Review: Mestariluokka

Diving into cultural terror

ARE YOU LAUGHING OR ARE YOU CRYING AND LAUGHING?

“When faced with the wall of the Kremlin of socialist realism, tragic conflicts arise. How do you write, how do you paint, how do you sing? And it’s not enough to lose popularity, rewards or paper quotas, but when freedom and life can be lost. Even the poor artist can be declared crazy and

to get treatment in Hourula…”

Is this what British dramatist David Pownall writes? No, the quote is from the Finnish prose writer Veikko Huovinen’s Uncle Joe (1988), which recounts, among other things, how strict order Andrei Zhdanov kept in the gardens of art.
Of course, it is a question of the cultural terror practiced by Joseph Stalin , which has also given rise to Pownall’s successful play.

The approaches to the problem are somehow related to each other. When tyrants are laughed at or their behaviour is humanised at least in some respects, they are finally like hedgehogs on their backs.
With a time delay, especially plays that stick to history usually live differently than when they were newborns. The masterclass is more than twenty years old, and Kurt Nuotio as director has also come to a solution at the Helsinki City Theatre that stems from a great understanding of human nature – not actions. What unites us?, he seems to ask. Many carry childhood traumas at the bottom of their minds, many are blinded by power, who isn’t afraid, and everyone gets older. Horrific crimes have been committed all over the world, not least in our own time. Those who have risen against all humanity have destroyed and destroyed.
The way in which this implementation is carried out is based on comicism, rather than sharp contrast. Laughter touches the viewer so much that it hurts. Have you ever seen someone burst into tears after laughing just a little while before? This can happen when we move in the borderline areas of emotions. There is dancing at the City Theatre, but not at the graves…

It feels as if the performance has been built on the terms of Lasse Pöysti and his acting quality. Pöysti makes his lines sound as if they were invented by him, he appeals and charms, deceives and shoots at. Childlike conclusions about good art are presented in such a provocative way that the opposing camp is stunned.
Pöysti’s Stalin is outwardly more fragile and less military than his role model, so credibility in this regard is tight, but there is still no doubt about his position at the center of the tyranny – and the acting team.
The profound humiliation of respected musicians is at times shocking, but when the whole group makes a “cantata” together, it is the highlight not only of the stage work, but also of the implementation in question, a crazy episode. Both cats and mice are intoxicated. Composing, reciting and singing is sung.

Both Esko Roine and Asko Sarkola are wide-ranging intellectual actors. Both the characters and the interpretations are different, but they complement each other. Roine as Prokofiev is more timid, alert and in pain, while Sarkola as Shostakovich is easily heated and sensitive. There is no air left in the dialogues, as they have to justify things that the other side has completely different views on.
With regard to appropriate music, Zhdanov shares Stalin’s views. They are mainly inspired by folk music. One of the most joyful moments of the evening is the dance of these bad boys, especially Martti Suosalo’s solo. Suosalo as Zhdanov acts as a counterforce not only to composers but also partly to Stalin. He brings bloodiness and welcome throughput to the stage, but perhaps the character direction has seen the character too limited in his knowledge. In any case, Zhdanov is said to have been an avid enthusiast of music, literature and history.

Hannu Lindholm’s set design creates a magnificent palace setting for the theatre, the costumes give posture and pace, and the music chosen for the play adds depth to the performance. The music is used as the most impressive and impressive effect in terms of volume, just before the intermission, when the most unfortunate albums are made clearly.