For Vitali Makarov, it turns out to be very “therapeutic” to perform one of the monologues of The End of the Red Man. Adapted from the eponymous book, the play created at Quat’Sous will feature four testimonies collected by Nobel-winning writer Svetlana Alexievitch from citizens of the former USSR, who recount the repercussions that the collapse of the Soviet regime had on their life.
The actor of Russian origin recognizes himself in the biography of his character, a former soldier who became an entrepreneur. “90% of him is me,” says the man who initially wanted to become an officer, but who left military college after three years. “Above all, the questions he asks himself about his experience are the same ones that I ask myself all the time in relation to this historical period. It’s not black and white for him. »
Arriving here in 1994, claiming to be half-Quebecer, half-Russian (“Russian roots, cultural references, that’s strong; we can’t eliminate that”), Vitali Makarov nevertheless says: “I’m a red man. A Homo sovieticus, according to the formula of the dissident philosopher Zinoviev. It’s in me. My character says: in Soviet schools, we were taught that man is fundamentally good and that it is circumstances that make him horrible. And I’m idealistic. Even if all the XXe century is proof to the contrary, I believe in human nature. But it’s [en] contradiction with what I know, all the horrors of Stalin’s time and certain periods. How can we continue to live after that? I think it’s accepting that we are who we are. Accept our history. But don’t forget. »
Three decades after the fall of the USSR, he too has more questions than answers. In 1991, when he was a young student at theater school, very stimulated by the ideas of freedom and democracy, he went to the barricades to protest against the attempted coup d’état against Gorbachev and his Perestroika. “At the time, everything was clear. Now, knowing all the suffering, the conflicts, with what is happening, especially now, these unimaginable horrors, I say to myself: no, no revolution. » He judges that a slow evolution is preferable to a “change like that, too abrupt, too quickly. Because of ordinary people who are suffering. Change the lives of 300 million people in one fell swoop! » This capitalist turn plunged many into poverty, then. “When I saw my math teacher selling ketchup in the street, it broke my heart. Educated people had nothing to eat. »
This fall also sounded the death knell for the coming together of the different nations and peoples who made up the USSR. “Going back to the Soviet Union is impossible. This is madness. But we can’t avoid having a little tenderness for this brotherhood that we had. We were together. » The actor hopes “that we return to this fraternity, one day. Even if it’s going to be difficult in the tabarnacle! »
And why present the stories of The End of the Red Man on the Montreal scene? “I think it’s very important. Because in the end, we’re talking about human nature. We are all the same. And to think that here we are vaccinated against totalitarianism is naive! » says the one who remained suspicious of ideologies.
A lie
“There was still something wonderful about the structure, about this life without borders,” recognizes Sasha Samar, who grew up in Soviet Ukraine. “Today, there are 15 different countries. What the European Union did, the Soviet Union did before. We lived together and felt like we were all brothers and sisters. [Mais] there was terrible racism inside. » According to the actor, the “number 1 nation” was Russia and its membership “opened more doors in terms of administrative or political careers”.
In the end, the USSR was a “great and wonderful lie,” he said. Those who believed in it were happy. And those who understood reality were unhappy. I wasn’t conscious. I believed in ideals, I wanted to be a communist. We had no access to any information. And those who could talk about something were sent straight to the gulag! »
This changing USSR is the framework, tragic or incredible, of Me, in the red ruins of the century, based on Sasha Samar’s own life. First created in 2012, and soon produced by Duceppe, Olivier Kemeid’s acclaimed play traces the initiatory quest of a young person, kidnapped as a child by his father, who seeks to find his mother.
Before February 24, 2022, the date of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the artist who immigrated in 1996 thought that his flame for his native territory was almost extinguished. “I was a little detached from my roots, because I put down roots here. But the war awakened something truly profound in me. I sense a different kind of engagement with Ukraine. » Finding himself in Europe on the fateful date, he even thought of enlisting in its army…
Half of Russian origin on his mother’s side, Samar “chose to be Ukrainian politically. Because today is not the time for nuance. Let’s stop the war, get out of our territory, and then we’ll talk about the nuances. »
This invasion did not come out of nowhere, he recalls. “It is the desire, absolutely bizarre, to rebuild this empire, under another name, Russia. In fact, the big problem is that the Soviet regime has never been condemned. We did not go to trial to say that what was done was terrible. »
However, this show where the actor plays his own role is not at all political. “It’s a piece that speaks of hope and love, above all. » And his numerous representations will have allowed him to maintain a dialogue, transposed, with the maternal figure. “In my real life, I knew my mother for a total of 10 days. But thanks to the actresses who played her with me, it’s as if I experienced this love. »
Double
Of Slavic origin through his father (a mixture of Belarusian, Ukrainian, Polish and Russian roots), Micha Raoutenfeld is currently performing his first text, Papeça, located partly in Russia, at the Center du Théâtre d’Aujourd’hui (CTD’A), while preparing to deliver a monologue in The End of the Red Man. Two shows touching on the former USSR. “And I realized that in my solo, which is inspired by the form of the Russian tale, the myth, I deconstruct femininity, which was imposed on me in part by this region of the world,” says the queer artist and non-binary. “And in the other room, my character, who is a Russian soldier, deconstructs his masculinity, which was also imposed on him. Gender codes are even more rigid there than ours. » Machist culture, “more frontal”.
For the artist, by bringing out humanity beyond politics, The end of man red serves to not forget “how regimes do not represent the population at all. It’s important to make this distinction, I think. To avoid dehumanization. Putin does not represent Russians. We must not fall into the trap and generate more hatred.”
Ukrainian poetry
Also of Slavic paternal ancestry (Ukrainian and Polish), Guillaume Chapnick wanted to write about the heritage of Ukrainian culture, which he discovered mainly through poetry. Inspired by her own experience as a caregiver, Shevchenko — which will be created at the CTD’A — depicts a siblings whose patriarch is dying of a neurodegenerative disease.
The conflict in Ukraine ended up interfering a little in this piece on “mourning, the father-son bond, masculinity”, which had been written before. “Today, Ukraine and the war are inseparably linked for many,” notes the author and actor. I wanted to talk about something else. But it’s impossible not to talk about it. It is important. We feel devastated, very helpless. That’s why I wrote this piece, too. I try to make my contribution, to pay homage to this culture, to bring it to life here. »