I mentioned before that I enjoy researching Zelenskyy in part because of his former career in comedy. Though there has been a learning curve when it comes to language and popular references, I’ve found that it’s worthwhile to try to understand the jokes. Of course, my perspective is rooted in my own North American upbringing, so while I can’t claim to be any sort of expert on Eastern European culture, I will continue to learn as much as I can.
Most people are at least aware of Zelenskyy’s role in the show Servant of the People, but one of the other performances I see pretty much everywhere I go on the internet is the infamous piano sketch без штанов (without pants). Sometimes it’s used as a compliment and other times it’s meant as an insult. Either way, the commentary is almost always focusing on the same obvious detail. That isn’t enough context for me, so I decided to put my research skills to the test and find out more.
The most commonly-shared version of the sketch is from a July 2016 festival that was held in Latvia. However, Kvartal 95 had been doing this sketch since at least 2010. During Zelenskyy’s presidential campaign, his opposition tried to create a scandal by pointing out that the idea of men playing piano with their pants down (with some of the same tunes) was not original. The routine had appeared on an American variety show in the late 1990s and was replicated several times in various countries over the years. Considering the fact that much of Kvartal 95’s work has been a parody, homage, or something repurposed in their own Ukrainian style, this isn’t a big shock.
The early versions of the Kvartal 95 sketch feature a wobbly prop piano – one that seems like it might fall apart if handled too roughly. The act always starts with the same two people, Zelenskyy and Yuriy Krapov. They “play” a couple of tunes, and then it veers off into Kvartal 95’s own interpretation of the idea: turning a duet into a quartet. Yuriy "Yuzik" Koryavchenkov walks out with a variable fourth guest, usually a visiting celebrity.
In the 2016 edition, Zelenskyy and Krapov walk on stage to a much nicer, more realistic-looking piano. They drop their pants, raise their arms, and do a rendition of “Chopsticks.” The next tune is “Habanera,” then Zelenskyy “tickles the ivories” in a vigorous solo. Right after Krapov nimbly flips a page without using his hands, the other members of the group are announced. This time it’s Yuzik and Oleksiy Potapenko, better known as the musician Potap. Yuzik slides out an extension on the piano so that all four can fit, and the two newcomers are prompted into adhering to the dress code. During the next song, all is going well until Potap suddenly can’t perform, but Yuzik quickly solves the problem. The final song is “Hava Nagila” with a flourish at the end by Zelenskyy.
That’s all it is, but I like it for its simplicity. There’s not much dialogue, which makes it easier for those of us who don’t speak the language. It highlights one of the things that Kvartal 95 does best – pure physical comedy. It’s not the sort of humor I would typically enjoy, and yet this one makes me laugh every time. They push the absurdity enough to make it more about their delivery rather than the premise of the sketch.
In the 90s version, the original duo play it fairly straightforwardly, and the only punchline is that it’s two guys “playing” a piano with their genitals. All they do is hop up and down in time to the songs; they don’t even talk to each other. Kvartal 95 gives it their signature Ukrainian flair and energy. It’s not funny because of what they’re supposedly using to make music, it’s funny because of the dynamic between the characters and because of the way Zelenskyy uses his entire body to pretend to play a simple piano tune. It’s clear that they are all having fun with it, and that is perhaps the best part.
I’ve already seen two mentions of the piano sketch on social media today. So often, the observations, including the ones of approval, tend to reduce it to: “Look at this guy.” Okay, yes. Look, and see how much more is actually there.