minutes, Kolia battled valiantly against an unrelenting wind. The jury thanked him impassively, but that didnât mean anything â everyone was treated to the same chilly response. He was permitted only a one-minute rest between the two sections of the audition. He searched Pavelâs face for the slightest reaction. It was the pen that Pavel started twirling in his fingers that gave him the sign he was looking for. He launched into the second part of the audition with a renewed sense of purpose.
For his monologue, he had decided to leave one strap of his overalls unfastened and hanging loose over his shoulder. By grabbing hold of it, he could prevent at least one hand from darting into a pocket. With one shoulder up in the air and the other restrained by his cocked arm, he looked like an improvised coat hanger. But his odd posture lent his character a nonchalance that was curiously appealing. Koliaâs theatrical roles as both Fagin, the master swindler, and Oliver Twist, the innocent intern who unwittingly acquires a perfect criminal education, had also allowed him to hone his pickpocketing skills. As the jury looked on, he deftly demonstrated how he could steal his own handkerchief, and, as a finale, how he could faint and collapse in front of an imaginary heartless judge without injuring himself.
He was accepted. His single-minded determination had gained him admission to the circus school. And, because a promise is a promise, it had also won him the right to a meeting with someone with access to information. âIâm not sure when,â Pavel told him. âBut it will be soon. Be patient.â
THE MAN IN WHITEFACE
âA MIMEOGRAPH OF MACBETH . . . the complete text.â
The school hadnât acquired the new machine yet, and Bounine knew it. But he was eager to try out all sorts of teaching techniques on Kolia, and, a little sadistically, to have some fun doing it.
âIn English, itâs got to be in English!â
Bounine attempted to defend his rather mean-spirited strategy to a perplexed-looking Pavel. He wanted to see how resourceful the little guy was.
It was Mityaâs clandestine importâexport business that helped Kolia fill Bounineâs order. âI asked for a mimeographed copy, not the book.â
Bounine scowled when Kolia presented it to him. But he was impressed. Evidently, the kid was not stupid.
When Kolia handed him a mimeographed copy the following day, Bounine looked at him with a newfound respect. He had taken less than two days to complete an impossible task â not only was paper a luxury, but possession of printing equipment by private citizens was illegal.
Between 1961 and 1964, Kolia spent his days and nights mastering the art of the clown. He gradually pieced together a costume that was suitably modest and unassuming. It had to be clear that Pavel and Bounine were the stars of the show. âYouâre being trained to be at our beck and call. Youâre a lackey, nothing more,â Bounine was fond of saying, even though he had come to admire this young man who learned quickly by imitating everything he saw. Kolia now lived in the kommunalka with them, and they ate all their meals together.
For the ring, Kolia created the persona of a mute thief â a character he had naturally absorbed under Faginâs spiritual tutelage. He decided to perform in whiteface, just like Pavel, even though the traditional white-chalk makeup was rarely seen anymore. Instead of wearing a wig, he opted to shave his head like a zek, and accentuate his eyebrows. The tarot card reader had created an exact replica of the peacoat he had worn in the camp, and inside a false pocket Eva had placed the card representing the Magician. Pavelâs daughter, who had now reached the age of seven, demanded that he wear red shoes. Kolia thought it would be funny, and he agreed. Huge red shoes that made a lot of noise. And, with a nod to the traditions of the camps,
For his monologue, he had decided to leave one strap of his overalls unfastened and hanging loose over his shoulder. By grabbing hold of it, he could prevent at least one hand from darting into a pocket. With one shoulder up in the air and the other restrained by his cocked arm, he looked like an improvised coat hanger. But his odd posture lent his character a nonchalance that was curiously appealing. Koliaâs theatrical roles as both Fagin, the master swindler, and Oliver Twist, the innocent intern who unwittingly acquires a perfect criminal education, had also allowed him to hone his pickpocketing skills. As the jury looked on, he deftly demonstrated how he could steal his own handkerchief, and, as a finale, how he could faint and collapse in front of an imaginary heartless judge without injuring himself.
He was accepted. His single-minded determination had gained him admission to the circus school. And, because a promise is a promise, it had also won him the right to a meeting with someone with access to information. âIâm not sure when,â Pavel told him. âBut it will be soon. Be patient.â
THE MAN IN WHITEFACE
âA MIMEOGRAPH OF MACBETH . . . the complete text.â
The school hadnât acquired the new machine yet, and Bounine knew it. But he was eager to try out all sorts of teaching techniques on Kolia, and, a little sadistically, to have some fun doing it.
âIn English, itâs got to be in English!â
Bounine attempted to defend his rather mean-spirited strategy to a perplexed-looking Pavel. He wanted to see how resourceful the little guy was.
It was Mityaâs clandestine importâexport business that helped Kolia fill Bounineâs order. âI asked for a mimeographed copy, not the book.â
Bounine scowled when Kolia presented it to him. But he was impressed. Evidently, the kid was not stupid.
When Kolia handed him a mimeographed copy the following day, Bounine looked at him with a newfound respect. He had taken less than two days to complete an impossible task â not only was paper a luxury, but possession of printing equipment by private citizens was illegal.
Between 1961 and 1964, Kolia spent his days and nights mastering the art of the clown. He gradually pieced together a costume that was suitably modest and unassuming. It had to be clear that Pavel and Bounine were the stars of the show. âYouâre being trained to be at our beck and call. Youâre a lackey, nothing more,â Bounine was fond of saying, even though he had come to admire this young man who learned quickly by imitating everything he saw. Kolia now lived in the kommunalka with them, and they ate all their meals together.
For the ring, Kolia created the persona of a mute thief â a character he had naturally absorbed under Faginâs spiritual tutelage. He decided to perform in whiteface, just like Pavel, even though the traditional white-chalk makeup was rarely seen anymore. Instead of wearing a wig, he opted to shave his head like a zek, and accentuate his eyebrows. The tarot card reader had created an exact replica of the peacoat he had worn in the camp, and inside a false pocket Eva had placed the card representing the Magician. Pavelâs daughter, who had now reached the age of seven, demanded that he wear red shoes. Kolia thought it would be funny, and he agreed. Huge red shoes that made a lot of noise. And, with a nod to the traditions of the camps,
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