Ilya Yakyamsev is a man who managed to survive the cynical struggle with everyday life and not lose his taste for the absurd. His concerts are cozy chronicles of how adult life becomes not a stage overcome, but a protracted joke: if the child doesn't yell, the mortgage reminds of itself with calls, and instead of courage - a collection of collective chats about everything and nothing.
Yakyamsev's main skill is to turn everyday life into laughter through his teeth: parenting here is side by side with yoga, which, of course, only saves a muscle under a blanket. His thoughts on Moscow by forty sound like survival instructions if you're in a capsule hostel and all that's left is to maintain decorum and not react to memes about your own imminence.
