“…seven days with an Idiot…”

or non-existing chapters of Fedor Dostoevskiy’s novel

after KLIM’s play


Eighth Day



Directed by Vladislav Troickyi


The language of the performance is Russian



Characters and performers

Prince Myshkin   Dmytro Iaroshenko

 “… our individuality is a set of

seriated mistakes

our personality is a courage

to not repeat them…”


Christmas. Scantily lit room, candle in the window and him, whose true name is an Idiot. He is waiting. He knows she won’t come but he is waiting. And we are waiting together with him. After all, there is no difference between dreams and real occurrences as there is no time in that labyrinth where our souls wander in search of “highest synthesis of life” getting to some places and rooms where the same things happen all the time. This difference between visible and outward and invisible and inner and this inconsistency between his vision and what the those around him have been always seeing he is trying to explain to us, explaining it, thus, to himself. There is neither fear of the death nor regret left in him – only the compassion for others and for himself.


“…only one thing is convincing for me

this is the only way to be

a bird

life on a verge

at the breaking point of

strength and resources when death

follows hard on your heels

you got born you had learned to fly

so fly…”



One act. 1 hour

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