Review: Minsk 2011 A Reply to Kathy Acker
"Strip clubs, underground raves and gay pride parades pulse beneath the surface of a city where sexuality is twisted by oppression. If scars are sexy then Minsk must be the sexiest city in the world.
A love letter to a home that exiles those willing to fight for it, Minsk, 2011 celebrates and mourns a land that has lost its way."
Indeed it does. Running in the Lyric Theatre until Sunday 4th November, Minsk 2011 is a thoroughly-engrossing, provoking piece of work. It features 9 actors who come together to play out struggles relating to: sexuality, class, objectification, and ownership - all of which converge in the city of Minsk which is grappling with terrorist attacks, social protests, and a long series of events which together led to a collective sense of disillusionment among these characters.
'Characters' may not even be the correct word to describe the players on stage. They are more typically representations of the aforementioned struggles, with one woman giving a monologue on the etiquette of staring in Minsk, and how now a person there needs less than 1 second of eye contact to decide if someone is a friend or a foe. Another woman explains how, "the sight fo a man in a uniform makes [her] feel in danger", while a homosexual man is warned against the threat of 'skinheads', who are carrying out a series of hate crimes across the city. Then there is a third woman who knows nothing about the physical appearance of The Beatles, yet is aware of the identity of Yoko Ono, showing how 'Celebrity' has come to overthrow art in some circles.
This contestation between commodification and art is a key thematic component to the play. In one telling scene, three women dance in their lingerie to Britney Spears' cover of "I Love Rock 'n' Roll", grinding to the line, "... so put another dime in the jukebox". Indeed as the narrative demands of them, these women flit from shamed and prudish to titilating and explicit, all at the request of those with the perceived power to ensure their financial security.
This comes into play again when Katya, one of the dancers, is intoxicated and almost raped by two cyber-friends who prey upon her aspirations and force her to be a sexual creature, further demonstrating how these figures operate as representations rather than characters. Yet, this is a conscious (and effective) choice, as the lack of focus on character identity serves to emphasise the disconnect felt between the citizen and the city of Minsk.
The city's gay subculture is a perfect miniature example of the city's disconnect, with a worker's canteen being turned into a gay bar from sunset to sunrise. The property's uses from Day to Night are so disparate that even the guard who closes the bar "has no idea what it looks like during the day". Deception and ignorance have become essential means of survival in this setting.
The most startling sequence of the play is one in which a central figure is stripped naked, resulting in a full-frontal view for the audience. She is then pasted with black paint, before having her shape imprinted on the ground and her naked form becoming a spectacle, a symbol of the state of the oppressed female, sexual creature.
Yet, despite its oft-morose tone, Minsk 2011 packs a punch thanks to strong performances and visual inter-cuttings of authentic video recordings of the strife in Minsk which sparked the development of this play in the first place.
With it having only a 90-minute running time, I am reluctant to say any more about the plots or the resolution the narrative offers. I will say, however, that the energy of the actors and the global resonance of the themes more than transcends the language barrier (which, for those unsure about this play, is solved thanks to subtitles overhead). Understanding the dialogue becomes secondary once the narrative establishes its pace and the actors make clear the play's perspective. Once that barrier is overcome, you are in for some beautiful, arresting, and challenging expressions of human oppression.

