C-MINUS FOR BEHAVIOUR

Tell me, why do we go to the theatre? Why does anyone feel the need to do this? You'll say because we're made that way, we always want bread and circuses. And you will be right. But it would be no bad thing if some people did not try to combine the two. 

Cost of bad manners 

Long ago, before Aristotle, the theatre looked quite different: sometimes performances could last three days or more. The action lasted from morning till evening and it was entirely natural that slaves and patricians brought food with them: they didn't want to die for their love of the stage! The action in a modern theatre lasts two or three hours. And performances for children are even shorter. But you get the impression that mothers, grandmothers or nannies are full of inexplicable, almost sacred, fear for the lives of their treasures. So they behave strangely, to put it mildly… However, now is the time to talk about behaviour in public. The subject is clearly rather banal: after all, we know all about this! But I only want to talk about behaviour in the theatre. Or to be more exact, the style and manners which young children are taught by their loving relatives and their not so loving teachers. Many of you know that performances for children begin at midday. Whoever buys tickets in advance presumably knows about this. But this makes no difference at all! We, today's Bakuvians, live such an unhurried, surprisingly lazy life, so disorganized in terms of time, that it is a miracle we have the energy to breathe. I am talking about most of us. It is a mystery, when did we become like this? Was it with perestroika? The collapse of the Soviet Union? Sociologists can probably answer the question. They can probably say why we used to be able to go out at 8.00 in the morning and buy milk, vegetables and herbs for breakfast and lunch, whereas now none of the traders puts in an appearance before 10.00. And housewives aren't in a great hurry either. Everything seems to have acquired a different meaning, including the theatre. People buy tickets for whatever performances they want to see. There are no longer any of the trade union committee's "must-see performances" which were so "marvellous" in the old days. So when they buy their tickets they know what time the performance starts. But we never hurry anywhere! We live according to the principle "they won't start without me". And if they do start, some city dwellers practically stamp their way to their chosen seats. And their arguments at these moments do not have much to do with public manners. "I've paid for these tickets!" a man shouts, almost hysterically but with a hint of a threat in his voice. So what if the show has been under way for 20 or even 45 minutes! What if people are sitting in the auditorium who also paid for their tickets and have been enjoying watching the action on stage! And what if the seats where he is proudly walking with his girl are in the middle of one of the first rows in the stalls! So what if everyone has to stand up, blocking the view of the stage for the audience behind, and distracting them so they begin to get stressed! He paid for his tickets. It's men that do this, please note. Women do not do this very often. And a ticket costs between three and five manats. The question arises: did Oriental men stop behaving properly a long time ago? Why are they so hysterical in their inappropriate reactions? And since when have ignorance and bad manners acquired a Rambo-esque bravado and, worst of all, become the norm, the pretty much generally accepted norm to boot? I think we have to find the answer from psychologists. But that is not all that our "hero" is capable of. Soon mobile phone calls begin. And of course he does not leave them unanswered. There is a lively conversation which of course bothers absolutely everyone, including the actors on stage. But this does not worry our Rambo. And if the usherette reprimands him quietly, she is risking a tirade that not even the dramatist would have dreamt of. Please note - this is a man talking to a woman. Please note - this is here in Baku. When did we let this happen, Bakuvians? When? Why has impermissible rudeness become possible everywhere: on the street, on public transport, in school, in the theatre, the concert hall… When was it possible for young men to talk dirty to young women in the presence of their mothers? To be rude to grown women? We are losing our city, Bakuvians! And in losing this we lose ourselves. Whatever happens happens with our tacit agreement. We have adopted a strange position - "it's nothing to do with me". That's not true. It's to do with all of us. And soon there will be no air left for normal human life and relations. It will be frightening to go out and not just at night. Because these unbridled bad manners are penetrating everywhere: even the armour-plated doors of expensive apartments. What are we leaving to our grandchildren? The principle of the French king "apres moi le deluge"? Can anything be done before it's too late? Have we turned into medieval barbarians against the backdrop of the glamour of the new millennium?

Personal model of the world

Why, for example, when they take them to the theatre, do our young mothers not teach their young sons by example that they must not be late for the theatre, they must not walk about the auditorium during the performance, they must not talk on the telephone, they must not eat and drink during the performance, they must not disturb other people in the audience by their behaviour, and especially not stop them seeing what is happening on stage? Isn't the ancient wisdom of our ancestors that we should respect other people and, especially, our elders? Why have we forgotten this? Why are we behaving like mankurts who do not remember our origins and roots? Why do we repulse people through our inability to behave in public and create such an unpleasant impression of ourselves and our nation?

Why are we talking about the theatre? Because the theatre is a microcosm where everything is concentrated: human passions and rationality, and theatre-goers are part of the passion. So during this short period of shared activity (two to three hours!), they show something in common: mentally, culturally, socially… Foreigners judge the culture of an entire people by the style of behaviour in this kind of gathering. But here is the paradox! We have learnt to behave as though we were in our own bedrooms, where we can stroll about in our pyjamas with slippers on our bare feet. Because nobody will tell us that we can't… We are also cultured and know everything. When necessary we will show that we weren't born yesterday… When necessary? And show whom? While we are spending time showing it, we will be growing older and not living. OK. Like cultured people. Creating within and around ourselves that benign, peaceful emotional aura that fosters creativity and removes aggression. It's not that difficult if you think about it. But almost impossible to carry out, because everyone wants to show the freedom that our ill-mannered Rambo was born with. Everyone has decided to stand up for their rights in terms of their own rights and importance. So when mothers take their children to the theatre they do not think that by being late and practically dragging their child behind them, who is struggling to keep up, they do not bring them pleasure, but suffering and a reflex hatred of anything to do with this art form. But every trip should be a celebration! An event in a child's life! But you have to agree, what celebration is it, what source of pleasure, when first you run, out of breath and sweating, then mum wrestles your coat off you and tries to stuff it in her bag to avoid queuing later at the cloakroom! Then you step on someone's toes in the dark, then for a long time you cannot understand what is going on on stage and you take a noisy interest in the auditorium, who's that and what do they want. The neighbours, who are the same age, try to sum up what has happened so far. But it makes things worse, because while they are explaining, they miss some of the action themselves and lose the thread of the plot. Now they have to ask their neighbours what happened. There is a chain reaction and soon the whole auditorium is making a noise. Even the actors on stage cannot be heard, so Mum gets out a rissole and starts to feed the child: you can't hear anything anyway - let him have something to eat at least! The smell fills the auditorium, tickles the nostrils and children begin to look around for the source of the smell. The usherettes manage to comment much more quickly but the mother responds indignantly, "He's just a child!" The auditorium begins to have its own life, separate from the one on stage. Someone shouts that he wants a rissole too, someone wants a drink, someone wants to go to the toilet… The magical mystery of the theatre has been destroyed as has the dialogue between the auditorium and the stage. And we're not even talking about the respect there should be for the actors - to hell with it. They'll just have to put up with this downright rudeness. But the children! Why on earth do their mothers insist on bringing them to the theatre? In order to satisfy their suburban snobbery - oh, we go to the theatre, you know, at the weekends, we're so cultured. Don't go! You shouldn't do it, because this attitude does more harm than good. It's better to feed the child rissoles at home. And if you can't turn your trips to the theatre into a weekend celebration, then be prepared for your adult children's disregard and ingratitude. They won't remember that they were given rissoles out of great love and concern. They will only remember that it was hideously embarrassing to sit in the semi-dark and gulp down their food in order to silence your insistence that they have to eat it all. Adults, since you are so busy you cannot and don't want to instil in the child an understanding that there is a huge difference between the theatre and the railway station! It is laughable to have to explain what the difference is but I think it is long overdue. Once the theatre was considered the privilege of aristocrats, but the revolution brought a quite different understanding. And it became accessible to all. Then the Bolsheviks deliberately put in a lot of effort to make sure that this form of the arts did indeed become accessible. But they educated the proletariat, inculcating in them the culture of consuming the arts. This did not take one decade. But it was amazingly successful! Any city dweller knew what the theatre was and how to behave there. But what is happening now? People pour into the theatres who were not taken to the theatre as children. They do not know how to behave there, not to mention their appearance, evening dresses, shoes etc. We're talking about basic things which our audiences do not know. The situation precisely resembles the start of the last century. But who will take on the role of enlightenment? It could be teachers who also take children to the theatre. But many of them don't know how to behave in the theatre so they behave even worse than at the station. Who then? The theatres themselves? It's a rhetorical question…

However, this is just a taste of what could be said about an important, vital problem and above all about our children, who will tomorrow represent Azerbaijan at the international level. Just don't say that it is the same in the theatre in other countries. First, let's go and see. Second, why do we always have to look for an authority which can be quoted? It is time for us to reclaim the authority of the pioneers: in music, science, health care, culture. We are a talented nation which can both study and teach. We just have to raise the collapsed image of education and enlightenment. For some reason, it has become fashionable amongst some young people not to be educated, but nonetheless to have diplomas and excessive ambition.