Max Korzh: Hope and Change Through Russian Rap

There has been a lot of boycotting of Russians in the arts since Putin's invasion and war Ukraine began.  A lot of criticism, most, in my opinion, justified, on artists who previously supported Putin's regime and previous attacks.  We don't always get the full story and, at least as best I can tell, here In the United States we don't hear a lot about Russian artists protesting Putin or his war,. This leads many of us to wonder why, and some of us are led to believe the silence makes them, if not complicit with Putin's invasion of Ukraine, then perhaps they're silence born of fear of threats to their livelihood, the safety of their families and other monstrous retaliatory actions not outside the realm of the possible from their dictator.  

While many of us can sympathize with those in fear of retaliation by Putin's regime, others, a good many of them, are speaking out, creating platforms for open dialogue between Russians and Ukfranians and encouraging an end to the war, regardless of what may happen.

Several of my younger Russian friends have turned me on to the music of one of Russia's most popular artists, the Belarussian rapper/singer Макс Корж - or as we'd pronounce his name here:  Max Korzh.  

From the beginning Max protested the war, and shortly after the outset sent out the following message to his millions of fans:

"Millions of people who grew up in the same yards, on the same values, who understand each other and are 100% ready to coexist peacefully, are again separated by war. I condemn the invasion and bombardment of a sovereign state. This is a war that will change everyone's life forever, no matter where you live. Everything familiar that we have already ceased to appreciate will become only a memory for us. Therefore, it is never too late if millions do not want war. Peace to Ukraine!"

While this seems to have bothered some of his Russian fanbase, I truly believe that this simple message of peace and brotherhood, along with his outright condemnation, has awakened in a lot of young people who would follow him to the ends of the earth, notions of peace and speaking out which, given their complacent ennui brought on by the economics of poverty and neglect, very likely, would never have never given another thought to their leader's machinations of war. 

This is not the first time the young artist has spoken out against Russian - and world politics.  Some of his lyrics are often filled with combinations of the images of skirmishes, war, despair, but filled also with the hope of of unity, kindness and brotherhood.  One of his opening tracks for his now legendary 2019 Moscow concert elicited enthusiastim from the crowd as he chanted:  

With all of those who call me
I will never be alone in this world . . .
We jump as one as a crowd in the sky
We dance on minefields
The dust is a meter high
The music pushes the dance floor
And it melts with the light
Don't push the stop button.  Don't . 

. . 
Dark night
Fires around the mountain again are burning
We are preparing for a trip
(for which) There are no reserve players - only the core
I don't even know your names
But you are all my friends
I will open my soul to everyone
If I can read kindness in their eyes.

At that 2019 concert at the Moscow Sports Stadium over 35,000 young people sang along, with Max for two hours, passionately echoing his tracks as though they were an enormous choir of back up singers and part of the show.  He made them believe they were.  And, watching from 4400 miles away Max made me believe it, too.  While the concert occurred several years before the current war, some were already carrying, and waving the Ukraine flag.  At the end, the crowd chanted "Thank You!" dozens of times, which segued into the singer giving a speech to introduce his last song of the night;  2 Types of People.  The mass of 35,000 who'd been cheering, singing, dancing and screaming, for hours, at once fell into a hushed respect, listening as almost as if in a type of spiritual rapture:

It's difficult to give you advice.  I live in a tiny country.  We all chill there.  We do not have responsibilities. There is responsibility for that land.  Of course.  But I cannot imagine the amount of responsibilities in your country.  You do not understand it yourselves.  

I look, I watch Russia, I see positive and negative sides.  I am not in charge to speak about positive and negative.  You have plenty of people that will tell you all about it.  Gain respect.  You know how to gain respect, but do not forget about the opportunity that you have. [Here part of the crowd began chanting "Ukraine! Ukraine!]  As for two types of people, you all know what this song is about, everyone has his own examples.  Someone comes up to me and says 'Bro, there are plenty of people to justify yourself - to create your type of a person.  We are all in the middle, both me and you.  If you were ONE of two types of people, you would not be here my friends.  We are ALL in the middle.  But, the INTENTION to become the second type of people, the GOOD type of people, that's already good my friends.  Really, really good.  I wish for more and more of the second type of people in your.country.  Many, many more. It's simple:  you just have to stop fighting for 100 years and that's it.  100 years.  Just 100 years without war and . . . that's it.  That would be a task for you guys, and your responsibility to live your lives peacefully.  How does it happen guys, two types of people?  Do you think about it?  One is raised to live among the animals, the other is raised to live in a society.  The first type, raised to live among the animals are being prepared for what?  For war.  The second type is prepared for peaceful life, peaceful coexistence.  Those who prepare for peaceful living take great responsibility.  That is the confidence in the coming peace, guys.  Thank you for listening to me, Moscow.  

The arts in all their forms, dance, theatre, visual, etc. have always had the ability to move us, but none of them quite so much as the art of music . . . of song. There is nothing quite like the outpouring of the human voice when wedded to myriad, almost countless styles of poetry and prose, tonalities and harmonics born of every race and culture, all of them with the power to open our minds, to create dialogues, to create inroads to the possibility of change. 

Like him or not, Max Korzh is here and has plenty to say.  That gives me, as it should all of us, hope. Imagine that.  

Moody Leads Portland Symphony in Season Finale

The other night I attended a special “Prelude” concert with the Portland Symphony Orchestra under the direction of its new Music Director, Robert Moody – (technically still Music Director Designate). This (and tonight’s performance) serve as Maestro Moody’s last under the “Designate” designation before he officially begins his reign this summer.

Moody strode onstage, a dapper, elegant and boyishly familiar looking figure combining a Robert Downey, Jr. like casual intensity with Ryan Seacrest hair. Every conductor must cultivate his look –it’s part of the job and in this regard, Moody’s unaffected, natural look would appear to suit both him and his audience, well. First up on this 75 minute –intermission-free concert, was a Maine premiere: “Phoenix” for Orchestra by the North Carolinian, Dan Locklair. Composed in 1980 for organ, brass and percussion, Moody, explained to the audience, how moved he was by a performance of “Phoenix” in its original form, and contacted the conductor to see if it could be reworked for full symphony. The result is a work I well imagine will leave audiences elated and cheering, as it did last night.

Fanfares by antiphonal brass onstage and also opposite ends of the balcony) introduced a slightly prickly martial theme quickly assimilated into the orchestra. Crisp and lively the piece marches nobly forward assuming a more valedictory air before a soulful – almost folkish melody takes over in the strings. Here, I was put to mind of one of those wonderful British tone poems - where a simple melody serves as the basis for a work that starts off charming before morphing its way into something grander, more stirring. It feels distinctly programmatic, like the very best movie music (and though film music is often used as a “put down” for contemporary music, such is not the case here – I’m talking about film composers in the Shostakovich, Copland, Walton and Britten mold, folks).

It is at this point where Phoenix, as its title seems to imply, begins to soar. Soon the full battery of instruments weaves its way through this beautiful theme, before a return of the brass fanfares – the mighty Kotzschmar Organ joining in, Phoenix continues to a glorious finale of awe and majesty. That all of this happens can occur in ten minutes is rather remarkable. Locklair’s orchestration of his own work, works. Big time. The PSO’s performance, with their new young maestro at the helm, quite simply owned the work. It was inspiring watching Moody’s face – an enormous smile ever beaming – and to see members of the orchestra, his orchestra – and ours – smiling in return.

A snafu or two in the synchronization of three ensembles notwithstanding, I couldn’t help smiling myself, proud to hear such rich, sweeping beauty and expressiveness of sound coming from “my” orchestra. Stirred as I was by the experience, it was impossible to ignore or resist the few but persistent tears escaping my eyes. Here was this new, young leader challenging himself, his orchestra and audience to go on a journey with him; here, the sonorous, rapturous and heart-on-sleeve emotional playing of the full ensemble - in my favorite hall (well, tied with Carnegie), of a new, inspired score. It was all of these things combining truly “in concert” that provided an experience to stimulate and overwhelm the senses. It’s what I live for.

I look forward learning and hearing more of Locklair’s music, and grateful to Moody for introducing him to Portland.

Following a brief introduction and a retuning of the ensemble, Moody again took the podium - this time for the evening’s featured attraction: Mahler’s Symphony No. 1, in D: the “Titan.” At the opening of the first movement – with that haunted, air-filled raspy stillness pervading the room - the strings barely making a sound – I realized, immediately, this was as magically hypnotic playing as I'd ever heard from this orchestra. Soon the room was filled with those familiar bird calls, sounds of nature, and folk inspired melody as Moody convincingly coaxed and calibrated Mahler’s built-in F/X from the orchestral fabric. It was done so brilliantly and convincingly for a moment I thought I’d been dropped off in Vienna.

Moody’s take on this symphony put me in mind of something I’ve been beginning to imagine or wonder about: the idea of an “American School of Mahler” sound. That is, to say playing of a less severe nature (though no less seriously played) than the mid-to-late 20th century European performances and recordings many or most of us grew up with, but in a style that seems to fully integrate Mahler’s picturesque libretti – closer to (I believe) what the composer, himself intended. One of the things that impressed me most last night about Moody was his ability to control and pace the most difficult transitions - thematic or temporal, holding the ensemble together taut and precise - this, in spite of Mahler’s many wild, mad-dash and virtuostic transformations.

Moody exuded genuine confidence in this music and never did one feel hesitation – either in his gestures nor from the players, all seeming to believe in each other. This is a rare, special thing in any ensemble and never to be lightly taken. Not an overly theatrical conductor, Moody nonetheless skimps nothing in his gestures – his motions, signals and direction alternately entrancing, dramatic when necessary, but clear always. Precise, always. In the Mahler this yielded a powerful, dramatic result that Moody and his musicians seemed never to be in question of. It was clear from those hushed, barely heard notes an hour earlier, where this was going.

The orchestra seemed reinvigorated, up to every challenge this monumental "Titan" of scores presents. The strings, with their Wagnerian-inspired tremolos, were thrilling, the winds and brass evocatively, skillfully painting the forces of nature Mahler demands. It was as exciting and well played a performance as I can remember ever hearing from this ensemble. I was thrilled by how skillfully Moody balanced the “Many Moods of Mahler”: bucolic, triumphant, noble, tragic, romantic (the Ländler played with wonderful, old-world style portamento), the silly drunken fun of the Klezmer-inspired madness, nothing was skimped on, and all of it was of a piece, none of it felt episodic or disjointed, all feeling as though wedded to the greater whole.

That this was happening here, in Portland, with our home team was . . . well, inspiring seems not strong enough a word for it, but it will have to do.

Friends, I believe we are in for some remarkable times ahead. Welcome – and thank you, Maestro Moody!

p.