Plays, laboratories, sketches. 2020-2026
Theatre
Reading of the play "Vvedensky. The Sun Over Kazan", laboratory "Mansion. Research"
Director - Ilnur Garifullin
As part of the project "Mansion.Research" from the "Living City" Foundation and the "Smena" festival in Kazan.
Metaphysical road-movie about the posthumous life of the poet-oberiut Alexander Vvedensky.
Short video
As part of the project "Mansion.Research" from the "Living City" Foundation and the "Smena" festival in Kazan.
Metaphysical road-movie about the posthumous life of the poet-oberiut Alexander Vvedensky.
Short video
Voice. The train is traveling through Tatarstan. Prisoners are being transported in the train car heading to Kazan.
Alexander Ivanovich Vvedensky, a poet, is sleeping there. He was arrested on September 27, 1941, in Kharkiv, along with many other individuals who had been previously repressed and (Officially) "subject to 'preventive evacuation' at the beginning of the war." He died, presumably—what a ridiculous word—on December 19 or 20, 1941.
But everything you see is not in 1941, nor in 2041. The path has no end, it goes on and on, interrupted for a while, but never ending.
Voice. Day one. Simple things.
Three prisoners are sleeping next to Vvedensky. One of them pushes the poet in the side.
Vvedensky. Brrr?
S. Dear, wake up, it's time for rounds. Wake up, stretch, and smile at the sun.
Vvedensky. What sun?
S. This one. Look, it's shining through the bars.
Vvedensky. I don't need the sun. I need water.
V. That's how it always is. They want what they don't have. But they don't want what they do have.
V. gives Vvedensky a green glass from a Soviet tea set. V n
Alexander Ivanovich Vvedensky, a poet, is sleeping there. He was arrested on September 27, 1941, in Kharkiv, along with many other individuals who had been previously repressed and (Officially) "subject to 'preventive evacuation' at the beginning of the war." He died, presumably—what a ridiculous word—on December 19 or 20, 1941.
But everything you see is not in 1941, nor in 2041. The path has no end, it goes on and on, interrupted for a while, but never ending.
Voice. Day one. Simple things.
Three prisoners are sleeping next to Vvedensky. One of them pushes the poet in the side.
Vvedensky. Brrr?
S. Dear, wake up, it's time for rounds. Wake up, stretch, and smile at the sun.
Vvedensky. What sun?
S. This one. Look, it's shining through the bars.
Vvedensky. I don't need the sun. I need water.
V. That's how it always is. They want what they don't have. But they don't want what they do have.
V. gives Vvedensky a green glass from a Soviet tea set. V n
Sketch of a performance based on the play "The Coup, the Birds, and the Ghosts" at the City Theatre Laboratory (Saint Petersburg), 2025
Director - Elena Levina.
The play was staged in 2025.
The play "The Coup, the Birds, and the Ghosts" was shortlisted in the "Why Do I Remember This?" competition and won the Dramaturg Workshop (Makhachkala, 2021).
Nika's grandmother dies during the Coup. Her old neighbor, Olga, must take Nika to his father, Sergei, in the countryside. As the city is shaken by historical upheaval, it becomes filled with ghosts. The deceased - Mom Ira and Grandpa Kolya - must help them. But there's a problem - the father doesn't know that he's a father. And the world is rapidly crumbling.
Video
The play was staged in 2025.
The play "The Coup, the Birds, and the Ghosts" was shortlisted in the "Why Do I Remember This?" competition and won the Dramaturg Workshop (Makhachkala, 2021).
Nika's grandmother dies during the Coup. Her old neighbor, Olga, must take Nika to his father, Sergei, in the countryside. As the city is shaken by historical upheaval, it becomes filled with ghosts. The deceased - Mom Ira and Grandpa Kolya - must help them. But there's a problem - the father doesn't know that he's a father. And the world is rapidly crumbling.
Video
The action takes place in an apartment on the 1st floor of the old Khrushchev. Grandma Olya is sleeping on the bed. Grandpa Kolya is sitting next to her, looking at her.
Kolya. Olya, Olya, get up, you're old, the old don't sleep so much.
Olya. It's not my fault that you're dead and you don't need to sleep at all. And also that you're bored and have nothing to do, I don't care.
Kolya. You have a lot to do. "Whatever," you're a Russian language teacher. Not ashamed?
Olya. Let me sleep, please.
Kolya leans towards her and speaks almost in her ear.
Kolya. I missed you, let's talk. So you were happy to see me in the first days.
Olya. Cry and be done with it. It would be better if you could fix the faucet.
Kolya. What a mercenary you are. I'm here for conversation. And for intelligent conversation.
Olya. (grumbles) You? For smart thoughts? You have eight years of education!
Kolya. You've lived with me for forty years.
Olya. Of course, the faucet wasn't leaking, and all the shelves were in place.
Kolya. I'm telling you, you're materialistic!
Olya pulls her legs off the bed and puts on her slippers.
Olya. Thanks to me, you know the word "materialistic," лимита.
Kolya. You've hurt me, oh, you've hurt me
Kolya. Olya, Olya, get up, you're old, the old don't sleep so much.
Olya. It's not my fault that you're dead and you don't need to sleep at all. And also that you're bored and have nothing to do, I don't care.
Kolya. You have a lot to do. "Whatever," you're a Russian language teacher. Not ashamed?
Olya. Let me sleep, please.
Kolya leans towards her and speaks almost in her ear.
Kolya. I missed you, let's talk. So you were happy to see me in the first days.
Olya. Cry and be done with it. It would be better if you could fix the faucet.
Kolya. What a mercenary you are. I'm here for conversation. And for intelligent conversation.
Olya. (grumbles) You? For smart thoughts? You have eight years of education!
Kolya. You've lived with me for forty years.
Olya. Of course, the faucet wasn't leaking, and all the shelves were in place.
Kolya. I'm telling you, you're materialistic!
Olya pulls her legs off the bed and puts on her slippers.
Olya. Thanks to me, you know the word "materialistic," лимита.
Kolya. You've hurt me, oh, you've hurt me
Short Play Competition "Stories" from the Subbota Theatre, 2024
The play "Herman - my woe," based on diaries found in a St. Petersburg garbage dump in May and August 2024, was longlisted at 26 out of 350.
The play "Herman - my woe," based on diaries found in a St. Petersburg garbage dump in May and August 2024, was longlisted at 26 out of 350.
4.
Alla's Voice. September 19, 1956. I never thought I'd remember your voice. And then one day, sitting in the lab, I heard it. Yes, yes, your voice! It caressed me, and I trembled at its sound. Everything was the same. The same long pauses when he answered, the same muffled beginnings of his sentences, and it still seemed like he was speaking at the top of his voice and was about to say something very important. I paced the room. The classroom was behind the wall; Gerka couldn't possibly be there. But the voice, the voice... the voice!
5.
1.00
It's getting even darker. Alla and Lyuska are illuminated only by the light near the house.
Lyuska. (Whewing a stick, it's clear he's been talking for a long time) ...you see, Dad left, everything went to hell. She couldn't handle it, the aunt. Three of them, all hungry, asking for a boob, Shirley Myrli resting. Kolyan's been in jail for three years, for car theft, Katya got married at 18, my nephew was three years old, Petya, but "the blues got to me," and they all ran away. And I, I'm no warrior in the field.
Alla. (She answers unexpectedly, hurt by something in his story.) No one's a warrior.
Lyusek. I'm a man (sings.), a vagabond, the Casanova of lonely love...
Alla. You're the child.
Lyusek. Yeah. The child.
Alla. The correct pronunciation is "the."
Lyusek. You're funny. I had a yellow "English" textbook at school... I loved it, but the boys and I burned it while roasting sausages. The fire wasn't going well.
Alla. You should say "you" to older people.
Lyusek. Okay. You're funny.
Alla. You're stupid. Lyusek. You're a fool. They say Dad is a fool. He never called. It's like a cow licked us off. Suddenly, it was gone. Not me, not Katya, not Kolyan. And Mom. Katya cried. But we didn't. We're used to shit.
Alla. Can you get used to it?
Lyusek. Ha, you're funny, I told you it's easy. Are you used to sitting here? Yeah, right. It's brutal, it's, well, shit. Fuck, romantic, sitting here, dispersing us sinful bridge-lovers. Bullshit. A childhood dream. Horror, flying on the wings of the night. Almost like cleaning toilets. I couldn't do it. Better to spend three days unloading train cars, chug-chug-chug. But you can't get used to this. (Points to the sky full of stars.) I never could. How is it that they shine in the past, but you can see it now?
Alla. It's like that with everything. (He gets up with difficulty and begins to stretch his legs.) It happened there, and now we see what happened.
Lyusek. And you. Husband. Do you have any?
Alla is silent.
Lyusek. And the husband?
Alla is silent and locks the window, indicating she doesn't want to continue the conversation. Lyusek doesn't see her take notebooks out of the closet one by one and arrange them around her. There are many notebooks, sheets of paper fall out, and Alla struggles to gather them up. A wind rushes in through the window and swirls them.
Alla's Voice. September 19, 1956. I never thought I'd remember your voice. And then one day, sitting in the lab, I heard it. Yes, yes, your voice! It caressed me, and I trembled at its sound. Everything was the same. The same long pauses when he answered, the same muffled beginnings of his sentences, and it still seemed like he was speaking at the top of his voice and was about to say something very important. I paced the room. The classroom was behind the wall; Gerka couldn't possibly be there. But the voice, the voice... the voice!
5.
1.00
It's getting even darker. Alla and Lyuska are illuminated only by the light near the house.
Lyuska. (Whewing a stick, it's clear he's been talking for a long time) ...you see, Dad left, everything went to hell. She couldn't handle it, the aunt. Three of them, all hungry, asking for a boob, Shirley Myrli resting. Kolyan's been in jail for three years, for car theft, Katya got married at 18, my nephew was three years old, Petya, but "the blues got to me," and they all ran away. And I, I'm no warrior in the field.
Alla. (She answers unexpectedly, hurt by something in his story.) No one's a warrior.
Lyusek. I'm a man (sings.), a vagabond, the Casanova of lonely love...
Alla. You're the child.
Lyusek. Yeah. The child.
Alla. The correct pronunciation is "the."
Lyusek. You're funny. I had a yellow "English" textbook at school... I loved it, but the boys and I burned it while roasting sausages. The fire wasn't going well.
Alla. You should say "you" to older people.
Lyusek. Okay. You're funny.
Alla. You're stupid. Lyusek. You're a fool. They say Dad is a fool. He never called. It's like a cow licked us off. Suddenly, it was gone. Not me, not Katya, not Kolyan. And Mom. Katya cried. But we didn't. We're used to shit.
Alla. Can you get used to it?
Lyusek. Ha, you're funny, I told you it's easy. Are you used to sitting here? Yeah, right. It's brutal, it's, well, shit. Fuck, romantic, sitting here, dispersing us sinful bridge-lovers. Bullshit. A childhood dream. Horror, flying on the wings of the night. Almost like cleaning toilets. I couldn't do it. Better to spend three days unloading train cars, chug-chug-chug. But you can't get used to this. (Points to the sky full of stars.) I never could. How is it that they shine in the past, but you can see it now?
Alla. It's like that with everything. (He gets up with difficulty and begins to stretch his legs.) It happened there, and now we see what happened.
Lyusek. And you. Husband. Do you have any?
Alla is silent.
Lyusek. And the husband?
Alla is silent and locks the window, indicating she doesn't want to continue the conversation. Lyusek doesn't see her take notebooks out of the closet one by one and arrange them around her. There are many notebooks, sheets of paper fall out, and Alla struggles to gather them up. A wind rushes in through the window and swirls them.
A performance based on the play "Extra (Things)"
Director - Elena Levina, February 2024
A story about a woman, told at three different ages. She disappears, and to find her grandmother, her granddaughter must return to her old apartment, filled with her belongings.
The play was written during a residency at the "Artkommunalka. Erofeev and Others" museum in 2022. The actors are non-professionals.
One of the components of the residency is an exhibition of objects, the "memory keepers" of Kolomna residents.
One of my areas of interest is material culture, the anthropology of objects, memory and objects, and the death of objects. Therefore, the project is based on the museum's collection of objects from everyday life in the 1960s.
A notebook where children left wishes; "Red Moscow" perfume; shoes, cufflinks; an earring without a stone—all these are sources of memories. You can hide in them and drown. They are also the key to salvation.
A story about a woman, told at three different ages. She disappears, and to find her grandmother, her granddaughter must return to her old apartment, filled with her belongings.
The play was written during a residency at the "Artkommunalka. Erofeev and Others" museum in 2022. The actors are non-professionals.
One of the components of the residency is an exhibition of objects, the "memory keepers" of Kolomna residents.
One of my areas of interest is material culture, the anthropology of objects, memory and objects, and the death of objects. Therefore, the project is based on the museum's collection of objects from everyday life in the 1960s.
A notebook where children left wishes; "Red Moscow" perfume; shoes, cufflinks; an earring without a stone—all these are sources of memories. You can hide in them and drown. They are also the key to salvation.
Natalia. I gave birth to twins. We brought them home. And the cat sat on the boy's face. While I was hanging the laundry, he suffocated. Our cat is big and gray. Beautiful, oh my! Her eyes are green, like my favorite glasses. We got a set for our anniversary. My husband didn't understand why I didn't let her be thrown out or put to sleep. But how can you explain that? I looked into her eyes and remembered everything.
There was a girl left, yes.
She takes plastic buttons from children's dresses out of a sewing box, and a photo of the button appears on the screen.
And the cat stayed. A stupid animal, what can you ask of her?
Grandma Natasha. I looked at her, and my son is always standing next to me, smiling at me. He comes home at night and says, "Mom, don't cry, I'm happy here." Mom, don't cry, look. The child is foolish, but she understands. And I wipe my face with my apron. My daughter asks why I'm crying. I keep quiet and go into the barn. I'll sit for a while and then come out.
Natasha. Borka and Froska grunted in the barn all summer. And then in the fall, they disappeared somewhere.
Natalya. I walk around with my purse. I collect stones in it. Or I sit on the beach, combing the sand with my fingers. My husband, Alyosha, whispers, coaxes. Auntie shouts. I just nod. The neighbor helps them. She goes to the milk kitchen. Feeds him. Takes him for walks. Irons his shirts.
<...>
Winter. Lika arrives at her grandmother's apartment. She sees that everything is cluttered with things.
Lika. Grandma is:
"Ballet" cream and fine, fragrant powder;
"Red Moscow" perfume. I always painted Moscow red. When we moved, I was surprised to see it was multicolored. A yellow sewing box full of buttons. You can play with them;
shoes. I could put my little feet in them and walk like a grown-up; (Lika tries on Grandma's shoes; now they fit her)
the smell of vinegar in her hair;
tooth powder, you want to chew it, it smells so delicious;
an earring I clutched in my fist when we left. It's long, it jingles when you shake it (Lika takes it out of her pocket and shakes it)
tears on Mom's birthday when she's not looking.
A voice offstage. Likusha, you're such a slob. Grandma, who is a slob? A very clumsy person. Marya Ivanovna was drinking tea, but her stomach was cold. Would you like some tea? I will, Mamushka. Why Mamushka? You're everything at once. Mom is sleeping, she's tired, but I didn't play either. I don't spin the top, I sat down and sat. Don't make noise, Likusha.
Lika. I'm not making noise, Grandma. I'll sit here quietly with you. Where are you?
Lika can't find any photographs. Just one of Grandma with Lika and Lena. She takes it and puts it in her pocket.
There was a girl left, yes.
She takes plastic buttons from children's dresses out of a sewing box, and a photo of the button appears on the screen.
And the cat stayed. A stupid animal, what can you ask of her?
Grandma Natasha. I looked at her, and my son is always standing next to me, smiling at me. He comes home at night and says, "Mom, don't cry, I'm happy here." Mom, don't cry, look. The child is foolish, but she understands. And I wipe my face with my apron. My daughter asks why I'm crying. I keep quiet and go into the barn. I'll sit for a while and then come out.
Natasha. Borka and Froska grunted in the barn all summer. And then in the fall, they disappeared somewhere.
Natalya. I walk around with my purse. I collect stones in it. Or I sit on the beach, combing the sand with my fingers. My husband, Alyosha, whispers, coaxes. Auntie shouts. I just nod. The neighbor helps them. She goes to the milk kitchen. Feeds him. Takes him for walks. Irons his shirts.
<...>
Winter. Lika arrives at her grandmother's apartment. She sees that everything is cluttered with things.
Lika. Grandma is:
"Ballet" cream and fine, fragrant powder;
"Red Moscow" perfume. I always painted Moscow red. When we moved, I was surprised to see it was multicolored. A yellow sewing box full of buttons. You can play with them;
shoes. I could put my little feet in them and walk like a grown-up; (Lika tries on Grandma's shoes; now they fit her)
the smell of vinegar in her hair;
tooth powder, you want to chew it, it smells so delicious;
an earring I clutched in my fist when we left. It's long, it jingles when you shake it (Lika takes it out of her pocket and shakes it)
tears on Mom's birthday when she's not looking.
A voice offstage. Likusha, you're such a slob. Grandma, who is a slob? A very clumsy person. Marya Ivanovna was drinking tea, but her stomach was cold. Would you like some tea? I will, Mamushka. Why Mamushka? You're everything at once. Mom is sleeping, she's tired, but I didn't play either. I don't spin the top, I sat down and sat. Don't make noise, Likusha.
Lika. I'm not making noise, Grandma. I'll sit here quietly with you. Where are you?
Lika can't find any photographs. Just one of Grandma with Lika and Lena. She takes it and puts it in her pocket.
The play "Magnificent Rain" (shortlisted for the Chekhov Non-Fiction Laboratory, 2020)
A documentary play in which there isn't a single original line—only stage directions. I used the diary of Anton Pavlovich Chekhov's father, Pavel Yegorovich, and Chekhov's own notebooks.
It's a dialogue without dialogue. There seems to be no connection between the phrases "It rained at night, and the road was covered in dust" and "The dog ate the yellow dove," which Pavel Yegorovich wrote about life on the Melikhovo estate, and the notes of his son, the writer. But the connection is discernible. There's rhythm and rhyme within, a subtle thread of kinship.
"Pavel Yegorovich. A large path has been made, from the house to the fence.
They roll out the path past the bench. Too close to Anton Pavlovich.
Anton Pavlovich. Life seems grand, enormous, but you're sitting on a tiny patch of ground."
With this idea, I participated in the pitching of the Suzdal Animation Festival from ASPI (short, 2023) (animated film in the "animodock" genre "Chekhov, I am your father") and in the illustrated book competition from the A+A imprint (longlist)
A documentary play in which there isn't a single original line—only stage directions. I used the diary of Anton Pavlovich Chekhov's father, Pavel Yegorovich, and Chekhov's own notebooks.
It's a dialogue without dialogue. There seems to be no connection between the phrases "It rained at night, and the road was covered in dust" and "The dog ate the yellow dove," which Pavel Yegorovich wrote about life on the Melikhovo estate, and the notes of his son, the writer. But the connection is discernible. There's rhythm and rhyme within, a subtle thread of kinship.
"Pavel Yegorovich. A large path has been made, from the house to the fence.
They roll out the path past the bench. Too close to Anton Pavlovich.
Anton Pavlovich. Life seems grand, enormous, but you're sitting on a tiny patch of ground."
With this idea, I participated in the pitching of the Suzdal Animation Festival from ASPI (short, 2023) (animated film in the "animodock" genre "Chekhov, I am your father") and in the illustrated book competition from the A+A imprint (longlist)
still from the video:
Anton Pavlovich. "Mom, Petya didn't pray to God!" They wake Petya, he prays and cries, then lies down and shakes his fist at the one who complained.
One of the actors by the garden shakes his fist at the ceiling.
Pavel Yegorovich. The cherry, pear, and plum trees are blooming.
They bring several trees, and they pin flowers on them. One of the flowers is pinned on Anton Pavlovich.
Anton Pavlovich. Why do the trees grow so lushly if the owners are dead?
Pavel Yegorovich. A large path has been made, from the house to the fence.
They roll out the path past the bench. Too close to Anton Pavlovich.
Anton Pavlovich. Life seems great, enormous, but you're sitting on a tiny patch of ground.
One of the actors by the garden shakes his fist at the ceiling.
Pavel Yegorovich. The cherry, pear, and plum trees are blooming.
They bring several trees, and they pin flowers on them. One of the flowers is pinned on Anton Pavlovich.
Anton Pavlovich. Why do the trees grow so lushly if the owners are dead?
Pavel Yegorovich. A large path has been made, from the house to the fence.
They roll out the path past the bench. Too close to Anton Pavlovich.
Anton Pavlovich. Life seems great, enormous, but you're sitting on a tiny patch of ground.
Sketch based on the play "The Merchant of Memories"
As part of the Moscow Regional Puppet Theater's "Little Drama" workshop, 2021. Director: Konstantin Zemlyansky
A story about a world where people have learned to buy and sell memories in the form of cocktails.
A story about a world where people have learned to buy and sell memories in the form of cocktails.
The play "Alexander Nikolaevich, Dear"
As part of the 2022 Union of Theatre Workers' Union scholarship for talented young people.
I based this on Ostrovsky's diary, which he kept during the last year of his life, posts from a women's forum, Tinder profiles, and a Book Club meeting dedicated to "The Dowry."
The heroines come to the dying playwright to "get even" for their lives. And the Book Club members, in our time, wonder: "Do women without a dowry still exist?"
For this project, I directed the reading myself.
I based this on Ostrovsky's diary, which he kept during the last year of his life, posts from a women's forum, Tinder profiles, and a Book Club meeting dedicated to "The Dowry."
The heroines come to the dying playwright to "get even" for their lives. And the Book Club members, in our time, wonder: "Do women without a dowry still exist?"
For this project, I directed the reading myself.
"Kolya. They're discussing how Larisa's mother found a suitor. Karandyshev. Whom she hopes to love. He was pathetic, wanted to shoot himself, but couldn't. He drank. A minor official.
Danya. They were all drinking. This is Russian literature, after all.
Kolya. They were discussing who they should marry and how to increase their capital. All that: "I want to buy a steamship."
Danya. I hear that from my boys every weekend. Oh, I think I'll buy a steamship!
6.
Fade to black. Alexander Nikolaevich enters, holding a candle, and Larisa. She's still standing behind him. Night.
Alexander Nikolaevich. Letter from Mysovskaya. I caught a cold during rehearsals and fell ill; I have a terrible catarrh and constant shortness of breath: my lungs are filled with water, I can't sleep at night and am afraid of suffocating at any moment.
Larisa. Alexander Nikolaevich, Dear.
Alexander Nikolaevich. (shudders, looks around in panic) Who's there? What's wrong?
Larisa. Of course. (moves closer to the light) Don't you recognize me? (sings) Don't tempt me unnecessarily.
(The chorus of heroines sings along with Larisa)
Danya. They were all drinking. This is Russian literature, after all.
Kolya. They were discussing who they should marry and how to increase their capital. All that: "I want to buy a steamship."
Danya. I hear that from my boys every weekend. Oh, I think I'll buy a steamship!
6.
Fade to black. Alexander Nikolaevich enters, holding a candle, and Larisa. She's still standing behind him. Night.
Alexander Nikolaevich. Letter from Mysovskaya. I caught a cold during rehearsals and fell ill; I have a terrible catarrh and constant shortness of breath: my lungs are filled with water, I can't sleep at night and am afraid of suffocating at any moment.
Larisa. Alexander Nikolaevich, Dear.
Alexander Nikolaevich. (shudders, looks around in panic) Who's there? What's wrong?
Larisa. Of course. (moves closer to the light) Don't you recognize me? (sings) Don't tempt me unnecessarily.
(The chorus of heroines sings along with Larisa)
Other projects:
- The play "The River of Bones" (shortlisted for the Subbota Theatre competition), 2021.
After a game of "Truth or Dare," a teenager drowns in the river. The girl he was in love with returns to the village after 15 years.
- The play "(Un)Extra Things" about the belongings of those who stayed behind and those who left (won the "Hunt for Reality" competition at Teatr.doc). Read plays.
- The play "Khamar-Daban" about Korovina's last tour group in the Khamar-Daban Mountains (with puppet theater elements).
- The play "Orbit. Sugar-Free" about the last Soviet cosmonaut Sergei Krikalev and the first rave in the "Cosmos" pavilion at VDNKh.
The play was read in 2025 at the Molchanov Library and Cultural Complex.
- The play "Ioniad." People trapped in the interworld find themselves on the brink of life and death. To decide whether to continue the struggle or give up, they must stage a play based on the Book of Jonah and other texts related to this story.
The children's play "49 Kittens," longlisted for the "Young People" competition. A hedgehog adopts 49 kittens he found in the forest. In 2024, she reworked the story and won second place in the competition for best short work for children held by Nastya and Nikita Publishing House.
The play "Little Red Riding Hood in Tilichiki." About Kamchatka legends, the tales of Little Red Riding Hood, and the history of earthquakes in the village of Tilichiki.
The play "Song of Innocence and Experience," a one-woman play about women.
Laboratories and other competitions
- Participating laboratory "From Author to Screenwriter" in Peredelkino, 2023;
- Participant of the Musical Lab from the Perm Theatre-Theatre, 2022;
- Winner of the Suzdal Animation Festival Ideas Pitching Selection, 2023.
- Participant of the Ballet Criticism Lab, 2024 (for me, as part of developing a dance performance).
- Longlisted for the Sast short film competition, 2023.
- Participant of the "Changing the Cultural Environment Together" Lab (New Stage of the Alexandrinsky Theatre and the Inclusion School), 2021.
- Participant of the "Ostrovsky. Reboot" Lab (Shchelykovo Estate Museum), 2021.
- Participant of the ASPIR writers' exhibition in Veliky Novgorod, seminars in Petrozavodsk, Murmansk, Makhachkala, and Young Writers' Forums of various years.
New:
Shortlisted for the Yeltsin Center's "Why Do I Remember This" competition with the idea for a biopic play by artist Alexander Petrelli, "The Coat Man";
Participated in an ASPIR workshop led by playwrights Dmitry Danilov and Rodion Beletsky in Murmansk (June 2024).
- The play "The River of Bones" (shortlisted for the Subbota Theatre competition), 2021.
After a game of "Truth or Dare," a teenager drowns in the river. The girl he was in love with returns to the village after 15 years.
- The play "(Un)Extra Things" about the belongings of those who stayed behind and those who left (won the "Hunt for Reality" competition at Teatr.doc). Read plays.
- The play "Khamar-Daban" about Korovina's last tour group in the Khamar-Daban Mountains (with puppet theater elements).
- The play "Orbit. Sugar-Free" about the last Soviet cosmonaut Sergei Krikalev and the first rave in the "Cosmos" pavilion at VDNKh.
The play was read in 2025 at the Molchanov Library and Cultural Complex.
- The play "Ioniad." People trapped in the interworld find themselves on the brink of life and death. To decide whether to continue the struggle or give up, they must stage a play based on the Book of Jonah and other texts related to this story.
The children's play "49 Kittens," longlisted for the "Young People" competition. A hedgehog adopts 49 kittens he found in the forest. In 2024, she reworked the story and won second place in the competition for best short work for children held by Nastya and Nikita Publishing House.
The play "Little Red Riding Hood in Tilichiki." About Kamchatka legends, the tales of Little Red Riding Hood, and the history of earthquakes in the village of Tilichiki.
The play "Song of Innocence and Experience," a one-woman play about women.
Laboratories and other competitions
- Participating laboratory "From Author to Screenwriter" in Peredelkino, 2023;
- Participant of the Musical Lab from the Perm Theatre-Theatre, 2022;
- Winner of the Suzdal Animation Festival Ideas Pitching Selection, 2023.
- Participant of the Ballet Criticism Lab, 2024 (for me, as part of developing a dance performance).
- Longlisted for the Sast short film competition, 2023.
- Participant of the "Changing the Cultural Environment Together" Lab (New Stage of the Alexandrinsky Theatre and the Inclusion School), 2021.
- Participant of the "Ostrovsky. Reboot" Lab (Shchelykovo Estate Museum), 2021.
- Participant of the ASPIR writers' exhibition in Veliky Novgorod, seminars in Petrozavodsk, Murmansk, Makhachkala, and Young Writers' Forums of various years.
New:
Shortlisted for the Yeltsin Center's "Why Do I Remember This" competition with the idea for a biopic play by artist Alexander Petrelli, "The Coat Man";
Participated in an ASPIR workshop led by playwrights Dmitry Danilov and Rodion Beletsky in Murmansk (June 2024).