PESSIMIST'S ADVENTURE

Volodyusha...  This was what he called himself when publishing his first feuilleton in an Odessa newspaper - the 14-year-old Volodya Schweitzer, Nikolay Chukovskiy's diligent pupil. To his friends and loved ones he remained Volodyusha for the rest of his life; with the stress on the third syllable. They liked to call him by this name - with affection, in a familial way, expressing in this way their love and appreciation for someone who is able to fill the surrounding space with his personality in modest fashion.

His passion for writing manifested itself very early. He liked to pun, invent funny stories, tell them in hilarious style and impersonate the characters he himself had invented with amazing verisimilitude. Thanks to his good nature, he was always the life and soul of any company, and friends simply adored him. But his unaffected ease and affability were not his only attractive features. From early adolescence until ripe old age, Volodyusha remained a generator of different, new ideas - at times the most fantastic and adventurous ones. He became bored within the framework of just one idea, even if it was implemented in the most thorough fashion! Life had to appear diverse to him, rather than grey, his senses alert, impatiently, wearing his heart on his sleeve. But his private life remained a secret to us. What was his family like?  Was he ever in love? The archives of Baku failed to preserve letters, diaries or personal photograph... To all appearances, he routinely boring and therefore insipid. It had to be a firework, a festival. So that's how he lived - fully, with generated a great many ideas and was very talented. And like many talented people, a little undisciplined. Hundreds of feuilletons and science fiction short stories are left in the pages of countless newspapers and magazines in Odessa, Baku, Yekaterinburg, Rostov-on-Don, Moscow, Kharkov and Tashkent.  It is good that at least his films, which are part of the golden treasury of Soviet cinematography, remain!  He took an interest in cinema in 1915 and wrote a great many scripts for films of the time. Theatrical work became a separate and very illuminating, if not too lengthy, page in the life of this creative man.

How it was...

He was born on 25 February 1889 in Baku and spent his childhood in Odessa. In that period of his life, he took his first steps into journalism and his first pen names, including "The Pessimist."  It was this pen name under which he would go down in the history of Soviet arts as an original, and almost odious, persona. Later, when Vladimir Schweitzer became famous and popular, many people who knew him well would say that the pen name was nothing but his mordant comment on the world and himself, because what the buoyant and very imaginative V. Schweitzer certainly did not seem to personify was pessimism. Leonid Zorin - yet another famous Bakuvian - used to exclaim: "Pessimist! It is rare to see such zest for life!"

He spent his adolescent years in Baku, where he studied at the Lavrov school and was one of the leaders of the social democratic "pupil's committee." But this was not enough for Volodyusha. His bent for secrecy, danger, youthful idealism and adventure led him to Iosif Dzhughashvili's Bolshevik organization. There, he began to produce propaganda leaflets and prove that he was a gifted writer. However, the secret police also noticed his talent and, thanks to their "close attention," the 18-year-old Vladimir was forced to flee from Baku, in 1907. He soon re-emerged in Yekaterinburg with a forged passport and a false name, Nizharadze. The energetic and still very young "native of the Caucasus" soon became a reporter for the Uralskaya Zhizn newspaper. His reports, feuilletons and satirical pieces stood out from the work of local journalists for their style, phrasing, surprising turns of plot and fine literary language. V. Schweitzer's style of writing was reminiscent of A. Averchenko's and A. Amfiteatrov's styles. Four years in Yekaterinburg honed his writing skills, taught him Aesopian language and earned Volodyusha so much popularity that he had to change his place of residence again. After moving from one Russian city to another, V. Schweitzer finally arrived in Moscow. He began working with the Rampa I Zhizn magazine there, took a great interest in the theatre, grew fond of cinematography, started to write movie scripts and made friends with Aleksey Tolstoy. In the end, already a famous journalist and man of letters, he received a proposal to work with the Letuchaya Mysh theatre. He accepted it gladly and set to work with great pleasure. The theatre, which staged short plays, a cabaret-type theatre, was hugely popular with Muscovites. Small scale theatre fitted in with the ideology of the new government very well. And V. Schweitzer plunged into the world of theatre with his usual optimism. He did not even dream back then that in just three or four years' time, he would himself head a revue theatre, write plays, cast actors and direct (and that all this would be one of the greatest adventures of his life!). He did not suspect that there would be a sharp turn in his life, even when, one hot July evening in 1920, he, together with his entire troupe, which was headed by Nikita Fedorovich Baliyev, entered the carriage of a train from Moscow bound for Baku.

Suitcases, packs, boxes of stage props, cardboard hatboxes, the speeches of people who had gathered to see the troupe off, the hugs and kisses of friends, excited shouts from the crowd, accompanied by the solemnly obtrusive marches of a brass band - all this seemed like a gala fuss to Vladimir Zakharovich Schweitzer, head of the literary department of the Letuchaya Mysh theatre. In his capacity as Nikita Baliyev's right hand, he was to check before departure that all documents were in order: Glavpolitput's permit to perform at all the railroad depots on the Moscow-Baku route; that all members of the troupe and their families were present and many other things. But deep in his heart, there was the pleasant anticipation of seeing the city he loved and which he had not seen in 13 years, but where part of his soul remained forever. A happy and most joyous time! However, not everyone on that train supported the new government. As the propaganda train moved towards the shores of the warm Caspian Sea, discord -- professional, creative and political - grew stronger. This could not end well. And when the troupe finally arrived in Baku in late August, passions were already excessively high. Not many people shared the views of V. Schweitzer, who believed in the ideal model of the Communist future. And Nikita Baliyev was among his staunchest opponents. Together with most members of the troupe, Baliyev was considering emigration. After the two planned performances for workers of the Baku railroad depots, the Letuchaya Mysh theatre was dissolved. The troupe effectively fell apart. However, despite this, they all still went to Tiflis, where they gave one performance and, after that, most of the troupe and Baliyev embarked on a ship to Turkey. Only a few returned to Baku, Vladimir Schweitzer among them. And he it was who spared no effort in creating, 87 years ago, a theatre which is known now in Azerbaijan as the Samed Vurgun Russian Drama Theatre.

The revue theatre

Although it was done quickly, it was not easy. Volodyusha's optimism and inexhaustible imagination proved to be vital in that situation. Realizing very well that in a large, multi-ethnic city at the crossroads of East and West a revue theatre, a theatre of political propaganda would be much in demand, V. Schweitzer, after discussion with colleagues who had decided to stay in Baku, went to the head of the Caucasus branch of the Russian Telegraph Agency S. Ya. Bagdatyev. Let us not forget that this happened in late August-early September 1920. And let us remember at the same time that Baku, which in the early 20th century was an excellent example of multi-ethnicity and multiculturalism, had a huge number of different theatres! Many of them were mayflies and existed for only one season. Others, like A. Polonskiy's theatre, were successful for decades. But there was no politically progressive theatre to act as a mouthpiece of the ruling party. However, let us return to the dialogue between Mr S. Bagdatyev and Mr V. Schweitzer. The latter was so persuasive and eloquent in justifying his idea that by late September, government newspapers were publishing a decree on the opening of a fundamentally new revolutionary revue theatre.

A building was found for the theatre very quickly (in the former Tagiyev passage at 4, Olginskaya Street, now Mammad Rasulzada Street) in the centre, next to the Baku Boulevard. And as soon as 20 December 1920, the new theatre, called the Free Satire and Propaganda Theatre, was officially opened. Volodyusha immersed himself in the work to create the theatre with great enthusiasm. Drawing on his experience at Letuchaya Mysh and taking into account the proletariat's great interest in theatrical performances, he created memorable, scathing, witty and, from the literary point of view, excellent plays. From the very first days of its existence, the theatre won the hearts of its audience and worked only for its audience. V. Schweitzer knew very well that the people who attended his performances were yet to understand what theatre was. But Volodyusha was inventive, and not only in Aesopian language! This was how a rapport between the different types in the audience and the stage was established. And for three years this dialogue was quite fruitful too. But all things come to an end. Or to be more precise, they draw to a logical conclusion. And the same thing happened to the Satire and Propaganda Theatre. At the end of the third season, Volodyusha staged a long play, which he was not supposed to do in principle. The theatre was supposed to stage only short performances! Of course, the city authorities were shocked, to say the least. But there was nothing else to be done. The day of the short propaganda sketch was over. The audience was clearly bored and V. Schweitzer had to resort, at his own risk, to multi-act plays to keep his audience. However, judging by the fact that by the end of the third season he was writing fewer plays, we may guess that, as a man who could not stay within the framework of the "same old routine" for long, he himself was also fed up with the small form of theatrical sketches. And, with the support of his colleagues, he again raised the issue before the authorities of renaming the revue theatre and developing a normal theatrical repertoire. And he was lucky again. Realizing that the era of short propaganda performance was over and that there was a need to "sow wisdom, sow the good, the eternal" among the masses and that the mission of educating, enlightening and guiding had to be carried out in other forms, the city authorities issued a directive to rename the Satire and Propaganda Theatre; it became the Baku Workers' Drama Theatre. In October 1923, the new theatre staged its first play, K. Minin's "City in the Circle." It was an event of tremendous importance. The local newspapers carried teasing headlines.  The citizens, or at least those who considered themselves theatre-goers, waited impatiently for a new building for the theatre. It became available one year later, on 9 January Street, in the former Mikado movie theatre building. Since then the building, which has undergone two capital repairs in 80 years, has been the theatre's permanent home. Did Vladimir Zakharovich Schweitzer know that he had laid such a firm artistic foundation for his theatre that it would live for such a long time? He probably did not. He began to build a new form of theatre. He travelled extensively, selected actors, invited stage directors and designers and worked on the repertoire. But as soon as he saw that the theatre was up and running, he became bored once more. Those who understood this restless man were expecting changes already by 1926. And changes there were, with the next simply fantastic project by the inexhaustibly inventive Volodyusha. This time, it was a plan for a "broad, artistic theatrical expansion"; the gist was the creation of a Transcaucasus Theatre, by merging the Baku Workers' Theatre and the Tiflis Red Theatre of Proletarian Culture.

Both theatres were to have their own professional troupes, buildings and budget. The only thing the theatres were to have in common was their artistic management - stage directors, designers, composers and literary managers. The repertoire of both theatres was to be organized in such a way as to make it possible to exchange plays between Baku and Tiflis. By autumn 1926 this fantastic project was partially put into practice. And V. Schweitzer became the administrative manager of both theatres. But as was to be expected, this situation did not last long. The concept of ideal collective creativity (quite utopian!) failed to find an ideal way of practical implementation. The newspapers were full of scathing headlines and critical articles about The Pessimist who abandoned the theatre, its repertoire policy and, in general, failed to succeed in the task of dual management!  Despite these escapades, he persisted for some time in trying to implement the idea of a creative union of the two theatres. But alas, in the end he had to choose between the two theatres. He chose Tiflis. Not because he liked it more than Baku. Simply his term within the framework of a scenario entitled the "Baku Workers' Theatre" had expired. His indomitably restless nature longed for change, for qualitatively new heights. And his craving for a change of air, which had become a habit as a result of his none too tender relations with the tsarist secret police, also played some role. So he left for Tiflis. However, he did not sever ties with his native city and equally native theatre. He returned periodically to produce a play. But his visits became increasingly rare. Then he left for Moscow. With his usual energy, he resumed his once interrupted work in cinema. He started to write scripts.  Movies were made from those scripts. Many of them entered the treasury of Soviet cinematography; like "The Real Man," "Puppets," "Vasilisa the Beautiful," "The Humpback Horse," "Koshchey the Immortal" and others. During the Great Patriotic War, he lived in Tashkent, where a movie was filmed from his script. And from there, in the 1940s, he came to Baku to produce a play. He still had many friends here. During his visits, he lived in the Intourist hotel and liked very much to take a stroll on the Baku Boulevard on his way to the theatre. Did he have a family? We were unable to find out. Nothing is said about his private life in the old accounting books. And no other documents could be found about the man who founded in Baku a theatre which, on 20 December 2008, turns 88 years old. Several photographs are preserved in the archives of the State Museum of Theatrical Arts. On some of them, he smiles. More often, he is serious. This is the Vladimir Zakharovich Schweitzer of the 1920s, a man who, like Baron Munchhausen, wanted to give people joy and happiness all the time. And he gave the city a theatre which became a cultural centre and home to many generations for many years and in which Melpomene and theatrical legends, myths and stories still live. Incidentally, the stories are also in the same style as V. Schweitzer's sci-fi stories. They live for a very long time and spread by word of mouth from one generation to the next. And young actors, who come to the theatre intending to stay there for their entire lives, look into the dim shadows of the aisles and curtains which are, according to theatrical lore, haunted by the ghosts of dead actors. And they always wear the costumes of their best roles...

Today, as the house built by V. Schweitzer is popularly known by its old name, the Russian Drama, undergoes its third capital repair and, thanks to the efforts of the head of state, again opens its doors to Bakuvians and guests of the capital city, it is appropriate to remember the person who stood at the foundation of the theatre. Vladimir Zakharovich Schweitzer. The Pessimist. Volodyusha. A man who, according to Leonid Zorin, "had a knack for tasteful living and generously expended his huge energy on stage direction, dramaturgy and cinematography." This is precisely how the first director and creator of the theatre which moulded the professional careers of so many artistes appears when we look back through the decades -- restless, energetic, witty and endlessly devoted to his art.