Настасся Пакратава і Ірына Лаппо на фестывалі "Прадмова". Скрын відэа
During a discussion titled “Strike Out Or Keep: Belarusian Theatre Searching For Its Place,” theatre scholars Iryna Lappo, author of the book “Kupałowcy. Teatr narodowy na wygnaniu” (“The Kupala Theatre Company: A National Theatre in Exile”), and Nastassia Pankratava, author of the collection of her writings “(Не)выкраслены: Беларускі тэатр 2015–2025. Выбраныя старонкі” (“(Not) Crossed Out: Belarusian Theatre, 2015–2025. Selected Pages”), discussed how Belarusian theatre has changed over the past decade and what it is like today.
The theatre scholars said that Belarusian theatre in exile has become a fully established phenomenon and has found its audience, although it faces certain limitations, as it sometimes has to adapt to the tastes of its host country. They also discussed how, because of the Belarusian state’s policies, Belarusian theatre does not participate in European theatre programmes for refugees, which are available to Ukrainian and Syrian theatre groups. At the same time, it cooperates productively with Ukrainian theatre, including through joint festivals. This opens up new opportunities for development. They also considered the language used to describe theatre since 2015, the starting point for the texts collected in Nastassia Pankratava’s book.
But the most interesting part came during the question-and-answer session.
The speakers were asked how theatre in exile should be criticised. Theatre is somewhat like sport: without regular rehearsals, performers lose their form. In exile, theatre companies have no permanent venue, while actors often work unrelated jobs, sometimes involving physical labour.
“Doesn’t it seem to you that theatre in exile often relies on nostalgia? And how should mission-driven theatre be criticised in terms of acting and directing? Where are the boundaries?” asked Krystsina Drobysh, a former actress at the Kupala Theatre.
Iryna Lappo replied that a theatre scholar can write an analytical piece that does not necessarily involve criticism, allowing an assessment of a production to emerge through its analysis.
Nastassia Pankratava pointed out that independent media publish almost no reviews of theatre productions; they have all turned into reports. This raises a serious question: “How do you criticise people when you know they work as cleaners or taxi drivers, and that they only get together to rehearse a production ten days before the premiere? And now one of the major challenges for theatre critics is having to face an actor who feels offended.” However, theatre companies are now springing up across Lithuania, where Pankratava lives. Perhaps the time has come to return to full-fledged criticism when a group calls itself a theatre and has an established repertoire.
In the absence of Belarusian theatre criticism, the quality of productions in exile can be assessed in another way: by whether they attract reviews from local theatre critics. This is particularly evident in Lithuania. When a production remains within its own exile bubble and is amateur in quality, it receives no coverage from the local press. But when a production is sincere and professional, foreign critics take notice. Importantly, this does not mean that it loses its Belarusian identity.
One of the questions concerned Russification in Belarus: how irreversible it is and where it may lead.
Nastassia Pankratava recalled the history of the Kupala Theatre, which at one point welcomed many actors who had studied in Russia. The question was whether they wanted to immerse themselves in Belarusian culture. Some of them learned the Belarusian language to a high standard and “truly gave their hearts to our country and became Belarusians.” The question now is who is coming to Belarus.
Pankratava also described another danger. Two years ago, the Variety Theatre staged a production titled “Moment of Truth.” At the time, it was described as a play about the war and counterintelligence officers. But in 2026, the synopsis has changed. Potential audiences are now told that the production is about a wonderful hero — an SMERSH officer. For Belarusians, however, such a figure has always been a negative character; a positive portrayal of an SMERSH officer is a Russian perspective.
“And if our books stop being published, it will not be long before people start feeling that this is the main perspective for Belarusians,” Pankratava said. “What should we do about it? Observe, document and remind people of the history of how things actually happened.”
“And create an alternative history — an exile history. Future generations will sort it out,” Iryna Lappo concluded.