Unless you’re “reading” this monument in Persian, Urdu, Arabic, Hebrew or Yiddish, the first man you see here is Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenko. It appears to be a bit of an effort to up the director and playwright’s status. Everybody knows Konstantin Stanislavsky founded the Moscow Art Theater; not everybody knows that he did it with Nemirovich-Danchenko, a slightly older man who wrote a lot of workmanlike, traditional plays that were pretty much forgotten once they appeared at the end of the 19th century. Stanislavsky is the star, the “author” of “The System,” the great innovator and modernizer of theater in the 20th century, the discoverer of Anton Chekhov’s genius as a playwright. It’s pretty hard to overestimate Stanislavsky’s place in history. He kind of wears a halo. I think it’s fitting that in the photo immediately below it’s Nemirovich-Danchenko who has something like a halo hovering over his head, thanks to the latest snowfall shortly before I took these pictures. Still, in the description of the monument, the names chiseled in stone below the likenesses, the historical hierarchy is maintained. The letters proclaim simply: “To Stanislavsky and Nemirovich-Danchenko.” Stanislavsky is back out in front.
There are all kinds of reasons to give oneself over to cynicism and satire with anyone as famous and mythical as the founders of the Art Theater. There is the legend of their not speaking to one another over the last couple of decades of their “collaboration.” Mikhail Bulgakov lampooned that beautifully in his Theatrical Novel, often known in British English as Black Snow. There are the stories of Stanislavsky later in his life being caught by people entering his office as he played on the floor under the table and muttered to himself as he continued to search for new keys to the acting profession. There is the reality that the books which made Stanislavsky’s reputation in the West only partly corresponded to what he really wrote in his Russian originals. My colleague Sharon Carnicke wrote a great book about that called Stanislavsky in Focus.
So, yes, there’s plenty to laugh at and to be confused by in the story of the work these two men did. But, hey, what have you done for world history lately? There may be a lot of nonsense, confusion and misinformation out there because of the Moscow Art Theater. But it has long been the theater of the world. It is ground zero for the dramatic art. It is to dramatic theater what La Scala is to opera. The place. I have seen famous, would-be famous and rank amateur actors, directors and writers from all over the world stand with seeming lockjaw before the walls of the Art Theater. Brain freeze. My God, is this really the place? Am I really here?
And for all of that it was not until the fall of 2014 that somebody in Moscow saw fit to unveil a monument to the two men who dreamed the Moscow Art Theater up and then brought it to fruition, sacrificing their friendship to do so.
According to the website of the Russky Mir Foundation, the monument was created by Alexei Morozov and unveiled Sept. 3, 2014: “Alexei Morozov worked on the monument in Italy for two years. The statuary group was cast in bronze in the city of Pietrasanta, the world capital of bronze casting. The pedestal was created in Verona using the most modern technologies in the field of multi-axis stone processing.”
Ah yes, justice done. For a moment, anyway. I was at home the day the unveiling took place and the tongues began to wag almost instantly on the internet. Why do the two founders of the Art Theater stand with their backs turned to: 1) the theater itself (photo immediately above), 2) to Anton Chekhov (photo immediately below), who now looks terribly forlorn as if he has been shunted off into a dark corner to do penance. There was talk about the way Morozov made the pedestal lower beneath Stanislavsky so that he could make Nemirovich-Danchenko stand slightly higher than his more famous comrade. There were questions about just about everything one can question – taste, veracity, intent and timing. Within hours of the monument being unveiled it seemed to be that the chatty internet sphere had already chewed the statue up and spat it out.
Most of that is gerbil talk, of course. But I must admit that when I first came upon the statue I was underwhelmed, too. I wanted to be able to talk back to the naysayers, but I found myself circling the sculpture looking for something to hang onto and not quite finding it. It’s big, I’ll give it that. You can see that by comparing it to people walking by in these photos. But the two men – great men, let’s wipe off the sarcasm for a moment – look quite generic. I see no character in Stanislavsky – I see a certain justifiable resemblance. Nemirovich looks a little more interesting, perhaps, but then I say that and look at him again and I realize he looks like a Roman senator and that can’t be right.
From behind, at least at night, the ensemble is swallowed by the harsh glare of capitalistic, technologically-advanced Moscow. As big and important as these two men are for Russian culture, they drown in illuminated pixels and chaotic traffic when seen from behind.
I’ve written about plenty of great monuments on this blog that were ridiculed when unveiled and later recognized to be masterpieces. Who knows, maybe that will happen here, too, in time. As yet, however, it hasn’t.