In the days of rehearsing the AEROKRAFT project based on the music of Nikolay Gusev
I think about war.
I wrote text for eight scenes of the show.
I want the audience to hear the voice and listen to the words
Reading again, I decided that even without the performance these texts are of interest.
Anton Adasinsky

1
I love you, War
How much courage and light are in you
How precisely you cross those t’s and dot those i’s
How doubtlessly it can be decided who is bad and who is good
How clearly you draw the borders and decide on the destinies of countries
How many feelings and cries you give birth to in our hearts
How carefully you help women wait for men
How many hopes for a bright future are born with each shot and each explosion
How many heroes you give to the people
I am ready to go with you to the end of the war

2
I hate you, War
You’re the main thing people remember
You’re the starting point
What was before and after means nothing
You are the main thing
I hate you because you’re sitting in my head with your names and dates
With newspapers, wounds and beggars
I will not live my life happily because you will come to my door and make me suffer
I have one life, and still in this life there will be at least one war
I hate you, War, and wait for you to die

3
God, how cunning you are, War
I’ll never understand what you want
How many people you need to take
How many words you will say in your defense, how natural and glib they will sound
For each death, thousands of letters and arguments for each drop of blood, pages of gabble and lies from the leaders
You’re experienced, War
You’ll outlive us all, you’ll take a different name and start over again.
You’re sly and pratlling, War
You’re lying on your side and drinking a liqueur while others tell lies and make the decisions
And far away in the fields, boys in baggy uniforms play tag with your friend Death

4
I thank you, War
You helped me solve my problems
You persuaded me to make a choice and change my way
You took away my miseries and dried my tears
I will not have to suffer pain or aging
I am grateful to you, War
You took away my life

5
I’m the same as you, War
I’m full of hate and doubt
I need to shake the muscle and arms
I need to justify my lies and violence
I need to be cunning and diplomatic
I too get tired and want rest and silence
and I too am uncapable of just sitting and doing nothing
I too feed myself with blood and rumours
and I too forget why I fight

6
I am your father, War
You are my child, War
I’m a man, I gave you life and I named you, War
I, human
I, the one who is at war
I, the one who kills or spares
And chooses commanders and soldiers
I choose the target and the task
You’re nobody without people, War
We are at war, we the people, and you are just letters in our mouths
I am your father, War and like all fathers I want you to be the best
Grow big, War
I will lean upon your shoulder when I’m old

7
I can not live without you, War
Forgive me, War
If I do not praise your beauty and stature
Oh, how cool and arrogant you are
How forbidding and desirable
Your romance is in our songs and books
The only thing that remains
Where Death is majestic and just
Where Good always wins over Evil
But at some time, of course,
Evil will return
And swords must not rust
And I want to be the best to get into your ranks, War
Forgive me for not praising you every day, War
For only you will bring me away from boredom and malaise
You will give me direction and purpose
And you will make me believe that killing is possible
Finally! This is what we need you for, War
For a man to fulfil his dream, to kill another

8
What words I must find to make you understand how grateful we are, War!
You gave us the work of War!
We sew on buttons and cast bullets
We draw maps and brew spirits for your soldiers
We paint everything khaki and print bulletins
Aeroplanes and tanks
Cameras and boots
Condoms and sights
Vests and briefs, for summer, autumn, nighttime and underwater
Much, much work
We are millions grateful for the possibility to bring home some money and bread
Thank you! Our children will not starve
You give us all something to do
Please do not end, War
Or we’ll be unemployed
What will be left to write and talk about when you’re not there, War?
What else shall we put in our prayers, hymns and plays?

Everything is meaningless without you, War

9
I forget about you, War
I can’t remember, if it was true
If it was near death.
I see different things
How clouds fly by, how life’s rolling past
How children grow, who will never see a war
We were friends, War, but you were the last
You were old, War, living in memories of great battles
You’ve got no skill to fight like a coward
With lies, gold and oil.

You’re decrepit, war
I walked with you, Old Lady War
I wanted to trip you up and watch you dying
I wanted to commit the last murder in the world
To kill you, War

10
I thank you, War
You helped me solve my problems
You persuaded me to make a choice and change my way
You took away my miseries and dried my tears
I will not have to suffer pain or aging
I am grateful to you, War
You took away my life

11
You’re untidy, War
You’re not cleaning up after yourself, War
There is always garbage and leftovers
Dirty memories in the mind
Tattered photos
Destroyed buildings and old bombs
You’re not cleaning up after yourself, War, still in our heads
Shouts and farewells
Letters and smoke
You want us to remember everything
You leave your marks everywhere
Sweep the streets and the cities after you
Wash the rivers
Burn the bones and flood the cemeteries
Give the cripples back their arms and legs
Put their eyes back in their sockets
Make us, force us to forget you
You’re a magician, War
So make anyone who speaks your name, War
Cover his face with the palm of his hand and walk thus till his death

12*
Where’s the power
That will cleanse the Earth
Of all the filth,
The cowardice and lies
Theft and murder
Cities and countries.
Where are you, power?
Be swift, time is short
For we are clever and cruel
And the world is cramped…
Wipe out all the people
No time to swift the good from the bad
Let it again be quiet and clean,
As it was in the beginning…
Maybe next time….

* From the film «Süd. Grenze» (DEREVO, 2001)

Text: Anton Adasinsky
English text editor: David Kemp
Photo: Chester Mueller, Roman Dubinnikov, Elena Yarovaya, Carola Fritzsche

I, Anton Adasinsky, am responsible for the news text.

Everyone is hurrying me.

Here, I wrote about my dream of a tunnel.

Daniel told me to stop writing a novel in the first person, people would need some facts, where have we been, where will we be, what have we done…

Here, I wrote about where we’ve been and what’s coming up

Lena Yarovaya told me that everyone knows it anyway and that a flatfish is hiding in the sand by using vibrations.

Here, I wrote about the flatfish, although it pretends to be a maggot there.

I’m tired now.

Just read all that you want. It’s just a troubled week of April.

We were in St.P.

HARLEKIN, MEPHISTO WALTZ, the workshop (there was quite a lot of people, about sixty or so). Then there were four days of dreaming up the DROP in the OCEAN.

Then I flew back to Dresden.

I’m not getting sic easily, you know. I mean any flu, quinsy and so on. But suddenly - bamm! I woke up and realise that I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to go to the theatre. Rather I want to read something by James Fenimore Cooper. And I want a thermometer. It says to me: 38°.

Two days have passed like this. To me it’s just as unusual as reading my words in the press. Unusual but wonderful.

Is this Spring? right? really, is this Spring?

In that story about the dream in a dressing-room, I first thought it unnecessary to write about the end of running in a tunnel.

Now after a week in St.P., I have decided to end the story.

I’ve got a friend (yes, you can envy me). His name is Igor Timofeev. He lives on the outskirts of St Petersburg. He has a house, a sauna and twenty-eight guitars.

This place is my cavern. When I can’t cope anymore with hearing somebody else’s heart, I can escape there,into the sauna.

Everything describable just stops there. Words and actions change their meaning or lose it completely. We speak to each other there but subjects are not known to us and they’re not suggested by us.

He had a dream.

The manner, as he told it to me, refers to the special language of the steam room.

“raised on horizon… colour of the sky changed… like it was needed there… but they’re drawing here unnatural and a big piece… I unbuttonned the shirt to meet the punch… twenty seconds are still there… first light then I close my eyes then a sound, and in the sound I understand… stand and wait and then the air blows and it’s twisted… ribbed… I see the great playful movements of an accordion which you can touch with your hands… and the eyes flying towards you and me… do you understand!? I’m flying through the nuclear explosion and to my framework… to my skeleton everything is clean understand?? washed and cleaned and inflatable eyes maybe five meters large and I must turn them somehow…”

Then I could remember the rest of my own dream. I’ve never forgotten it to be honest.

I was running and following Pieretta to the stage. It’s a long tunnel. She’s lighter and faster, I wouldn’t be able to reach her. And suddenly I was not chasing her anymore but simply running, precisely and evenly. It was the run to the stage. I kissed my shoulder while I was running there.

On the opposite wall, there was a big letter “E” and then “A”. I realised that I must remember them, for I was running towards the beginning of these words. It’s not hard. When the letters were over I could put together the words “Heat Mode”. Now I was running directly towards the red glow. It was very easy to run.

We’ve added our dreams. I can’t quite remember what has happened after it. Nastya said something about a butterfly who gives a flower a slap in the face. We reproached her with poeticizing of men’s problems. However, the picture of that night has been completed: a butterfly and the hysterical kiss of a light bulb…

Ode to a one-day fly

The worm lying in a tight cocoon
Your life goes forth unhurried
You see no spring, you’re purposeless.
You’re sure you’re resting here for ever.

It’s so delightful, so silent here.
One year or two
But suddently there’s a coolness cracking in.
Scream, you worm! death is coming
Your shield is crackling and it’s scary. Scary!
The wind has blown away the pieces of the cocoon.

Are you dead? No, alive.
So what is that?
Where’s your house? Where’s the tightness and the dryness?
And the crushing there is again like thunder!

Behind your back two wonderful wings unfolded
And you are flying, you are singing.
Your day is in the sky, exposed to the wind
And to the sun of the world

You have been thinking this is death?
But this is life.
Exactly one day long.

Text: Anton Adasinsky
Photos: Elena Yarovaya, C. Friedlander, Lena Dolmatova, Roman Ekimov
Photo Design: Elena Yarovaya

In May Anton and the Positive Band hope to finish the promised CD “Cat on Accordion”. Meanwhile you can enjoy the new video by Andrey Gladkikh to the song “All Seasons” by Andrey Sizintsev, Nikolay Gusev and Anton Adasinsky.

In June the WEISSE FESTUNG (WHITE FORTRESS) happened at the beautiful pond in the historical city centre in Dresden. After the last year’s success they asked us to repeat the open-air action. It was far too easy to persuade us in this case.

On and In the Water:

Anton Adasinsky, Lena Yarovaya, Pavel Semchenko (AKHE), Andrey Sizintsev (AKHE), Alisa Oleynik, Maxim Kuznetsov, Lidiya Makeeva, Lidiya Kopina, Tatyana Belousova, Valentin Tzin, Alexey Lanskoy, Nastya Ponomareva

The crew

Daniel Williams - Sound, Steffen Köhler - Technical direction, Falk Dittrich - Light, Igor Fomin - Light for floating objects, Isolde Matkey - Management, and many assistants - everything that wouldn’t be possible without them

Film by Andrey Gladkikh

See also WEISSE FESTUNG Day by Day »

This is a first video from the future film project about DEREVO Backstage.

Here we rehearse the open-air project “The Fight Of The Harlekin With His Own Shadow In Search Of The Barrel of Wine And The Eternal Life” to be performed on 27 June and 9 - 11 July 2010 in the courtyard of the late gothic castle Albrechtsburg in Meissen, Germany.

More info about the Albrechtsburg castle (German) »

Tickets online »

Camera & cut: Andrey Gladkikh
Participants: DEREVO

For many years DEREVO works together with the videographer Andrey Gladkikh. Virtually all videos of the performances, projects and actions by DEREVO were made by him. At the same time he has his own projects. I’m delighted to introduce one of them. From my point of view this is a wonderful Trailer for his documentary film about the veps or vepsian people. We will probably show you the entire film later.

Anton Adasinsky, DEREVO

I went to the show… or I was taken there to be precise.
A puppet show. A cloth and two puppets hanging. A Boy and a Girl.
7 and a half people in the audience…
tears in my eyes. The world becomes so pure and bright.
On stage, no people smelling of life, no newspapers with murderers.
- Hide quoted text -

Just the cardboard heart, the crumpled silk flower and a small bag of
money (don’t know anymore what for, whether a dowry or ransom…)
Quite an old story. Sound of toy horses and barrel organs. It just
can’t be true.
And at the end the cashier Yershov is hanged at the gallows.

Outside I smoked and blew my nose. Silk, Gypsies and Fandango.

Do you remember? Mommy, mommy, it hurts…

So here’s a song about the small bag of happiness.
Listen to and obey…

Thanksssss…

Anton

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Anton Adasinsky - Lyrics, Music, Bass, Vocals
Igor Timofeev - Guitar, Vocals
Nikolay Gusev - Keyboards, Vocals
Andrey Sizintsev - Elektro-Percussion, Vocals
Viktor Virvich - Drums
Alexey Rakhov - Saxophone

Recorded and mixed at Studio “36″ and “Studio Grey”, St. Petersburg, 2009.
Finished on April Fool’s Day.

Camera & cut: Andrey Gladkih
Design: Elena Yarovaya

© DEREVO GbR (Dresden), 2009

Please respect musicians – watch and listen in good quality!
High quality link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYySlcv19Cw&fmt=18

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Photos by David Pokorni, Anna Bogodist, Roman Ekimov, Olga Arefieva, Elena Yarovaya
Photo design: Elena Yarovaya
English text editor: Jennifer Williams

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