I've just edited a piece written by Vika in the aftermath of our cozy evening at Café du Théâtre right next to Helikon Opera on Bolshaya Nikitskaya last Thursday. The concept and the execution of the article were brilliant, its tone infectious - much like the director of the cafe itself. Vika said she will try to restore her original voice - I don't know why she feels the need to do so.
Anyway, here was my corrected version just in case it's the only time it ever sees print.
Anyway, here was my corrected version just in case it's the only time it ever sees print.
The inside seems even smaller than it looked from the outside just before you convinced yourself to come in. With your love for cavernous pre-Revolutionary interiors there's every danger this oh-so-cozy intimacy might bore you. Yet a quaint feeling of instantly belonging here envelops you the moment the smell of freshly baked bread arrayed next to the door hits you – even before you remove your coat. And then the enchantment begins.Post Scriptum: In the end Vika decided to run it as is with the editor of one of the magazines here. It's really her work, despite her demurrals. She was saying how my rewrite had put in too many French words. I guess that's the idea - but no more than what non-French speaking Anglophones normally use anyway.
"Oh Champs d'Elysée," squeaks the accordion and your soul echoes this famous melody from your memories of childhood. It can't be déjà vu? You've never been to Paris yet oddly your mind draws that picture-perfect snug-as-a-bug French café along Champs d'Elysée and yourself sitting comfortably in a wicker chair sipping café au lait. A waiter then pops out with a menu, interrupting your flight of fancy by rooting you in down-to-earth expectations of nourishment. The café's range is limited, you think to yourself. Then again, what else would a theatergoer ask for before going off to that play or dropping in after a show? Certainly not a heavy meal, what with all the endless fuss over dieting. Thus the light fare on offer may just be enough to put you in a festive mood or refresh your inner male late in the evening. If you're really hungry and have come for a full dinner, you'll find some things to choose from like meat or fish dishes plus some unbelievably good soup. They're not only a treat for the stomach but also a feast for the eyes. The plate looks fantastic and all of a sudden you start to feel exquisitely French, only it's not paté du fois gras or coq au vin that has mesmerized you but a huge chunk of salmon instead. You dare not ruin the illusion – your friends startle you before your hands even grasp a fork and knife. The prices are somewhat moderate and are worth the size of the dishes. For all these paeans the café's raison d'être lies not even in the cuisine.
Surely there is not a single foreigner in Moscow who has not been to or at least heard of Café Margarita in Patriarch Ponds. It has a certain renown among expatriates that matches the notoriety of Hungry Duck or Boar House. Café du Theatre belongs to the same genre as Margarita. The proprietors may not have wished to give explicit homage, but their live musical performances inescapably remind one of Margarita. The difference, however, which could allow Theatre to carve out its own niche, is that the guitarists and the pianist can and do sing to the accompaniment of the accordionist. Songs in Russian, Georgian, French, and Italian were sung during the evening as were French and Russian chansons, western songs popular in the USSR in the 1970-80s, Russian folk songs and anything else the diners requested. Good food, live music, and a chorus of multi-accented voices rose to the occasion. For those too shy to sing, tambourines, salt shakers and various percussion sets were provided to all the tables, allowing everyone to join in the performance in a very familial setting. The café interior, accented by crayon etchings of Parisian street scenes, is more European than Margarita's, which looks more like a Soviet-era book-crammed flat for the intelligentsia. All the same Café du Theatre is really a place by and for Bohemians – in the way Russians understand it at least – with Helikon Opera and Conservatory regulars stopping by to enjoy the dimly lit, vanilla-colored space served by extremely polite waiters and incredibly engaging host, Igor the Art Director.
As for service, the waiters are still a bit forgetful, seemingly carried away by the music and atmosphere. In some sense they reinforce the café's Bohemian concept of living in a cocoon in absent-minded wonder. While a reminder or two sometimes becomes necessary, it's certainly preferable and less annoying than Moscow's infamous hovering wait staff, probably because of the sincerity, innocence and docility accompanying the apologies. It makes you feel as if you are dining at a friend's home instead of being waited on in a downtown restaurant. How can you possibly get annoyed with your friend's family? This coziness makes you lose all sense of hurry: the tea lights continue to burn, the music plays on, the merry voices keep to the refrain, and your friends sit still by your side. All is well.
Truffaut titled one of his films Shoot the Piano Player. At Theatre, we would advise against it. That would mean going after the life of the party. Igor the Art Director is not only a good pianist with a good voice. This Jack Black look-alike can also pass for Vrubel's Demon and Carlson from a Russian cartoon. With dark long hair, magnetic eyes, youthful gait and an almost maniacal energy he appears and disappears in different parts of the café very unexpectedly. He might be Mozart's Figaro to some, the Tasmanian devil to others. He is all that and more. One moment he is ordering some treats for the musicians or welcoming a new guest, the next he is dancing, playing the piano and singing heartily to vigorous applause. With infectious aplomb and enthusiasm, he does everything to give his guests an unforgettable time while evidently having a good one himself.
If this has made you in the least bit curious, do go and check Café du Theatre out. With its 10 or so tables don't be surprised if you have to wait to be seated. Concerts are performed regularly but not nightly so calling in to ask the staff advance is advised: 290 01 47. Igor the Art Director will also helpful: 941 64 06.
The address is Bolshaya Nikitskaya, 19.
