Alksnin, Adrianna

Women are constantly struggling to be something (someone?) more than just a picture, a screen on which unrealistic expectations are projected. The author uses the biography of Sylvia Plath and the main character of the Bell Jar, Esther Greenwood, to create a bold and poetic piece that is an interpretation of the "sad girl theory".

The first part is devoted to the aspiring writer - Esther. Alksnin processes the tropes and motifs from Plath's novel, weaving in contemporary references to selfie-feminism, Lana Del Rey's ballads, carefully designed frames from popular social media or the language of popular magazines into the narrative. Greenwood is looking for a way to self-fulfillment, while struggling with unrealistic expectations. She is accompanied by a Nice Girl and a Naughty Girl, which might be her two contradictory internal voices. The second part of the play is devoted to Sylvia Plath. Plath treats her suicide as a kind of performance. She is aware of the consequences of this act - she knows that her death will turn into a dead, beautiful image transformed by culture and pop culture. No one will care about Sylvia's passing away, no one will be emotionally affected. The very physiological, disgusting aspect of dying will be aestheticised. Plath speaks not only as a woman, but also as an artist. She knows that her work (as opposed to her husband's) will be forgotten if she does not perform the memorable act. In this case, of course, it is taking her own life.

Maria is a woman who follows a clear, straightforward path, marked by the "commandment of tradition" and the "institutional requirements". She gets married, runs a house, tries to get along with her mother-in-law, plans a pregnancy with her husband. Everything changes at the moment when the woman miscarries the foetus - the titular three millimetres.

The woman is not able to do the "work of mourning" - everyone, including the Nurse and the Man in Black appearing out of nowhere (a priest), persuade Maria to baptise the child and to perform a burial. The more they insist, the more the rebellion against the social pressure on this and many other aspects of life arises in the heroine. A symbolic moment of rejection of her old identity is the change of her name to "Magdalena". Thus, the former virtuous and orderly Madonna, the icon of the ideal woman, becomes a blatant sinner - with the difference that her "fault" consists of rejecting traditional constructs and trying to look at her own needs.

"What should I bury? I don't even know if this life is lost in this clot or not, the blood was flowing warm and dense along my thighs, soaking into my pajama pants, pouring on the floor and soaking into the towel I was using to stop the bleeding. Should I bury the towel and pajamas too? Bless the dirty water that was used to scrub the floor? For me, the funeral has already taken place, leave me alone."

It is worth noting that the woman's actions are not radical. It is enough to abandon the duties of a "real woman", for the family and close and distant acquaintances to deny her honour and faith. Her mother-in-law contemptuously claims that she "got high on feminism", all while repeating clichés about her innate maternal instinct and the need to take care of the home hearth. The husband, who is occasionally accompanied by the mysterious Man in Black, uses biblical and pseudo-biblical phrases, pseudo-scientific demographic argumentation, and finally, simple blackmail to force his wife to produce a progeny. Magdalena tries to articulate her arguments, but as a woman and an individual she is doomed to fail. She is depressed, her body rejects another pregnancy. The woman symbolically regains her voice in the finale when she delivers a manifesto - a sort of confession of innocence. At this point, the heroine clearly refers to the current political situation.

"I wanted to make proposals.
I wanted the Constitution.
I wanted the Bill of Rights."

The author consciously employs linguistic and situational clichés to show the tragedy of woman/women in a poignant way. Maria/Magdalena is the only heroine with a name, although the name becomes the most oppressive tool - after all, the society consistently takes away her identity, pushing into subsequent stereotypical roles: an ideal mother, wife, daughter-in-law, Catholic. Her experiences will reflect those of many readers and spectators. This is an obligatory position for the contemporary Polish theatre.

The titular V.V. Constellation consists of three stars - the three faces of Violetta Villas, the Mystery Woman, the "voice of the atomic era". The first one, Vivi, is Villas at the peak of her fame, internally conflicted, torn, trying to prove to the world that she is more than just an image created for the entertainment industry, more than a fetish. At the same time, Vivi escapes from the schemes into which the patriarchy tries to push women (the author describes, among other things, the arranged marriage into which Villas entered at the age of only sixteen). Czesia is Czesława Gospodarek, or Villas before her career begins - naive, hungry for attention, fascinated by glitter. The third heroine, the Catwoman, is a reference to the great love that the artist had for animals, but this character also represents the independent side of Violetta's personality ("We are similar to each other. Two lonely women. Independent. We hate opposition. With sharp claws. But when we want to, we can be sweet and lovable. When we purr, we are irresistible).

The action of the piece, takes place in the space of the stage ("a scene in a cabaret, a little dressing room, a little hotel room"), which has a special significance. It's important - the whole play is in fact a confession, and it takes place in the spotlight. In this reality, the whole life is a great performance subject to the strict judgment of the audience.

Villas, in her colorful outfits and bizarre wigs is an image, a concept that is hard to get away from. The real Violetta is still looking for herself, she wants to live a simple life, "alike St Francis", asking only for a bit of closeness and understanding. At the same time, she cannot find peace with herself.

"A doll's hair, doll's hands, doll's legs, doll's heart. A doll's heart - a brave heart. You want to drink words from my lips. You want to feel my hot breath. Please. That's what I'm here for. Toss a coin and watch me sing, watch me bend over for you. Repeated, studied movements. Perfect. You want to play with me again, you want to hear my voice again. The voice of the atomic era. My fortissimo that makes the chandeliers burst. The price I pay to be who I am is high. You can't cry, so I cry for you, I cry for you, I cry for you […]”.

From the very beginning, at important moments in her career, the artist is interrogated by the demonic Impresario, making accusations or complaining about her disobedience:

Violetta "never wanted to be a mother, never wanted to be a wife." What do we really know about her? - Alksnin seems to be asking. Villas is "a girl in a woman's body," "a bed full of hair," "an angel in a baroque painting." We see hundreds of paintings, but none of them even come close to the truth. The author works out the mechanisms governing the dictate of the image, tries to look at Villas with empathy, but does not claim the right to discover the whole truth about the darkness withing the V.V. constellation. The art is also inlaid with fragments of the artist's lyrics and  reflects both the figure of the "star" and the mood of the era, moving towards the present. We see V.V. as a vivid creation and yet at the same time a shadow of a world-famous diva.

The author creates a report on the apocalypse, the final moments of the world that are happening before our eyes. Alksnin calls her work a "sylvan drama" – it is a meeting point for different genres, poetics, registers of language and topics. Criticism of man's exploitative economy intersects with criticism of various social relations, especially those founded on patriarchy. The author singles out xenophobia, racism, glorification of war, striving for social alienation, and juxtaposes this with the naïve attitude of the Internet social justice warrior, who tries to 'save' the planet with likes and tweets.

Where do we draw the line between ego-boosting slacktivism and a real and causal engagement in political activism? Do we, the little people, even have any influence on the fate of the world? One character states:

"I am one big shrug of the shoulders, I think only an air strike cutting off  Internet access would be ready to flush me out of my pathetic comfort zone."

In the face of an unstoppable catastrophe, sometimes all that's left is inaction and resignation:

"I'm waving to you, world, a white flag made of old underpants, I give up!", I croak from the sofa, drinking my tea. I give up, world, you won!"

Postcards from the End of the World, ghostly postcards from the centre of the Anthropocene, make up a dramatic score that can be written out for any number of people and realised in various forms, such as e.g. a concert.