Sergei Chigrin: "ANTON VALYNCHYK composed over 100 songs of the Belarusian"
In Minsk publisher "knigosbor" published a book of local historian Sergei Slonimsky Chigrina "Once native song" dedicated to the life and work of a forgotten composer Anton Valynchyka. Researcher rasshukav as dozens of his works, and hopes that they will enter the repertoire of contemporary songs collectives. With Sergei Chigrin talked Michas Scoble.
Michas Scoble: "Sergei, the title of your book reminded me of the words of Michael Zabeydy-Sumitskogo:" I lived the song and the song gave people joy. "Can the same be said about your hero Anton Valynchyka?"
Sergei Chigrin: "Indeed, Valynchyk as Zabeyda Sumitsky-lived song. Wherever he worked, he was always making choirs, musical groups. He had a very good education, he graduated from the Warsaw Conservatory, was one of the best Belarusian musicians in the 30-60s. Life threw him all over Belarus, but without a song without music, he could not live. And in the center, in their home country, and in dumplings Belarusian gymnasium and Maladzechna, and in the Minsk region, and in the Lida district Valynchyk created choruses. In recent years he has worked in Grodno pedinstytutse He was also a choirmaster famous band "Neman". You mentioned Zabeyda-Sumitsky only sang, he was an artist, and Valynchyk was a musician and composer, and he sang very well. True, he was embarrassed to sing, but when he was asked to students and friends, in private he was very well executed Belarusian songs. "
Scoble: "At the beginning of the Second World War, Anton Valynchyku was 45 years old — the age of conscription, but he never took up arms. He did not get to the front, did not go to the guerrillas, he lived in German-occupied Minsk and worked choral conductor. Who in times of war woes sang in his choir? "
Chigrin: "Anton Valynchyk was far from military service. During the war, he led the church choir, taught in schools, which operated in the heart of the occupation. We had to make a living somehow. During the war in Slonim lived a lot of intelligence. We can recall the poet Sergei and Anatoly Khmara Iversen, artist Anton Karnitskaya. The intelligentsia is not sitting idly by, each doing their job. I think that Valynchyk survived the war thanks to the music. It did not touch neither the Germans nor the guerrillas. Everyone knew that this musician is beyond politics. But you can specify that the weapon was Anton Valynchyka Belarusian song. "
Scoble: "Life in the occupied territory of the Soviet regime was regarded as a crime. Many Belarusian teachers, cultural workers after the war came to the Gulag. How did you manage to escape Valynchyku? "
Chigrin: "When the book was almost appended, I met in the center of the teacher of Alexander Pasko, whose sister was a pupil of Anton Valynchyka. And I asked why the NKVD arrested Valynchyka. And Pasko said that a few times and had orders from Minsk and Moscow, urgently arrest Valynchyka, but for some reason these orders were not fulfilled. For the local population Valynchyk was extremely intelligent, honorable man. "
Scoble: "NKVD-MGB has arrested thousands of intelligent people. This is not an obstacle. "
The book "Lived own song."
Chigrin: "I agree. Perhaps Valynchyk had some acquaintance in positions of power in post-war Slonim. But let's ask ourselves a question: what was his fault during the occupation? As he led the church choir? Not to be hooked to arrest and sent to the camp. "
Scoble: "What songs were in the repertoire Valynchyka? On whose poems he wrote music? "
Chigrin: "Valynchykam written more than 100 songs. He wrote them primarily to the words of Belarusian poets, classics of our literature — Maxim Bogdanovich, Yanka Kupala, Yakub Kolas. Several songs he had the words of Larissa Heniyush. I was able to find only one of them, called "Mother Tongue". When my book, I turned to the leaders of several musical groups in Slonim. There is one very good folk group "Grymata." And its chairwoman was very happy when I gave her the book (and there is also text and notes). She promised that "Grymata" learn a song by Anton Valynchyka. Incidentally, this year marks the 100th anniversary of the birth of our great poet Larissa Heniyush. It would be nice to Valynchykava "Mother tongue" is also sounded at the anniversary of the poet in Zelva. "
Scoble: "I know that you have not even kept violin Anton Valynchyka. How you got it, and do you have any desire to pass it on, for example, in Slonim Museum? "
Chigrin: "Violin I do have. One day in search of information in Grodno I met with the composer Eugene Petrashevich, who knew very well Valynchyka. After our conversation, he took out a violin, which is over a hundred years old, and gave it to me. And now the violin Anton Valynchyka that for many years he held in his hand, on which he taught his disciples in the Grodno pedinstytutse is mine. I want to give it to one of the museums. Perhaps in Kleck, as he worked there in high school. Probably, now Slonimsky museum. Unfortunately, the last to date, no information about the glorious countryman, no artifacts related to the life of Anton Valynchyka. And the memory of it still has to honor in Belarus. "
Authors and works
Anka has fallen, "my work — Tablet from natural depression"
One of the most popular young writers has a literary name, derived from the name of a classic of Belarusian literature. Not too bold a step for the beginner, and as a young writer refers to accusations of bullying almost sacred national name? On this and other Fallen spoke with Anya Valentine Aksak.
Valentine Aksak: "Let's start the conversation with your literary name. How did it come about? "
Anka fell: "It so happened that in eighteen years, I have read in English story of John Lennon's" Nicely Nicely Clive ". The peculiarity of this story is that Lennon is very fun to play with words. (This is generally a feature of English humor). He took ordinary English proverbs and sayings, and combined them in an unusual way, or add to them unusual ending. Never until now I have not seen such texts, and in spite of the fact that even the whole point of the story for me was not clear until the end, however, I was so impressed that she decided to try to write something like that. And when there was a need to create a literary pseudonym, I wished he was a product of playing with words. In this case, that was a Belarusian, it was immediately clear that I — a Belarusian writer. Thus was formed and an alias Anka fell. I just took the name of our famous literary classic Yanka Kupala and tried to throw the first notes of the first and last name. The result was such a female pseudonym. "
Aksak"It is interesting that in one of the first stories you tried following the example of the British play not only with words, but with thoug
hts and images of the classics. I mean your story "Spike, bathing and a place of honor." And you do not like that it was terrible liberties with almost sacred for Belarusians names? "
Anka fell"One day a poet Vitaly Ryzhkov, with whom we lived in the same city of Mogilev, invited me to do such a project: to create a blog on the Internet and start writing poems and short stories there from Yanka Kupala and Yakub Kolas, but that they were our young contemporaries. It so happened that Vitali could not think of anything, and I wrote a few stories about the young guys Yanka Kupala and Yakub Kolas. I do not see anything wrong with that so little joke. I think I turned out pretty cute characters. "
Aksak"One of the regular Belarusian poets, after reading your these stories, said he would be this author's rod in one place well stroked. How do you perceive a similar reaction to your work? "
Anka fell"I think that the opinions, of course, may be different. And I am quite aware that someone does not understand the kind of humor, and someone does not like it, but I want people to still be polite and criticism of them was correct. One day I was in a master class Ales Ryazanov, and he told us: "Write what responds." I write what I respond, and I think that it — honestly. I did not cheat. And if Ryazanov asked whom he advised to invite the next time after that, he replied: "We invite anyone. I respect any creator, and any creator may have something to teach." I think it's a very sensible idea, and I try to stick to such a thought. I think that the creators of those who thus speak out about me, they are also taught to me for some reason, are taught to be tolerant, are taught to be tolerant of other people's opinion. "
Aksak"Poet Andrei Khadanovich, who was one of the first to introduce elements of humor in modern Belarusian poetry called you one of the most ironic of young Belarusian writers. Where do you draw inspiration for your humor? "
Anka fell"Since I myself — a man who loves to laugh, loves something cheerful, kind, then perhaps it's me and inspires such works. I can not write boring. Once, however, has tried. By the way, recently it was. We are a young author went into the literary pledge: I invited him to write a funny story to word it started with one and the same letter, and in return I undertook to write a serious story without a trace of humor on a given topic to them. The theme was — the funeral of his sister, but not the burial process. For me, it was a literary exam. It seems to me that I had passed, that is, I wrote a serious story, but, really, it's not something I tend to. "
Aksak"In an interview you said that you aspire to any problems you are not disturbed. You are completely asocial, apolitical man? "
Anka fell"No.. Just me as a person, and the inherent tendency of some melyanholiya giperbalizavats life's problems. And my work — such a tool, the tablet from the natural depression, which I am inclined to. "
Aksak"How soon will your first book of short stories?"
Anka fell"It is being prepared for publication by the publishing house" Goliaths. " All that depends on me, I did. I wrote it, and now it's just for the printing and typesetting. "
Anka fell. The queen of the underworld, and protein-
Balahon Balahonavich all fell and fell, then faster, then slower, sometimes very, very slowly, sometimes quite rapidly. Post only at first it was scary, and now even pleasant. He spread his arms and legs in the manner of stars and with interest the tunnel, which has fallen: it was fairly light, as on the shelves, which are swept from the bottom up, someone lit the night lights under hoods. Obviously, it was a storage room where he kept whose Steve Twist the winter. Balahonavich hoodie deftly twisted and with both hands grabbed one of the legs of a three-liter jar that was more accessible. Jar was full compote antonovok that someone had carefully wrapped under the metal cover.
Balahonavich skillfully revealed her bare hands, drank juice, then turned the jar, shake gently and smiled, as if he saw someone familiar: now with him flying apples.
In their company he will not be lonely, so we'll be back by half an hour earlier to figure out how it happened that a respected hoodie Balahonavich had to deal with the fact that it is not a person to make the teacher, namely to fall, and, moreover, not just fall and fall without training purposes.
On a fine summer morning hoodie Balahonavich went for a walk along its possessions in the school garden and met a squirrel — sitting in a tree, she tore Antonovka and folded in a basket. Naturally, the fruit was not hers. Balahonavich himself once planted these apple trees with the expectation of vitamins.
Squirrel action does not fall into the list of incentives, so ceremoniously hands clasped behind his back, the teacher decided to make her point:
— Well hung fruits back! — Navzrov shouted Balahonavich.
Squirrel surprise dropped the basket and fell — apples rolled in all directions.
A dishonest lie down for a bit with my eyes closed, then sat down, looked quizzically at Balahonavicha hoodie, so indifferently said, "Oh, it's you …" (it was clear that she was not severely impaired), cheerfully jumped up and began to pick apples refugees back into the basket .
Hey, tailed! — Exclaimed Balahonavich, stung by such obvious disrespect.
— By the way, hoodies — Squirrel stopped their criminal exercises with apples and also back legs behind him, turned to his companion.
— I made you a place to stay! Look at that!
Hoodie looked where she pointed, and saw that the grass-ant (I think that the name of this type of hemp, especially green and soft) pastseleny nice little yellow pad, decorated with embroidered cornflowers.
— Telling the truth? — Hoodie Balahonavich severely reduced the eyebrows to the protein does not think he relented (BB and immediately relented.)
— Oh my God! — With anguish Vaverytsa said (and this was it), pressing his legs to the heart — you do not know me, hoodie? Have I ever lied to you?
— Happened at all — he remembered revenge.
— But when it was — waved Vaverytsa — I'm not like that. Sit down, hoodies, do not wait!
Vaverytsa stroked the carpet, as if inviting teachers rather sit down and begin to relax under a tree. Her voice was some impatience, but hoodies not attach any importance, walked to the proposed place of rest and with a slight rypennem sat down at the knees on the carpet.
Should I explain something ingenious and less trusting of Balahonavicha reader? For example, the carpet was covered trap, a pit, in which our hero immediately fell and was now forced to fly so aimlessly and without alternative.
Flying past a large portrait of a bearded thin frame Balahonavich again could not resist and tore it off the wall, a plaque is easily torn off the rope. It seemed to him that this is a portrait of the principal, but not — with a picture on it looked unfamiliar face with glasses, though so, mustache and beard were like the director's, only more solid, and, if I may say so, something more substantial.
Mustache portrait smiled and began to stir. With incidents draped almost let it go, but not release
d — after all, he was a brave man with nerves of steel, others are teachers do not go. Portrait continued to smile, piercing eyes behind his glasses looked just the same robes in the gut.
Balahonavich already soaked a little, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, and decided to break the silence of some polite phrase.
— Do you want an apple?
Balahonavich kampotnyh took one of the apples, which have continued to accompany him as a true friend that never collapsed, going on the road with you, and motioned for his gallant painted bearded gentleman. For some reason he was confident that if the portrait of a smiling, then the apples may have. The bearded gentleman smiled even wider and more, and said:
— And are you sure that the fruit is not a figment of your imagination, young man?
Hoodie Balahonavich realized that the bearded man is going to take the conversation about the metaphysics of existence, and took an important form:
— Of course, I'm sure, as the fruit of my imagination completely different! — Balahonavich made a mysterious pause. — They're in school! Eat, help yourself, please. It is here I catch myself. By the way, since we are flying together in this tunnel, then let's get acquainted: Balakhonov hoodie Balahonavich, eskvaer.
Hoodie Balahonavich let apple, bearded gentleman who is still ignored, stretched out his hand in greeting, and immediately took it away, common reasoning that if the only person in the portrait, then shake hands, he can not.
— Heard heard — boomed portrait. And I — Valakud. Me, with your permission, no!
How is it not? — Such a development of events with our Balahonavich you did not expect and surprise vytarapiv eyes.
— And that's it! — Paint the picture began to fade, and outline Valakuda melt.
Soon, he disappeared entirely, the last mustachioed smile faded.
In the hands of Balahonavicha left blank canvas spanned by the frame …
To be continued.