Reviews

Minsk, 2011: A Reply to Kathy Acker

Minsk,
2011: A Reply to Kathy Acker

takes American writer Kathy Acker’s original concept of sexuality in New York and
explores the idea and practise of sex within a dictatorship. Belarus,
the last European country to experience an oppressive regime under
Lukashenko, is still reeling from such totalitarian
control. Double standards are rife, especially in the capital city
Minsk, where lap dancers walk a fine line between being dubbed
‘erotic’ (an acceptable practice) and ‘pornographic’ (an
illegal practice), and prostitutes are employed to clear the streets
of snow. On the flip side, gay pride marches are banned,
with defiant marchers locked up to await their (very bloody) fate.

So
far, so graphic. Many of the incidents described above are enacted
with painstaking accuracy, which at times makes for uncomfortable
viewing. Yet the play, and each of its characters, still denotes a
fond attachment to the country, its traditions and battle scars. If
scars are sexy, then Minsk is the sexiest city in the world: “There
is nothing here for me”, one character muses, “and yet I can’t
leave.”

Belarus
Free Theatre have taken an imaginative, provoking and often very
heartwarming approach to this text (provided by the cast and directed
with aplomb by Vladimir
Shcherban
, who
certainly does not shy away from capturing the more difficult
themes).

The
actors create a plethora of scenarios, using their bodies and basic
props to ingeniously evoke particular images and a peppering of
realistic sound effects. Coloured balloons, for instance, are blown
up and held in the actors’ mouths, bobbed about and popped to evoke
the sound of gunshot. Batons, brooms, chairs and a whip are also used
to great effect, enhancing the action and reinforcing the fast-paced
dialogue.

The
actors, in true Brechtian style, adjust the set, and themselves, on
stage and a microphone is used to denote whose story is being told in
the series of vignettes that unfold. The final scene, however, sees
all the actors briefly and frankly depict their relationship to Minsk,
from those who never wanted to leave, to those who can never go back.
This is perhaps the most moving aspect of the show, due to its
frankness and realism. The Belarusian folksong that echoes throughout
is a constant reminder of the actors’ nostalgia for a place that
they love to hate, or hate to love.