—You don’t look like Mangiafuoco at all, Sir!

And do you think I should?

— Well, how else can it be when there are so many Pinocchios, Blue-Haired Fairies and Harlequins around? A whip surely comes in handy…

I can be tough at times, I’m told. I’ll even concede that this is really so, since I cannot see myself through other people’s eyes. Nevertheless, in any situation, I prefer to talk to people, to persuade others, and not issue orders. Everybody who comes to my office must be sure that I will first listen to what I’m being told and present my own counterarguments only after that. The ideal situation is where the person in front of me not only agrees with my opinion, but also entirely shares it. That’s the easiest way of implementing any decisions that have been made. I’m the chief traffic controller, if you wish. I govern and direct, while it’s other people’s job to go and have things done.

In fairness, I must admit that I’m not personally acquainted with many of the Bolshoi’s employees. Not everyone here on our team are what you describe as Pinocchios, Blue-Haired Fairies and Harlequins. The Boris Pokrovsky Chamber Theater joined us starting from this season, so now I have 3,200 people under my command. I do know all leading opera and ballet performers, some of the musicians in the orchestra, some choir singers and extras, the heads of the engineering and other services, but I’m physically unable to remember all people by name.

Incidentally, my job does not imply this. I never get in touch with most staffers in my everyday work. Makhar Vaziyev is responsible for the ballet company. Tugan Sokhiyev – the chief conductor - takes care of everything concerning music. I completely trust this “Ossetian Mafia”, as I sometimes jokingly call them. I don’t meddle in their affairs unless there is an urgent need.

— And when is your personal participation definitely required?

What I’ve just said a minute ago does not contradict the hard fact that the realm of my responsibility encompasses everything related to the Bolshoi Theater. After all, I was the one who invited Vaziyev and Sokhiyev to the company. If they fail in some respect, their boss will be always to blame.

Do you have a ruling trio or a one-man command system?

We make decisions together, because this is the only way it works. Dictating is not the best means of administration, and it is utterly impermissible when it comes to the arts.

There are certain things that constitute a CEO’s exclusive purview. In global terms, my job is to create a comfortable setting for the company’s normal operation, inside the theater’s building and elsewhere. This includes a lot of things which are too numerous to count, even settling what might seem to be purely personal, domestic affairs.

— Including the housing question? Are you saying proper accommodation is not a headache for the Bolshoi’s artists anymore?

Right, everything is in perfect order. We have plans for putting up another apartment building for our employees on cooperative terms. The finishing touches are being put on a hostel for young artists. The theater’s old workshops are behind the Federation Council’s building. We’ll move our print shop there, too.

We provide corporate housing for some employees who work for us on contract. On Kuznetsky Most Street, we will open a four-storey apartment building for guest artists invited to participate in the Bolshoi’s productions, and the rooms will have all the essentials and conveniences, even kitchenware. You will agree that it is far more convenient to live in an apartment than in a hotel, given that the level of comfort is the same.

Some of our artists prefer to buy apartments that are ready for immediate occupancy, for which they take out commercial loans from a bank. In that case, the theater undertakes paying the interest on such loans, in full. Our sponsors reserve a certain sum for this purpose every year.

— And what if there are far more applicants than the theater can afford at the moment?

As soon as the annual allowance is spent, we put it on hold and say: “Dear all! You will be able to take out a loan next year!” So, everybody waits calmly for their turn. The waiting list is not very long. In fact, I would even say, it is short. In any case, all of the leading soloists have had a chance to use this opportunity already.

— Was the program launched while you were at the helm?

Yes, it all began several years ago.

— Is this benefit available to the boss?

Of course, not. I’ve never used such bonuses in my life. The director should not be entitled to any privileges in such matters. It is a matter of principle.

The three-room apartment we’ve earned over the decades is quite enough for my wife Irina and me. Our son, Andrei, lives separately in an apartment he inherited from his grandfather.

In a word, our housing issues were settled once and for all long ago. I did that on my own. I’m in the Bolshoi to do my job right. Nothing else should be allowed to intervene. Take a look at my colleagues. In ballet, for instance. Makhar Vaziyev works from early morning till late evening. Sometimes I invite him to keep me company to go to see the first showing in some other theater. It’s always interesting to see what your colleagues are up to. In reply, I always hear: “I’m busy giving a performance tonight.” I’ll say: “You give a performance every day.” But you can’t throw Makhar off course. “No, no. We have a new substitute this time. I’m obliged to see it myself.” This is his real attitude to his duties. He is certain that it cannot be otherwise. Tugan Sokhiyev is no different from the chief choreographer in this sense. The theater needs such devoted enthusiasts.

I’ve been very fortunate throughout my lifetime. Whatever theater company I joined, I found myself in a truly creative environment. It’s been this way since my work at the Young Spectator’s Theater in Kirov, when Alexei Borodin was in charge. Now he runs the Russian Academic Youth Theater (RAYT) in Moscow.

— You are neighbors, aren’t you?

We have been for many years. From time to time, we get together. Each time we can only grin at the thought we don’t have to go very far to see each other. The RAYT building is just a couple of hundred meters away from the Bolshoi on the same square. I’m very lucky to have such wonderful people around me, and the relationship within the company is excellent.

— But you prefer to keep the “Take care of me! Nobody can fill my shoes!” sign on your desk anyway. I saw it in the same place in the summer of 2013, when you’d just moved into the office of the Bolshoi’s CEO.

It’s a good luck charm. I brought this sign with me from the Stanislavski and Nemirovich-Danchenko Moscow Academic Music Theater. I had a habit of inspecting all of the theater’s rooms once every three months. I’d poke my nose into every corner, just to see for myself if everything was in perfect order. One day, when I visited the chief of the theater’s workshops, this sign caught my eye. I grinned: “Man, that’s what I call cheeky. Don’t you know that I’m your boss and that I’m still alive?” He waved his hands dismissively: “Please, have it as a token of remembrance.” So, I took it and picked out a prominent place for it so everybody could see it.

Everybody knows it is a joke. I think I have enough self-irony for an adequate opinion of my own personality. This sign is at least 15 years old.

— Is there anything else the Bolshoi’s boss is unable to afford?

Let me think… Lots of things! If I begin to count them on my fingers, they would not suffice. The first thing that comes to mind is I have no spare time at all. Work devours it all. Fortunately, my wife works quite nearby.

— Oh, yes. Irina leads the Bolshoi’s strategic planning section. Do you come to work together?

Normally, I’m the first to arrive. In this respect, Irina’s schedule is far laxer. She is not obliged to stay in her office all day long. We seldom see each other during the day. We even have lunch separately, at different times. However, we share a common cause. This is extremely important.—

— Haven’t you been castigated for nepotism?

You bet! Is there a detractor who would pass up the chance to take a swipe at me? Our family ties are brought up at every available chance or for no reason at all. I can’t stop anyone from chattering. I just don’t pay attention. Irina is a top-notch professional. She led the international relations office at the Stanislavsky Theater. She is well-known around the world. When we met, she knew a whole lot more about the musical theater than I did. Irina is a self-made person and she certainly does not need my patronage or protection. Ours is certainly not the type of situation where a husband secures a lucrative spot for his spouse. It’s the other way around. I would’ve looked silly and strange, had I not used the potential of a specialist close at hand, and under the same roof. In the world of artistic, creative professions, family tandems and duos are a widespread phenomenon, not to mention dynasties.

It’s an entirely different matter that spouses should not be financially dependent on each other. In this respect, there can be no mutuality between them. Irina is responsible entirely for artistic matters. She plans future repertoires. Her proposals are then forwarded to the chiefs of the opera and ballet companies and they decide all the rest. She is accountable only for her business trips, so there isn’t anything to find fault with, even if you try real hard.

But let me finish the question about the things and liberties the Bolshoi’s director is unable to afford.

Quite often, I’m unable to speak my mind, to express my own opinion, because I exist in a very complex environment. I always dodge answering my colleagues’ questions of what I think about some artist or stage production. I have no such opportunity.

— And do you feel an urge to say something?

Of course, I do! I’m a human being. I can see and hear many things. I draw certain conclusions but just stay mum. I like some productions and dislike others. I might not share and accept certain things that happen in the Bolshoi, but the CEO is not in the position to speak about that in public. It’s the law of genre and professional ethics.

For the same reason I am unable to reply to critics. Even to those who attack me personally. Sometimes, I am seriously tempted to tell them: “What you write and say is not true.” Nonetheless, I keep my emotions under control and restrain from entering into arguments, even though I can strike back very hard. Don’t you worry.

— Why hold your emotions back when you feel you are right?

Let me tell you this. Usually, it is worth arguing with such people about what you do, and not what you say. No discussion about the arts has ever resolved artistic issues. For me it is far more important to prove my point in actual practice instead of trying to settle scores verbally.

Incidentally, when disinformation does not concern me personally, but is aimed at the theater and inflicts moral damage to it, then I always respond with strong comments and demand apologies. If a mass media outlet acknowledges one’s mistake and puts forward its apologies, then I regard the incident as settled. Occasionally, some people prefer to insist. In this case, I am prepared to take any retaliatory steps, even as far as going to court, because, let me say it again, there is the honor of the Bolshoi Theater at stake and nobody will ever get away with harming it.

— Have there been any precedents of such lawsuits?

Our opponents were smart enough not to go too far. They knew very well they would lose and at the very last minute, they backtracked…

—Have you ever felt like giving an opponent a good punch, I mean literally?

Sure! The Bolshoi Theater is an excellent brand name for self-promotion, and some people sometimes get really mean, if you don’t mind my saying so. There are also those who may try to achieve self-acclaim at our expense using some nasty tricks, marring our productions and spreading rumors and gossip… If they are to be believed, it might seem that everything here is terrible, even disastrous!

Regrettably, a great many people are stricken with jealousy. Some of them worked here before, but at a certain point, they had to leave, yet they did not find any good fortune elsewhere. It is always far easier to blame one’s own failures and problems on others and to settle scores with the self-sufficient and the successful. God will judge them.

But it’s an open secret that sometimes I have the strongest wish to retaliate.