From the author: Summer is just around the corner. It's time for vacations and travel. Relaxation in any form, even if it’s just sleeping in a hammock at the dacha. It's time to analyze your dreams! The article is just about this. Based on materials from the author’s blog “Your Psychologist” Zhanna and I have never been theatergoers. Although we visited various performances very often. In general, they looked like experts. We tried to follow the form, but did not penetrate the essence. We tried to be like them. These emphatically spiritual comrades who consider the theater their second home. They know the actors and dancers by name and face. Some of them we actually know in person. Moreover, they are aware of all the gossip about the personal lives of the performers, informed about their work disputes and other theatrical feuds. I wonder where? Fanatical admirers greet the grannies-ticketeers as if they were relatives and quickly fly past the buffet to the portrait gallery. They loudly discuss the latest rumors, looking contemptuously at everyone who accidentally strays into the temple of Melpomene. They have long studied the entire “decent” repertoire throughout the entire space of their great homeland. They easily provide a detailed comparative analysis of different directors' interpretations of the same play in Moscow, St. Petersburg or, say, Ryazan. Yes Yes Yes. Some desperate heads visit the capital only to meet the next masterpiece of their favorite author, screenwriter or actor. Nowadays such tours are possible abroad, but I am writing about distant times. True connoisseurs of the stage confidently talk about innovation in the design of costumes and stage sets. Moreover, they know who the artist of this production is and what the original sketches were! They remember the main and backup cast by heart. They desperately boo lazy people and hacks. They come to performances with flowers and scare other spectators with sudden cries of “Bravo-bravissimo!!” Although it is precisely this quality of passionate theatergoers that has always confused me. The exclamations of delight seemed unnatural to me. This is so stunning to the neighbors! Zhanna came much closer to the cherished image than I did. It was she who initiated our campaigns. She knew what and where “they would give us”, got tickets, jostled in lines, chatted with resellers, found out the way, coordinated our plans. I think that she could watch plays alone, but it’s not customary for girls to visit public places alone. I readily agreed, because the prospect of spending another evening in a small, cold room in a hostel seemed unbearable to me. The people in the dorm were either drinking, sleeping, or fucking. Sometimes he ate, washed and even did laundry. From time to time, everyday life was diversified by fights and violent neighborly squabbles, but this quickly became boring. True, some were quite happy with this state of affairs and during the entire year of internship they did not move further than the nearest grocery store. This is in St. Petersburg! Zhanna and I were not one of them. A different life beckoned us. Of course, we visited not only the theater. We traveled around all the suburbs, visited a lot of palaces and museums, listened to music, went to some lectures on herbal science. In the meantime, I also trained as a psychotherapist and went to the movies. But going to performances was equivalent to going out into the world. During the marathon, even in jeans. In addition, it smacked of adventurism. It is clear that a couple of young intern doctors from their outback never had much money. And what we had instantly burned in the crucible of inflation. So we desperately saved on everything, trying to catch two peas on a spoon. We succeeded in this for most performances! The cheapest tickets were purchased at the box office. On the sides of the boxes or the last rows of the gallery. From there you can hardly see anything and they are always available. At the box office they also gave us a discount on our listener tickets, just like for students. We passed ticket control without any problems and wandered around the lobby until the third bell. The main thing here is to be behind the caretaker in time and assess the situation in the stalls. The fact is that there are always empty seats in the hall. Usually solitary. Well,someone was late, got sick, got lost along the way. Even if you forgot your ticket! Often these are the most expensive places that no one dares to pay for. It was them that Zhanna and I looked out for over the attendant’s shoulder. And when they began to close the hall, they rushed in like latecomers and confidently occupied the right chairs. All. Ease of viewing during the first act is guaranteed! Even if the rightful owner comes, who paid for this landing site, he will not be allowed into the stalls after the start of the action. And after the break, we'll see. People there start to leave. Some are upset, others are out of need. And in general, rarely does anyone have violent conflicts. This is the temple of the muses! You can always sit down and resolve the misunderstanding peacefully. Like, I mixed up the ranks... In general, how much money we saved on tickets then! The scheme works, even now! However, there were two exception theaters. BDT and Mariinsky. The first one is always sold out and tickets sell out on the day of sale. Not a single empty space! And at the Mariinsky, the architecture and layout of the building itself is designed so that social layers do not intersect or mix. God forbid! The Imperial Theater cannot be democratic in the full sense of the word! If you have a ticket to the third tier, then you will not go below the second. You are not allowed to enter the stalls, boxes or amphitheater. There are foreigners there! The controller's aunties are vigilant as they should be. Moreover, you can always identify a student by his clothes. Although, thanks to the Mariinsky Gallery, I made an important discovery. Performances are best watched from afar. The further from the stage, the more magical the mystery. I don’t understand the fans of the first rows! There the simple artificiality of what is happening becomes obvious. The dusty scene bears little resemblance to the marble floors of palaces. The scenery is eccentric and incongruous. The satin dresses of high society ladies are made of silk-polyester lining, and the wide-toed boots of gentlemen are made of leatherette with plastic buckles. Costumes often don't fit because they were made for another comedian. The actors blush and sweat under the spotlights exactly when, according to the plot, they should turn pale and freeze. Stubborn locks of their hair escape from under their voluminous wigs. On the tables are fruits made of polyethylene and dishes made of papier-mâché. Cardboard mountains, fabric rivers and plastic thickets. The performers' make-up is deliberate and noticeable from the farthest rows. I will say more, only there it seems natural! And only in this way, sitting on the top, can a forty-year-old man be mistaken for an ardent young man, and a plump middle-aged lady be confused with a consumptive courtesan. It seems that the art of theater requires quite a bit of distance. In every sense. This confused me. An obvious departure from reality. There was a clear feeling of the falsity of everything that was happening. I wanted to close my eyes or leave. And before that, shout. And to the audience and actors. - Yes, you are all lying here! You're lying, even though you're blushing! What love, what passion, if you yawn on stage and in the audience. And not furtively! But as possible. What do I understand about this? Moreover, inveterate connoisseurs of muses find this pretense extremely fascinating! Perhaps I reason this way because of my simple upbringing? In general, I was ashamed to admit even to myself that I didn’t really like everything that was happening. It’s much more comfortable in a museum or on a walk in the park! The trouble is that it’s difficult there after 19-00. I endured and did not refuse the next offers. Evening “at home” is even worse. Zhanna and I have been to the Mariinsky Theater seven times alone, not to mention all the other entertainment and soul-stirring establishments in St. Petersburg! This was a good school. Not only art history. If you want to learn as much as possible about lies and falsehood in human relationships, go to the show! Maybe this is the true essence of theater? Then what are the theatergoers, these brilliant snobs and know-it-alls behind the scenes? And what are they really doing in the halls of Thalia and Melpomene? A question of questions. Actually, I’m not talking about them now. I'm talking about another unreality. Today's post is about theatrical dreams. About visiting plays, musicals, concerts and other kinds of shows directly in a dream.Yes! Circus and stadiums also count. The main thing is to have the feeling of being at some spectacular event. As an actor, spectator or director. The cinema will do too! This doesn't happen very often. Much more often than I would like. For example, at one time I dreamed of myself in a certain auditorium. Half empty or filled to capacity. People whisper to each other as they wait for the show to begin. But the light still doesn’t go out, and the action still doesn’t start. Visitors are beginning to become more and more indignant. They clap, stomp, whistle. But the actors never show up. Or they appear, but play something completely different. They sing and dance, although it was announced to be a drama. And I have one thought in my head. False. There is nothing but pretense all around. I really don’t like it, but it’s also somehow inconvenient to leave. In case I disturb the neighbors. And what will those around me say if I run away without getting what I came for? It's kind of stupid. And at the same time unbearable. What am I even doing here? When I decide to get up, it turns out that the light is off and I can’t find a way out. One of my clients had another recurring dream. She is an actress and plays the title role during the play. Something from the comedies of Shakespeare or Lope da Vega. This is difficult for her. She doesn’t remember the text, gets worried, interrupts her partners, gets embarrassed, blushes. In one scene, the client even trips over the hem of her uncomfortable dress and falls to the floor. Complete failure. The public is extremely outraged. Whistling, swearing, cursing. Suddenly, someone from the audience bursts onto the stage and begins throwing rotten tomatoes at her. The gorgeous silk skirt was ruined, the makeup was running, the wig was missing. She stands alone on a huge stage, and around her there are a lot of evil, laughing faces. She always woke up in tears and then could not fall asleep. I felt extremely insulted and unhappy. Although her usual activities were not related to show business. Quite the contrary. She worked as an accountant and more often dealt with numbers than with people. There are many variations of theatrical dreams, and it is important to pay attention to who you are acting as. Actor, spectator or director. The dream is about the theater, which means the roles are important. In general, the appearance of such dreams speaks of the impossibility of living one’s own life and the desire to live someone else’s. If you see yourself as an actor, a participant in a show or performance, then this may reflect your unconscious desire to change your own personality. Become different, taking a completely different place in this world. Just like actors play new characters and roles every evening. Acting in a sleepy performance symbolizes your desire to appear before others in a more favorable light. Amaze everyone with your beauty and talents. And also to express during the mystery those feelings and emotions that were previously suppressed in oneself. Being an actor in a dream is an unconscious desire to live a more brilliant, brighter and richer life than the one you live in reality. If an actor is seen differently person, then all of the above applies to him. There is one “but” though. In your dreams everything is yours. Even if you dream of different, completely unfamiliar people. Perhaps this is personification. Dreams transform your individual qualities and problems into independent human personalities. It turns out that some part of you strives for new sensations, while the other looks at it critically. Thus, the behavior of the spectators in a dream is the voice of your superego. The response of conscience to the need to change. If the public is benevolent or simply patient, then you yourself do not blame yourself for your expressed thirst for something new. If she whistles, insults and even throws rotten vegetables, you experience a huge feeling of shame and unbearable guilt at the mere thought of becoming a performer and showing your essence to the fullest. It is impossible for you to be different, perhaps less successful, but much happier, for reasons of the most severe self-criticism and self-censorship. The problem with all hypersocial natures. Being a director in a dream reflects your desire to become stronger and more influential. It's not easy to learn how to manage an entire team?