The art of resistance A Russian theater director on trial for her work addressed the judge in verse. Hear her fellow artists’ haunting rendition of her speech.
On January 9, a Moscow court extended the arrest of theater director Zhenya Berkovich and playwright Svetlana Petriychuk until March 10. The two artists have been in pre-trial detention since May 2023, when they were charged with “justifying terrorism” in Berkovich’s production of Petriychuk’s play Finist the Bright Falcon. This time, when Berkovich addressed the judge, she did so in verse. In the days that followed, actress Chulpan Khamatova; musical artists Naum Bleek, Vladi, Ligalize, and Krec; and journalist Katerina Gordeeva decided to record an audio version of the director’s poem, with musical accompaniment by Vladi. The project was initiated by director and producer Roma Liberov, and the video was directed by Roman Sivozhelezov. An audio version of the project is available on all streaming platforms.
Your Honor!
I must state:
That is indeed the case.
Nothing here to contemplate.
Our arguments and truth always seem to align,
Because from the investigation every time,
We hear the same set of formal phrases again,
And naturally, we give the same answer then!
It all repeats, again, again,
I wonder what to do, what to pen,
How to fight, where to begin.
Write a speech, sing it in Buryat, then?
Sell ads in it like a businessman?
Each time they bring us here, Sveta and I,
We hope. But it just doesn’t go our way.
As citizens, we wait for the hour of trial,
Each time, it turns out to be Groundhog Day.
There is only one answer to one question!
We give it, sometimes through screens, or face to face.
No chance to escape, that’s beyond suggestion
And witness tampering, nonexistent, in any case.
I won’t run away from home, anklet-bound,
In this drama, I stay until the final round.
And as for continuing a life of crime,
It’s impossible, for I never
For I never started it, anyhow!
I’m in Russia, under investigation’s net,
Nowhere to escape, nothing to gain.
I still have two sick kids, don’t forget,
Whose childhoods are stolen, once again.
Sixteen years in orphanages — that’s for two of them shared.
And now, at last, a home, safety, a mother’s care.
Can’t you torment me and spare them, I plead?
Simply not tormenting, that alone means the world to me.
I still have the same Moscow home,
Same registration, address well-known.
But my grandmothers: two before the arrest.
Now one. Next month, ninety, alone.
I hope, she will be...
Still, the investigation couldn’t unearth a thing,
Despite all resources and opportunity.
And no one’s in a hurry to close
Our Case of Such Complexity.
This case is dead, all sung its final note.
No saving it with forensics, interrogation, or quote.
Listen, in nine months, an expert could’ve been born whole.
And he would’ve emerged fully ready to roll.
Perhaps it’s time to end the public scorn?
We’re not in the eighties, we’ve moved forward since then.
The distinction between inquiry and a brawl
Is to prove, not to punish, yet again!
But the investigation’s content, arranging things with ease.
How convenient: the case stalls, and we just sit tight.
This strategy suits truly tough heroes, if you please.
The foe doesn’t show on the field, thus unbeaten in the fight.
Your Honor! We didn’t choose this path on our own,
And our journey can hardly be called comfortable.
You see, when the essence is unchanged and known,
The artist is left to work with the form that’s available.
The essence won’t change — there’s no different core,
Any child will tell you that, of course.
As citizens, we count on judges fair, not sore,
A bit too early for executioners, that’s for sure.
But I still believe that you’re not one of the rest,
That your judgment and candor will be put to the test.
And since this test has appeared somehow,
It means we can still await surprises now.
I’m finishing now, I don’t have four volumes,
Unfortunately, not even two notebooks to claim,
But if there’s no hope in choosing the words,
One must bet on their order all the same.
After all, the New Year has come,
The dragon’s arrived, not a spider, or a worm, or some scum.
I beg you, remember miracles, the law’s sum,
They’re nearly synonymous. Thank you, I’m done.
Judge: Extend the pre-trial detention until March 10, 2024.
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