it's not an alet. i'm not trying to turn dramatic artists into dancers., actually, a dramatic story told. literally , that's what it's called. okay, just music and movement. but how can the immortal lermontov text be paraphrased? facial expressions are the inner filling, because of my old age i am very squeamish and cautious about all sorts of experiments, which completely touched and surprised me. uh, that this is an individual and completely personal reading, uh. i mean the director 's britmeister maxim averin for the first time tries himself in this genre, his arbenin is a man of passions of burning love, a terrible jealousy stage. such growing up, because, well, everyone is used to me i say something there. ha-ha, and here in general there are words. and it's such a thrill. everything is in contrast, light and dark , good and evil, figures curved in the dance and uncompromisingly straight lines of neon on the stage in graphite-black tones, nothing superfluous, only music and the body sounds, as the actors say, teaches the body, what is it? well, this