I chose Anton Chekhov’s «The Bear» after reading Yuri Shcheglov’s article «The Bear in Three Dimensions» — and suddenly felt, within Chekhov’s joke, the presence of a much larger Chekhov. I wanted to stage it so that it would be funny, frightening, and painful all at once: I buried the auditorium in foam insulation, dead horses, and mermaids, and by summer I had built a mausoleum for Popova in the institute courtyard. From this text, the story began. After it, not a single word of Chekhov was changed: «After the government’s thermonuclear self-strike on Siberia, the space from the Caspian Sea to the Amur Gulf turned to dust and debris — shattered by an unbound, endless war over nothing, everyone against everyone, in the boundless radioactive desert of the Russian world: of bears, vampires, and zombies, of ballet and literature.»