Mumming

In the dramaturgy of masking, much is tied to a specific effect: the unrecognizability of the masked figure (in this, they are very similar to the folkloric inhabitants of the "otherworld").

Unrecognizability in the performance was intensified by specific methods: it could be an unusual manner of speaking or complete silence on the part of the masked person, an exaggerated gait, or a choreographed routine for the role.

As a rule, the masked figures delivered their lines in sharp, squeaky voices, spoke in a "holy" or "masked-folk" style, or placed a comb or button in their mouths to ensure they did not sing in their own voices.

They wore gloves on their hands, and their costumes consisted of garments that one would not see in everyday life.

It is very easy to attribute all this to a game, but the peculiar feature of masking is that this is not merely a performance technique: here, the non-performance motivations behind such behavioral details keep shining through.

Unrecognizability is a trait of the masked figures that provokes fear in those who are not masked.

Of course, what was initially motivated mythologically—by the masked figures' belonging to the otherworldly and impure realm—was also additionally played upon by the participants in the performances.

The game heightened spectator curiosity and an impatient desire to find out who was hiding under the mask.

Sometimes, real battles unfolded between the two sides of participants—prolonged debates filled with jokes and laughter: "...the old people are delighted... they approach each of the masked ones, looking them in the eyes to find out who they are; having recognized them, they ask their acquaintances to sing"; "- But I know who you are! - one of the boys said to a masked person. - And if you say it, I'll tear your ears off! - came the reply"; "The unmasked youth try to figure out who the masked ones are, if only by their clothes, voice, or gait, though this is difficult... But then, when the masked ones get tired of hiding, they reveal themselves."

It is interesting that perhaps the greatest effect of unrecognizability characterizes visually neutral masks: they have no specific name, they are essentially nameless, and by their appearance, it is difficult to unambiguously relate them to any definite image.

This tradition itself is, of course, deeply ritualistic; it is, in a way, an attempt to recreate a spectacle in ritual, a picture of the "otherworld."

At the same time, the masked figures imitate a long distance that they have supposedly traveled on their way to the host's house.

By referring to the hardships of the journey, they often also justify their demand for treats. Much in their indistinct image and behavior is designed for a terrifying effect.

Although their appearance is somewhat amorphous, two characteristics are mandatory for it: everything about these characters must create an impression of the funny bordering on the frightening (or vice versa).

In general, there are many characters in the Russian tradition of masking who seem stripped of any "personality," masks that appear to lack an individually distinct appearance: they may wear an inside-out fur coat or some absurd clothing and gauze over the entire face, sometimes painted, with slits cut out for the eyes.

There are even entire regions where this very type of masked figure is the dominant one.

Even if, at a superficial glance, it does not create any concrete image, it nonetheless concentrates within itself the general nature of masking as a demonological world.

The image created in this case is not truly named by tradition—it is, so to speak, "described" within it in the language of the game: it is tabooed just as the names of many phenomena and creatures are tabooed in popular usage.

Larisa Ivleva

Photo: Folk po-GOST