DONETSK, Ukraine — The persistent shelling was barely audible through the thick stone walls of the Donetsk National Academic Opera and Ballet Theater. It might have been nothing more than a rickety tram bouncing along Artem Street.
But there was one moment, as Sylva made her grand entrance in the matinee performance of Emmerich Kalman’s “Gypsy Princess” last weekend, that a solid blast caused the sturdy floors to shiver, ever so slightly, like God’s own timpani.
“In the theater, there is a rule that, even in war, performances should continue,” said Andrey Kornienko, the opera’s advertising director. “It is our duty is to do our job, to support the people emotionally, to bring them art.”
In an unseasonably warm February, the snow has disappeared from the parks and rutted boulevards of Donetsk, but the fighting between the pro-Russian rebels who control the region and the Ukrainian military on the city’s outskirts — north, west and south — is never far from mind. Just on Wednesday, five people died under an artillery barrage that also damaged a hospital, six schools and five kindergartens, local officials said.
People die almost daily from the shelling. Most of the streetlights are either out in the evenings or flicker in a kind of half-life, while whole stretches of apartment blocks are dark as tombs. Water pressure is unsteady.
Somehow, though, cultural and commercial life goes on.
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Before the war, the chorus had 75 performers. Now it is under 30. One-third of them have fled the city, including the most popular singers. All four conductors have fled, too, though fortunately several of the musicians can conduct in a pinch. One of the violinists was conducting “Gypsy Princess” that afternoon.
A warehouse containing most of the company’s sets was burned during the fighting over the Donetsk airport last fall. It has enough scenery for only 15 productions now, down from the usual 30.
“Sometimes we are full, sometimes we have just a few people,” said Mr. Kornienko, the advertising director, as he studied the matinee crowd of 155. “If you are afraid to go to the bus station, you do not go to the opera.”
Backstage before the performance, Roman Belgorodsky, one of the dancers, dressed in a top hat and tails, prepared to go on stage.
“It is hard to keep your mind on the performance because of the conflict,” said Mr. Belgorodsky, 23. “But the explosions are not so loud here, so being here helps me to forget. Then afterwards, though, I must go outside and return to the dark reality.”
