"Do you love planned days?"
This question was recently addressed to me by a close
person. I could not unambiguously answer this question "yes" or
"no", but during our dialogue we just came to the conclusion that it
is often necessary to plan the days, because otherwise I will forget half of those
things that I have to do. The probability of an enterprise quite often depends
on various factors, and plans start branching out, because in fact you could not
know which branch will work and which one will fail. Sometimes it happens that
something intrudes into a carefully planned schedule, something which forces us
to move away from all schedules and plans, or be more and more late for each of
the subsequent meetings. In any case, it seems to me that the planning of the
day is a kind of discipline, by following which we just learn to be prepared
for any surprise, be it an unpleasant coincidence, a pleasant meeting or an
amazing adventure.
There is also a category of disruptions of our plans called force majeure. These are situations when
we are forced to submit to the will of the Higher Powers. Such situations are
specially noted in official papers and legal documents, with special reservations
that, so to say, in case of force majeure,
this or that side is not responsible for the consequences. The situation is not
pleasant, so when we hear "force
majeure" negative associations unconsciously appear in our minds.
However, sometimes the Higher Forces create small, sometimes insignificant or
inconspicuous force majeures, which cause
some surprises to happen.
This year the annual Armmono Festival was held from April 29
to May 3. Fortunately, these dates basically coincided with the days off and
holidays celebrated in our country, and so I dissolved in the theater halls,
running from one to another in between performances to catch up with the start.
As always, regular viewers managed to make friends, maintained interesting
conversations, made the atmosphere of the festival even more festive.
A couple of weeks before the festival, one of my new
acquaintances, a promising young actor, invited me to attend their graduate production.
I'd just seen some photographs of the stage layout, and I was very interested
in what will come out of it all. I promised to come, and so I was waiting for
the announcement. And so, a few days before the festival, I am getting an
invitation from this very actor, I am agree to attend, I am opening the
schedule for the upcoming week to add a note... and I realize that the premiere
falls on the very middle of the third day of the festival – May 1. "Well,
I'll have to miss three performances: a mono-opera (I have not yet seen such
performances yet), a performance by a famous actress from Ukraine, and one of
our debuts, which were quite many this year.
No. The play to which I was invited was not that force majeure I am going to talk here
about. Those were a bottle of beer with a nourishing cheburek (deep-fried flat patties filled with minced meat), which I, having
got hungry, bought after the planned visit of the first of the 1st
of May performances. I was sitting on a bench in the garden near the Republic
Square, I was eating and drinking without any rush, and during that process
something somehow made me believe that between 17:00, which was the end of the
very debut that I was going to miss, and 17:00, which was supposed to be the start
of the play, which I had to visit, there were enough minutes and seconds for me
to have time to run from the Sundukyan State Academic Theater to the National
Theater. In reality, the distance between them is 0.87 miles, which usually can
be traversed in 17-18 minutes.
So now I had to hurry to make it to the beginning of the
debut "Վերադառնում եմ, մոռացեք..."
("I am returning, forget about it..."). Fed and happy, I was ready for
any continuation of the day. After all, I could get out before the end of this
performance, to be in time for the beginning of another one. Having got into
the space under the main stage, I realized that I would have to stand behind a
massive beam that would cover 80% of the view I got if I had to sit. But I
could move freely, and so I kept track of what was happening on stage. And on
the stage a young actress Nvard Dudukchyan (Նվարդ Դուդուկչյան) was telling the story of a woman who
lived in those cold and hungry years in which I happened to live. She painted
images and situations so accurately that I was going from bitter memories into
optimistic laughter, out of admiration for the beauty of the human nature into
the darkness and cold of that time.
The only thing I did not quite understand was her age: the debutante looked very fresh, young, but she was about thirty years old, no less.
And I understood all the rest, I accepted it, and accepted
again and so for an hour, while she was devoting herself to her play. I liked
what I see more and more, and I realized that I would definitely be late for
that another performance, but I did not resist. I increasingly believed in what
I saw, more and more often repeating "Yes! Yes! Yes!" inside of me, my
spirit was calm, and I felt euphoria of happiness, when suddenly ...
... someone’s cell phone rang.
Not only people in our audience do not turn their phones off
prior to the beginning of a performance. This disease is inherent in all. I
remember how during two out of the three Peter Hammill concerts in London this
year at the very beginning of the songs (with quite a dramatic content) someone’s
cell phone started ringing. But then the person in the audience, embarrassed,
interrupted the call, turned the phone off and tried not to meet the eyes of those
who were there until they forgot about him (or her). But in our case, a man collapsed in his seat
in the middle (!) of the first (!!) row answered (!!!) the call and, as if
nothing had happened, began to find out his relationships with someone.
This was the force-majeure
that was due to happen to Nvard, and it depended solely on her through which of
the branches of the unforeseen, unplanned situation she would get out of it.
"Hold on! Hold on! Do not break! Take
it! He will finish his stupid conversation soon..."
...
I had to hurry after the performance, but the audience kept on
and on and on applauding, congratulating, wiping away tears and glowing with
smiles, but I had to tell her one phrase, and only after that I could leave the
theater. "It was a debut worthy of Triumph," I said (this is the name
of a certain category of the festival awards).
Nvard is an unusual person (as well as each of us). The
range of her interests is really pleasing, the desire to create commands high
respect, and the openness with which she challenges the new, gives confidence
that our youth deserves admiration and attention. Confusion with age was
resolved when I found out that she was not yet twenty. She was among those who
came to my concert at the end of June and we even had some time to briefly talk
in "how are you doing?"
manner.
A week ago, I learned that a slightly modified version of the
same performance was to be played on the 3rd of July in the Winter
Hall of the Sundukyan State Academic Theater. "Winter – that would be
great with our forty-degree heat!"
Despite the evening time, the heat was still persisting, but
we somehow coped with it. This time I was lucky with my seat: I was sitting in
the first row next to the left side of the stage, so I could see everything
that had escaped me on the first of May ... But were there, during the debut,
those very tears, real tears, tears alive that I was seeing now? I do not
remember, but it was not important now, now, when she was once again telling
the story that happened in the years when she was not even born, and when
listening to it, we were crying, smiling, weeping again, then laughing – and applauding!
She was talking about those cold days, wearing a few woolen sweaters, a hat,
gloves, winter boots, a handkerchief (yes, we clothed like that in those
years!), and understanding how unbearably hot it was now for her, we still felt
that cold of the early 90's. Ropes in her hands came to life and became people
with different characters and destinies. She was creating pictures, she was working,
she was trying...
... and only after the performance did she learn that on the
same day, the first of May, when she appeared before the real audience, many of
whom did not understand a word of what she said, when she masterfully turned
into a woman who could had a daughter of her age, when she did not break down in
front of an indifferent audience occupying the most privileged place – on that
very day she had grown to become an actress, and as confirmation of this came
the news that she had received an invitation to take part in an international
theater festival, about which we soon, I hope, will learn firsthand.
Nvard did not make plans for the future prior to her debut.
She correctly assessed her strength and worked conscientiously on here and now basis. She read her role,
she did everything right, but added a little touch of Life – and so she was
able to stand the force majeure,
which was specially created to test her for strength. She made everything as it should on last Monday, but she
invested even more Life. By the way,
this time there was someone with the
phone among the audience again (more than once the phone rang), but Life
does not like to repeat itself, and so this call had no more power over Nvard. Life
is already preparing for her and for each of the Young Generation something
new, something special, something that they all have to face and not to break.
Then the new horizons will open for them.
In the meantime, I want to wish them all to love what they
are doing and to do what they love. They are so good at it!
The Higher Powers laugh at us when we are planning our
days. So, probably, I would say I love the planned days, because on such days so
many unexpected things can happen.
