Back in the USSR

Right now I'm sitting in the green room in the American Studio on break from Kapusnik rehearsal. Kapusnik is a Russian tradition that started because during lent theater was not allowed to be performed. People got together during this time and created comical skits for each other. The tradition of these skits continues today and is celebrated in schools across Russia. Here at the Moscow Art Theater School it is taken much more seriously than in other places because you are putting on a performance for the entire school. If your Kapusnik doesn't got well it colors the rest of your year and you cannot be redeemed until the next Kapusnik. Recently the Americans have been stealing the show with their natural inclination to sketch comedy and improv (thank you Second City). Kapusnik is named after cabbage pies- I've yet to reconcile why this is. Nevertheless, the 43 American students have joined hands, thrown their pride to the wind and seized the moment to hopefully show the Russians our excellent sense of humor and uncanny ability in musical theater.

Yesterday I performed my character etude for class. I was a four year old little girl stealing cookies late at night from the kitchen. For those of you who know them, Penny, Patch and Tall Bear made their debut. When preparing my character I drew upon some of my best friends Rosemary and Morgan. I know I will never do their preciousness justice, but Sergei (my acting teacher) and the rest of the class really enjoyed my piece.

I haven't really talked about any of the shows we have been seeing. Almost every evening we're going to the theater. We've seen Chekhov, Brecht, Shakespeare and much more. I loved the production of Three Penny Opera (although it was four hours long) and could only think of Skidmore and Erin Daley. After Uncle Vanya I could have talked to Alma for hours and Tadashi Suzuki's version of King Lear only sparked an image of Will stomping out truth in my mind. Chekhov is brilliant. I've finally started to grasp what is so beautiful about his plays.

Pease and Love.

Pelmeni

Although I have had ample opportunity to taste the delicacies of Russian cuisine (caviar, smoked salmon, ect.) I believe I have discovered one of Russia's finest of foods. Though modest in appearance and prolific throughout grocery stores of every shape and size, the glory of pelmeni is unparalleled. This small dumpling comes in all shapes and sizes and could be best described as a hybrid between a Chinese steamed dumpling and an Italian tortellini or ravioli. Pelmeni are usually filled with meat and seasoning. The method of preparation is simple: buy your favorite kind at the market (most come frozen), boil a small pot of water with salt, add pelmeni and allow to cook and finally after draining the gems, put them in a bowl with lots of sour cream (smetana). Ideally when you bite into the pelmeni there will still be remnants of salty water which explode through the dough and create a kind of broth with the sour cream in your mouth as you try not to devour an entire bowl in less than a minute. Pelmeni-- yet another addition to all the things Russia does right.

Gypsy Cab

This morning Mariana, the woman who is keeping me alive in Russia, asked Sam and I if we wanted to go with her in a car to school this morning. Without much hesitation we answered yes, thankful that we would miss the long walk in nasty weather. We crossed under Tverskaya and Mariana went to the corner of the street to hail a cab, but this was no cab... this was a "gypsy cab". Basically, anyone can pick you up and take you wherever you want to go (or as close as they can) for a small token of appreciation. We sat silently in the car while a very amiable man drove us almost to the doorstep of MXAT. It was great.

And now for the top ten list of Things that are Happening Right Now to Me:

1. Etudes.
2. Larisa.
3. Personal connection to my acting=missing.
4. Russian impersonations of American popstars.
5. Blisters.
6. Knowing I will be sore tomorrow.
7. Sam making me tea every morning and being the best friend ever.
8. Ochen khorasho.
9. Griechka or buckwheat.
10. Still haven't shaved my legs.

Love.

A Glimpse...

Every morning I walk down the smoky stairwell in my dorm and out onto the streets of Moscow. Brisk air refreshes my face and I'm off for the day. Eyes straight ahead, purse on my shoulder and feet steping a mile a minute I begin the walk to the Moscow Art Theater School. Silently and soberly I think about the day ahead of me and take in my new surroundings. Russian eyes see my American awkwardness. New goal: try to look like a local. It becomes a game: stare more, walk faster, no smile, no frown, mumble some form of excuse me when necessary. After about 15 minutes I have to go underground to cross one of the major streets. Once down the stairs the sticky warm air pervades my already warm body. I'm sure in November I will be thankful for this. Shop windows filled with scarves, slippers, jewelry, and nail polish line the path. The pastry and pirozhki shop marks my stairs to go up to the street. Only 10 minutes more and I'm turning onto Tverskaya to go to class. If I keep going I'll hit Red Square in mere minutes. Quick stop at Starbucks for coffee, chat with friends before going to my theater history lecture with Anatoly Smeliansky. He regales stories of Stanislavsky and Chekov explaining the intricacies of the Russian theater system and its uncanny corralation to the country's political history. After an exhileration lecture we have a three hour break (they've been going easy on us since the jet lag is still an issue). Lunch in the cafeteria, where you must have exact change and speak as much Russian as you can. My new favorite- kasha or buckwheat. I quick, efficiant lunch and we're off to Red Square. As we near the entrance, Sam distracts me so that I can look at the perfect time. After much giddy babble and anticipatory giggles Sam says, "Ok, now." My hand nearly squeezes his off as chills run up and down every inch of my body. I'm standing in the middle of Red Square facing St. Basil's Cathedral. Its vibrant minarets and colorful, intracite detail take me back to my four year old self, drawing the last purple card in a game of Candyland to finally reach the magnificant castle of King Candy. Something I could only ever see in pictures is living around me. I'm walking through history. I'm also making my own. Russian brides walk down to the Moscow River and through Red Square congradulating each other as they intersect. Their ornate dresses and white fur stoles only add to the moment. I'm in Russia. It is here in Red Square that my dream becomes a little more real. This place is living around me. No picture I can take, no words I can write will ever capture what I feel in this moment. Now is the time to take in all I can, without hesitation, and come to understand and love one of the most beautiful cultures I have ever seen.

Вся моя любовь
Сара Джейн

Almost There!

It's 10:22 in Waterford, CT and there are 30 eager students trying to get some kind of rest before leaving tomorrow morning for Moscow. We have been inundated with information from how to say "please" and "thank you" to social mores, specifically chivalrous men carrying and moving heavy objects as to keep women from putting their uterus in distress (heaven forbid you might not be able to conceive). I got to the National Theater Institute in Waterford yesterday. After a wonderful time at Skidmore I took a bus to Hartford where Sam's family picked me up and took the two of us to NTI. The Szabo's were so gracious, as always, and reminded Sam and I to stick together (don't worry Mom and Dad; I got yet another "be extra safe and careful" talk). We met everyone yesterday and jumped straight into meetings and mixers. The people have been great so far and I am excited to work with each and every one of them. There are two other girls from Texas, one is also from Houston! Shauna, the woman in charge of our orientation, is also from Houston-- what a small world. She also has worked with the Bread and Puppet Theater, a company that I would LOVE to intern with next summer.

During our conversations together there has been one topic that has truly struck me: the reverence for theater and art in Russia. In communist Russia many churches were shut down or vigorously regulated and theater began to fill the void that was left. Because of this tradition theater is a sacred institution in Russia. Artists are regarded as true craftsmen and respected highly among everyone. The concept is not even comparable to what we know in America as celebrity; there is a true reverence for the artists, theater and otherwise, in Russia.

Seeing as there is a line of people waiting to use the computers, I'm going to have to cut this one short. Tomorrow morning I will be on my way so I'll post again in Russia!!!

Love.

Premature Post

Blogging... weird.  Thanks to Kaylee and the saga of Squirrely the Skunk, I've decided to go ahead and embark on an online extravaganza of sharing my thoughts, experiences and general things I think you would like to know and I would like to remember to cyberspace.  I'm still in Houston, but I (mostly for my own benefit) want to express my current feelings leading up to the great departure for the motherland.  In twenty minutes I will have six days remaining in the great state of Texas and then I will go see my dear friends at Skidmore College one last time before heading to Waterford, Connecticut for a three day orientation at the National Theater Institute.  The most current apprehension I've been enduring is the packing issue.  However, my fears were allayed when my mother and I did a trial run today.  Looks like there will be plenty of room and then some (that means more special somethings to bring back, perhaps for you?).  I have been diligently working on my Rosetta Stone lessons which I now endorse fully for anyone who has considered making the investment.  I find myself engulfed in Russian literature, swimming in a sea of Gorky, Ostrovskey, Gogol and tussled about in the crashing waves of Chekhov.  Once I finish one of his comedies, with which I am enamored, I decide to give the tragedies another chance.  But at this crest I find the wave collapsing into utter incomprehension and bafflement.  I still haven't read The Seagull-- hopefully there will be redemption.  I hope this will be a fun and effective way of communicating with friends and family.  Ask questions, make comments, correct my grammar and perhaps even enjoy...

One last thing: Galen Koch, one of my dearest friends is blogging from India.  AMAZING THINGS!!!!  Check her out too at www.galenindia.blogspot.com