The Music of Communism - Вторая часть
…But, I thought the cold war was over?
Have you ever reached deep into your empty pockets, thought “Ooh, what’s that?”, and then disappointedly pulled out a piece of lint? Well, that’s a bit like this article.
While I adore aspects of communism, and all of the things that have come from it (i.e its music, tales and stories), I don’t want to approach the gluttonous and impish scapegrace that epitomises its political debate; I just don’t have the time and, frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!
I have written about this subject before where I expand on the ‘curtailed’ version of my disregard for the inclusion of the modern political climate. I also introduce a very lovely piece of Russian history to you all, an introduction that I would advise you to listen to before I introduce you to the next – that article can be found here…
Again! While I adore communism in music, some people are vehemently dispassionate about what it represents, which is completely fair in every respect but, for now, just shush…okay?!
The Bold, the brave, and the beautiful.
This article is about two people - Stepan Razin and Leonid Kharitonov.
Stepan Timofeyevich Razin (AKA Stenka Razin), was a Cossack leader who led a major uprising against the nobility and tsarist bureaucracy in southern Russia in 1670-1671.
Leonid Mikhailovich Kharitonov was a Russian bass-baritone singer. He was honoured with People's Artist of Russia and Honoured Artist of Russia. In the West, he was noted for his 1965 video of the Song of the Volga Boatmen.
I don’t want this to feel like an enormous history lesson because, I’m not going to lie, I probably wouldn’t want to read this much either. However, knowing this information will really up the impact of the emotional gravity behind the piece I’m soon to introduce – It will turn those big Red Army meanies into a group of puppies howling at the moon.
The rebel with a cause.
After an event known as the ‘time of troubles’(1598 to 1613), Russia was in flux and caught between a rock and a hard place. Two strong centralizing autocrats (made up of the tsar and another governing body) reigned over the peasantry and, to put it simply, made slaves of everyone – though, they called them ‘serfs’, y’know, because people can’t be slaves if you don’t call them slaves.
Interesting fact: the word ‘serf’, etymologically speaking, is a French proxy of the Latin word ‘servus’, meaning slave – the more you know!
Anyway, the tsar was a protectorate of the Don Cossacks, and their government would pay the Cossacks to keep Russia secure from tyrants – ironic. Invariably, it was the Don Cossacks that came together, much like a merry band of men, under the rebellious command of Robin Hood Stenka Razin. (~1649) They bravely and gallantly tore, pillaged, and plundered the Russian nobility (boyars and wealthy lords) in numerous towns along the Volga River, and gave the power back to the people - he was a 17th Century superhero!
As a side note, in case you didn't know, the Volga River played an immense part in the battle of Stalingrad where it provided a strategic advantage for the Russians.
I may be embellishing him a little, but people did see him as a man possessed with supernatural powers; guardsmen would often join his cause because they despised their leaders, so he would seemingly gain access to these impenetrable fortresses and live up to the mythos of a man undefeatable.
(1667-1671) Razin’s movement had proved successful in many cases, especially among the people; he wanted absolute equality and to root out all boyars and dignitaries throughout Muskovy.
Unfortunately, it was a very unstable revolt; Razin suffered a pyrrhic victory as he was consistently well met in battle by the tsar’s troops and, upon the defamation of his cause by the patriarchy (along with various personal attacks on his character), was later shunned by his own men. He was eventually captured by a Cossack soldier and handed over to the Moscow authorities; they trialled him for his ’crimes’ and kindly relieved him of his arm, leg and head.
Third from the right in the top row.
Leonid Kharitonov (Born 1933), at his peak, was considered the pride of Russia; he sang at concerts for both the government and their foreign delegations. He had a formidable depth to his voice - something I suppose that you would expect from a bass-baritone vocalist. He carved out a career for himself singing for the Red Army and eventually moved onto an independent career working with the Moscow Philharmonic Society.
His career, while being marked as a success in Eastern Europe, struggled to gain any weight in the west as it was heavily overshadowed by the cold war. As I mentioned at the top of this post, the ignorance of some, and their intolerance to certain creeds, had led them to miss out on such a wonderful artist – it’s also pretty hard to hear someone through an iron curtain.
Unfortunately, it was only September of last year (2017) that Leonid passed away at the ripe old age of 84 – a pretty good age for a baby boomer. Only recently has he made his entrance into the western world (though posthumously) via YouTube and the general media. I guess this article will serve as a small epitaph in his honour.
‘A monument to the Russian victorious spirit.’
Well now then, here we are, you have made it; you can now rest your eyes and start to warm up those ears – this is the moment you have all been reading for…
Today’s piece is named Utyos (The Cliff). It was written in memoriam of the 17th-century Russian rebel, Stepan Razin. Its lyrics were created in 1864 by novelist Alexander Alexandrovich Navrotsky and the song later became an anthem for Russian revolutionaries of the late 19th and 20th centuries.
This piece is (by far) one of the most emotionally jarring pieces I have ever listened to (with the exception of My Heart Will Go On from Titanic; that moment where Rose meets Jack at the clock – man, that get’s me every time). You have to comprehend its message, not only for all of the paths leading up to the song's conception but, what it later meant to the men that carried the weight of war and rebellion upon their shoulders; this was an anthem to sum-up all of their darkness, all of their light, and all of their struggles within themselves and as a unified people.
I implore you to find a quiet little nook, tuck yourself away, and have a good old listen to the voice of a nation – also turn on your captions so that you can read the lyrics, silly.
Not a dry eye in the place.
This is Leonid Kharitonov’s first solo performance and what a performance it was. He is quoted:
‘My solo career truly began with a concert in the Kremlin Palace of Congresses on April 22, 1965, dedicated to the 95th anniversary of Lenin, when I sang “There is a cliff on the Volga.”’
He was given a standing ovation and duly praised by many of the dignitaries and political leaders of the time. Upon being met backstage by Marshal Voroshilov, he was told that ‘Stalin would be proud’, and that he sang it better than a previously famed artist known for a recording of the same song - Alexander Pirogov.
What am I hearing?
Pay particular attention to the lyrics, as they are the main event of this piece; they describe the river Volga on which Stepan, ‘a mighty eagle’, made his ‘hideout’ and from there he ‘torments his victims’.
The piece begins with this imposingly deep and lumbering introduction. The Alexandrov Ensemble imbues these first few lines with an astounding mixture of lionhearted gallantness and woebegone melancholy. The brass bears a heavy melody underpinned by balalaikas, domras, bayans and the double bass – these are the most prominent instruments to be heard. However, there is also a full woodwind ensemble hidden below, giving a warmer colour to the stiffness of the strings and the coldness of the brass.
Russian music has a remarkable way of encapsulating a wealth of sadness (with use of minor keys) that is then deepened with ripostes of nobility and virtuosity. – it creates this wonderfully dark atmosphere that has the ability to rattle the spirit and unsettle the heart.
A resounding thump of the bass drum ends the introductory climax with a palpable silence as the orchestra awaits the call of Kharitonov. His first statement bellows effortlessly from him, punctuated by the empty air, as his rich and sonorous voice carries each word within it – ‘There is a cliff on the Volga river.’
The strings section meets him with a quiet tremolo and a soft bass line to underpin the sincerity of his words. The 1:00 mark sees the whole ensemble counter his vocal with a powerful unity; taking what he has said and making it many times greater. Even throughout the choral statement, they dip down to a restrained and pianissimo weeping of the words. You can hear this the most following Kharitonov’s softer ending lyrics at 3:54 as the choir lowers in volume and bears a sweeter countertenor delivery to really tug at those big, red, Russian heartstrings.
Each of Kharitonov’s statements is followed by a choral response of incredible power and profundity, most notably after his 4:37 verse (5:36), a tutti section delivers an impressively sustained A♭4 from the choir, as Kharitonov sits comfortably below. This builds as the last statement made, and ends with a rapturous climax, as all vocals and all instruments carry Kharitonov’s resounding message of the ‘Russian victorious spirit’.
I do not use these words lightly.
This really is one of the best pieces I have ever come across for this style of music. Alexandrov’s arrangements are perfectly balanced and capture the much needed emotional sentiments with a graceful gravitas; a necessity for upholding the spirit of both the men and their listeners - a big hand slap to him. I can’t help but feel the sincerity of their beliefs in this message they must carry so bravely for mother Russia – it is a testament to their spirit, their character, and their ability for unwavering patriotism. No matter the corruption and manipulation of such ‘soldiers of man’, their creed and discipline is something we could all learn from; we should all strive to be better as people and work together as a community…in a none communist way.
Again, I’m not a communist!
Conclusion.
I sincerely hope that this has in some way caught your interest and been a source of inspiration to further seek out this style of music. Remember, if this isn’t for you it isn’t for you, don’t worry, I will be writing about many different types of music, in many different types of posts, in many different types of futures.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, and I will do my best to answer, but for now, you can listen to this - The Definitive Collection of The Red Army Choir.
спасибо, товарищи!
Dan.
Dante is here, No FearHaha, thank you dante! I hope you enjoyed the read.