The curtain has fallen on the life of Alexey Veselkin, a man whose voice and presence once painted the airwaves with mischief and warmth. Like a seasoned marionettist who’d mastered the strings of both theater and television, Veselkin left an indelible mark—before exiting stage left at 63.
Born in Moscow in 1961, Veselkin was no mere performer; he was a cultural alchemist, turning scripts into gold. Fresh out of the Shchukin Theatre School, he joined the Russian Academic Youth Theatre (RAMT) in 1983, where he became a fixture—part pillar, part poltergeist—for 42 years. Nearly 60 roles later, his repertoire sprawled like a well-thumbed playbook of human emotion.
Yet it was television that flung him into living rooms across the nation. Shows like "Up to 16 and Older" and "King of the Hill" became his playgrounds, where he wielded wit like a fencing foil—sharp, playful, never drawing blood. Radio waves, too, bent to his baritone, carrying his laughter through static and silence.
On March 26, Veselkin’s heart—a metronome that had kept time for so many performances—finally stilled in his apartment on Pyatnitskoye Highway. RAMT’s announcement was a thunderclap wrapped in velvet: "An irreplaceable loss". No cause was given, though whispers suggest a years-long dance with illness.
Fittingly, the man who made careers of holding mirrors to society left without a final bow. Details of memorials remain pending, but the stage he built—for actors, audiences, and awkward teens tuning into his shows—will outlast him.
Veselkin’s exit, like all great performances, leaves us leaning forward in our seats—waiting for an encore that won’t come. The house lights are up. The applause, this time, is ours to give.
