Could it be said that we are in a moment of at once a proliferation of noise, and at the same time, a weird, uncanny silence?
The last month I have provided a curious mirror to public space: where a proliferation of "things" have appeared, I have myself maintained an empty, reflective, sort of vigilant silence, whilst undertaking a subtle and total change of my work. Rather than writing myself, the Ukrainian poet Lesya Ukrainka has sat on this page, as a sort of monument to hope, in a moment where cynical calculation proliferated.
It has not been a quiet period at all. As well as a humanitarian one, the invasion by Russia is an intense philosophical tragedy which has caused a deep reflection on my almost 16-year relationship with Ukraine, as a spectator to its tentative and imperfect journey out of militarisation, only to be finally and unequivocally dragged back in to horrific, bare violence by Russia's booted foot.
The noise accompanying this fatalist, resigned gesture of attack has sometimes been disgusting to watch, as Ukrainian self-determination is channeled by those who are not Ukrainian and have no understanding of it or interest in learning what it means. An alternative position is to sit back with the popcorn - and cynically viewing on from the media, it is easy to ask "what about...?" questions, that neatly sidestep the specific ethical questions that these specific Russian atrocities bring. The worst of these positions support some fictional "other side", the validity of which is best accounted for with the 50-page revisionist Ukrainian history written by the amateur historian, V. Putin, in August last year (mentioned a lot, but rarely well-analysed or actually even read).
If I have entered a particular type of crisis, a sort of chosen writer's block, then my Ukrainian colleagues, and especially their inspiring determination, calm, and resilience in the face of meaningless aggression, have led - and continue to lead - me through it, without fear.
Next week, beloved Faki Festival enters its 25th rendition in Zagreb, with a mix of shows that are adventurous "Real-theater". As I gear up for my last ride in the festival, ending an 8-year relationship, it's an important moment to reflect on the massive destruction to cultural infrastructure that has occurred over the pandemic. For a tradition like the festival to survive, it needs support, and instead, its foundations are constantly eroded by the heavy investment away from social fabric, under the guise of 'building wealth'. Hence the festival theme of this year "Enough!", designed to simultaneously question resource distribution and draw attention to the wasteland of culture that the pandemic left behind, and the imperative to support its rebuilding.
Mixing with that activity, I am presenting at the conference on the subject of "cancel culture" and its effect on theatre, a conference happening alongside Nova Drama festival in Bratislava. The conference is interestingly titled "Contemporary Freedom and the New Crisis of Theatre Between Ideological Extremism and the ‘Cancel Culture’", which automatically raises questions for me about what theatre - an extremely inaccessible artform - could possibly offer in relation to "Cancel Culture", which itself seems ill-defined in today's context.
Finally, I am proud to present a concert from two new friends from Kharkiv with whom I have started a shared studio in the fabled suburb of Kreuzberg. That event Friends of Friends of Friends, is bound to be the first of many livestreamed concerts, as my colleagues continue the activity that they were doing in Kharkiv before it was horrifyingly interrupted. Consider joining the livestream and donating to their chosen cause: an actor from Kharkiv who has spontaneously found a new career delivering emergency food to people in Kharkiv.
The decision to continue publishing today is not made lightly. Current attacks on culture and identity of communities are seismic and worthy of unequivocal condemnation, made without fear. As an artist from Mariupol said to me once: Culture is a shield - may it protect those who continue to carry forward the stage traditions of people, and who work for change, in siege situations or otherwise.
