The venerable Moscow Art Theatre (MKhAT) recently bid a poignant farewell to one of its most cherished and enduring figures, Nina Gulyaeva. At the remarkable age of 94, Gulyaeva’s passing marks the end of an era, a life almost entirely dedicated to the stage of the very theatre that became her second home. Her story is not merely one of longevity, but of an unwavering passion that defined a career spanning nearly seven decades, intertwined with love, family, and an undeniable flair for the dramatic.
A Life Dedicated to the Footlights
The farewell ceremony, held not on the grand stage but in the intimate foyer of MKhAT, offered a quiet reflection on a career that was anything but subdued. Perhaps it was a nod to her more recent years away from active performance, or perhaps a symbolic gesture – her life, after all, was inextricably woven into the fabric of this institution, which she adored and that, in turn, adored her. From her youth, Gulyaeva was a force of nature: small, agile, and with a voice that truly resonated. In her younger days, she possessed the spirited charm of a “scrawny teenager,” a quality that lent itself perfectly to “travesti” roles – cross-gender parts often played by women to portray boys or young men. And what roles they were!
The Boy Who Opened Doors
While still a third-year student at the MKhAT School-Studio, Gulyaeva landed a pivotal role: the young boy Seryozha in “Anna Karenina.” Standing in his crib, reaching out to his `sinful` mother, played by the legendary Alla Tarasova, and repeatedly uttering, “Mama, Mama…” This innocent, childlike portrayal not only captivated audiences but also served as her golden ticket into the MKhAT troupe. It was a lucky break, indeed, but one earned by undeniable talent.
Her versatility was soon undeniable. She enchanted as the fantastical Suok in “The Three Fat Men,” a circus dancer masquerading as the heir Tutti`s doll. Her performance was so uncannily doll-like, with such precise plastic movements, that audiences were convinced they were watching an expensive automaton. What they didn`t know was a charming backstage secret: every creak, click, and mechanical whir that accompanied her dance was meticulously provided by her husband, the esteemed People`s Artist of the USSR, Vyacheslav Nevinnoy. A true partnership, on and off the stage.
From “Travesti” to Grande Dame
Another career-defining moment came with her portrayal of Shurka in the legendary production of “Yegor Bulychov and Others.” This role cemented her reputation as a master of her craft, leading to her being awarded the title of People`s Artist of Russia at the relatively young age of 38. With this recognition, her repertoire expanded to include a gallery of young and mature women: Valeria in “Duck Hunt,” Zoya Samokhina in “Steelworkers,” Darina in “Tartuffe,” and Polina Andreevna in “The Seagull.”
She was a joy to work with for celebrated directors and actors like Livanov, Efremov, and Efros. Yet, even in the gravest of roles – the suffering woman, the unrequited lover, and later, the aunts and grandmothers – a spark of that initial boyish exuberance, that irrepressible verve, would occasionally, almost mischievously, break through. She was a chameleon, capable of being both “travesti” and not, always authentically herself on the MKhAT stage, where she not only built her career but also found personal happiness with her actor-husband Vyacheslav Nevinnoy and their son, also named Slava, who followed in their theatrical footsteps. One memorable occasion saw the entire Nevinnoy family share the stage with another MKhAT theatrical dynasty, the Yurkys, in “The Blessed Island” – a true fireworks display of talent.
The Unyielding Spirit of a Theatre Child
In her later years, active roles became scarce. Yet, Nina Gulyaeva never lost hope, nor her fighting spirit. She dreamed of a benefit performance, refusing to become despondent. Opportunities under Tabakov and Zhenovach might not have materialized as promised, but she bore no grudges. Instead, she graced the stage in “White Nights,” in a performance that was, in its essence, a benefit of pure artistry.
A helping hand came from Yevgeny Mironov, who invited her to play Nanny Marina in his Theatre of Nations` production of Chekhov`s “Uncle Vanya,” directed by Stefan Braunschweig. Poignantly, this role – which she had first performed under Efremov at MKhAT in her younger years – became the final chapter in Nina Ivanovna`s illustrious stage biography.
Her granddaughter, Ivetta Nevinnaya, shared a testament to her grandmother`s unyielding spirit: “Even when Grandma could no longer leave the house, she continued to rehearse. Alone, she would repeat her lines, convinced she would perform again. Grandma never gave up. Even after three operations. We visited her after she`d just come out of intensive care, unable to speak, but she wrote on a piece of paper: `Home immediately!` She was a fighter until the very end.”
The solemn ceremony saw many luminaries of Russian theatre gather to pay their respects, including Stanislav Lyubshin, the Kindinov couple, Avangard Leontyev (who led the proceedings), Marina Brusnikina, the Artistic Director Konstantin Khabensky, Alexey Agapov, Alla Sigalova, Artyom Bystrov, and Aram Arashunyan.
Small, almost childlike in repose, she lay surrounded by wreaths and flowers. A child of the theatre, theatrical to her very core, for whom life without the stage – without costume, without makeup – was incomprehensible. Now, she was quiet and serene, away from the stage where, for nearly seven decades, her vibrant voice had resonated.
Nina Gulyaeva`s legacy is not just in the roles she played, but in the unwavering dedication, the quiet dignity, and the sheer joy she brought to her craft. She leaves behind a profound void in the hearts of those who loved her and a theatrical heritage that will continue to inspire generations.
