In the Eye of the Beholder, or Dom Radio — Irrational and Grand

There was a time when Yuri Butusov's work at the Lensoviet Theatre was the centre of gravity; now, with Currentzis in the city, that place has gone to Dom Radio.

Whatever I'm there for, I come out full. Or rather: I go in order to fall into another world and come out changed. They say theatre starts at the coat check — here it starts at the front door.

You have to think hard about whether to go in at all. You could just as easily fall down a rabbit hole, or simply lose your way.

You have to switch off whatever's worrying you and leave every means of contact with this world downstairs — one stray noise can take the whole trip apart.

After that you're on your own: whether you find the route, whether there is one, or whether you can let go and fly.

From outside it looks faintly like a cult; all it's missing is the incense and the cursing. It doesn't need those either — my sacrament runs at a different level, out of reach, and not everyone will find it.

Once you've found something you didn't know was there, you tend not to want to go back. It's strange to leave somewhere that felt close and yours, and step out into what's already the wake for a funfair that's just shut down. Not many of its attractions stand up against the close, half-lit air of Dom Radio.