MOSCOW ART

GAIEFF: Here are anchovies, herrings from Kertch . . . I've had no food today."

Stanislansky, playing the part of the brother in "The Cherry Orchard", worried long over the proper intonation for this passage, a drop from tragic heights to--anchovies. He was satisfied only when he recalled an incident from his iron-worker days in Moscow. He remembered hearing a father whose eldest son had just died describe to him the proper way to cook an egg.

Twenty years of such searching for just the right tone, scrupulous attention to detail which discovered the slightest inappropriate gesture, have made the Moscow Art Players the most finished group of actors on the modern stage. But they are more than highly polished puppets; they are artists chosen for their ability "to synchronize their own feelings with those of the role." They are asked to portray only those characters whose experiences in some way resemble their own. Indeed, the nearest English equivalent to the Russian wording for acting is the phrase "deep feelings".

The group has worked together so long as an experimental theatre in Russia that it has become molded into an artistic unit. There is no protrusion of a "star" in their performance; each is subordinated to the whole effect. Nor is the play itself buried in the interpretation. Theatricalism is not allowed to interfere between the audience and the genius of such Russian dramatists as Tchekhov and Gorky.

The plays are given in Russian, and their remarkable popularity with unlinguistic Americans seems somewhat strange at first glance. It is true that they attract a certain number who would listen to Chinese or Polyglot simply because it was the thing to do. But such sincere art as this could never degenerate into a mere fad. Audiences who are seeking the artistic, do not find it spoiled merely because some of the subtleties are lost in a foreign tongue. One catches the inspiration of the Winged Victory of Samothrace, even though it has no head, no feet, and only one arm.