Giya Kancheli: Patriotism cannot be a profession

In the former USSR the name of the famous Georgian composer was strongly associated with cinematography and, less so, with theater. His music was not performed in concert halls. Thanks to his inspiration we now have soundtracks to the famous movies by Georgi Daneliya (Ne goriui (Don’t Grieve), Mimino, Kin-dza-dza) and by Sergei Bodrov (Bear’s Kiss, and Prisoner of the Caucasus). Kancheli composed music for over 50 feature-length movies.

The name of Kancheli is forever entered into the annals of the theater together with the names of Georgy Tovstonogov (classical Khanuma) and Robert Sturua (stellar stagings in the Shota Rustaveli Theater and all over the world).

The world’s best musicians — Mstislav Rostropovich, Yuri Bashmet, Gidon Kremer — and many other musicians and conductors consider it an honor to interpret Kancheli’s music. Thanks to Kancheli’s friendship with the wonderful conductor Roman Kofman, Kyiv hosted concerts of Kancheli’s music on numerous occasions.

At the last concert Kofman, who is otherwise not apt to show his emotions, carefully conveyed the composer’s philosophical music to the listeners. The unique musician Gidon Kremer in a duet with a stunning cellist Giedre Dirvanauskaite presented the audience with “Quiet Prayer.” The Kyiv Children Choir “Schedryk” directed by Marianna Sablina performed “Lullaby to the Sun.”

I was fortunate to visit with the maestro on several occasions. He has lived abroad for a long while where he is known first of all as the author of serious symphony works. We have met in Kyiv and Baku, Berlin, and Moscow, and our visits blended together into one conversation on the developments in the past years.

Mr. Kancheli, many sad things have happened since I last saw you in July 2008 at a festival in Baku. How have these developments influenced your work?

“I told you at one point that I get the impression that we have all found ourselves in a huge pit. We can get out of it only if we do so all together, but we are lacking this general understanding to save ourselves. We seem to be slowly but surely losing the ability to listen and hear one another.

“It seems to me that all of this is reflected in the music I am writing. I cannot express my feelings in words very well; I wouldn’t say I am trying to do this in music, but whether I want it or not, they are present in what I am writing.

“I think every work bears certain marks of a certain time. ‘Lullaby to the Sun,’ which was splendidly performed by the children choir ‘Shchedryk’ at the concert, was composed last year, while ‘Quiet prayer,’ about two years ago.”

What is patriotism from your point of view?

“You know, people who speak about patriotism and love for their fatherland are secondary in my perception. When my friend Alfred Schnittke turned 60, I wrote him a letter saying: ‘My dear Alfred, Tbilisi is not what it used to be, nor is Georgia.’

“It is sad when most people see their profession as one thing: love for their fatherland. If this becomes their topmost priority, this patriotism is unacceptable to me. It brings adversity to the people and the country; I am against this notion of patriotism.”

Last year you mentioned that a project was launched to create an animated version of Daneliya’s movie Kin-dza-dza. At what stage is the project now?

“Everyone knows that Daneliya has worked primarily with Andrei Petrov and me. When I was offered to work on the animated version of one of my favorite movies, I agreed without deliberation. Working with Daneliya has always been difficult, even unbearable, for me, but those were happy months and years.

“Daneliya is extremely musical and has a grand sense of humor. … The part of the project that is most interesting for me is underway. However, it has been considerably slowed down by the crisis.

“I sent him a disk with new tracks, which I recorded at his request. The mail is now the main medium is our communication — I stopped coming to Russia after the events last August. In the near future I see no reasons to change this.”

This is a sad forecast. Is there a way back, or is it a cul-de-sac?

“I believe there is always a way back. It all depends on the personal qualities of a particular person. I very much hope that a time will come when there will be people who will understand that this is not how it should be. Perhaps, with time things will get back to where they were.

“A part of our territories has been forcibly cut off from us. To me, this is unfair, incorrect, and wrong. One is left to hope for common sense in the future.”

By your nature and nurture and in your life you are a man of the world. You once said that it is only the interaction and interpenetration of cultures that can create the spiritual aura that humankind needs, regardless of nationality. In the post-Soviet countries today the focus is on the national cultures. How productive is this way?

“I don’t think it is productive. When there is a bias to one side it is always bad news. These biases are usually artificial and should not have a right to exist. On the one hand, culture is designed to influence human progress. On the other hand, I understand that if Bach’s music failed to do so in its time, it is an illusion to think that culture can change something. But this does not mean that it should not exist and advance, appealing to the people of the earth in general.

“Regarding national cultures, I have a very particular attitude here: I believe that a great personality, if it is not inflated, creates something original and thus becomes a part of his or her culture in which he or she was born.”

In your book you have a separate chapter dedicated to your wife — it is nearly a hymn to her…

“Since 1991 I have lived abroad — first in Berlin and then in Antwerp. The main thing is that I am surrounded by the comfort of silence the credit for which goes largely to my wife. We have been married for over 41 years. [In the book] I simply told the story about how we got married and how we have lived together since then. Certain events cannot be perceived without some humor. Her role in my life is priceless, but life goes on. We have three grandchildren, and despite the fact that our children live separately, we often have family reunions.”

What is the impact of the ever increasing tempo of our life (I mean transportation, information flows, and the spread of mass culture) on the development of culture and the very notion of culture?

“It is hard for me to offer any global thoughts on this; I can only speak about myself. The faster the tempo of life, the more slowly I write my music. The more noise there is around, the softer my music is. I act in contradiction to what is happening around us — evidently, it is not very much to my liking.

“When I come to Kyiv, I stay in a hotel of the bank of the Dnipro. There are many steamboats going back and forth, and every 10 minutes disgusting pop music becomes closer and louder and goes further away.

“I was dumbfounded and thought: Why is such low-quality music in demand? Even within the genre of pop music there are excellent examples. Who is popularizing such a low grade and why?”

Do you think that these “culprits” are to blame for the dwindling numbers of those who want to listen to real music? What role does music play in a person’s life today?

“You know, it seems to me it plays the same role now as always. There are various genres, and they exist for different people. However, the thing is that we are flooded with poor mass music — from cars to restaurants. It is played at full volume so that you cannot have a conversation.

“Regarding symphony music, it seems to me that the number of people who love it is now roughly the same as always.”

Do you continue working for the theater and cinematography, apart from Daneliya’s movie?

“I have only one movie at the moment. I continue my cooperation with Sturua in the theater. He is now staging an excellent play by Max Frisch. I am writing music for this play, and I hope to be in Tbilisi at the final stage of this project and for the premiere.”