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Shortly after the Soviet Union collapsed in late 1991,
there was established in Moscow the "Speak Up!" cafe,
an example of the wonderful delirium of freedom that swept through
the national psyche.
No other country in the world went through such a sudden explosion
of freedom as did Russia. The cold dead hand of stifling
dictatorship was gone for the first time in a thousand years.
Speak up! Be free! Do what you want! No
one is going to say "no" ever again!
Today, the "Speak Up!" cafe has become "La Cantina,"
serving Mexican food. The heady days are over, and Russia
is still grappling with the strange rite of passage involved
in becoming a capitalist republic.
"It's a miracle the Soviet Union disappeared peacefully,"
says Anatolyi Smelianskyi, rector of the Moscow Art Theater School.
"It was Gorbachev's main achievement. And then, Russians
thought democracy would come for the best people, but it came
for the worst people as well--all kinds of idiots."
For many Russians, "Democracy means anarchy, anti-Semitism,
lack of management, corruption, pornography, instability and
crime," Smelianskyi says. "In Russia, everything
is abnormal. Trivial and banal are good."
Smelianskyi draws an insightful comparison between two changing
giants. China, he says, began reforming its economy first,
and is only grudgingly moving toward political freedom. Russia
is doing just the opposite--there is political freedom, but economic
reform is coming along more slowly.
Russia's fragile new political system is highly dependent on
whether Vladimir Putin and his administration will be able to
impose some economic and political order while fostering prosperity
and continued freedom. In Russia's current situation, the
central government is the only institution up to the job and
no one matters more than Putin.
"In the United States, it really doesn't matter all that
much who is president--daily life continues pretty much the same
whether there is a Republican or Democrat in the White House,"
says Smelianskyi. "But in Russia, it is everything."
For artists, writers, composers and playwrights, the 70-plus
years of the Soviet era were, well, the best of times and the
worst of times. Some creative people committed suicide,
so harsh was the hand of the Soviet government. Say something
out of line, and you were in jail. There was little opportunity
to do anything fresh, modern, or different. Imagine Thomas
Kinkaid was the only permissible form of painting, and you have
some idea of the Soviet art scene.
Nonetheless, some writers today are secretly unhappy with the
disappearance of censorship. That's because back in the
bad old Soviet days, if a writer was censored or his book was
banned, he was instantly a heavy hitter. Smelianskyi recalls
writers in despair because the government pretty well ignored
their output, signaling to all that they were too minor to bother
with--not in the same league as those who attracted governmental
scrutiny.
Now, no one censors writers. The scribbler who was considered
significant by the Soviet authorities may now be insignificant--merely
one voice among hundreds clamoring for attention and book sales.
But while cultural life in the Soviet era was circumscribed,
middlebrow and some might even say senile, the Bolshoi flourished
with huge state subsidies. So did the Kirov, now the Mariinsky.
There was marvelous opera and superb orchestras. If
they stayed on the straight and narrow, talented people did very,
very well.
"Of
corze, vee ballerinas luff
our artisteek freedom, but vee
vant our &#$@& government
subsidies back NOW!" |
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(Early on, the Mariinsky was almost eliminated by the Soviets,
though. They thought ballet was strange, not "for
the people." But a Mariinsky director staged "Giselle"
and brought in a huge audience of ordinary Russians to see it,
along with the commissars. The ordinary Russians loved
it, so the commissars relented. Sergei Kirov, by the way,
was a Leningrad political leader and ally of Stalin. The
ballet company's name was changed from Mariinsky to Kirov in
his honor. Stalin later had him executed. The ballet
company is now back to its original name of Mariinsky.)
There were 750 state-subsidized theaters across the Soviet Union.
They were intended to replace churches as centers for spiritual
nourishment. Lenin was Christ. Cathedrals and local
churches were turned into everything from community swimming
pools to at least one "Museum of Atheism."
Today, lavish government subsidies are gone. There is still
government support for the arts, but nothing like the old days.
The Bolshoi and the Mariinsky are learning about sponsorship--going
to private business, or foundations, for funding. These
two great institutions never had to do fundraising before. Now
they are getting into it, big time. They are becoming entrepreneurial,
taking students from around the world, looking at ticket pricing
structures, and how much experimental new work they can do as
against the familiar classics that pack 'em in every time and
boost the bottom line.
In the case of the Bolshoi, it takes an enormous amount of money
to keep the enterprise afloat. Bolshoi means "big"
in Russian, and this venerable ballet/theater enterprise employs
2,500 people, has its own newspaper, resort at the Black Sea
and shops.
Russians are well aware that they are no longer a superpower
and they don't like it. They are looking to a rejuvenated
corps of artists to carry Russian prestige to the rest of the
world--while back home Putin and his aides struggle to tame the
wild capitalism that has taken over the economic life of the
country.
Flying from St. Petersburg to Frankfurt gave me sort of a capsule
analogy of the contrast between today's Russia and the West.
Looking down at the landscape as the plane climbed, Russia
looked shaggy, unkempt. There was a huge, abandoned factory
with shattered windows, then more fields and then endless, silent
forests. The next time I looked down, we were over Germany.
There were neatly outlined fields, disciplined forests,
brisk traffic on well-kept autobahns. The Lufthansa crew
members were sleek, smiling, efficient, polished. Everything
was gleaming clean.
Russia wants to get there. It may, someday. The Russians
are a resourceful, smart and courageous people. But it
will be a long, long time before ingrained ways of doing things
disappear. There is real danger that the whole post-Soviet
enterprise could still career into a new despotism.
"Russia is in a Chekovian situation--a void. We're
uncertain about the future," says Smelianskyi.
But he adds that he is cautiously optimistic.
©2003 by Charles M. McFadden. The McFadden caricature is
©2001 by Jim Hummel. The illustrations are from IMSI's Master
Clips Collection, 1895 Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506,
USA. |