Aleksey Strelnikov was a person, a theater critic, who had the right and in fact was responsible for the entire theatrical Belarus. His area of responsibility was not individual directors, actors, playwrights, but his entire theatrical homeland. All Belarus was in his heart. And it hurt all the time. He led the life of a man whose health is reflected in the health of the theatrical republic. And lately, Alexei did not look young or healthy. He stooped, turned gray, haggard. He wanted to help his native theater all the time, to fight for it, to tear the veins. Although he did not look like a knight, like a berserker and an aggressor. His arrows were not poisonous. On the contrary, gentleness and love, humility and mournful reflection - he looked beaten, like an intellectual who always had a cold, continuing to utter words of love with a mouth full of his own blood. He lost his job. He, a connoisseur and passionate admirer of the Belarusian self (as he talked about old plays!), Was fired from almost everywhere. I asked him how he lives: he says we have solidarity in Belarus, and if it’s bad for someone to live in the entrance, the entrance collects money. The last time we saw each other was at some festival a couple of years ago, I can't remember. He was so happy for Russia, its theatrical successes. Aleksey showed how it is possible to drown for the national and be far from nationalism at the same time. In the heyday of some Belarusian theatrical names, in the triumph of Belarusian drama, there is a personal contribution of Alexei Strelnikov. I hope this will never be forgotten in the republic. Yes, he worked. And I was very worried that nothing happened again. Culture never succeeds. He tugged and twitched, but was still obsessed, but shabby and battered by Sisyphus on his lonely mission. Theatrical Belarus was torn and rushed to zero, to the tenth. And rolled back again. All this was a personal torment for Alexei. He didn't deserve to die. But now he has been given peace by damned fate. Peace to his tormented by adversity, endless fiasco heart. I have known Alexey for a very long time. They were friends, endlessly confessed their mutual professional trust. I read correspondence. How many projects have been done, how many cross advice, how many words about our common idol Brecht. You ask him about something Belarusian, and he knows everything and immediately betrays. His line, written a couple of years ago, cut in: “What is happening with the theater in Belarus is a real nightmare, this is a real loss of work for me. But here I personally can’t do anything (”. How unbearable it is: to know how "I can't help you. People like Aleksei Strelnikov can't help but be in business, they're not in demand. It's a shame. This time will kill anyone."
Sorry, Alex, and goodbye. May the best heavenly performances be shown to you every day. And don't drop your pen.
