Two Friends in Kyiv

 

Sviatoslav Playing the Bandura, drawn by Tintin

When the Ukrainian Orchestra performed ‘Ode to Joy’ in Kiev Square on March 10, 2022, to mark World Happiness Day, I looked at the photograph and thought once again of Sviatoslav and Blahovista. Less than a year ago, these two kids living in Kyiv, Ukraine, were sharing music, art and love with children across the world, courtesy the Met Opera Global Summer Camp. Blahovista had photographed herself in that Square, when she showed off the city to fellow campers.

Here in Kolkata, as the spring froths around us, spraying the new-made green with jets of colour and life, I remember the summer when this brother and sister had introduced themselves and their world to my son Tintin and to opera loving friends from every continent. When you’re less than ten years old, it’s a long way from Kolkata to Kiev. But in the summer of 2020, when the Met Opera summer camp went online and ‘Global’, all of that changed.

 Each time camp ends, the kids mourn the end of weeks of heady companionship and joy, experienced like a holiday at home itself. Their camp counsellor is moved to tell them ‘Whenever you’re feeling a little sad, remember, there are kids all over the world that love the same things you do. And next summer will be here in no time.’

When Ukraine was invaded, now almost a month ago, the camp counsellor told me that he too had tried to get in touch with the kids’ parents, but was yet to hear back from them. I was flooded with memories.

When the kids were introduced Dvorak’s ‘Rusalka’, the opera based on the story of ‘The Little Mermaid’ the two children invented and acted out  the following story. ‘Rusalkas’ are creatures who were once human but drowned. They now live in water, trying to lure humans into the depths. They become most active during ‘Rusalka’s Week’, which is the week before Trinity Sunday. With a little knowledge of herbs though, you can protect yourself from them. The Rusalka is likely to ask you ‘Wormwood or parsley?’ If you choose parsley, you will be dragged away to a watery grave. If you choose wormwood however, the Rusalka (who looks suspiciously like Blahovista in a nightgown) will herself run away screaming.

Blahovista plays the flute. She describes herself as a hard-working flautist in search of beautiful sound. She is also a composer, playing her pieces on the piano, saying that this is how she has to bring out that which she has inside. Sviatoslav plays the bandura, a plucked string instrument of Ukrainian folk music. He describes it as the national instrument of Ukraine, with fifty-five strings. He accompanies himself singing a song he describes as two hundred years old.

Trying to find out about the bandura, I came across the following information. In 1875, the Russian Government introduced sanctions (Ems ukaz) that restricted the use of the Ukrainian language. As the bandura repertoire was mostly in Ukrainian, this effectively stopped its use on the concert stage. The itinerant blind bandura players of Ukraine almost disappeared. These losses were finally mourned at the XII^th Archaeological Conference in Kharkiv in 1902. This was followed by a rise in Ukrainian self-awareness that once more popularized this instrument.

In 1918-20, during the Russian Civil War, a number of bandurists who were members of the Ukrainian armed forces or played for Ukrainian soldiers, were shot by the Bolsheviks. Afterwards, when Soviet power was secured in the country, tolerance towards Ukrainian language and culture grew and once more the bandura’s sonorous notes sounded through the land.

In the 1930’s, in an effort of cultural assimilation, Soviet authorities instituted measures to restrict Ukrainian cultural expression. Many bandurists were arrested and were forced to serve sentences in penal colonies or exile. Many simply disappeared. During the Great Purge in the late 30’s, the artistic director of the State Bandurist Capella in Kyiv was changed almost every fortnight because of political arrests.

It is believed that in December 1933 or January 1934, around three hundred musicians from the entire country were invited to participate in an event in Kharkiv. All were executed as undesirable elements in Soviet society. A memorial to this tragedy was created in Kharkiv.

Music, however, has always transcended borders. I remember, too, the young Russian summer camper Sonia, filling the room with the sound of her piano, recreating two tempest scenes from ‘The Barber of Seville’ and ‘Rigoletto’. Playing the piano with great effect, she explains how both pieces create the sounds of raindrops and then develop into a full storm of thunder and wind.  

Sviatoslav – I know that the bandura is not the only instrument you play. The walls of your family home displayed a number of musical instruments. Wherever you are my young friends – your family and your fellow nationals - your astonishing courage has stunned the world. I know you will pick up the strings and notes that are with you still and we look forward to seeing you again this summer. And if you see this, drop me a note, will you?