So what, you may ask yourself, have I been doing these past weeks in ye olde Rus? I realized that my blogovich is often about life, America, Russia, crazy old women, lalala. Which is all fine and dandy. However, I'd like to take a small segment and go a little teensy weensy more serious and explain one of my most recent work projects, which has been a wonderful learning experience for ye young Jenny Durina.
Let me set the stage:
Attractive men. Very attractive male dancers. Very attractive.
Here are three of the attractive men
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What was I saying?
Ah yes, work-stuff. So lemme break it down for you from the beginning. Don't worry, I'll return to the attractive manly men.
MONDAY: U.S. Embassy Moscow just launched a new cultural program called "American Seasons in Russia". The name is a nod to Sergei Diaghilev's "Russian Seasons" which more or less migrated Russian culture to Paris for a bit in the early 20th century. He also founded the Ballets Russes. Basically he was an old artsy-fartsy patron of all that is artsy and all that is fartsy and he was Russian. Here is his face. It is a mighty face.
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I hope to someday date someone in a similar outfit (I'M TALKING TO YOU, YOUNG JACOB). Sans 'stache of course. Anyhoo, the point of American Seasons is to bring American art and performers to Russia to exhibit our less global culture. We are more than just Hollywood and Katy Perry, surprisingly. We're sponsoring the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, MOMIX, Ozomatli, an Annie Leibovitz photography exhibit, and will end with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. That one is particularly cutesy and fuzzy with warm diplomatic feelings because Chicago is Moscow's sister city. In order to introduce American Seasons to the general public, we held a press conference at ITAR-TASS, a news agency. I wrote a lovely little press release, to which Judith McHale, Under Secretary of Public Diplomacy and Public Affairs (aka the HEAD-HONCHO of PA at State in Washington) replied with a lovely email about American Seasons and forwarded the press release to THE HEAD HONCHESS herself, Mrs. Hilldawg. Wonderful!
THE PRESS CONFERENCE:
To launch American Seasons in Russia, we brought in participants from the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, whose performances would inaugurate ASiR. Other participants: Ambassador John Beyrle (woot woot); Gusman, Deputy Director of ITAR-TASS and meeter-und-greeter of practically everyone ever; Mikhail Shvydkoy, Special Envoy for International Cultural Cooperation to President Dmitry Medvedev; and Vladimir Urin, Director of the Stanislavsky Theater where Alvin Ailey Dance Theater would be performing.
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My task for the conference was to pick up the Alvin Ailey people at their hotel, brief them on American Seasons and the BPC (Bilateral Presidential Commission, which I don't want to get into right now), and take them to the conference. Quite fun, and they were all wonderful people. Very friendly. Also I had fun chatting up our Russian driver and showing off my poor language skills. After the conference, which was mildly eventless except for a wonderful linguistic attempt to translate "knock your socks off" in Russian and this FABULOUS video about American Seasons (plug!).
Gusman invited the dancers and embassy workers (there were about 6 of us) to his special HOMNOM room where we were treated to delicious food and drink. Along the walls were pictures of important people giving toasts in that same room. I said howdy to Nixon, Putin, Medvedev, Castro, and previous ambassadors while snacking on caviar and wine. At one point, Ambassador Beyrle made a lovely toast and then scooted out on some busybusybusiness. I sat next to one of the dancers and we talked Russia, diplomacy, and general life. I then challenged him to a dance-off right there, on the spot, and he accepted it in order to save face. He accepted his defeat gracefully after I perfectly executed my special "cabbage patch" move. Everyone watched in awe. Some of that is not true. None of that is true. After stuffing ourselves, I took the dancers back to the hotel and danced a little jig of success that no one was injured or lost on my watch!
TUESDAY: Press conference numero dos, commence! This conferencio was solely for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, hereby referred to as AAADT, at the Stanislavsky Theater. After nearly napping through the conference (because I get very tired in life), I went to watch the press performance and it was AMAZING. I started getting flashes of stardom ideas and becoming a dancer. Then I remembered my height and laziness; the dream was crushed. My boss and a Russian from our office were unfortunately running around backstage doing damage control because this very nosy camera crew from the "Culture" channel was roaming around getting in the way of dancers. I had comp tickets for Wednesday and I could not be more excited! So many attractive dancers.
WEDNESDAY: Or as I like to call it "Day of Fear, Day of Darkness, Day of Russian". So Kultura (the culture channel) was doing a special on AAADT and were trying to get interviews throughout the day. We served as intermediaries and often as translators. During rehearsals we pulled dancers out and threw them to the lions of Russian TV. The dancers were fantastic speakers and even took questions like "so are you married? Do you want kids?" with eloquence and grace. When we weren't pestering dancers, we were backstage hobnobbing with some of the admin people, and made some great friends. My boss, former dancer and HUGE fangirl of AAADT, was absolutely thrilled and went out with them a few times. I was just happy to be out of the office! We had arrived at the theater around 2ish and ended at 5. I had tickets for the night's performance at 7, so just stuck around and memorized various herbs in Russian. There was an interview from the same Kultura channel, but a different news program, slated at 7:30ish during the first intermission, and because neither Zsofia nor Lena, our illustrious Russian, would be there, I would play control officer. I'd make sure everything ran smoothly; it was time to jump out of the nest! Oi. I was fairly self-assured, stupidly, and excited to be able to handle the press alone.
INTERMISSION: The dance performance was (insert superlative here) and perhaps a perfect introduction to ASiR, which promotes understanding through modes other than language. However my mind was of course wandering through the first third (there were two intermissions), due to anxiety and excitement. I ran into the lobby as soon as the curtain closed to find the camera crew. Luckily they were easy to spot, and Dacquiri, the company manager and organizational-extraordinaire had a dancer ready for them. I introduced myself to the interviewer, who asked if I spoke French. Taken aback, I denied any knowledge of French, though she continued to speak to me in broken French-English-Russian. My Russian accent (thank you thank you thank you phonetics classes!) finally convinced her to switch solely to Russian, and I served as broken translator to the dancer, Antonio. Kultura had brought no translator, and because it was such a tight time-crunch, she grabbed me to act as on-camera (directly under-camera, actually) translator. She told me they would take the interview to a studio and dub over his answers in Russian, so my role would only be from Russian to English, a role with which I'm fairly comfortable.
Interviewer-Me: "Tell us a little about the story that was portrayed in the first ballet. What was it about?"
Antonio The Dancer: "It's about lalalalalalalala" I wait and prepare for what question comes next, giddy and excited that I'm doing translation, and ergo not quite paying attention to what he's saying.
Interviewer: "So what did he just say? Give me a few sentences so I know what he said" MICROPHONE SWINGS INTO MY FACE.
Me (in Russian): "He. ugh. hmmm. say. it about history of company. Person try get in. Did not. She yell and asked again and he said yes. She was his (looking for a way to walk around the word "inspiration")...she...his....she was his influence of art."
I was caught off guard, but blindly scrambled through the Russian and panic. It was not pretty, but it got the job done. To further my panic and anxiety, a few of my coworkers had tickets for that night and were looking on from afar. Seasoned Foreign Service Officers were watching, probably thinking "what the heck is little intern doing under that camera with such a look of terror on her face? Hmmm I guess I'll just stare politely." The worst was probably when she asked "So are there any white people in the company, or they all black?" I chuckled uncomfortably as I thought "Oh GOD I have to say that in English!?" Luckily he took the question very well, except for when he used the phrase "rainbow of ethnicities" and the word for "rainbow" flew out of my mind. "There are many colors of people in the company." In the end though, I survived. Granted my adrenaline rush didn't subside until about 10pm after the performance ended, but at least I survived. I'd finally cut my public diplomacy teeth, and lived to tell the tale. I was, and still am, proud, terrified, and relieved.
FRIDAY: Friday was the day that the new art director, Robert Battle, for AAADC took up the mantel, and it just happened to be here in ye olde Moscow. Instead of a press release he hosted a "coffee and conversation" session with reporters in the basement of a chic little cafe across the street from the theater. The turn-out was wonderful, and this venue served as the most intimate and interesting of the multitude of press conferences and discussions that the dance company gave. Robert was funny, charming, passionate, and intelligent. He fielded the same "when were white people allowed in the dance company" (face palm) with elegance and no sign of awkwardness. A Russian dance critic rapid-fired him with questions, but Mr. Battle fielded them all. If anyone is interested, there was a lovely piece by the Washington Post about the discussion: http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/ailey-dancers-bring-their-gospel-to-moscow/2011/07/03/AGBm9wwH_story.html
And that, folks, was a week in the life of Jenny Durina.
Let me set the stage:
Attractive men. Very attractive male dancers. Very attractive.
Here are three of the attractive men
Ah yes, work-stuff. So lemme break it down for you from the beginning. Don't worry, I'll return to the attractive manly men.
MONDAY: U.S. Embassy Moscow just launched a new cultural program called "American Seasons in Russia". The name is a nod to Sergei Diaghilev's "Russian Seasons" which more or less migrated Russian culture to Paris for a bit in the early 20th century. He also founded the Ballets Russes. Basically he was an old artsy-fartsy patron of all that is artsy and all that is fartsy and he was Russian. Here is his face. It is a mighty face.
THE PRESS CONFERENCE:
To launch American Seasons in Russia, we brought in participants from the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, whose performances would inaugurate ASiR. Other participants: Ambassador John Beyrle (woot woot); Gusman, Deputy Director of ITAR-TASS and meeter-und-greeter of practically everyone ever; Mikhail Shvydkoy, Special Envoy for International Cultural Cooperation to President Dmitry Medvedev; and Vladimir Urin, Director of the Stanislavsky Theater where Alvin Ailey Dance Theater would be performing.
Gusman invited the dancers and embassy workers (there were about 6 of us) to his special HOMNOM room where we were treated to delicious food and drink. Along the walls were pictures of important people giving toasts in that same room. I said howdy to Nixon, Putin, Medvedev, Castro, and previous ambassadors while snacking on caviar and wine. At one point, Ambassador Beyrle made a lovely toast and then scooted out on some busybusybusiness. I sat next to one of the dancers and we talked Russia, diplomacy, and general life. I then challenged him to a dance-off right there, on the spot, and he accepted it in order to save face. He accepted his defeat gracefully after I perfectly executed my special "cabbage patch" move. Everyone watched in awe. Some of that is not true. None of that is true. After stuffing ourselves, I took the dancers back to the hotel and danced a little jig of success that no one was injured or lost on my watch!
TUESDAY: Press conference numero dos, commence! This conferencio was solely for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, hereby referred to as AAADT, at the Stanislavsky Theater. After nearly napping through the conference (because I get very tired in life), I went to watch the press performance and it was AMAZING. I started getting flashes of stardom ideas and becoming a dancer. Then I remembered my height and laziness; the dream was crushed. My boss and a Russian from our office were unfortunately running around backstage doing damage control because this very nosy camera crew from the "Culture" channel was roaming around getting in the way of dancers. I had comp tickets for Wednesday and I could not be more excited! So many attractive dancers.
WEDNESDAY: Or as I like to call it "Day of Fear, Day of Darkness, Day of Russian". So Kultura (the culture channel) was doing a special on AAADT and were trying to get interviews throughout the day. We served as intermediaries and often as translators. During rehearsals we pulled dancers out and threw them to the lions of Russian TV. The dancers were fantastic speakers and even took questions like "so are you married? Do you want kids?" with eloquence and grace. When we weren't pestering dancers, we were backstage hobnobbing with some of the admin people, and made some great friends. My boss, former dancer and HUGE fangirl of AAADT, was absolutely thrilled and went out with them a few times. I was just happy to be out of the office! We had arrived at the theater around 2ish and ended at 5. I had tickets for the night's performance at 7, so just stuck around and memorized various herbs in Russian. There was an interview from the same Kultura channel, but a different news program, slated at 7:30ish during the first intermission, and because neither Zsofia nor Lena, our illustrious Russian, would be there, I would play control officer. I'd make sure everything ran smoothly; it was time to jump out of the nest! Oi. I was fairly self-assured, stupidly, and excited to be able to handle the press alone.
INTERMISSION: The dance performance was (insert superlative here) and perhaps a perfect introduction to ASiR, which promotes understanding through modes other than language. However my mind was of course wandering through the first third (there were two intermissions), due to anxiety and excitement. I ran into the lobby as soon as the curtain closed to find the camera crew. Luckily they were easy to spot, and Dacquiri, the company manager and organizational-extraordinaire had a dancer ready for them. I introduced myself to the interviewer, who asked if I spoke French. Taken aback, I denied any knowledge of French, though she continued to speak to me in broken French-English-Russian. My Russian accent (thank you thank you thank you phonetics classes!) finally convinced her to switch solely to Russian, and I served as broken translator to the dancer, Antonio. Kultura had brought no translator, and because it was such a tight time-crunch, she grabbed me to act as on-camera (directly under-camera, actually) translator. She told me they would take the interview to a studio and dub over his answers in Russian, so my role would only be from Russian to English, a role with which I'm fairly comfortable.
Interviewer-Me: "Tell us a little about the story that was portrayed in the first ballet. What was it about?"
Antonio The Dancer: "It's about lalalalalalalala" I wait and prepare for what question comes next, giddy and excited that I'm doing translation, and ergo not quite paying attention to what he's saying.
Interviewer: "So what did he just say? Give me a few sentences so I know what he said" MICROPHONE SWINGS INTO MY FACE.
Me (in Russian): "He. ugh. hmmm. say. it about history of company. Person try get in. Did not. She yell and asked again and he said yes. She was his (looking for a way to walk around the word "inspiration")...she...his....she was his influence of art."
I was caught off guard, but blindly scrambled through the Russian and panic. It was not pretty, but it got the job done. To further my panic and anxiety, a few of my coworkers had tickets for that night and were looking on from afar. Seasoned Foreign Service Officers were watching, probably thinking "what the heck is little intern doing under that camera with such a look of terror on her face? Hmmm I guess I'll just stare politely." The worst was probably when she asked "So are there any white people in the company, or they all black?" I chuckled uncomfortably as I thought "Oh GOD I have to say that in English!?" Luckily he took the question very well, except for when he used the phrase "rainbow of ethnicities" and the word for "rainbow" flew out of my mind. "There are many colors of people in the company." In the end though, I survived. Granted my adrenaline rush didn't subside until about 10pm after the performance ended, but at least I survived. I'd finally cut my public diplomacy teeth, and lived to tell the tale. I was, and still am, proud, terrified, and relieved.
FRIDAY: Friday was the day that the new art director, Robert Battle, for AAADC took up the mantel, and it just happened to be here in ye olde Moscow. Instead of a press release he hosted a "coffee and conversation" session with reporters in the basement of a chic little cafe across the street from the theater. The turn-out was wonderful, and this venue served as the most intimate and interesting of the multitude of press conferences and discussions that the dance company gave. Robert was funny, charming, passionate, and intelligent. He fielded the same "when were white people allowed in the dance company" (face palm) with elegance and no sign of awkwardness. A Russian dance critic rapid-fired him with questions, but Mr. Battle fielded them all. If anyone is interested, there was a lovely piece by the Washington Post about the discussion: http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/ailey-dancers-bring-their-gospel-to-moscow/2011/07/03/AGBm9wwH_story.html
And that, folks, was a week in the life of Jenny Durina.
