Georgy Taratorkin: A Soviet Icon's Story
Despite working three jobs and earning a modest salary, Georgy's mother always set aside money so he and his sister could go to the theater. Whenever she could spare a little more, she moved them closer and closer to the stage.
Today, we know Georgy Taratorkin as a successful actor, but his first dream was to become a teacher. As he grew older, however, his early love for the theater drew him toward a different path. A gifted artist, he initially hoped to join his beloved theater as a set painter—but unfortunately, there were no openings for painters at the time. After finishing high school, he followed a common path in the Soviet Union and enrolled in a trade school, where he trained as an electrician. As fate would have it, the Leningrad TUZ Theater was in need of electricians, and he secured a position there—marking the beginning of his journey on the stage.
Young Taratorkin at the TUZ
One of Georgy’s first tasks in his new role was to help change the stage backdrops between scenes—requiring him to dash out in the dark and shift the scenery swiftly and silently. Eager to make a good impression, Taratorkin took the job very seriously. The night before his debut, he asked his mother to carefully iron his best, brightest white dress shirt. But during his first shift, as he rushed onto the stage, a furious voice suddenly echoed through the theater. It was the director, Zinovy Korogodsky, shouting, “What kind of an idiot came out on stage in a white shirt?! It’s glowing like a bright stain!”
While many might have felt embarrassed, Taratorkin found himself unexpectedly thrilled by the experience—he realized he enjoyed being on stage and wanted to become an actor. One day, as he stood in a hallway, director Zinovy Korogodsky passed by and casually asked if he had forgotten to bring his documents to apply to the acting school. The phrasing stuck with Georgy. He was shy—almost monstrously so—but also deeply responsible. If Korogodsky believed he had forgotten, then he must have meant to do it. So the next time he returned to the theater, he brought his papers and submitted his application.
Taratorkin while working for the Leningrad TUZ
Despite his growing interest in the stage, Taratorkin wasn’t fully prepared for the entrance exams. All he could manage was one line from memory and an improvised Russian folk dance he had only ever seen on television. It was a far cry from polished, but it was earnest. Korogodsky, impressed by something in him, told the committee he would take Georgy. One skeptical voice in the room questioned, “Why do you need this?”—referring to the lanky, awkward young man in front of them. But Korogodsky saw what others didn’t yet see.
Georgy Taratorkin at the end of "После казни прошу"
When his teacher—who was also a close family friend—found out, she held him in the corner, propped up against the wall and explained to him that what he was doing was stupid because they’d take him, he is long and sassy after all, and he’ll go study acting but then what?But Georgy didn’t waver. Despite the doubts and warnings, he followed his instincts—and that one bold step into the unknown changed the course of his life. From those early days of running scenery in a glowing white shirt to becoming a celebrated figure of the Russian stage, Taratorkin’s journey began with a spark of passion, a touch of courage, and a mother’s unwavering support
Tags: @prvi-i-poslednji-vrana
