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And So, Seven Years Later…

I‘m finally in Moscow, my native city. I’ve just pondered on the power of written goals, and those of you who’ve been reading this blog since 2006 might remember that one of my New Year’s reservations that I first publicised here at the turn of 2006/2007 was to go to my place of birth. Since then the goal has never left the radar but for one reason or another it was being delayed time and again. Maybe I was sharing the goal with the wrong people, I don’t know. The fact is, this year I\ve written down that I would go to Moscow in October, and just as I began to feel that I needed to delay the trip, Fate stepped in, and voila, I’m in Moscow now.

This reminds me of a saying by Jacques Prevert:

Even if happiness forgets about you a little bit, never completely forget about happiness.

Same for goals. Accept setbacks and delays but keep pushing, and one day you will get there. If in doubt, consult me.

I’ve not been out yet really, as the flight turned to be a bit more excruciating than even I expected. I left Manchester on a late warm and sunny afternoon, only to arrive into a typically Mancunian rain over Moscow. After all, I’ve been joking for a few years that my two countries swapped weathers. Upon landing and collecting my luggage, I was greeted by several taxi drivers who offer private services to visitors. Since 1990s taxi has been a strange kind of business: although there are certified companies in Moscow, a lot of work is still carried out by ordinary drivers. The ones at the airport were trading with all the best traits of direct sales technique: broad smile, good eye contact, polite rather than excited tone of voice. Eventually I asked one of them about the terms of trade with the airport. As one would expect, airport has a share in the drivers’ profit.

What has surprised me the most until now is the fact that when I look at my photos I genuinely don’t see much difference between me at 17-20 and now. Perhaps, those who cannot phathom my age (which isn’t 55, anyway!) are right. Yet when I look at my mother, grandma, and dad I see the changes, quite drramatic. Considering that my parents are the mirror in which I look to see myself, I am reminded of Dorian Gray story. But maybe a lot of us are reminded of it when we spend so much time away from those near to us.

A Bad Weather Song

I‘ve already waxed lyrical about different Russian films on this blog, and now here is an opportunity to introduce to you a famous adaptation of the foreign classic – the “Mary Poppins” movie. Based on the books by P. L. Travers, the musical film “Goodbye, Mary Poppins” was produced in 1983 and featured a what you call star-studded performance, complete with a male actor playing a lady. It is adored by generations for all good reasons, but I personally love the music and one particular song about the bad weather.

The film follows in the footsteps of Igor Maslennikov’s recreation of England for his Sherlock Holmes epic, and from the start we see a clean and orderly street showered with endless rain, as it often happens in the UK. Lembit Ulfsak, an Estonian actor, sports a John Lennon look, complete with round glasses and a guitar. The singing voice, however, belongs to Pavel Smeyan, the late actor of Lenkom, one of the leading Russian theatres.
The changes in Nature happen year upon year.
Bad weather, bad weather, bad weather is now in fashion.
As if from the water conduit
The water pours down on us from the sky.
Bad weather is for half of the year,
Half of the year you can go nowhere,
Bad weather is for half of the year,
Half of the year you can go nowhere.
Nowhere, from bad weather we can hide nowhere,
But you cannot postpone life at all.
Nowhere, but remember that somewhere over there
Someone is searching for you in the rain.
The terrible thunderstorm strikes from sunset until sunrise,
Bad weather is the price for people’s sins.
It’s neither a cold nor a flu
But a much more serious trouble…
Bad weather is for half of the year,
Half of the year you can go nowhere,
Bad weather is for half of the year,
Half of the year you can go nowhere.
Nowhere, from bad weather we can hide nowhere,
But you cannot postpone life at all.
Nowhere, but remember that somewhere over there
Someone is searching for you in the rain.

Victory Day 65th Anniversary

65 years ago, in 1945, the Second World War had ended. In Russia and former Soviet republics 9th of May is the national holiday which is always marked by a pompous and majestic parade. As I was growing up in 1980s, I remember there were a few parades during the year, but the one on the Victory Day has always been the most solemn occasion.

Over the weekend I will share with you the photos my father sent me from the general rehearsal of the anniversary parade. As this is the 65th year of the Victory over fascism, the troops from the former allies flew to Moscow to take part. In the photo below you can see British soldiers marching in the Red Square.

The Royal British Legion at the Victory Day
Parade in Moscow, May 2010

My Father, a Photographer

Julia at 18 months…

I posted my dad’s photos previously; on the photo on the right you can see a colour version of the famous triptych where I was posing with his camera, not yet 2 years old. As you may notice, as well, I changed a lot: I used to have blonde hair and blue eyes, mais non plus :-).

Just days ago my dad sent me several photos of the Russian wintery forest, which I would like to share with all of you. Along with what you have seen previously, this is yet another proof that some things do run in the family.

Christmas in Painting: Pavel Filonov

 Although the themes of Adoration and the journey of the Magi seem to be more common in the Western tradition in art, they are by no means alien to the Orthodox tradition, and these two works by the Russian painter Pavel Filonov (1883-1941) are good examples. Since painting on this occasion serves to interpret (i.e. to translate) the Bible, it is interesting to observe how Filonov “domesticates” his translation. On the one hand, he obviously does exactly what European painters did before him, i.e. giving the people on his canvas a distinctly Russian look. Yet on the other hand, he introduces to the Russian painting the new methods and techniques. The same is true about The Magi, which is a watercolour painting featuring the black Balthasar in the foreground. If both paintings, but particularly The Magi, offer a good example of application of the recent methods in Western painting (Futurism, Cubism) to the Russian tradition.

Derek Maus in his article explores how Andrei Bely and Pavel Filonov, the writer and the painter respectively, studied the dimensions of space, time and “strangeness” of things in their works. It seems that the “strangest” thing about Peasant Family is that Filonov had chosen to depict the villagers, not proletarians. This is partly explained by the painter’s personal dislike of the city as the epitome of hustle and bustle. In a way, too, Filonov could merely follow the tradition that depicted the holy family in the “bucolic”, and not urban, environment. But one can also agree with Maus that “widespread socio-political sympathy for the plight of the Russian peasantry as, minimally, an image of the rural proletariat, made it possible for Filonov to use this visual allegory to glorify, perhaps even deify, a peasant family“.

Pavel Filonov, The Magi, 1914
(The Russian Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia)
Pavel Filonov, Peasant Family (Holy Family), 1914
(The Russian Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia).

The Life of Klim Samgin (1987)

The Life of Klim Samgin is perhaps the most dramatic, deep and fateful novel by Maxim Gorky. In 1980s Victor Titov made it into a film.

I have written about the film The Life of Klim Samgin previously in the Russian Los Cuadernos, but I don’t think I have actually mentioned it in English. Certainly, not in the way I am about to mention it now.

life-of-klim-samgin
 

Meanwhile, The Life of Klim Samgin is perhaps the most dramatic, deep and fateful (even for its author) novel by Maxim Gorky. It was set out to describe the all-embracing internal tragedy of its protagonist, Klim Samgin, the offspring of the family of intellectuals, who was unable to find a place for himself in Russia’s political climate at the turn of the 19-20th cc. However, by depicting Samgin’s excruciating journey in search of a middle ground between continuous doubt and a burning desire to belong but also to dominate, Gorky somewhat unwittingly but very convincingly narrated the drama of many Russian intellectuals who upheld the revolutionary ideals, only to be repelled by the realisation thereof.

This personal journey of tremendous difficulty is precisely what makes the figure of Samgin rather appealing, especially in the liberal climate. He appears to be the one who constantly questions the world around him, wearing the mask of a dashing individualism all the while. His sense of self-worth doesn’t fail to engage the reader, as neither does his constant doubt which is in sync with how we understand an individual; with how we define our attitude to the Revolution; and even with the image of ‘a mysterious Russian soul’.

At the same time, as one reads the novel or watches the film, one can’t help feeling pity for Samgin. At one point at the very beginning of his story we see one of the characters describing an intellectual as this: “he doesn’t see the sadness of his role – the role of a child who is daydreaming while crossing the street, oblivious to the fact that in a moment he is to be crushed by the heavy cart of History, navigated by the experienced yet not very delicate whips“. As the life of Klim Samgin unravels, we understand that it is this very child, invested with a mission which he only vaguely comprehends. Often he is the hostage of events, a pawn not only for his parents or friends, but most importantly – for the people, the powers, and History, too.

I really love meditating about a few phrases that J.-P. Sartre dropped on the final page of Words. Culture neither saves nor justifies anyone; but it is the mirror for the mankind. The Life of Klim Samgin, conceived by Gorky as the vast chronicle of the Russian life and history from 1877 until 1917, can be seen exactly as this kind of a mirror that, predictably, is still of much use.

It was of very much use when back in the 1980s the now late Russian director Viktor Titov took to make a film based on Gorky’s novel. From comparing the text and the film, I can say that this was indeed a titanic work, and it is obvious that Titov had worked on the script for a very long time. Gorky’s novel was left unfinished, but even so it consists of four parts, and what a good student of the novel and the script quickly notices is that the script easily creates a succinct version of very many pages. While this is not surprising, in the context of the film that very closely follows Gorky’s language, this is an important trait. The whole work came out as a 14-episode TV series, every episode lasting just over 1 hour. In effect, it is a series of 14 features, joined together by unfailing directing, the brilliant and critically acclaimed work of the crew, and the outstanding performance of the cast.

The film was finished by 1987, and I believe it was in 1988/89 that I saw it for the first time on TV. Just like The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson were my gateway into writing, so The Life of Klim Samgin opened the treasures of world’s literature – and of the home library. I was so impressed by the film that I felt compelled to go and search the bookcases for Gorky’s books. Surprisingly or not, I was able to find one of the volumes from Gorky’s collected works, quite an old book with yellowy pages; one of Klim Samgin‘s parts was included in that volume. I didn’t read it then, but I found a few more old books there, and this was a fortuitous and important discovery, considering that I wasn’t even 10 years old.

Many years later I rediscovered the leading actor in this film, Andrei Rudensky. It was pretty amazing to suddenly read an interview with him in one of Moscow’s magazines. It was in 2003, and it brought many reminiscences of my childhood, including the one I’d just mentioned, about the home library. Moreover, although by 2003 it’d be 15 years since I watched the film, I realised that I remembered it quite well.

This meant that The Life of Klim Samgin left a much deeper impression that I could myself imagine. Turned out, he was about my age now when he was working on The Life of Klim Samgin, and it was his cinema debut. Considering that he had to portray his character from the age of 17 until the age of 40, this was certainly an outstanding achievement for him both personally and career-wise.

If you are interested reading more about Maxim Gorky and have a look at the selection of his work, here is the start: Maxim Gorky – Biography and Works.

 

 

The Story of Sara Barabu (with a bit of Edith Piaf)

As you know now, I finally got to listen to Secret ‘s music much later than I should have done . About the same time I was already listening to Edith Piaf, and I first couldn’t believe my ears when I heard what sounded like an evident borrowing from the song Milord. Many years later, when I had the change to revisit both songs, I was entirely convinced that Piaf’s theme from Milord did feature in Sara Barabu.

In a distant haven of Timbuktu
There is a house of Sara Barabu.
Sara Barabu, Sara Barabu,
She has got a cow Moo.

And a scrawny, old marabu
Is living with Sara Barabu.
Sara Barabu, Sara Barabu,
Sara’s got a marabu.

The coconuts grow all over Timbuktu,
As well as nuts, pineapples, and apricots,
Around them hover butterflies and wasps,
And monkeys are munching on bananas
In the haven of Timbuktu.

And so this very marabu
From the house of Sara Barabu
Said “moo” all the time,
Said “moo” all the time,
And nobody knows, why.

So once Sara Barabu
Said thus to Moo and marabu:
“Quick, Marabu, become the cow Moo,
And you, the cow, become a marabu!”

The coconuts grow all over Timbuktu,
As well as nuts, pineapples, and apricots,
Around them hover butterflies and wasps,
And monkeys are munching on bananas
In the haven of Timbuktu.
(Milord‘s intermezzo).
In a distant haven of Timbuktu
There is a house of Sara Barabu.
Sara Barabu, Sara Barabu,
She has got a cow Moo – and marabu!
She has got a cow Moo – and marabu!
She has got a cow Moo!

The Beat Quartet Secret – One Thousand Vinyls

I still vividly remember how a clip “I Love Boogie-Woogie” by the Russian beat band, Secret , was coming up on TV, and my mother was switching channels despite my protests. I was deeply saddened… and years later, after injections of the Western rock-n-roll, I finally got my hands on an audio cassette with Secret‘s songs.

I’m not sure what I should better cite. “Better later than never“? Or “qui sera sera“? I guess both are fitting.

Making their entrance onto the Soviet musical stage in the 1980s, Secret was one of the first rock-n-roll “boy bands” to enjoy a massive popularity. I haven’t listened to their songs for 6 years, i.e. all the time I’ve been in the UK, and listening to them now I first and foremost note their distinctly well written texts. And good catchy tunes, of course. The band consisted of three guitarists and one drummer, and in their early videos from 1980s they were consciously exploiting parallels with The Beatles.

The song ‘1000 Vinyls‘ will undoubtedly be near and dear to the hearts of many music fans for all the right reasons. It’s also one of the songs I enjoy singing because of its fairly complex chorus.

In my house
There are one thousand vinyls.
The house is overwhelmed and weary.
One thousand vinyls in different styles.
One thousand vinyls of all times.
And among this
Thousand vinyls
One can find a cancan,
A disco, and a foxtrot.
I have no choice but
To play these vinyls
All day long.

Chorus:
One thousand vinyls!
I’m already angry!
I already cannot
Listen to you all!
One thousand vinyls!
Soon out of spite
I myself will begin
To play the music.

In my house
There are one thousand vinyls.
And I’m even playing them at night:
Either an old-fashioned rock-n-roll,
Or a hit in a ‘bubble-gum’ style.
Oh, I have no strength to see
This happening for days!
I wish I would take this
One thousand vinyls
And broke them into
One thousand pieces!

Chorus.

Some Flickr Pointers

I noticed that Flickr link in my Lijit widget wasn’t working. I corrected it but I thought I’d use the opportunity to give you a peek at my “private” Flickr life.

I started using the site in 2007, partly because of Robin Hamman‘s paeans. I’ve loved photography already but as with blogging it took overcoming a certain inner hurdle to start putting the photos up for all to see.

I love Flickr; in May, during Futuresonic Festival, I even delivered a talk on Online Photography; and before then in January I wrote a lengthy article on how (not) to use Flickr. Working as a Social Media Manager, I notice, of course, that nobody uses Flickr as they “should”, myself including. But it’s good to strive to use it better.

Flickr is an ocean, deep, beautiful, and sometimes dangerous. They upped security and safety levels, and you can always ask to take you “to kittens” but chances are, you will keep looking. I don’t think it will be totally bad if a young person stumbles upon the imagery of sexual kind. My concern is whether or not there will be a sensible adult with them to explain things.

As for me, I was amazed when last year I got followed by the multitudes of leather fans. I love leather clothes, so this season I don’t even have to try to be fashionable. But to have your own self-portrait in leather pants and hand-made sweater accumulating views and comments was something different.

My experience of Flickr has been great, all the more so because for the second time a photo I took was included in Schmap City Guide. In 2007, one photo was featured in Schmap Liverpool Guide. In 2009, another photo (which you will not find in my personal photostream) got included in Schmap Manchester Guide. It was made at one of the events where I went as my company’s employee, and it is credited to the company.

So, by way of giving a few pointers to what you’re going to find if you visit my Flickr:

All sets, and particularly Knitting and Lake District

Carmarthen Cameos (South Wales)

Manchester

Bolton (a Lancashire town in Greater Manchester county)

London

North Wales

Castles (only Welsh so far)

Museums, Art Galleries, Exhibitions (Beck’s Canvas, Liverpool Walker Art Gallery, Victoria and Albert Museum)

Concert and Music Events (Tina Turner, Barbra Streisand, Toshio Iwai)

Russian Places (some of my childhood places)

York (I loved the city, will go again some time)

Yorkshire: Leeds and Scarborough

Lancashire: Oldham, Blackburn and Blackpool

Merseyside: Liverpool and Southport

Cheshire: Chester, Altrincham, Warrington, and Stockport

Midlands: Birmingham

Public Lectures (Slavoj Zizek rules!)

Festivals: Futuresonic, Manchester International Festival, Text Festival

The photo above is Cleopatra’s Needle from London 2004 set.

error: Sorry, no copying !!