From normality to diversity.

Movement on the street is common, but, of course, each person in this flow is driven by his own desires, goals, problems and tasks. Everyone, in the end, has somewhere to go. Everyone is here for a reason, everyone is carrying out their own plan for the day, the week, the month and life. Everyone has their own Odyssey, their own Fleece and their own Minotaur. Everyone has their own things to do: wives and husbands, loan debts, favorite TV show, guests, dog, kids, friends, cab to the airport and never time for anything.
Somewhere in this process is supposed or exists the possibility of a stop, a pause. The performance “I'm Still Here” is situated precisely in it, in this space. In the pause between question and knowledge. Where there is no clearly articulated position, no goal and no means of achieving it, where there is a movement of thought along a given trajectory towards the uncertainty.

Why theater
Why do we need a theater that goes outside the theater building, removes itself from its comfortable place, moves away from the conventional rituals? There are several answers to this question and all of them are important.

First of all

Theater is a thing that fights for its living nature on a daily basis. Theater dies daily and more often than not the building intended for its life turns out to be its sarcophagus. So in a way it is an attempt to jump out of the family crypt and into the street.
*The author of the text does not think that all theaters inside the buildings are dead and outside the buildings are alive, it happens that quite the opposite.
Does everyone need a shake-up?
The main force on earth is not gravity, but inertia. The main ability of a human being is habit. Habit accompanies us everywhere, from choosing the route from home to work to sitting with friends. We like familiar places, companies and the way we brew coffee. We also perceive art through habit. We are used to it being good and bad, used to someone forming these hierarchies for us, telling us how to distinguish one from the other. The theater we offer is a struggle against habit. You (and we too, of course) don't have this experience: watching/playing a performance in an unprepared space. We learn to play the performance during rehearsals, you learn to watch the performance during the play. In the process, we learn to trust each other. Within the shared experience, we create new neural connections, we try to enter the field of the unknown, we take risks, we recreate reality together, we try not to be afraid.

A theater that is open to reality.

There is no theater until the performance has begun. A performance is only about the here and now, it falls apart as soon as the present becomes the past before our eyes. The theater we do is the here and now multiplied by all the entropy of the moment. No two performances will be the same. Everything and always will change and depend on the season, the weather, the rhythm of the street, specific people passing by, literally everything. This time our theater becomes a reagent taken out of the hermetic, laboratory conditions of the box stage. No one knows how reality will respond to the content and aesthetics of the performance, no one knows what meanings the action of the performance will accumulate. “The supreme pleasure of reading is not to understand!” said Alexander Vvedensky. The supreme pleasure of watching a performance is not to understand how it works, not to be completely sure that there is a performance in front of us, but to follow it. 

The theater on the street that we watch through the window?

Wasn't it easier to gather the audience in the theater parterre and play the performance on stage. Of course it is easier! In order for you to be able to watch the performance outside from the window, a lot of difficulties had to be overcome. To rehearse inside the theater and then move and check all the scenes outside, to develop the technique of getting the sound inside, to make it so that no one on the street would understand that right now the action of the performance is unfolding on it, to rent and select the appropriate sound and lighting equipment and a million more subtleties. But when we set everything up, checked everything and looked at what we had gotten for the first time, we had a feeling that it was something unprecedented. “Something” similar to film, painting, live art, TV show and theater all at the same time. “Something” for which no frame has been invented yet, ‘something’ very special and alive. All in all, this “something” was worth all the effort!