Igor Kostolevsky. He is just like Solomon from the parable. A sage from oriental tales. And how fitting is the lordly representativeness of Kostolevsky himself. Even when he takes off his stinking shoes, he doesn’t lose his self-confidence. And not rabid self-confidence, but quite a consciousness of knowledge about the world. At some moments he completely went into some buffoonish moments. But who is the wisest and fairest here is still obvious. And the burden of responsibility weighs heavily, because he understands it, this responsibility. Bright and cool! The second act is basically a benefit performance for Azdak.
It turns out that day was the debut of Evgeny Matveev in the role of Simon Khakhava. I can’t say that the role is big. but important. And in this short period of time it was necessary to show that he was worthy of the love of such a wonderful girl as Grusha. And he coped with this role! I even regret that there was so little of him.
Olga Prokofieva was wonderful, albeit in a small but bright role of the Mother-in-law. Such a wonderful housewife!
I also remember the “presenter”, sorry “voice of the author” Arkady Chkheidze - Sergei Rubeko. And how coolly he “voiced” all sorts of moments!
Classic scum corporal Vyacheslav Kovalev. Nasty beyond belief! and that's a compliment, if anything!
Dying husband - Alexey Fursenko. The scene in the bathroom is, of course, enchanting and borderline hooligan!
I liked Roman Fomin both as a clumsy soldier and as a self-confident candidate for the role of a judge.

Brecht Berthold

Caucasian chalk circle

Bertolt Brecht

Caucasian chalk circle

In collaboration with R. Berlau

Translation by S. Apt

CHARACTERS

The old peasant is on the right.

Peasant woman on the right.

Young peasant.

A very young worker.

The old peasant is on the left.

Peasant woman on the left.

Woman agronomist.

Young tractor driver.

Wounded soldier.

Other collective farmers and collective farmers.

Representative from the capital.

Arkady Chkheidze - singer.

His musicians are great.

Giorgi Abashvili - governor.

Natella is his wife.

Mikhail is their son.

Gogi is an adjutant.

Arsen Kazbeki is a fat prince.

A horse messenger from the city.

Niko Mikadze |

Mikha Loladze |

Simon Hakhava - soldier.

Grusha Vakhnadze - ship!wash.

Three architects.

Four maids.

Cook.

Servants in the governor's palace.

The men-at-arms and soldiers of the governor and the fat prince.

Beggars and petitioners.

Old peasant selling milk.

Two noble ladies.

Innkeeper.

Worker.

Corporal.

Armor "Cudgel".

Peasant woman.

Three merchants.

Lavrentiy Vakhnadze is Grusha's brother.

Aniko is his wife.

Their workers.

The peasant woman is Grusha's temporary mother-in-law.

David is her son, Grusha's husband.

Guests at the wedding.

Azdak is the village clerk.

Shalva is a policeman.

The old fugitive is the Grand Duke.

Nephew of Arsen Kazbeki.

Extortionist.

The owner of another inn.

Tamara is the owner's daughter-in-law.

Owner's employee.

Poor old peasant woman.

Irakli is her brother-in-law, a bandit.

Three fists.

Ilo Shuboladze |

) lawyers.

Sandro Oboladze |

A very old married couple.

Valley dispute

Destroyed Caucasian village. Among the ruins, collective farmers are sitting in a circle, drinking wine and smoking - delegates from two villages, most of them women and elderly men. There are also several soldiers. A representative came to them from the capital

state commission for economic restoration.

Peasant woman on the left (shows). Over there, in the foothills, we detained three fascist tanks, but the apple orchard had already been destroyed.

The old man is on the right. And our dairy farm! Only ruins remain!

Young tractor driver. It was I who set the farm on fire, comrade.

Representative. Listen now to the protocol. A delegation from the Ashkheti sheep-breeding collective farm arrived in Nuku. When the Nazis were advancing, the collective farm, at the direction of the authorities, drove its herds to the east. Now the collective farm is raising the question of re-evacuation. The delegation familiarized itself with the state of the area and found that the destruction was very great.

The delegates on the right nod affirmatively.

The neighboring fruit-growing collective farm named after Rosa Luxemburg (addressing those sitting on the right) makes a proposal to use the former pastures of the Ashkheti collective farm for fruit growing and viticulture. This land is a valley, the grass there is bad. As a representative of the restoration commission, I propose that both villages decide for themselves whether the Ashkheti collective farm should return here or not.

The old man is on the right. First of all, I once again protest against the strict regulations on speeches. It took us three days and three nights to get here from the Ashkheti collective farm, and now you want to hold a discussion in just half a day!

The wounded soldier is on the left. Comrade, we now do not have many villages, not so many workers and not so much time.

Young tractor driver. All pleasures require a norm. Tobacco is normal, wine is normal, discussion is also normal.

The old man on the right (with a sigh). Damn the fascists! Well, I'll speak to the point. I'll explain why we want to take back our valley. There are many reasons for this, but I will start with the simplest ones. Makine Abakidze, unwrap the cheese.

The peasant woman on the right takes a huge head of cheese from a large basket,

wrapped in a rag. Laughter and applause.

Please, comrades, help yourself.

The old peasant on the left (incredulously). What is this, a means of influence?

The old man on the right (to the laughter of those present). Well, what kind of influence is this, Sourab, the robber. We already know you. You're the kind of person who will take the cheese and take over the valley.

I don't need anything from you, just an honest answer. Do you like this cheese?

Old man on the left. Okay, I'll answer. Yes, I like it.

The old man is on the right. So. (Bitterly.) It's time for me to know that you don't know anything about cheese.

Old man on the left. Why don't I understand this? I'm telling you, I like cheese.

The old man is on the right. Because he can't be liked. Because he is not the same as he was before. Why isn't he like that? Because our sheep like the new grass less than the old one. Cheese is not cheese because grass is not grass. That's the problem. I ask that this be recorded in the protocol.

Old man on the left. Yes, your cheese is excellent.

The old man is on the right. It's not excellent, but at a stretch it's average. No matter what the young people say, the new pasture is no good. I declare that it is impossible to live there. That there is no morning smell there even in the morning.

Some people laugh.

Representative. Don't be angry that they laugh, they understand you. Comrades, why do they love their homeland? Here’s why: the bread tastes better there, the sky is higher, the air is more fragrant, the voices are louder, it’s easier to walk on the ground. Is not it?

The old man is on the right. The valley has been ours from time immemorial.

The soldier is on the left. What does "from time immemorial" mean? Nothing can belong “from time immemorial.” When you were young, you belonged not to yourself, but to the princes of Kazbeki.

The old man is on the right. According to the law, the valley is ours.

Young tractor driver. In any case, the laws need to be revised: perhaps they are no longer suitable.

The old man is on the right. And that's what to say. Does it really matter what tree stands near the house where you were born? Or what kind of neighbor you have - does it really matter? We want to return, if only to have you robbers as our neighbors. You can laugh again.

The old man on the left (laughs). Why then can’t you calmly listen to what your neighbor, our agronomist Kato Vakhtangova, has to say about the valley?

Peasant woman on the right. We have not yet said everything about our valley. Not all of the houses were destroyed, but at least the foundation of the farm remained.

Representative. You can count on government help - both here and there, you know that.

Peasant woman on the right. Comrade Commissioner, we are not dealing here with trade. I can’t take off your hat and put another one on you - this one, they say, is better. Maybe it's better, but you like yours.

Young tractor driver. The earth is not a hat, not a hat in our country, comrade.

Representative. Calm down, comrades. That’s right, a plot of land should be considered more like a tool that produces useful things, but it would be wrong not to take into account the fact that people are tied to a certain piece of land. Before continuing the discussion, I suggest that you tell your comrades from the Ashkheti collective farm what you are going to do with this valley.

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Bertolt Brecht's play is based on the parable of King Solomon, which tells the story of an argument between two mothers. When the world turns into war and everyone is looking only for their own truth, Grusha saves the life of someone else’s child and goes with him on a long journey, contrary to the laws of common sense, in defiance of danger and the opinion of others. Nikita Kobelev's performance is about the value of a selfless act and at the same time about the price one has to pay for it.

A jazz road movie across the expanses of Georgia, created according to the laws of Brecht's epic theater, full of excitement and music by Paul Dessau, performed live by the Round Band Quartet, ends in court. The dispute between the two mothers will have to be resolved by the rogue, the fraudulent clerk Azdak, at the same time giving his answer to the question of what true justice is.

One of Bertolt Brecht's most iconic plays, “The Caucasian Chalk Circle,” was already in the repertoire of the Mayakovsky Theater. In 1964, in the play by Vladimir Dudin, Galina Anisimova shone in the role of Grusha, and Lev Sverdlin in the role of Azdak. Now Nikita Kobelev has given the main roles to the young theater actress Yulia Solomatina and People's Artist of Russia Igor Kostolevsky.

Despite the seriousness of the theme and the melodramatic plot, Nikita Kobelev’s performance turned out to be very bright, voluminous, filled with live music and drive.
Irina Udyanskaya, Watch Russia portal

Twenty-two actors from several generations of Mayakovka exist in the performance as equals, regardless of the size of the role; the majority play several characters with passion and drive, creating a precise and sensitive ensemble.
Svetlana BERDICHEVSKAYA, “Screen and Stage”

The young actress Yulia Solomatina, in the difficult role of Grusha, manages to be credible every minute, and Igor Kostolevsky, who plays Judge Azdak, on the contrary, uses his entire comedic arsenal, creating an almost carnival mask of a village cunning who manages to turn the usually inhumane law in favor of ordinary people.
Marina Shimadina, Teatral

The director chose not a theatrical, but a cinematic genre - a road movie. Almost all artists sing zongs. They are especially successful with Yulia Solomatina, who plays the role of Grusha, and Igor Kostolevsky, who shines as the rowdy old man Azdak.

Natalya Vitvitskaya “Your leisure”

Nikita Kobelev, director: “As Brecht wrote: “Bad times make humanity dangerous to man.” For me, one of the main questions today is: why does a good deed necessarily turn into suffering? How to survive in an era of change? In difficult times, neither the law nor the usual justice can save; only such a human manifestation as Grusha’s act, only inner freedom can save. Azdak is the embodiment of this inner freedom; he is an absolutely carnival character. Inventing life, inventing roles is the only way to survive in this chaos and help someone else survive.”

Bertolt Brecht
Caucasian chalk circle
In collaboration with R. Berlau
Translation by S. Apt
CHARACTERS
The old peasant is on the right.
Peasant woman on the right.
Young peasant.
A very young worker.
The old peasant is on the left.
Peasant woman on the left.
Woman agronomist.
Young tractor driver.
Wounded soldier.
Other collective farmers and collective farmers.
Representative from the capital.
Arkady Chkheidze - singer.
His musicians are great.
Giorgi Abashvili - governor.
Natella is his wife.
Mikhail is their son.
Gogi is an adjutant.
Arsen Kazbeki is a fat prince.
A horse messenger from the city.
Niko Mikadze |
) doctors.
Mikha Loladze |
Simon Hakhava - soldier.
Grusha Vakhnadze - ship!wash.
Three architects.
Four maids.
Nurse.
Cook.
Cook.
Groom.
Servants in the governor's palace.
The men-at-arms and soldiers of the governor and the fat prince.
Beggars and petitioners.
Old peasant selling milk.
Two noble ladies.
Innkeeper.
Worker.
Corporal.
Armor "Cudgel".
Peasant woman.
Her husband.
Three merchants.
Lavrentiy Vakhnadze is Grusha's brother.
Aniko is his wife.
Their workers.
The peasant woman is Grusha's temporary mother-in-law.
David is her son, Grusha's husband.
Monk.
Guests at the wedding.
Children.
Azdak is the village clerk.
Shalva is a policeman.
The old fugitive is the Grand Duke.
Nephew of Arsen Kazbeki.
Doctor.
Disabled person.
Lame.
Extortionist.
The owner of another inn.
Tamara is the owner's daughter-in-law.
Owner's employee.
Poor old peasant woman.
Irakli is her brother-in-law, a bandit.
Three fists.
Ilo Shuboladze |
) lawyers.
Sandro Oboladze |
A very old married couple.
I
Valley dispute
Destroyed Caucasian village. Among the ruins, collective farmers are sitting in a circle, drinking wine and smoking - delegates from two villages, most of them women and elderly men. There are also several soldiers. A representative came to them from the capital
state commission for economic restoration.
Peasant woman on the left (shows). Over there, in the foothills, we detained three fascist tanks, but the apple orchard had already been destroyed.
The old man is on the right. And our dairy farm! Only ruins remain!
Young tractor driver. It was I who set the farm on fire, comrade.
Pause.
Representative. Listen now to the protocol. A delegation from the Ashkheti sheep-breeding collective farm arrived in Nuku. When the Nazis were advancing, the collective farm, at the direction of the authorities, drove its herds to the east. Now the collective farm is raising the question of re-evacuation. The delegation familiarized itself with the state of the area and found that the destruction was very great.
The delegates on the right nod affirmatively.
The neighboring fruit-growing collective farm named after Rosa Luxemburg (addressing those sitting on the right) makes a proposal to use the former pastures of the Ashkheti collective farm for fruit growing and viticulture. This land is a valley, the grass there is bad. As a representative of the restoration commission, I propose that both villages decide for themselves whether the Ashkheti collective farm should return here or not.
The old man is on the right. First of all, I once again protest against the strict regulations on speeches. It took us three days and three nights to get here from the Ashkheti collective farm, and now you want to hold a discussion in just half a day!
The wounded soldier is on the left. Comrade, we now do not have many villages, not so many workers and not so much time.
Young tractor driver. All pleasures require a norm. Tobacco is normal, wine is normal, discussion is also normal.
The old man on the right (with a sigh). Damn the fascists! Well, I'll speak to the point. I'll explain why we want to take back our valley. There are many reasons for this, but I will start with the simplest ones. Makine Abakidze, unwrap the cheese.
The peasant woman on the right takes a huge head of cheese from a large basket,
wrapped in a rag. Laughter and applause.
Please, comrades, help yourself.
The old peasant on the left (incredulously). What is this, a means of influence?
The old man on the right (to the laughter of those present). Well, what kind of influence is this, Sourab, the robber. We already know you. You're the kind of person who will take the cheese and take over the valley.
Laughter.
I don't need anything from you, just an honest answer. Do you like this cheese?
Old man on the left. Okay, I'll answer. Yes, I like it.
The old man is on the right. So. (Bitterly.) It's time for me to know that you don't know anything about cheese.
Old man on the left. Why don't I understand this? I'm telling you, I like cheese.
The old man is on the right. Because he can't be liked. Because he is not the same as he was before. Why isn't he like that? Because our sheep like the new grass less than the old one. Cheese is not cheese because grass is not grass. That's the problem. I ask that this be recorded in the protocol.
Old man on the left. Yes, your cheese is excellent.
The old man is on the right. It's not excellent, but at a stretch it's average. No matter what the young people say, the new pasture is no good. I declare that it is impossible to live there. That there is no morning smell there even in the morning.
Some people laugh.
Representative. Don't be angry that they laugh, they understand you. Comrades, why do they love their homeland? Here’s why: the bread tastes better there, the sky is higher, the air is more fragrant, the voices are louder, it’s easier to walk on the ground. Is not it?
The old man is on the right. The valley has been ours from time immemorial.
The soldier is on the left. What does "from time immemorial" mean? Nothing can belong “from time immemorial.” When you were young, you belonged not to yourself, but to the princes of Kazbeki.
The old man is on the right. According to the law, the valley is ours.
Young tractor driver. In any case, the laws need to be revised: perhaps they are no longer suitable.
The old man is on the right. And that's what to say. Does it really matter what tree stands near the house where you were born? Or what kind of neighbor you have - does it really matter? We want to return, if only to have you robbers as our neighbors. You can laugh again.
The old man on the left (laughs). Why then can’t you calmly listen to what your neighbor, our agronomist Kato Vakhtangova, has to say about the valley?
Peasant woman on the right. We have not yet said everything about our valley. Not all of the houses were destroyed, but at least the foundation of the farm remained.
Representative. You can count on government help - both here and there, you know that.
Peasant woman on the right. Comrade Commissioner, we are not dealing here with trade. I can’t take off your hat and put another one on you - this one, they say, is better. Maybe it's better, but you like yours.
Young tractor driver. The earth is not a hat, not a hat in our country, comrade.
Representative. Calm down, comrades. That’s right, a plot of land should be considered more like a tool that produces useful things, but it would be wrong not to take into account the fact that people are tied to a certain piece of land. Before continuing the discussion, I suggest that you tell your comrades from the Ashkheti collective farm what you are going to do with this valley.
The old man is on the right. Agree.
Old man on the left. That's right, let Kato speak.
Representative. Comrade agronomist!
A woman agronomist (stands up, wearing a military tunic). Comrades, last winter, when there were battles here in the foothills, we partisans talked among ourselves about how we could restore gardening after the expulsion of the Germans and expand the area of ​​our gardens tenfold. I developed a project for an irrigation system. If we build a dam on a mountain lake, we will give water to three hundred hectares of infertile land. Then our collective farm could engage not only in fruit growing, but also in viticulture. But the project will pay off only if the disputed valley land of the Ashkheti collective farm goes to us. Here are the calculations. (Hands the folder to the representative.)
The old man is on the right. Write down in the protocol that our collective farm is going to create a stud farm.
Young tractor driver. Comrades, this project was drawn up in those days and nights when we were forced to live in the mountains, when we often did not have enough cartridges, and there were few rifles. It was even difficult to get a pencil.
Applause from both sides.
The old man is on the right. Thanks to the comrades from the Rosa Luxemburg collective farm and everyone who defended their homeland!
Collective farmers shake hands and hug each other.
Peasant woman on the left. We then wanted our soldiers, ours and your husbands, to return and find their native land even more fertile.
Young tractor driver. As the poet Mayakovsky said: “I glorify the Fatherland that exists, but three times - that which will be!”
All the delegates on the right, except the old man, stand up and, together with the representative from
the center examines the agronomist’s drawings.
Vote. Why is the fall height twenty-two meters?
- And this rock needs to be blown up!
- Basically, all you need is cement and dynamite.
- They'll make the water come down here, cleverly!
Very young worker on the right (old man on the right). They will irrigate all the land between the hills, look, Rezo.
The old man is on the right. I have nothing to watch. I already knew that the project would be good. I will not allow a gun to be pointed at my chest.
Representative. Not a barrel, but just a pencil.
Laughter.
The old man on the right (gets up gloomily and goes to look at the drawings). These robbers, alas, know very well that we cannot resist machines and projects.
Peasant woman on the right. Rezo Bereshvili, when you yourself have new projects, you are the most obnoxious of all, this is known.
Representative. So what should I do with the protocol? Can I record that on your collective farm you will speak out in favor of ceding the valley in connection with this project?
Peasant woman on the right. I do. And you, Rezo?
The old man on the right (bending over the drawings). I suggest that you give us copies of the drawings.
Peasant woman on the right. Then, that means you can go to lunch. If he takes the drawings and begins to discuss them, then the issue is resolved. I know him. We are all like that.
The delegates laugh and hug each other.
Old man on the left. Long live the Ashkheti collective farm! We wish you good luck with the stud farm!
Peasant woman on the left. Comrades, in honor of our dear guests, delegates of the Ashkheti collective farm and a representative from the center, we are planning a performance with the participation of singer Arkady Chkheidze. The play is related to our question.
Applause. The young tractor driver ran after the singer.
Peasant woman on the right. Just, comrades, let your play be good. We pay for it with the valley.
Peasant woman on the left. Arkady Chkheidze knows twenty-one thousand poems by heart.
Old man on the left. We learned the play under his guidance. It's not so easy to get Arkady. The Planning Commission, comrade, should make sure that he visits us in the north more often.
Representative. We, in fact, are more concerned with economics.
The old man on the left (smiling). You bring order to the distribution of tractors and vines. Why don't you get involved in the distribution of songs?
The young tractor driver introduces singer Arkady Chkheidze, a stocky man of the most ordinary appearance, into the circle. Four musicians follow him with their
tools. The artists are applauded.
Young tractor driver. This is Comrade Commissioner, Arkady.
The singer greets the collective farmers surrounding him.
Peasant woman on the right. It is a great honor for me to meet you. I heard about your songs back in school.
Singer. This time we will show a performance with songs, almost the entire collective farm is participating. We have old masks with us.
The old man is on the right. Perhaps this is some old legend?
Singer. Very old. It is called "Chalk Circle", its homeland is China. But we will play it in a modified form. Yura, show me the masks. Comrades, it is a great honor for us to speak before you after such a difficult discussion. We hope you will agree that the voice of the old poet is not a hindrance to the tractor rumble. Different wines may not be good to mix, but old wisdom and new wisdom make a great blend. I think, however, that before the performance starts we will all be fed? This, you know, helps.
Vote. Certainly!
- Let's all go to the club!
Everyone leaves happily.
Representative (addresses the singer). How long will this story last, Arkady? I must return to Tbilisi tonight.
Singer (casually). There are actually two stories here. Few hours.
Representative (very sincerely). Can't it be shorter?
Singer. No way.
II
noble child
Singer (sitting on the ground in front of the musicians, with a black cloak on his shoulders, leafing through the tattered pages of the libretto).
In the old days, bloody times,
In this city - and the city was nicknamed "cursed"
reigned
A governor named Giorgi Abashvili.
He was rich, like Croesus.
He had a beautiful wife.
He had a child - blood and milk.
Not a single Georgian governor could
boast
So many horses in the stables,
So many beggars at the doorstep,
With so many soldiers in their service,
So many petitioners in your yard.
How can I describe this Georgiy Abashvili to you?
His life was pure bliss.
One day on Easter Sunday
The Governor and his family
We went to church.
Beggars and petitioners stream out from under the arch of the palace, raising emaciated children, crutches and petitions over their heads. Behind them are two soldiers in chain mail,
then the governor's family comes out in expensive outfits.
Beggars and petitioners. Have mercy, Your Grace, the tax is beyond our means.
- I lost my leg in the Persian war, where will I get...
- My brother is innocent. This is a misunderstanding, Your Grace.
- He will die of hunger with me.
- Please, release the only one remaining with us
son from military service.
- Your Worship, the water inspector has been bribed.
A servant collects petitions, another servant takes money out of his wallet and distributes alms. The soldiers, swinging heavy leather whips at the crowd,
pushing her back.
Soldier. Back! Clear the entrance to the church!
Following the governor's couple, the governor's
child. The crowd presses forward again to look at him.
Voices from the crowd. Here he is, the child!
- I don’t see, don’t push.
- God's blessing, your grace.
Singer (while the soldiers work with whips).
That Easter for the first time the people of the heir
saw.
Two doctors did not leave the noble child
not a single step.
They treasured it like the apple of their eye.
Even the mighty prince Kazbeki
I paid my respects to him.
The fat prince comes forward and greets the governor's family.
Fat prince. Happy holiday, Natella Abashvili.
A military command is heard. A mounted messenger arrives and hands the governor some rolled up papers. The governor makes a sign to the adjutant, a handsome young man, who approaches the horseman and holds him back. There is a short pause, during which the fat prince looks suspiciously
rider.
What a day! It rained yesterday, and I already thought: sad holidays. And this morning - clear skies please. I love clear skies, Natella Abashvili, my soul. Little Mikhail is the spitting image of the governor, ti-ti-ti. (Tickles the child.) Happy holiday, little Mikhail, ti-ti-ti.
Governor's wife. Think about it, Arsen, Georgy has finally decided to start a new extension on the eastern side. The entire suburb, where these miserable shacks are now, will become a garden.
Fat prince. Here's good news after so much sad news. What have you heard about the war, brother George?
The governor waves away the answer with a gesture.
I was told correctly - a strategic retreat? Well, such troubles always happen. Today things are better, and tomorrow they are worse - it doesn’t happen every time. Variable success. It doesn't matter, does it?
Governor's wife. He's coughing! George, did you hear? (Sharply to two doctors standing sedately next to the wheelchair.) He coughs.
The first doctor (to the second). Let me remind you, Niko Mikaze, that I was against a cool bath. Minor error in bathing water temperature, Your Grace.
Second doctor (also very polite). I just can’t agree with you, Mikha Loladze, this temperature is recommended by our great and beloved Mishiko Oboladze. More like a night draft, Your Grace.
Governor's wife. Keep an eye on him. Looks like he has a fever, Georgiy.
First doctor (bending over the child). There is no cause for concern, Your Grace. A little hotter bath and everything will be fine.
The second doctor (looking at the first with a poisonous look). I will not forget this, dear Mikha Loladze. There is no reason to worry, Your Grace.
Fat prince. Ah ah ah! When I have a pain in my liver, I always say: “Fifty kicks on the doctor’s heels.” And that’s only because we live in a pampered age. Previously, this would have immediately given me a head off my shoulders.
Governor's wife. Let's go to church, there's probably a draft here.
The procession, consisting of the governor's family and servants, turns to the church porch. The fat prince follows the procession. The adjutant approaches
to the governor and points to the messenger.
Governor. Not before the service, Gogi.
Adjutant (to the rider). Before the service, the governor does not want to bother reading dispatches, especially since they are most likely of a distressing nature. Go to the kitchen, friend, tell them to give you something to eat.
The adjutant joins the procession, the messenger, cursing, goes through the gate into the palace. A soldier comes out of the palace and stops under the arch.
Singer.
The city is quiet.
Pigeons walk in front of the church.
And the palace guard soldier
Joking with the kitchen girl
What comes from the river with a package to the palace.
A maid with a package under her arm wants to go through the arch. The subject that
she carries it, wrapped in large green leaves.
Soldier. Why isn't the young lady in church? Is she shirking worship?
Grusha. I was already dressed, but then they needed a goose for Easter dinner, so they sent me, I know a lot about geese.
Soldier. Goose? (With feigned disbelief.) I should take a look at this goose.
Grusha doesn't understand.
You have to be careful with your sister. They will tell you: “I followed a goose,” and then it turns out that it was not a goose, but something completely different.
Grusha (decisively approaches him and shows him the goose). Here he is. And unless it's a fifteen-pound, corn-fed goose, I'm willing to eat its feathers.
Soldier. It's the king of geese! The governor himself will eat it. So, the young lady was on the river again?
Grusha. Yes, in the poultry yard.
Soldier. Oh, so, in the poultry yard, that means, downstream, and not above, where the willows are known to the young lady?
Grusha, I’m only in the willow forest when I wash my clothes.
Soldier (significantly). That's it.
Grusha. What is “exactly”?
Soldier (winking). Same thing.
Grusha. Why shouldn't I wash my clothes in the willow forest?
Soldier (with a fake laugh). "Why don't I wash my clothes in the willow forest"? Great, honestly, great.
Grusha. I don’t understand Mister Soldier. So what?
Soldier (slyly). If she had known that he knew, she would have lost peace and sleep.
Grusha. I don’t know what you can know about some willows.
Soldier. What if there is a bush opposite from which you can see everything? All that happens when some people "do their laundry"!
Grusha. What is happening there? Let Mr. Soldier say what he means, and that's the end of it.
Soldier. Something is probably happening that you can see.
Grusha. Is it really, Mr. Soldier, that when it’s hot I dip the tips of my feet in water? Nothing else happens there.
Soldier. No more. Tips of the feet and beyond.
Grusha. What else? Well, maybe sometimes the whole foot.
Soldier. A foot and a little more. (Laughs.)
Grusha (angrily). Simon Hakhava, shame on you! Sitting in the bushes in the heat and waiting for a person to dip their feet in the water! And, probably, with another soldier! (Runs away.)
Soldier (shouts after her). No, one!
When the singer resumes his story, the soldier runs after Grushe.
Singer.
The city is quiet, why do we need weapons?
There is peace and quiet in the governor's palace.
Why is a palace a fortress?
A fat prince quickly emerges from the church on the left. He stops and looks around. At the arch on the right, two men-at-arms are waiting. The prince notices them and slowly walks past, making signs to them; then quickly removed. One man-at-arms goes through the arch into the palace, the other remains on guard. From the depths of the stage, from different sides, there is a dull voice: “Get to your places!” The palace is surrounded. A church can be heard from a distance
ringing The governor's family and their retinue return from church.
Singer.
And the governor returned to his palace,
And the fortress turned into a trap.
And the goose was plucked and roasted,
And the Easter goose was not eaten,
And noon was not lunch hour,
And that noon was the hour of death.
Governor's wife (on the move). It is absolutely impossible to live in this barn, but Georgy is building it, of course, for his son, and not for me. Mikhail is everything! Everything for Mikhail!
Governor. Did you hear that brother Kazbeki congratulated us on the holiday! Very nice, but I don't think it rained in Nook that night. Where Kazbeki's brother was, it was raining. Where was Kazbeki's brother?
Adjutant. We need to investigate.
Governor. Yes, immediately. Tomorrow.
The procession turns towards the arch. The horse messenger who at this time
returns from the palace, seeing the governor, approaches him.
Adjutant. Would you please listen to the messenger from the capital, Your Excellency? He arrived this morning with secret papers.
Governor (on the move). Not before food, Gogi!
The procession hides in the palace, and only two men-at-arms from
palace guards.
Adjutant (to the messenger). The governor does not want to be bothered with military reports before meals, and his Excellency will devote the second half of the day to a meeting with prominent architects, who are also invited to dinner. Now they are already here.
Three architects appear. The messenger leaves.
(He greets the architects.) Gentlemen, His Excellency is expecting you for lunch. All his time will be devoted only to you and great new plans! Hurry up, gentlemen!
Architect. We are delighted that, despite the alarming rumors about the unfavorable turn of the war in Persia, His Excellency is going to build.
Adjutant. It would be more accurate to say: “Because of disturbing rumors”! This is nothing. Persia is far away. The local garrison is ready to fight for its governor.
A piercing female scream is heard from the palace, then a military command. The adjutant walks dejectedly towards the arch. One of the men-at-arms comes forward, pointing at
adjutant spear.
What's the matter? Put away the spear, dog. (Infuriated, palace guards.) Disarm! Don't you see that there is an attempt on the governor's life?
The palace guards at arms disobey orders. They look at the adjutant coldly and indifferently, they look at everything else the same way
indifferently. The adjutant makes his way into the palace.
Architect. These are princes! Last night, princes opposed to the Grand Duke and his governors gathered in the capital. Gentlemen, we better get away.
The architects quickly leave.
Singer.
O great ones of this world, blindness!
Like immortals, they walk with dignity
Along the necks bent, relying on strength
Hired fists, time-tested.
But time is not eternity!
Oh change of times! O hope of the people!
The governor comes out from under the arch, he is wearing shackles, his face has turned gray, his
led by two soldiers, armed to the teeth.
Forever, sir! Please don't hunch over!
Enemies are looking at you from your palace!
You don't need any architects, you need
gravedigger
You will not move to a new palace, but to
an oblong narrow pit.
Take one last look, blind man!
The prisoner looks around.
Do you like your possessions? Between
morning and lunch
You are going to a place where no one has returned.
They take him away. The palace guards join the soldiers. You can hear how
the bugler sounds the alarm. Noise behind the arch.
When a great man's house collapses,
Little ones are dying under the rubble.
Who did not share the happiness of the ruler,
He often shares his misfortune with him.
The stroller flies into the abyss and with it
Lathered horses are carried away.
Servants run out from under the arch in panic.
Servants (vying with each other). Baskets! Hurry up, everyone to the third yard!
- Stock for five days!
- Her ladyship is fainting.
“We have to take her out, she can’t stay here.”
- And we?
“We’ll be slaughtered like chickens, that’s already known.”
- God, what will happen to us?
- They say that blood is already flowing in the city.
- Nonsense, nothing like that, the governor is just being polite
asked to appear at a gathering of princes, everything will be settled amicably,
I learned first hand.
Both doctors also run out into the yard.
First doctor (trying to detain the second). Niko Mikadze, your duty as a doctor is to help Natella Abashvili.
Second doctor. My debt? No matter how it is! It's your duty.
First doctor. Who is watching the child today, Niko Mikadze, you or me?
Second doctor. Do you seriously think, Mikha Loladze, that because of some boy I will stay even for a minute in this plague-ridden house?
A fight breaks out between them. All you can hear is the cry: “You’re cheating.”
to your duty!" and "What a duty!"
(Finally, he knocks the first one down with a blow.) Come on. (Runs away.)
Servants. We have until the evening, before the soldiers get drunk.
- Or maybe they haven’t rebelled yet?
- The palace guards galloped away.
- Does no one know what happened?
Grusha. Fisherman Meliva says that in the capital they saw a comet with a red tail in the sky. This is unfortunate.
Servants. They say that yesterday it was announced in the capital that the Persian war was lost.
- The princes rebelled. They say the Grand Duke has already escaped. All of him
governors are executed.
- They won't touch little people. My brother is an armored man.
Soldier Simon Hakhava enters. He is looking for Grusha in the commotion.
Adjutant (appears in the arc). All to the third yard! Help me pack my things! (Shoos away the servants.)
Simon (finally finds Grusha). There you are, Grusha. What are you going to do?
Grusha. Nothing. At worst, I have a brother in the mountains, and my brother has a farm. What will happen to you?
Simon. And nothing will happen to me. (Again decorously.) Grusha Vakhnadze, your question about my plans makes my heart happy. I was assigned to accompany and guard the governor’s wife, Natella Abashvili.
Grusha. Didn't the palace guards rebel?
Simon (seriously). She rebelled.
Grusha. Is it dangerous to accompany the governor's wife?
Simon. In Mtskheti they say this: is it dangerous to stab with a knife?
Grusha. But you are not a knife, but a man, Simon Hakhava. What do you care about this woman?
Simon. I don’t care about her, but I was appointed, and I’m going.
Grusha. In this case, Mr. Soldier is a narrow-minded person: he would never expose himself to danger for anything.
She is called from the palace.
I'm in a hurry to the third courtyard, I have no time.
Simon. If we don’t have time, then we don’t need to argue; a good argument takes time. May I ask if the young lady has parents?
Grusha. No. Only brother.
Simon. Since we are running out of time, the second question will be: how is the young lady about her health?
Grusha. Only sometimes it hurts in my right shoulder, but in general I have enough strength to do any work, so far no one has complained.
Simon. This is already known. If someone needs to go after a goose on Easter Sunday, they send her. Question number three: is the young lady patient or not? Let's just say - does she need cherries in the middle of winter?
Grusha. It’s not that she’s impatient, but if a person goes off to war for no apparent reason and then there’s no news from him, then that’s, of course, bad.
Simon. There will be news.
From the palace they call Grushe again.
And finally, the main question...
Grusha. Simon Hakhava, since I have to go to the third courtyard and I don’t have time, I immediately answer “yes.”
Simon (very embarrassed). There is a saying: “haste is the wind on the scaffolding.” But there is another saying: “the rich take their time.” I am from...
Grusha. From Tskhalauri.
Simon. So the young lady has already made inquiries? I am healthy, I have no one to take care of, I receive ten piastres a month, and if they are appointed treasurer, then twenty. I humbly ask for your hand
Grusha. Simon Hahava, I agree.
Simon (removing the chain with a cross from his neck). This is the cross of my mother, Grusha Vakhnadze, on a silver chain. Please wear it.
Grusha. Thank you, Simon.
Simon (puts a chain on her). It would be better if the young lady went to the third yard, otherwise nothing would happen. Besides, I need to harness the horses, that’s clear to the young lady.
Grusha. Yes, Simon.
They stand undecided.
Simon. I will only deliver the governor's wife to where the troops have not gone over to the side of the rebels. When the war is over, I will return. In two or three weeks. I hope that my fiancee will not be bored in my absence.
Grusha.
Simon Hahava, I will be waiting for you.
Go calmly to war, soldier.
Bloody war, cruel war,
Not everyone is given the opportunity to come home from war.
When you return I will be here
I'll wait for you under the green elm tree,
I'll wait for you under a bare winter elm tree,
I'll wait until the last one arrives.
And after that.
And when you come back from the war,
You won't see boots at the door,
And the pillow next to me will be empty,
And no one will kiss me.
Oh, when you come, oh, when you come,
You will see that everything is the same as before.
Simon. Thank you, Grushe Vakhnadze. And goodbye! (Bows low to her.)
She bows just as low to him. Then she runs away without looking back. From under
The adjutant comes out of the arch.
Adjutant (rudely). Harness the horses to the big cart, move, you idiot!
Simon Hakhava stretches out, then walks away. Two servants emerge from under the arch, bent under the weight of huge chests. Behind them, supported
maids, follows Natella Abashvili. Behind is a maid with a child.
Governor's wife. Nobody cares about me again. I completely lost my head. Where is Mikhail? How awkwardly you hold him! Chests for the cart! Is anything known about the governor, Gogi?
Adjutant (shakes his head). You must leave immediately.
Governor's wife. Any information from the city?
Adjutant. No, everything is calm for now, but we can’t waste a minute. The chests will not fit on the cart. Choose what you need. (Quickly leaves.)
Governor's wife. Only the essentials! Quickly open the chests, I'll tell you what to grab.
The servants place the chests on the ground and open them.
(Pointing to the brocade dresses.) Of course, green and this one, with fur! Where are the doctors? I'm getting a terrible migraine again, always starting in my temples. And this, with pearl buttons...
Grusha runs in.
I see you are in no hurry. Now bring the hot water bottles.
Grusha runs away, then returns with hot water bottles.
(Silently, with his eyes and gestures, he gives her one order after another.) Be careful not to tear your sleeve.
Young maid. Your Grace, look, nothing happened to the dress.
Governor's wife. Because I grabbed your hand. I've been following you for a long time. You just have to make eyes at the adjutant! I'll kill you, bitch. (He hits her.)
Adjutant (returns). Please hurry up, Natella Abashvili. They are already shooting in the city. (Leaves.)
The Governor's Wife (releases the young maid). God! Will they really touch us? For what? For what?
Everyone is silent.
(Starts rummaging through the chests.) Find the brocade jacket! Help her! What's wrong with Mikhail? He's sleeping?
Maid with child. Yes, Your Grace.
Governor's wife. Then put it down for a minute and bring me some morocco boots from the bedroom, they go with green.
The maid puts the child down and runs away.
(To the young maid.) Why are you standing there?
The young maid runs away.
Stop, or I'll have you whipped!
Pause.
How all this is laid out - without love, without understanding! Keep an eye on everything yourself... At such moments you see what kind of servants you have. You are a master at eating, but you don’t know what gratitude is. I'll make a note of this for the future.
Adjutant (very excited). Natella, go this very minute. The Supreme Court judge, Orbeliani, was just hanged by carpet makers.
Governor's wife. How so? I need to take the silver one with me, it cost a thousand piastres. And this, and all the fur. Where's the dark red?
Adjutant (trying to tear her away from her outfit). Riots broke out in the suburbs. We need to leave now. Where is the baby?
The governor's wife (calls the maid acting as a nanny). Maro! Get your baby ready! Where have you gone?
Adjutant (leaving). I'll probably have to give up the stroller and ride a horse.
The governor's wife rummages through the dresses, throws some of them into the pile that she intends to take with her, then discards them again. Noise is heard
drum beat. A glow appears in the sky.
Governor's wife (continues to rummage feverishly). I can't find the dark red one. (Shrugging, to the first maid.) Take the whole pile and put it in the stroller. Why doesn't Maro come back? Have you all gone crazy? That's what I thought, it's at the very bottom.
Adjutant (returns). Hurry, hurry!