Renata Litvinova: Kraljica umetnosti

Pedesetprva kolekcija visoke mode kuće Balenciaga ostala je upečatljiva jednako po dramatičnim ručno rađenim kreacijama, kao i po odabiru modela i pojedinaca koji su garderobu predstavili. Od Dua Lipe, Nicol Kidman i Naomi Campbell, Demna Gvasalija je genijalno uradio selekciju diva koje su ovekovečile trenutak.

U haljini midi dužine sa motivima perja koji u stvari deluju kao bodlje, pojavila se žena koju je bilo nemoguće primetiti. Našminkama u maniru Marelene Dietrich iz tridesetih, ona je plenila pažnju lepotom koja deluje davno izgubljena. Njeno ime je Renata Litvinova, glumica i rediteljka, koja je ujedno i muza jednog od najznačajnijih i provokativnijih kreatora danas.

Kada vas Gvasalija opisuje kao „živu skulpturu“, da li to doživljavate kao priznanje vašoj sposobnosti da oživite njegove vizije, ili kao potvrdu zajedničkog estetskog jezika koji prevazilazi modne trendove?

Volim obe interpretacije. Spremna sam da budem njegova muza jer je, na kraju krajeva, genije koji radi sa visokom modom s lakoćom. Njegovi estetski kodovi rezonuju sa mojim – on slama pravila, a u isti mah održava nasleđe kuće kao što je to Balenciaga. Humanista je i revolucionar, vizionar kakvog sam retko srela.

Postoji li odevni komad koji doživljavate kao fizički produžetak sebe?

Svilena pidžama. Spavam u njima, nosim ih, bez obzira da li je toplo ili hladno. Moraju da imaju duge rukave i da budu nekoliko brojeva veće. To je bila tajna mladosti moje bake – svila štiti kožu od starenja. I iskreno, zaista deluje.

“Demnini estetski kodovi rezonuju sa mojim – on slama pravila,
a u isti mah održava nasleđe kuće kao što je to Balenciaga”

Vaša teatralna šminka deluje poput maske — da li vam ona pruža kreativnu slobodu ili predstavlja štit od spoljnog sveta?

Pruža mi i jedno i drugo. Pomaže mi da ostvarim oba svoja života – onaj sa maskom i onaj bez. To su moje dve polarnosti, stvaran život i onaj koji sam sama izmislila. Role koje igram su vrlo dramatične i teatralne, ubice, lude žene. Kada stavim šminku, na sceni mogu da ubijem čoveka, nisam više svoja i sve ću uraditi za rolu. Šminka je krajnji korak pre nego što zakoračim u ulogu, bez obzira da li je film ili pozorište.

U vašim filmskim ulogama, kostim često deluje kao svojevrsni ko-glumac. Možete li se setiti trenutka kada vam je kostim suštinski promenio način na koji ste pristupili liku?

Kada nosim običnu odeću imam osećaj da prave barijeru između mene i uloge. Uvek mi fali dodir čudnovatosti, jedinstvenosti, makar to bila i neka mana na odevnom komadu. Zato mi Demnine kreacije toliko odgovaraju – dolaze iz realnog života, ali i iz imaginarnog sveta. Mešaju granice realnosti sa magičnim. Kao da ga čujem kako mi govori – Nije dovoljno ludo i onda doda dašak svog modnog ludila našem sivilu.

U vašem stilu prepoznaju se tragovi sovjetske avangarde i zapadnog dekadentizma — da li to doživljavate kao dijalog dve tradicije ili kao nešto sasvim lično?

Ruski avangardni umetnici dvadesetih godina prošlog veka imali su značajan uticaj na ceo kreativni svet – bez obzira da li je to slikarstvo, film, pozorište, poezija ili literatura. Kao što sami znamo vreme se ciklično ponavlja, kao i njegove tendencije. Osećaj povratak interpretiranih ideja, ali potpuno novi način. Isti haos, ista patnja u svetu se ponovo javlja i stvara eho u svima nama.

Koji vam je filmski lik bio najbliži na emotivnom nivou i da li vam je neka uloga ikada promenila pogled na samu sebe?

Moja prva pozorišna uloga je bila jedna od velikih heroina Antona Chekova – Lyubov Ranevskaya u komadu Višnjik. Poput mene, ona napušta Rusiju i odlazi za Pariz. Uvek je zaljubljena i za nju, ljubav je iznad svega. Igrala sam je sa 33 godine i ta rola je promenila moj život. Počela sam da radim i na filmu i u pozorištu, napisala sam nekoliko porozišnih komada i organizovala njihovu produkciju u moskovskom Umetničkom pozorištu. U Parizu to je bio slučaj sa još dve predstave u Théâtre Hébertot i imam tu sreću da putujem svetom na turnejama sa kolegama i srodnim dušama.

“Kada nosim običnu odeću imam osećaj da prave barijeru
između mene i uloge.
Uvek mi fali dodir čudnovatosti, jedinstvenosti, makar to bila i neka mana na odevnom komadu”

Postoji li uloga koju biste danas igrali drugačije, s obzirom na umetnički i lični razvoj? Šta biste promenili?

Odbila sam mnogo dobrih uloga od kvalitetnih reditelja jer se nikada nisam osećala samo kao glumica. Oduvek sam bila zainteresovana da radim za sebe, pišem za sebe i da glumim u filmovima koje sam samostalno osmislila. Ne žalim ni za jednom rolom koju sam ili nisam igrala. Kao što heroina koju glumim u pozorištu u Parizu – Ne treba ti puno velikih uloga. Treba ti samo jedna, ali odlična.

Kako vam kostim pomaže da „uđete u kožu“ lika — da li vam daje fizičku osnovu za karakter ili otkriva nešto suštinsko što ranije niste uočili?

Ako je dizajner kostima genije kao što je slučaj sa Demnom, veoma mi pomaže! Zna me godinama i dobro me razume. Nikada se ne bih usudila da izađem na scenu u tim radikalnim kostimima, a da nije s njegovom pomoći. On mi daje nešto jedinstveno. Ono što on smisli ne može biti rekreirano od strane nekog drugog, samo te može dodatno nadahnuti. Duboko sam mu zahvalna zbog te slobode.

Kao rediteljka, da li svesno projektujete delove sebe u ženske likove koje kreirate, ili težite potpunoj objektivnosti? Gde je granica između autentičnosti i autobiografskog?

Ne postoji linija i ako postoji to samo znači da uloga nije bila dovoljno uverljiva. Ne želim da tumačim doslovno ni sebe, a niti da nekog kopiram. Uvek se trudim da zamislim osobu, kreiranu na osnovu stvarnih ljudi, snova i da tako izmislim nekog potpuno novog. To je najteži deo ovog zanata – ne dosaditi sebi samom, kao ni da umoriš publiku repeticijama i ponavljanjem. Vrlo je to težak poduhvat.

Vaša pojava postala je simbol određene estetike — da li vam je teško da održite ravnotežu između ličnog identiteta i onoga kako vas vidi javnost?

Teško je konstantno biti simbol nečega, ali srećom po mene ja to ne moram da budem. Nisam javna osoba. Živim u Parizu, šetam se u baletankama po Bulonjskoj šumi, pijem kafu po kafeima, žurim na probe sa torbama punim kostima i scenarija. Transformacija se samo dešava na filmu ili u pozorištu. Trenutno, jednom nedeljno, postajem Marguerite Lescaut, filmska zvezda u potrazi za novom ljubavi i novom ulogom.

English here:

Balenciaga’s 51st Haute Couture Collection was as memorable for its dramatic, handcrafted creations as it was for the selection of models and individuals who presented the garments. From Dua Lipa and Nicole Kidman to Naomi Campbell, Demna Gvasalia masterfully curated a cast of divas who immortalized the moment.

In a midi-length dress adorned with feather-like motifs that resembled sharp quills, one woman stood out as impossible to ignore. With makeup reminiscent of Marlene Dietrich in the 1930s, she captivated with a beauty that felt long lost. Her name is Renata Litvinova — actress and director — and also the muse of one of today’s most significant and provocative designers.

When Gvasalia describes you as a “living sculpture,” do you see that as recognition of your ability to embody his visions, or as confirmation of a shared aesthetic language that transcends fashion trends?

I like both interpretations. I’m ready to be his muse because, after all, he’s a genius who works with haute couture effortlessly. His aesthetic codes resonate with mine — he breaks rules while still preserving the legacy of a house like Balenciaga. He’s a humanist and a revolutionary, a visionary unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

Is there a garment you see as a physical extension of yourself?

Silk pajamas. I sleep in them, wear them, no matter if it’s hot or cold. They must have long sleeves and be several sizes too big. That was my grandmother’s secret to youth — silk protects the skin from aging. And honestly, it truly works.

“Demna’s aesthetic codes resonate with mine — he breaks the rules,
while at the same time preserving the legacy of a house like Balenciaga.”

Your theatrical makeup feels like a mask — does it offer you creative freedom or serve as a shield from the outside world?

It gives me both. It helps me live both of my lives — the one with the mask and the one without. These are my two polarities: real life and the one I invented. The roles I play are dramatic and theatrical — murderers, madwomen. When I put on makeup, I can kill a man on stage. I’m no longer myself, and I’ll do anything for the role. Makeup is the final step before stepping into character, whether it’s for film or theater.

In your film roles, costume often feels like a co-actor. Can you recall a moment when costume fundamentally changed how you approached a character?

When I wear ordinary clothes, I feel like they create a barrier between me and the role. I always need a touch of oddness, uniqueness — even if it’s just a flaw in the garment. That’s why Demna’s creations suit me so well — they come from real life but also from an imaginary world. They blur the line between reality and magic. It’s like I hear him say, “It’s not crazy enough,” and then he adds a dash of his fashion madness to our grayness.

In your style, there are traces of Soviet avant-garde and Western decadence — do you see that as a dialogue between two traditions, or as something deeply personal?

Russian avant-garde artists from the 1920s had a major influence on the entire creative world — whether it was painting, film, theater, poetry, or literature. As we know, time moves in cycles, and so do its tendencies. There’s a feeling of returning ideas, interpreted anew. The same chaos, the same suffering in the world reappears, echoing inside all of us.

Which film character was the closest to you emotionally, and has any role ever changed the way you see yourself?

My first theater role was one of Anton Chekhov’s great heroines — Lyubov Ranevskaya in The Cherry Orchard. Like me, she leaves Russia and moves to Paris. She’s always in love, and for her, love is above everything. I played her at 33, and that role changed my life. I started working both in film and theater, wrote several plays, and produced them at the Moscow Art Theatre. In Paris, I did two more productions at Théâtre Hébertot, and I’m lucky to now tour the world with colleagues and kindred spirits.

“When I wear ordinary clothes, I feel like they create a barrier between me and the role. I always miss a touch of strangeness, uniqueness — even if it’s just a flaw in the garment.”

Is there a role you would approach differently today, considering your artistic and personal growth? What would you change?

I’ve turned down many good roles from great directors because I’ve never felt like just an actress. I’ve always wanted to work for myself — to write for myself, and to act in films I imagined on my own. I don’t regret a single role I did or didn’t play. As the heroine I’m playing in Paris theater says: You don’t need many great roles. You just need one — but a truly great one.

How does costume help you “step into the skin” of a character — does it give you a physical foundation for the role, or reveal something essential you hadn’t noticed before?

If the costume designer is a genius — like Demna — it helps me immensely! He’s known me for years and understands me well. I’d never dare to step on stage in such radical costumes without his guidance. He gives me something unique. What he creates can’t be replicated — it can only inspire you further. I’m deeply grateful to him for that freedom.

As a director, do you consciously project parts of yourself into the female characters you create, or do you aim for complete objectivity? Where is the line between authenticity and autobiography?

There is no line — and if there is, that only means the role wasn’t convincing enough. I don’t want to portray myself literally, nor copy anyone else. I always try to imagine a person — drawn from real people, dreams — and create someone entirely new. That’s the hardest part of this craft: not to bore yourself, nor the audience, with repetition. It’s a very difficult undertaking.

Your image has become symbolic of a certain aesthetic — is it difficult to maintain the balance between your personal identity and how the public perceives you?

It’s hard to constantly be a symbol of something, but fortunately for me — I don’t have to be. I’m not a public person. I live in Paris, walk around the Bois de Boulogne in ballet flats, drink coffee in cafés, and rush to rehearsals with bags full of costumes and scripts. The transformation only happens on screen or on stage. Right now, once a week, I become Marguerite Lescaut — a movie star in search of new love and a new role.

Tim:

Fotografije i stajling: VIKTOR DANILOV
Razgovarao: MARKO MRKAJA
Art direkcija: NICOLO BERETTA
Šminka: IRINA GRISHINA
Frizura: SEVIL TAI
Asistent stiliste: MICHELE SCARAFIOTTI;
Lokacija: LAPEROUSE