The well-known Russian actor and head of the Theater of Nations Yevgeny Mironov speaks of the TERRITORIЯ theater festival, Dostoyevsky and dust

Mironov admits that he is not an easy person to work with: he seems to be a perfectionist who always wants to raise the bar.

— Speaking of the Festival – whose territory is it and for whom?

— The Festival celebrates its 5th anniversary this year. As always, we are presenting the latest in contemporary arts, so the TERRITORIЯ appeals to all those interested in cutting-edge theatrical productions. We differ from other theater festivals because we are a school and a workshop as well. We invite students from Russian theater schools and colleges. The symbol of the first TERRITORIЯ Fest was the subway map, because we "transfer" from comics to music, from drama to opera and to modern art.

— In the previous years you have had a variety of performances from different countries, but this year all the time is given to Germany. Why?

— I consider Berlin one of the leading centers of contemporary arts. The Germans are able to preserve traditions and the experience of the past, and at the same time they react to the new instantly. We are glad to announce three legendary German plays brought to our festival this year: Hamlet by Thomas Ostermeier, Constanza Macras' Hell on Earth, and Karl Marx: Das Kapital, Volume One by the Rimini Protokoll. We will also have Russian performances based on German plays, as well as jazz bands, DJs from Berlin, poster exhibitions, German movies, and workshops with Russian actors who have worked with German directors.

— What are the national traits, special features of the German theater, as compared to the Russian?

— It depends on the theater. Though some general traits are obvious. The Germans have great discipline and a clockwork accuracy in their acting. They are so technical that even emotions are expressed more in movement.

— Can you name the most outstanding German productions of the past? What impressed you?

— Robert Wilson had staged The Threepenny Opera at the Berliner Ensemble, the same theater where Brecht himself staged it for the first time. I was not impressed but totally jealous! The production seemed so abstract, so far removed from the present day, like the director lifted off the ground. German quality in all its perfection! Everything down to the lighting was calculated for every move of a finger – and it worked! So I think that all who are not indifferent should go see the TERRITORIЯ performances. If we don't see the new in art, we will be left far behind the modern world.

— A few years ago you'd called the TERRITORIЯ "a festival uncomfortable for all". Why is that so?

— This festival is the place where the young speak – sharply, not choosing words. Moscow greeted the first TERRITORIЯ with great negativity. I have the impression that the city still lives by Okudzhava's songs. Okudzhava is great, his works will stay with us forever, but why not move on! The young feel the nerve, the society's pains, that's why we must listen to them. Russian theater's whitebeards do nothing but sit in one place breathing dust in and out. Fresh voices are a burr under their saddle.

— Aren't you afraid that one day you could become one of those old men breathing dust?

— I'm afraid of just one thing – to mellow out. I'm restless, I'm nervous – I'm an actor! On the other hand, I have seen a man who didn't hush till the very last moment of his life, worrying about all the unsolved problems of our society. That man was our great writer Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. I met with him three weeks before his death. We discussed politics and my roles. He could barely move without help, but his eyes were still burning. I looked like a dying seal next to him. He kept his clarity of vision till the end.

— But you still feel "the nerve", I have to assume. Your theater's latest production, Shukshin's Stories, became an absolute hit both with the audiences and the pros. What is the secret of its success?

— We based the show on love. That is the answer. This feeling is the same for everyone, be they ordinary people or tycoons. These days open-heartedness is unfashionable, everyone wears a mask. And all of a sudden here's this story about families – grandmothers, grandfathers, husbands and wives from the tiny village Srostki in the Altay region. They have a simple but happy life, and people watching this play suddenly remember all the simple feelings they once had, and they feel more humane. It is our director Alvis Hermanis who is to be credited for this effort. He once came to me and proposed staging a play based on Shukshin. I was quite skeptical about the idea, but soon realized that Shukshin is sublime. He wrote about actions that a modern-day office rat can barely understand: like, one of the characters spends his entire salary on a pair of boots for his wife, just to find out that he bought the wrong size.

— The well-known director Peter Stein once scolded you for changing emotions too fast on the stage. What about real life – do you scold yourself for living too fast?

— I do, all the time. And I don't know how to help it. The number of my responsibilities is rising, and it may be dangerous: there's a risk of lowering the bar. This past year happened to be one of the toughest in my life. The three prior years were devoted solely to my theater, and this year I agreed to play Dostoyevsky in the new TV miniseries. You know, I've read Dostoyevsky's contemporary critics – what a disaster! If I were him I would have gone mad after reading all that. But he was driven to write, he kept writing even after fits of epilepsy. Towards the end of his life his wife set up a cozy existence for him, but he refused to get comfortable. All his heroes – Myshkin, Nastasya Filippovna, Ivan Karamazov, Rogozhin – they're him. I was angry at Dostoyevsky, I couldn't understand him, but in the end I'd fallen in love with him. If someone asked me to spend another eight months playing this part, I wouldn't hesitate.