In this section, we will be sharing our updates in quite an unorthodox way — by giving voice to specific team members in their personal columns. You will be hearing from our actors, artists, management, playwrights — basically, everyone across the board.
So it is me, Dasha Shamina, the director and curator of the theater, joining you today. Currently, the theater is at a crucial juncture as we gear up for the launch of the play "There Will Be No Wedding." It is a funny thing that we've lived with this title for several years, and now, just a few months before the premiere, we're thinking about changing it.
But regardless, here we are, crafting a play centered around the atomic bomb and the apocalypse, drawing inspiration from the experiences of the Hibakushas, which literally translates to "survivors of the light." Survivors of the bombings in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
We joke about creating a guide titled "How to Act if an Atomic Bomb Drops on You." Yet, in reality, there's nothing amusing about it. There's this intense sense that something monstrous and irreversible is looming. It's not a distant concern; it's happening regularly, and right now, it feels closer than ever. The "doomsday" clock is ticking at 90 seconds. That's not much time at all.
Currently, we're deeply immersed in meticulous research on the narratives of survivors. While many of these stories are documented, gaining access to them often required flying to Japan. Equally crucial for us was establishing a platform for dialogues with those who witnessed the explosion firsthand or endured its aftermath — children, the second generation, the Hibakusha. The term "consequences" holds immense significance in this context, seamlessly integrating with the fabric of our time. All that unfolds around us seems, in a way, the repercussions of past actions that humanity hadn't truly comprehended, now compelling us to navigate in a circular pattern.
On our journey, we brainstormed a twist around an innocent storyline about wedding preparations with a genuine exploration of the events on August 6 and 9, 1945, and the enduring impact on our world today. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t look good. 90 seconds.
The war will not disappear from our lives anytime soon, which means it’s time to look at its most terrible outcome.
Thus, that’s what we are doing these days, and we would love you to share your thoughts.
What are the prospects for humanity?
* a line from the poem by Paul Valéry that inspired the title for manga and Hayao Miyazaki's animated film "The Wind Rises"