Troitsky cocktail

The word of the Russian critic Artemy TROITSKY really matters in the world of music, but it always causes quite a stir. His judgments evoke diametrically opposite responses, which only confirms the critic’s authority. In the last while, he has also been wielding a great deal of clout on the civic stage. Troitsky can be more and more often seen during the opposition-organized events, while the number of lawsuits filed by the officials he has offended has reached half a dozen. Troitsky is no less interesting as an interlocutor than he is as a critic. We invite our readers to see that it is so.

1. MUSIC

Now that we are at a distance of years, what was the “samizdat rock” – an adventure, a school? What kind of experience is it?

“Naturally, the samizdat rock gave me more freedom than composing texts for the Soviet journals and newspapers. I could use slang absolutely freely and even resort to some half-indecent words. On the other hand, you could write on local rock music only in the samizdat until the new times came. I remember writing my first article on the Russian rock group Mashina vremeni in 1976, but even this was not published. My first publications on Russian topics, which were, incidentally, very judicious and ‘well-disciplined,’ began to be printed in about 1980. Somewhere by the late 1970s, I had not been interested in the Western rock music but had also shown lots of enthusiasm about our new wave. I felt like writing on this topic. It was only possible to do this in samizdat publications, such as Zerkalo, Ukho, as well as in student almanacs and hand-written jazz journals like Kvadrat.”

What did you prefer in samizdat publications as a reader?

“For me, samizdat and recorded tapes was an absolutely natural informational niche. It was the same thing to read samizdat or to listen to Galich. It is samizdat where I first read a lot of interesting literature – not only political, from Solzhe-nitsyn and Varlam Shalamov to The Master and Margarita, but even porno stories by the now forgotten authors, as well as completely innocent things, such as the Strugatsky brothers. I took an absolutely carefree attitude to this: I never hid or burned it, sometimes I read samizdat manuscripts with great pleasure in the metro. It was part of the cat and mouse game.”

You also had an altogether different experience as a journalist. What did working for Playboy give you?

“From the professional angle, this gave me almost nothing except for the knowledge of the way the publishing industry works. And some things became an extremely unpleasant discovery for me, in particular, awareness of the cruel fate of advertisers, which I did not even suspect when I plunged into this whirlpool. Otherwise, it was just having a good time, endless big and small romances, and, what is more, perhaps, the fact that my beloved wife Vera is the sister of a Playboy model. I first met her sister and only afterwards unearthed my genuine treasure – Vera Albertovna, with whom I have been living in peace and harmony for over 10 years.”

Speaking on about your life story, I would like to ask this. You always participate in all kinds of rock projects. Why do you need this? Does a rock critic need to try himself on stage?

“It’s a hobby, pure and simple. Well, almost everything I do in my life, except for my beloved family, is a hobby. But, among them, there are second in importance likings which include playing music. I have an extremely unserious attitude for it. For instance, I played the solo guitar in Zvuki Mu in the early 1980s. Then I dropped it on my own initiative because it was very boring to do rehearsals, and I considered this as nothing but wasting time. I still sometimes sing with the group Otzvuki Mu and occasionally record my soundtracks, but I usually do this either for charity or at some parody shows. I do not have even a trace of the loser musician complex. I am one hundred percent sure of what I am saying.”

In this case, there can be no doubt about the impartiality of your judgments.

“No, my judgments are partisan and individual. It just bores me stiff to be kind of an automatic reader of information and a passer of verdicts. On the other hand, I think any subjectivism or partisanship in the work of a critic should be well substantiated.”

Speaking of subjectivism: why did the late-1980s generation of Soviet punks dislike you so much?

“Frankly speaking, I know nothing about this. In reality, I maintained friendly relations with punks. There was a man named Yegor Letov [front man of the Siberian punk rock group Grazhdanskaya Oborona. – Ed.]. We quarreled as soon as we met. I must have been speaking out about him in a negative tone. But Letov is Letov and punks are punks. There were wonderful punk groups in Novosibirsk and Petersburg, with whom I was always friends. The Moscow punks Tarakany composed an abusive song about me after I had said that the Moscow punk wave was decorative punk and advised them to take Petersburg and Siberia rockers as role models. There were also pop-song punk groups which would tour German pubs – I never took a serious attitude to them, and I would say this openly if asked. This is why they started to hate me. But it is their problem.”

Let us speak in a broader context. You once called the present-day Russian rock as pop kitsch with electric guitars. Are they that bad?

“No, they have improved in the past few years. On the one hand, some old activists – Vasily Shumov, Mikhail Borzykin, Yuri Shevchuk – have livened up and, on the other hand, there are new sprouts, such as Lumen, Barto, and The Last Tanks in Paris. Besides, there is quite good rap, too. So rock-n-roll is now on the rise, to some extent, in Russia. How long and, what is more, how high this rise will be is a question which I cannot answer, but now it is much more interesting.”

If we are to recall a heroic epoch, I think the Soviet-era rock was more like a resistance movement, a political expression, and a theater. There was very little music as such in it.

“In the situation we lived in, it was far simpler to draw attention by means of angry texts rather than by music because, additionally, it was then difficult to make interesting music for purely technical reasons: there were no good instruments, rehearsal bases, etc. But once these possibilities came up, they brought along good music. Incidentally, this first of all applies to Kyivites. I still think there was no more interesting, from the musical angle, group in Soviet times than Vasia Hoidenko’s Kollezhsky Assessor. Had there been different conditions, this wonderful and original group would have occupied a place in the iconostasis of avant-garde rock next to the most well known Germans, Frenchman, Britons, and Americans. They would have been quoted like Cocteau Twins and others. So we did not have plenty of good music, but it still existed.”

But it looks like it could not be otherwise. Will you agree that all ideas in rock music came to an end right in 1991, and in the West this happened still earlier – in 1980? After this we can only see very talented and successful re-combinations.

“I cannot deny this because I myself share the same viewpoint unfortunately. I would only say more precisely: the point is not that ideas came to an end but that discoveries had already been made. The time span from the 1950s to the early 1980s saw grandiose discoveries in the realm of pop and rock music – something like the discovery of America. I am afraid nothing will ever be achieved on a similar scale because it seems that everything has already been discovered. The notes remain the same, and Earth proved to be round-shaped. Nevertheless, there still are talented people in both Western and our music. On this open field, they continue to dig some small holes, re-combine and invent some, even trivial, things. But this seems insufficient to us, people accustomed to great discoveries. Hence, there is sadness and despondency. But we have to put up with this. Somebody may be nostalgic, but I am a more dynamic person in this respect because I have radio and TV programs with new music which I continue listening to. This suits me quite well.”

I cannot believe that you do not feel, at least sometimes, nostalgia for the troubled underground times…

“In general, I am not one of those who feel nostalgia. Rather, I am sentimental. But I am resolutely fighting sentimentality in me: by a firm decision, I cut off all nostalgia and try to live in the present and future. To be fair, there were, of course, a lot of major discoveries. And how many of them I made locally: for example, I discovered Grebenshchikov in 1979, Mike Naumenko in 1980, Tsoi and Mamonov in 1981, and, to crown it all, Bashlachov in 1984. It was fantastic. I lived in a veritable volcano of geniuses. Of course, we don’t have this now, and this cannot be changed. But still things are not so bad, for I also have other interests in life, such as family, children, and loads of interesting work. The authorities, too, are arranging all kinds of new adventures, so, as you see, there is no time for boredom.”

2. POLITICS

We are just going to speak about the authorities. Why have you been so politically active in the past few years? As far as I remember, your attitudes were much calmer in the 1990s.

“The point is the paradigm of the 1990s essentially differed from that of the 2000s. When I spoke on this subject in 2005 or so, I was banned from the First Channel for several years – I gave them an interview at some high-society event, which was aired in the Far East first. Somebody saw it and phoned to Moscow, after which Kostya Ernst quickly blacklisted me for several years.”

Was there anything objectionable there?

“I just reflected on the dialectics of such things as freedom and security and said that there had been relative safety but no freedom under the communists, complete freedom but absolutely no safety under Yeltsin, and neither freedom nor safety under Putin. This is the whole problem. There were things that did not suit me in the 1990s, such as the Chechnya war – bloody, dirty, and unjust, – but I think Yeltsin adhered to some basic values, especially freedoms, including the freedom of speech. So there was a feeling of governmental inefficiency but not of meanness. As for the current leadership, it seems to be extremely insincere and hypocritical. Besides, its attitude to ordinary people is even more disdainful than it was under Yeltsin, Gorbachev, or in Soviet times. Unfortunately, everyday life in Russia confirms this with a lot of examples. Indeed, I don’t want to keep silent about this, although I am not in organized politics. You’ll never force me to join any organizations or clubs. This applies to politics, religion, and many other things.”

Why? Is it your nature or stand?

“As for the nature, it is independence on the one hand and responsibility on the other. I do not like to fall hostage to somebody’s statutes, doctrines, or party discipline. As a conscientious person by nature, I categorically refuse to be held responsible for some Parteigenossen. Things like this happened in my life. For example, when I was member of the Moscow Rock Laboratory’s foundation board, I bore responsibility for some actions of this organization, which I absolutely disliked. There was no way to escape, as I was part of that team. Now that I have learned bitter experience, I decided it is simpler and more natural to be responsible for my own ideas and actions.”

This must be the source of your criticism of the Dissenter Marches. But taking part in this demonstration imposes no obligations on you and, besides, this basically meets your oppositionist principles. Is there a contradiction here?

“I have no contradictions with myself. I say it again: I belong to no parties. It is, for some reason, our practice: if you are in the opposition, you must share an essential set of certain doctrines. If you are a communist oppositionist, you must respect the Russian Communist Party or, still better, become deeply moved at the sight of Stalin whom I just consider an unsurpassable murderer and criminal. Accordingly, if you are a liberal, you must revere Yegor Gaidar, attend rallies in defense of the Article 31 of the Constitution, and do something else. But I share some viewpoints of one group and some of another, such as those of ‘green’ anti-globalization campaigners who are, incidentally, much closer to me than communists and liberals. And I mix all this into my own cocktail. The Troitsky Cocktail. And that’s all. But I am not foisting my views on anybody, I am not forming any parties and organizations, I am not seeking like-minded people.”

And what is your preferable form of protest?

“Any event that is conceived sincerely, done by honest people, and held in good humor. And it does not matter whether it is an auto race, a concert, a ‘monstration,’ or a flash mob.”

What do you think about the state of the current political opposition?

“I think the current situation is better than 3-5 years ago, when there was nobody to look at: on the one hand, the people who were once part of the ruling top, such as Kasyanov and Nemtsov, but are now trying to form an alternative governmental body, and, on the other hand, diehard communists whose faces clearly say: ‘No future in store.’ There also are all kinds of marginal elements with a certain percentage of chauvinism and nationalism. They were all absolutely uninteresting to me, even though I maintain a good, even friendly, relationship with Boris Nemtsov or Irina Khakamada, and know Ryzhkov and Kasparov quite well. But being family friends and standing together at barricades are different things. Now the situation is far more interesting because we have a powerful non-politicized and party-free opposition which I consider more convincing.”

This is what they call civic sector.

“I don’t know what it is called. Unfortunately, labels will be stuck to all this very soon. I mean people who are doing concrete things, be it Yevgenia Chirikova who is fighting for the Khimki Woods, or the Russian Federation of Motorists against highway feudalism, or Aleksei Navalny against bureaucratic corruption, or City without Drugs against the police cover-up of drug trafficking, etc. These are honest, strong, and energetic people who are making contribution to absolutely concrete things. This is what I respect. I don’t know if they need my help, but I am ready to stand next to them in the same line – but not on party lists.”

We are always talking of ideology. You once called yourself a left-winger, emphasizing that liberal capitalism is not to your liking. But it guarantees freedoms, doesn’t it?

“The point is there is a value called freedom and another very valuable thing called justice. Yes, wild capitalism provides a Darwinist-type freedom based on the survival of the fittest. This capitalism is good in that it does not put the state above man, especially an enterprising one. But far from all people are like this. For instance, I am not enterprising. I have absolutely no talent for business. I’ve been living off honorariums in all my lifetime. I can’t imagine what a stock exchange or an investment fund is. It is still unclear to me how one can make money from nothing. I am only used to working like this: say, write, film, conduct a concert, and get your money. Accordingly, liberal capitalism offers freedom in this respect. But there is not even a trace of justice here because lots of non-enterprising people end up on the fringe. They should be taken care of and not be considered as a waste that remains behind after the social Darwinism theory has been applied. This is why I fell out with bourgeois liberals.”

So you want the state to take on regulatory functions?

“I think the ultimate purpose and the main function of the state is to care about the weak, the poor, and the unpractical. Let the strong, the talented, and the enterprising care for themselves – way to go! But the state should assist the elderly, children, or people of free professions, whose talent has nothing to do with profit-making. Moreover, the state should be kind and just, and not as violent as ours.”

About the state and your relationship with it. You are now simultaneously involved in five court trials. Is such a number of lawsuits against you a malicious intent or just a coincidence in time?

“It is not a coincidence. Of course, it was a well-orchestrated affair. I myself don’t like to look into political intrigues, conspirology is totally alien to me, but all kinds of smart guys are saying this is linked in some way to the upcoming elections. It is suggested that our government is afraid of some activity in society, and it is worried that public figures, who wield some clout among ordinary people, instead of musing about Grebenshchikov’s lyrics or writing love songs, are suddenly showing, one way or another, their civic position and, what is more, are doing this rather critically. Accordingly, to show what may happen to bad boys who are hurting serious guys with idle talk, they have chosen me. Frankly speaking, I cannot say I fully accept this version. If I were Surkov, I would choose a different target – more politicized, on the one hand, and more pliant, on the other. But in this case this fate has befallen me. This pleases me to some extent. But, as the glory of a people’s martyr does not attract me at all, and I have endless things to do, a lot of interests, plus children, including babies, I do not need this struggle. Still I have to fight back, all the more so that it is not I who set the ball rolling.”

But, at the same time, Vadim Samoylov has retracted the apology claim, and the amount of fine has been reduced in police Major Khovansky’s lawsuit. Are they back-pedaling?

“All these lawsuits were far-fetched from the very beginning. They are all artificial. Samoylov has revoked a part of his suit just because it dawned upon him that it is impossible to deny the phrase ‘Surkov’s tamed poodle.’ And it is just nonsense to say ‘No, Samoylov is not a poodle’ or ‘No, he is not tamed, he is absolutely wild.’ Thank God, he got the message after I had said it more than once in various interviews. It is the same story with Khovansky: the suit is an absurd frame-up. I sympathize with the judges who have to listen to all this nonsense and then make compromise decision that won’t look too absurd. I think everything will be OK as a result. I have no doubts about this.”

But still why are you so tough on Samoylov? For, by actively collaborating with the authorities, he dooms himself to quite an unenviable destiny in any case.

“Firstly, I do not think that the expression ‘Surkov’s tamed poodle’ is something tough. All the words, including ‘poodle,’ are good, proper, and absolutely printable. It is nothing but an ironic expression. It is easy to guess that if I had wanted to give Samoylov real hell, I would have done this much more efficiently and effectively. I did not mean to do too bad a turn to him. Now it is he who has stirred up this story, by which he did a clearly dubious benefit to himself, for nobody will be calling him in none other terms than poodle in the next five or even ten years.”

Incidentally, why do you think some rock musicians, even such gifted ones as Samoylov, merge with the authorities?

“In reality, everything finally becomes a purely human story. Take, for example, the group Agatha Christie, where there were two brothers Samoylov – Gleb and Vadim, a spitting image of each other. They have now been scattered as much apart as heroes of Sholokhov’s And Quiet Flows the Don were. Vadim is part of the authorities, and he is very proud of this, while Gleb has remained a nonconformist rocker, and this human antagonism eventually resulted in the breakup of their group. A very beautiful and, I would even say, mythological story. And the main reason why our state-sponsored rockers merge with the authorities and pop artists kowtow to the authorities is of economic nature. This fetches real money – governmental requests, office parties, foundations, and performances at various lucrative events, such as city days or election campaigns. They are feeding off this trough. That’s all.”

It may be better to put this question to a political scientist, but still, do you think power can be changed in Russia through a peaceful and civil uprising?

“In my opinion, the only attempt of a peaceful uprising in my country was made in December 1825 and, as is known, it proved ill-fated. There was nothing peaceful since then on. In other words, we either had no peaceful way or no uprising. It is possible to change something peacefully in this country: there should be an inner regeneration of the elite.”

Only the elite?

“Such is our country. I think the only realistic and positive scenario for Russia is something that resembles the Gorbachev perestroika. And, in this respect, I am pinning some faint hopes on Medvedev and his liberal modernization-minded team – Kudrin and Chubais with whom, incidentally, I was born on the same day. At least, they are people who are aware of what today’s world is and, by contrast with Putin and his team, do not exclusively think in strong-arm terms.”

But it has occurred more than once in Russia that a period of thaw inevitably gave way to severe frosts. It was like a circle, a constant return to authoritarianism.

“It is a difficult question. All I can say is that Russia is a feudal country, as far as most of the key notions are concerned (this refers, above all, to the government-people relationship). There is not even a hint of democracy in Russia. Everything has remained, unfortunately, as it was before: the Oprichnina, monarchy, boyars, and serfs. The oprichniks later turned into Chekists, and now they are traffic policemen and taxmen; there were tsars and then Party general secretaries, now there are presidents and premiers, but I can see no essential difference between the current system in the country and the one under Ivan the Terrible.”

Taking into account that this regime may hold on very long, do you feel sometimes that you are doing a futile thing?

“Things may or may not change. I am a strategic optimist. I lived the greater part of what may be called unconscious life in the Soviet era, and I must say that, unlike the wise dissidents, such as Andrei Amalrik, I could not even imagine in, say, 1983 or even 1985 what would happen to my country in, say, 1989. Likewise, I think real life and history may be keeping a lot of surprises, including pleasant ones, in store for us.”

3. PICTURES

We have already discussed your hobbies, but do you have any outside music?

“It is collecting all kinds of modern-day ribald art, both Russian and American. I have quite a few collections. I don’t have enough space at home to keep them, so they are constantly on a tour. Incidentally, they have not been exhibited in Kyiv yet, even though there were proposals. One collection is now in Helsinki, another, of American painting, has gone to Vladivostok, and one more, a collection of photographs, lies folded at my dacha. They are always traveling and, who knows, maybe they will arrive in Kyiv sometime.”