Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

curtain.
Konrad, raised on the cleanly and expertly crafted dramas of Schiller and the wild, threedimensional
tragedies of Shakespeare, was disappointed.
He had seen a sampling of modern plays in Berlin. Appropriately, Ibsen’s Wildente,
"Wild Duck" came to his mind. But Ibsen’s play, though similarly symbolic, was a colorful satire
filled with biting criticism of society and its petit-bourgeois morality. He found nothing like that in
this chaotic parable. Maybe his Russian was not good enough to fully appreciate the poetry of
the extended, albeit rather stiff love scenes, as if the lovers had never before experienced this
emotion.
Being relegated to watch more than to listen, Konrad noticed that the play was decidedly
two-dimensional, an aspect masterfully emphasized by the gauze curtains. None of the actors
ever disappeared, they only vanished into the second or third sublevel of this dreamscape,
dimly visible behind the gauze but fully present at all times. This trick gave the play its heavily
symbolic air.
The acting was superb. No role was too small to have escaped the attention of the
director. Chekhov had drawn the characters of the two protagonists so weakly by that there
simply was no commanding role in the play. That, too, heightened the moral symbolism of this
dark tragedy.
The director granted his audience no respite; he performed the entire, long play without
an intermission. Once again the ghostly seagull rose and cried her desperate cry, a shot rang
through the theater. The play was over. The dead man was never produced.
Konrad, rather cool to this experience, was curious what Alexandra would have to say.
The audience applauded madly during five or six curtain calls. In the end Chekhov appeared
arm-in-arm with Stanislavsky and his main actors. The seagull cried once more, another
ecstatic round of applause by the grateful audience.
The Prince steered them towards the bar and ordered a cognac for everyone. He
toasted to the Georgian joie de vivre and mumbled something about the tragically dense
Russian mind, saying, "Thank God we live in a sunnier climate."
Alexandra commented on the superb acting, but was otherwise uncharacteristically
silent. The Tarkhan-Mouravis offered to take Alexandra home in their phaeton, which
prevented any further fueling the rumors about their relationship, but also any discussion about
the play with Konrad.
They met on Golovinsky Boulevard to visit Henri the goldsmith. Alexandra appeared in a
long, coarsely woven skirt, a black mantilla, and high leather boots! She laughed as heartily as
her father at Konrad’s surprised stare. Her prominent nose and blue eyes completed the
disturbing similarity between father and daughter.
She surveyed his street clothes and his low, patent leather shoes with a disapproving
look. "No wonder they chased you around the bazaar. We are not going by droshki, you know.
Your shoes are highly impractical for those streets. We should order you a pair of high boots
on our way to Henri, and riding boots for Tusheti."
She took him into a dark shop behind the synagogue in Avlabada. A sign with naive
pictures of boots and shoes announced in Russian: "Anatoli Biniashvili, Shoemaker, Fine
Shoes for Ladies and Gentlemen".
The owner bowed deeply. "Princess Dadiani, I am honored by your visit to my humble
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