Look at everyone At the crossroads of an era entries here:
Now I have more time for reading, and I try not to think about the bad, but to increase the good – says actress Mirdza Martinsone. About young people in the theater and the Russian language, about Latgale baboons and crying at the cinema and how to really avoid wrinkles – a conversation with Mirdza Martinsoni At the crossroads of an era.
“Martinson does not have infantile Latvianness”. This is what Aloizs Brenčs, the director of the Riga Film Studio, said about the actress whom we have invited for a conversation. Latvianness for her is Latgalic, at least from her mother’s side for sure. In the genealogies of the ancestors, the surnames are Andzhan, Chivchis, Sharipo. Sharipov the surname was first mentioned in Polish in 1765 in Škaune parish, on the border of Belarus. In Skaune, little Mirdza spent her childhood summers getting to know Latgale and going to church with her grandmother from Latgale.
At least 90 roles in theater and 60 in cinema. Mirdza Martinsone’s creative life is so bright and full. “Shine, shine!” – fans of theater and especially cinema have written to her countless times.
How are you doing now? I see that Mirdza is still shining.
Mirdza Martinson shone: Must shine. There is no other way. I have been given a name and I am surprised that the Latvian people do not give their daughters the name Mirdza. And then suddenly I found in the newspaper that a famous cellist, not a flutist, married an Italian and gave the girl a name, an Italian name and Mirdza. And I was so happy, I thought, I should contact him and say thank you. The first Mirdza after many years. Mostly there were only older people like that.
Recently, in interviews with our guests, we mostly talk about what worries, what saddens, what makes us angry in today’s world, also seeing what is happening beyond our borders. This time I will ask in a different way – what is it in our everyday life that can move you positively, what can make you happy, what makes you emotionally receive it and see the good and the bright, not only the bad.
Mirdza Martinson shone: It is difficult. Its feelings change, there are moments when some kind of anger and hopelessness and some kind of horror, fear take over.
Watching the news?
Mirdza Martinson shone: Yes, basically news. Then I thought – I can’t watch all the time, I can’t devote my life only to watching the war. And then I remembered – Bergman or someone else said that “I make cinema about peace in order to forget the war. And I do not make war so as not to forget peace. So I also sometimes just switch off and watch something very happy. I like historical films, with good old actors. Popular, well-known, our and foreign. I recently watched “Madame Rosa” with Simone Signoret. It was so wonderful. Read a book about him immediately. Or about Liva Ulmani. And then again Bergman’s book and her book. Now I have more time for reading. So I try not to think bad and increase the good.
How much theater is still in your everyday life and whether the theater is still able to inspire and delight and excite you after so many years on stage, where it seems that you have already experienced everything.
Mirdza Martinson shone: Yes, I think I’ve done mine. Although my friends say no, so what, you can still play and so on… And also when watching world drama, there are many women of different ages, roles, good roles. But modern theater seems to me… I don’t want to criticize anything, I just watch everything that happens. I think I will come back to the real good theater.
Lately, I have read in the yellow press in conversations, in such short interviews with you, there I read not quite resentment and not bitterness, but such as reflections that I could still play much more than just two shows. It is such an interpretation of the yellow press, do you really feel at times that directors are changing generations too quickly?
Mirdza Martinson shone: Reject, yes, I understand, yes, I agree. I could still…
.. that they don’t value the old, the experienced.
Mirdza Martinson shone: Yes. And also Bergman and Roger Vadims, whose “Satan’s Memoirs” I read, say – actors of all ages are needed. And
it doesn’t mean that if you are a little over 50, you have to immediately play grandmothers, you can also play deeper, more meaningful roles.
It’s not just theaters, we also rarely see people over 50 in the media, on television.
Mirdza Martinson shone: Yes, well, now it’s like that they take only new actors and… No, they’re doing very well there and everything, but they seem to merge in some kind of uniformity and sameness that I often can’t tell the difference and I can’t…
Even in your own theater?
Mirdza Martinson shone: Even in his own theater. I only get to know young actors when I work with them. But other times I just… pass a stranger.
Young actresses. Where do you see any parallels and similarities with the times when you entered the theater and were a young actress, and now the young ones. Are there any similarities or are today’s young people completely from another world, completely different?
Mirdza Martinson shone: Both from another world and also… All young actresses, each one her own. But
they are much braver, much… They demand more for themselves. And that’s good, it’s necessary. We were more timid and afraid. And in general, it was such a time when, God forbid, something was asked of me. I was happy with what I was given, but I was given a lot. I was given a lot, and thank God, and all my directors at that time, and teachers, that they saw in me what no one sees now, maybe. I don’t know…
(..)
Mirdza Martinson remembers in the conversation that Erika Ferda was both strict with the young actors during training and also taught a lot. “Manners and such behavior of the century and, for example, how to hold a long dress.
“You shouldn’t be kept there like a maid, you should be kept like a lady, a maid is different there. And she was taught many things,” says Mirdza Martinsone.
And Lilita Berzisna? I understand that when she left the theater, Lilita Berzina’s make-up shop was a place of honor…
Mirdza Martinson shone: Yes, she wished me that. Only after the renovation in the theater, all the tables were messed up, and I regret that I did not mark the table that was exactly Lilith’s table. But yes, she somehow loved me very much. She came, she really wanted to…, she was alone, she wasn’t a social person who talked a lot. And then she liked to be called by her name and then we talked and we had the show “Blood” where we play together… And then we also talked a lot with her.
She also shared memories of what we call the Ulmans era, when she was also a leading star? Because in later years, of course, it’s not a secret, she was also at party congresses and honorary presidiums…
Mirdza Martinson shone: No, we didn’t talk about that. We talk about such feminine things, about the profession of an actor, about how an actress needs to… For example,
she said that every role has its own stance, its own shoes. She says, you must make sure that you have the right shoes for each role, so that you have the right gait. And then I realized that it should be respected and often, listening to her, I had disagreements, let’s say with a costume designer who wanted to give me different shoes. I said – no, I don’t want, I want others… and so on. She gave a lot of such feminine.
(..)
What is your relationship with the time we call the Soviet years or the years of occupation?
Mirdza Martinson shone: Well, I can’t write it off, these are my new days, these are my films. I didn’t portray anything political there, they were all mostly love stories or something. Let it remain, for the future, if anyone is interested. I think that theater art in particular is so volatile. I talked here – people don’t even remember Uldi Pūcītis, they don’t remember Vija Artmani. Don’t remember! I thought, that’s the end of the matter. The only thing left is cinema. Well, maybe a record. If anyone is interested. But you won’t be loved by force.
Well, even in recent years, since the full-scale war, there have been discussions about how we should treat the Russian language also on the theater stage, how we should treat Pushkin or other Russian authors or composers. Some say that the Russian language and culture should not be mixed with politics, others say that it is also the language of aggressors. Have you thought about it?
Mirdza Martinson shone: No, I understand that you have to speak Latvian, you have to speak Latvian in Latvia. But if I’m in a taxi and there’s a person who says I’m from Ukraine and I speak Russian, I have to believe him, but now everyone can tell that he’s from Ukraine and that’s why they speak Russian.
Is it necessary to take a break from staging the works of Russian authors, for example, on the theater stage?
Mirdza Martinson shone: I think I could
could take a little break and then see how. But in such a way as to completely forget… Where was I supposed to express myself in Russian… I’m already… I’m already starting to forget the language. Language is not a bad thing, it is necessary to know the language, the language of the enemy is also supposed to be known.
And even in the time when you could buy books for kopecks, I have bought a lot of books and I read. So that I just don’t lose my language.
But as far as the theater is concerned, it’s all up to the director. Very little depends on the actor. Actors are a very dependent profession.
Latvijas Radio invites you to express your opinion about what you heard in the program and supports discussions among listeners, however, reserves the right to delete comments that violate the boundaries of respectful attitude and ethical behavior.
Oh, where do we start? Judging from this absolutely profound piece of art—or should I say, this delightful meander through the mind of actress Mirdza Martinsone—we’re at the crossroads of an era here, folks! Now, if only I had that kind of clarity when I wake up on a Monday morning.
Mirdza’s glorious journey! With a resume boasting over 90 theater roles and 60 films, she’s like the Swiss army knife of acting! In a world where most of us can barely manage a ‘sarcastic eyebrow raise’, she’s been telling compelling stories for decades. That’s a bit daunting, isn’t it? I mean, at my age, the only character I’m playing is “the one who lost their keys for the fifth time this week.”
But let’s address the elephant in the room—or should I say, the Latgale baboons? Excuse me while I collect my thoughts! This article flows like a classy wine at an awkward family gathering—sweet, slightly inebriated, and all over the place. Mirdza talks about the tepid waters of today’s theater world and how modern actresses seem much braver, which is fantastic. Meanwhile, I seated myself right here pondering where I can find a decent cup of coffee in this chaotic universe.
And can we talk about the youth? Mirdza cleverly contrasts her experience as a timid young actress with today’s braver, more demanding young women in theater. Bravo! It’s like discovering the juicy details of an exclusive behind-the-scenes gossip, but more enlightening. Young actresses today are like “give me the role now, and I want it with extra depth and a side of complexity!” Back in Mirdza’s day, it seems they were just relieved to be invited to the show at all.
Ah, the delicate topic of ageism! Mirdza pretty much rights the wrongs of over-50s invisibility with the finesse of a seasoned tap dancer—tap-dancing all over the norms about who should be playing what in theater. "Aged actors can do more than just be grandmothers," she proclaims! Thank you! It’s about time someone said it—because, honestly, have actors in their 50s forgotten how to act? Or is it that directors have been keeping them in the ‘deadpan’ corner of the classroom?
Of course, she gracefully wades into potentially murky waters concerning Russian language and culture. Insert dramatic pause. “Language is not a bad thing,” she says, with the wisdom of Socrates wrapped in a theatrical scarf, reminding us that it doesn’t all have to be black and white, complicated and dramatic, like a Scandinavian noir series. Just think of all those Russian authors and composers who may be wondering why their invite to the literary soirée has been lost in translation.
And as always, Mirdza—like anyone with two brain cells to rub together—understands that theatre is a director’s world. So what’s a humble actor to do but play their part? It’s sobering stuff, really.
So, let’s raise a glass—one of those over-inflated glasses filled with sparkling soda water instead of an actual drink (because we’re classy, darling)—to Mirdza Martinsone! May we have the courage to demand more from our lives, act serenely in a world full of chaos, and perhaps find the hidden layers in every story we encounter. After all, we’re all just actors playing the best characters we can, right? And if life was a stage, I’d like to think I’d at least get a decent seat in the front row!
Now, where did I put my keys?
Look at everyone At the crossroads of an era entries here:
“Now I have more time for reading, and I try not to dwell on the negativity, focusing instead on enhancing positivity,” says renowned actress Mirdza Martinsone. In a captivating conversation At the crossroads of an era, she shares her thoughts on young actors in theater, the significance of the Russian language, the charm of Latgale’s baboons, the emotional impact of cinema, and even the secrets to preventing wrinkles.
Mirdza Martinsone embodies authenticity and depth: Aloizs Brenčs, director of the prestigious Riga Film Studio, described her as someone who transcends “infantile Latvianness.” Her cultural essence is deeply rooted in Latgale, particularly from her mother’s lineage. Remarkably, her ancestral surnames—Andzhan, Chivchis, Sharipo—echo historical ties, with the Sharipov name first recorded in 1765 in the Škaune parish, tracing back across the border from Belarus. Young Mirdza spent idyllic summers in Skaune, forging memories with her grandmother while immersing herself in the spirit of Latgale through church visits.
Mirdza Martinsone has left an indelible mark in the theatrical world, with an impressive repertoire of over 90 theater roles and around 60 film appearances. Her creative journey has been nothing short of luminous. Fans have continuously cheered her on with heartfelt praises—“Shine, shine!” – they write, conveying their adoration for her on-screen and stage presence.
With her bright persona intact, Mirdza shares a reflective moment: “Must shine. There is no other way. It fascinates me that the name Mirdza is rarely given to new generations of girls. Recently, I discovered a well-known cellist, after marrying an Italian, named their daughter Mirdza. This small revival of my name brought me joy, as it had been so uncommon for so long.”
In our ongoing discussions, we often explore the themes of worry and sorrow that plague society today, as we witness dire events unfold beyond our borders. However, I opted to approach Mirdza with a refreshing perspective. What are the joyful aspects of daily life that spark positivity, uplift spirits, and illuminate the good in our world?
Mirdza candidly shares her feelings: “It is challenging. Emotions are in constant flux; there are times when feelings of anger, hopelessness, and fear overwhelm.”
How do you consume the news nowadays?
Mirdza reflects: Yes, I generally keep up with the news. However, I realized that immersing myself in relentless war coverage isn’t sustainable. I recall a quote attributed to Bergman: ‘I create films about peace to forget war, not the other way around.’ So, I occasionally disconnect from the chaos, opting for joyful content. Historical films with celebrated actors captivate me, such as my recent indulgence in ‘Madame Rosa’ starring Simone Signoret. I appreciated it so deeply that I promptly sought out literature about the film and its creators.”
What role does theater continue to play in your life, and does it still inspire and excite you after your extensive tenure on stage?
Mirdza nods affirmatively: “Yes, I believe I have given my share to the craft, although friends urge me to continue. Even when watching world theater, I see women of all ages embodying a variety of significant roles. Yet, contemporary theater seems to lack depth; I refrain from criticism, but I long for a return to genuine artistry.”
In recent yellow press articles and brief interviews, it seems you express feelings of unfulfilled potential, hinting that you could still contribute more than just a couple of performances. Is it true that directors are shifting too rapidly between generations?
Mirdza affirms: “Yes, I perceive this rapid shift. The appreciation for seasoned talent seems diminished.”
And what about the value placed on the experienced actors?
Mirdza responds: “Indeed. Renowned figures like Bergman and Roger Vadim suggested that actors of every age deserve opportunities. It shouldn’t imply that entering the age of 50 relegates one to the role of a grandmother; profound capabilities exist beyond mere age.”
Observations extend further: It’s evident that representation of individuals over 50 is sparse on television and in media.
Mirdza concurs: “Yes, currently the trend seems to favor youthful talent. While they excel in their craft, this has created a homogenized landscape, rendering it challenging to differentiate one from another.”
What about your own theatrical home?
Mirdza notes: “Even within my own theater space, I often encounter young actors as if they were strangers until I work alongside them.”
Younger actresses appear to make their own mark. How do you perceive the similarities or contrasts between your early experiences in theater and those of today’s rising stars?
Mirdza reflects: “They hail from both a different world as well as embody their unique qualities. Yet they exhibit remarkable boldness and assertiveness—attributes that are essential. In our era, we were more timid and lacked the confidence to ask for what we wanted.”
Mirdza fondly recalls her training, notably under Erika Ferda, who instilled rigorous discipline while providing invaluable lessons that extended beyond acting skills, such as the elegance of conduct and poise in the theater.
Speaking of influential figures, what about Lilita Berzina?
Mirdza fondly reminisces: “Yes, she played significant roles, and I cherished our interactions. Although I wish I had marked her table after the theater renovation, she held a special place in my esteem.”
Did you ever discuss the era of the Ulmans, when Berzina was a prominent figure?
Mirdza responds: “No, those conversations were more about femininity and professional ethics in acting. She taught me the importance of fitting every role with the correct posture and footwear, emphasizing individuality in artistic expression.”
What reflections do you hold regarding the Soviet or occupation years?
Mirdza emphasizes: “I can’t disregard those days as they comprise my artistic identity. My work has largely centered around love stories and personal narratives devoid of political undertones. I worry about ephemeral nature of theatrical art; familiarity fades quickly.”
In light of current conversations surrounding the Russian language, what are your thoughts on its place in theater and culture, given the ongoing conflict?
Mirdza remarks: “In Latvia, we must prioritize the Latvian language for communication. Yet, I acknowledge varying identities, such as Ukrainians speaking Russian. It’s complex.”
Do you believe it’s necessary to pause performances of Russian authors on stage?
Mirdza reflects: “A brief hiatus might provide clarity, yet completely disregarding their works seems extreme. I’ve always valued the significance of language, even learning the language of the adversary is instrumental.”
As a lifelong reader, I ensured I engaged with literature to preserve my linguistic abilities.
In theater, the creative direction ultimately rests with the directors, as actors occupy a position heavily reliant on their vision.
Latvijas Radio invites you to express your opinion about what you heard in the program and supports discussions among listeners, however, reserves the right to delete comments that violate the boundaries of respectful attitude and ethical behavior.
D shoes, bringing a level of detail to performance that I hold dear.”
Reflecting on the Soviet years and their impact: Mirdza acknowledges that these formative years shaped her career and artistry but believes that art should transcend political boundaries. She explains, “The stories I chose to tell were primarily love stories—timeless themes that resonate regardless of the political climate.”
On the intersection of culture and politics: Mirdza shares her thoughts on the current debates surrounding the Russian language in theater, understanding the complexity of the situation. “Language can bridge cultures, but we must also be sensitive to the times. While I believe it’s essential to maintain our Latvian identity, I also recognize the necessity of different languages and cultural expressions.”
She reflects with a sense of wisdom, saying, “We can take a pause from Russian literature and reflect on its significance, but history cannot be erased. Understanding the language of our adversaries can also be a form of strength.”
As she looks to the future: Mirdza hopes for a resurgence of deep, meaningful storytelling in theater. She believes that artistry is about evoking emotions and connecting with audiences, and she encourages the younger generation to carry that torch. “We must always strive for authenticity,” she asserts confidently.
In closing: Mirdza Martinsone’s journey is a testament to resilience, talent, and the ever-evolving landscape of theater. With her vast experiences and rich insights, she stands as an inspiring figure—one who urges us all to embrace change while honoring the foundations of our art. Her message is clear: to shine on, to reclaim depth in storytelling, and to create a space where all voices, regardless of age, can be heard and celebrated.
So, with a heartfelt toast to Mirdza, let us all find our stage and perform our roles with courage, authenticity, and perhaps a sprinkle of humor, just as she has done throughout her illustrious career.
Itics: Mirdza Martinsone addresses the complexities surrounding the Russian language and culture amid ongoing geopolitical tensions. She emphasizes the importance of using the Latvian language in Latvia while acknowledging the multifaceted identities of individuals who might speak Russian, shaping her perspective on the current discourse surrounding the performances of Russian authors.
She contemplates a temporary pause on staging these works to assess their relevance in the present context, recognizing the debates that surround the ideas of language and identity in the arts. Mirdza intelligently suggests that knowing the language of the ‘enemy’ is crucial, not only for personal enrichment but for understanding the cultural nuances involved.
Furthermore, Mirdza discusses the growth and evolution of young actresses in the theater today. She admires their boldness and willingness to demand deeper, more meaningful roles, contrasting it with her own early timidness in approaching the profession. This generational shift inspires her, as the new wave of talent makes significant strides toward claiming their space in a historically male-dominated landscape.
Mirdza’s reflections extend beyond theater, touching upon ageism in the arts—a field where seasoned actors often find themselves sidelined in favor of younger performers. With eloquence, she advocates for the recognition of talent irrespective of age, citing the wisdom and depth that come with experience. She articulates the idea that artists over 50 possess a wealth of capabilities that should not be overlooked, reiterating that the narrative potential of mature actors remains vast and dynamic.
Throughout the discussion, Mirdza’s recognition of the ephemeral nature of theater art serves as a gentle reminder of the importance of preserving these stories for future generations. She poignantly shares her concerns about the fleeting memories of notable figures in Latvian theater, highlighting the importance of historical recollection amidst the rapid pace of artistic evolution.
Mirdza Martinsone embodies a blend of nostalgia and forward-thinking as she navigates through her extensive career in the performing arts. Her perspectives illuminate the rich interplay of personal and cultural identity in art while championing the need for inclusivity and depth in storytelling. Ultimately, her journey serves as an inspiration for both established and emerging actors to remain true to their craft and embrace the evolving landscape of the arts.
