成人快手

Tatiana Frolova wasn鈥檛 born to be a theatre director. She grew up in the 1960s and 鈥�70s in a cut-off part of a closed country, the Soviet Far East. She was a shy, nervous girl brought up by a silent mother in Komsomolsk-on-Amur, the bleak 鈥淐ity of the Dawn鈥� built on Stalin鈥檚 orders in the early 1930s and celebrated officially as a Communist 鈥渉ero-project.鈥�
But in 1985, aged 24, as the first glimmerings of glasnost appeared, Tatyana founded the Soviet Union鈥檚 first independent theatre since 1927 鈥� known as KnAM - in Komsomolsk. It was tiny 鈥� with only 26 seats. But it tried to push back the boundaries of what could be discussed, building new plays around the memories and experiences of local people. They dealt with fear and violence transmitted from generation to generation.
The theatre survived for 37 years despite the narrowing of possibilities for free speech under Vladimir Putin. But when the full-scale invasion of Ukraine began last year, Tatiana realised she and her actors had to leave. Now, they鈥檙e touring Europe with a new play, "We are no longer.." It鈥檚 about who they were, and what they鈥檝e lost. But what鈥檚 the future for Tatiana and her troupe - just a handful of the hundreds of thousands of Russians now in exile? And what image of Russia are they presenting to Western audiences? For Assignment, Tim Whewell goes to meet them.

Image: A scene from 鈥淲e Are No Longer鈥� by KnAM Theatre (Picture copyright Julie Cherki)