General Situation: Absence Codes
Vertagrades and Vertagraders of Belarusian Literature
Belarusian cinema: waiting list
Theatre: Movement into the Russian Theatre Space
Pop & Rock. Witch Hunt and “Zmaharski Bubble”
General Situation: Absence Codes
The latest state of the Belarusian culture, cut into motley pieces, is interesting primarily because of the absence of obvious events and indisputable victories. The main thing here is determined not through artistic search, but through people’s situations. The texts work as an addition to the authors’ destinies, personal style looks like a device for voicing the empty space of life. There is a feeling of final exhaustion of the plot of the “unfinished revolution” and, accordingly, the need to change the scenery.
The former division into our own and strangers does not determine anything today, because there are no longer any former our own, nor yesterday’s strangers. However, for different reasons. Because strangers have finally “zeroed out” and gone into noisy broadcasting to a forcibly friendly audience.
On the other side, you can’t see hits and bestsellers: state film planning works carefully, with an eye on Moscow partners, and fine art practises agricultural trash. The theatre, losing its “disloyal” creative staff, is becoming increasingly dependent on its eastern neighbour for aesthetic and financial reasons. The loyal segment of Belarusian culture is irrevocably leaning towards the hopelessly secondary and ideologically helpless style of the frail Russian province. Permanent extermination of informality and dissent turns cultural institutions into bureaucratic branches of power structures. And it deprives most budget cultural events of even residual significance.
The state cult works in sync with the government: it does not create meanings, but keeps a place. Fills the space. Indicates a phantom presence.
As for their own, the situation is more complicated. After all, both the artistic environment and the circle of its (already sparse) loyal audience turned out to be cut down. The new dimensions of Belarusianness (both in the internal and in the migrant format) do not fit into the artistic vocabulary of the previous era. Their own are scattered in prisons and exiles. The rest learn how to practise invisible partisanship.
Being public in the country is dangerous. Abroad it is worrying. One and the other are mainly inertial movements.
Recovery is progressing hard. That’s why we live intermittently. That is why there are few premieres. That’s why concerts are mostly not new things, but old reputations. Therefore, exhibitions quickly live in museums and chronically fall short of the event. Therefore, in the next cultural review, there’s a temptation to leave a blank page instead of the text. With all due respect to those present and absent.
You calculate your own in the darkness of our invisibility. Looking through the general uncertainty. And you find them as an unexpected bonus to your delicate absence.
Two strategies of independent cultural construction are being developed in parallel: system design and destruction of regulations. The first invents a matrix, the second breeds chaos. The first lives in the dictionary, the second offers the unspeakable. The problem is that these strategies don’t know what to do with each other and don’t add up to a common process.
Thus, another gap appears in the Belarusian cultural field: `in addition to the division first into pro-government and independent, and then into those who left and those who stayed, there is a split into the cultural bureaucracy and cultural activists. And accordingly, new forms of competitive interaction are coming already in the most marked circles: the struggle for the distribution of resources between different clans of the cultural bureaucracy and competing for funds, audiences and platforms among cultural figures.
If we add to the general picture the active presence of the local and global foreign cultural context and content (where the “nomads of Belarusian culture” have to delve into simply because of their “migrant” status), the results are quite difficult: the Belarusian cultural field so far replicates not a new unity, but a new level of disconnection.
Successful projects of the international level – such as the latest works of the Belarus Free Theatre or the resumption of work in exile of the publishing house “Januškievič” — seem to be rather exceptional. Single victories of individual “converted” Belarusians. New Belarus sees itself poorly. What and how to say to the audience beyond their own is still unclear to most creators. “Undefined state, unfinished order” (Aniempadystaŭ), in which the Belarusian society remains in the country and abroad, is determined in part by the banality of art management, the crisis of expert work, the general vagueness of narratives, and stylistic inertia. And as a result — an obvious disintegration of what would like to be considered a new cultural order.
One thing is clear: the situation will not be improved through pure administration, even though it’s a European model. A high-quality systemic restart of Belarusian creativity is needed. Or the final retreat into the “émigré chanson” and secret partisan struggle.
Vertagrades and Vertagraders of Belarusian Literature
Trends:
- Struggle for discourse: Belarusian authors as the voice of New Belarus (outside); pro-government writers competing with “the runaways” and “the independents” (inside).
- Continuation of the physical and symbolic cleansing of the litetary process (inside).
- Parallelization and synchronization of book activities (internally and externally).
- The dawn of the age of consumption of Belarusian literature.
The Map of Meanings
What would be an appropriate New Year’s Eve metaphor to choose to kick off this time? Raising the vine. Oh yeah, that’s that. When gas workers and electricians with a new power transmission line or the owners decide to install sewage in the country yard or summer house, where grapes have been grown for decades, the approach to the house is often blocked by well-rooted vines. And then you need to destroy the support and throw the vine aside so that the bulldozer can pass. Sometimes — to put grapes on the ground for a year, or even two. But when everything is finished and another spring comes, the owners go out into the yard and put new supports, raise vines. Already in the summer, it comes to life, blooms and bears fruit like nothing.
Today, the Belarusian book business is in a whirlwind of repression, but it still seems like a vine that has been removed from its support, which gives new shoots as soon as conditions are created for it.
The process of moving the social community out of Belarus continues, and literary figures are inevitably affected by it — despite the phobia of losing home, which we diagnosed in the creative bohemia in previous reviews. This is happening against the background of incessant intimidation of the population in Belarus. The circle of persons summoned for interviews by the special services has expanded, mainly for money transfers to victims of repression, and the creative elite is gradually deprived of the opportunity to work according to their speciality. Searches, arrests and high-profile court cases are taking place one after another: the initiators clearly hope for publicity in order to exert psychological pressure on a wide audience. Yes, the episode that Andrej Horvat published on social networks in March 2023 was remarkable. On his way from Belarus to Lithuania, he was brutally detained and interrogated, but as a result was released from the country. One can assume, with the expectation of the resonance that this case will receive. Now a popular author and local historian is abroad.
Another impressive case for the community was the arrest in early March of the publisher Zmicier Kołas, who spent 10 days in the KGB pre-trial detention centre and was released without charges. His employee, printer Aleh Syčoŭ, remains behind bars as of the end of April 2023. The incident, against the background of which these arrests took place, is connected with the sabotage at the Mačuliščy airfield in the context of Russia’s aggression in Ukraine. As a result, checks at the borders have increased, close attention is paid to printed publications in passengers’ luggage.
At the end of April, it became known about the termination of the publishing license of Zmicier Kołas, but it seems that this was not connected with his previous imprisonment. The reason for the verdict was recognition of one of the publications of this publisher as extremist. “Zmicier Kołas” is the eighth publishing house that has ceased to exist in Belarus for one reason or another since 2020.
Thus, the most uncomfortable (although relatively safe) conditions for cultural activities have been created inside the country. This only increases the confidence and determination with which cultural workers raise the BelLit vine on the other side of the barbed wire, behind the Buh.
The project “Litradio: media about contemporary Belarusian literature” (previously existed in Belarus under the umbrella of the Belarusian PEN) was transferred to new conditions “from the past life”. Like virtually all revived initiatives, Pavieł Ancipaŭ’s portal has undergone an upgrade. The updated portal is designed to contain literary works, criticism and podcasts about literature, combining text and audio formats. It is actively being filled, and, like our other literary resources, it does not divide Belarusian authors into Belarusian and Russian-speaking, which once again testifies to the value of such an approach for the literary environment of New Belarus, and also tries to expand the optics from which Belarusians themselves look at the literary process due to outsiders: to begin with, the Ukrainian Russian-speaking critic Yuri Volodarsky, who now lives in Israel, reads iconic prose works in Belarusian and writes texts about them. Brief feedback: I wish that such outsider perspectives – and not only from the Russian-speaking world – would appear on the portal more often.
Another iconic portal for Belarusian culture — Makeout — was activated during the relocation in February under the label “DasHip: media about gender and sexuality in the context of Belarus”(project facilitator – Nik Ancipaŭ). The goal is to give a voice to the LGBTQ+ community in Belarus and beyond. It is noteworthy that at the same time online master classes of creative gender and queer writing are taking place, which, undoubtedly, is changing the domestic literary field for the better. In this context, regrettably belatedly, it is worth mentioning the online compilation “The Stretch”, which appeared in late 2022 and was undeservedly ignored in our reviews. The collection is the result of the fem-writing laboratory organized by the educational queer-femme sisterhood “Tender for Gender” (facilitator and facilitators of the project: Darja Trajden, Hanna Otčyk, Jula Čarnyšova, Tania Zamiroŭskaja, Jula Arciomava, Toni Ładšen).
In the context of the relocation of the Belarusian publishing industry, the “Januškievič” publishing house continues to release popular literature in Belarusian on a large scale, having also established a convenient distribution through allegro.pl, which has long been a dream of Belarusians abroad. In addition, Andrej Januškievič announced at the end of April about the purchase of rights to a number of Stephen King’s works. Taking into account the fact that the American writer publicly stopped cooperation with publishing houses of Russia and Belarus a year before as a sign of protest against Russia’s aggression in Ukraine, this news has not only a narrow cultural, but also a wider, political and diplomatic significance. In the spring of 2023, it can be said that the publishing house “Januškievič” has restored 90% of the capacity it had before its closure in Belarus — in the spring of 2022.
So far, the only significant gap in the regrowth of the vine of the literary process is the disappearance from the agenda of independent literary prizes: named after Ciotka, Šerman, Aniempadystaŭ, Arsieńnieva. Hopefully, their resurrection is a matter of time.
But let’s go back to our Blue-eyed country. Insiders give signals about the crisis of the state structures of literature. In order to keep resources in their hands, officials need to fill the pages of newspapers, magazines, and books with more or less decent texts, and during planned events in museums and libraries, the number of which should also be regulated, show the public not entirely disgraceful living authors. However, the repressive apparatus carries out extremely strict censorship, using anonymous denunciations, raids by propagandists, espionage in social networks and other kinds of such kung fu. Unspoken blacklists actually spread to the entire creative community within Belarus, regardless of the language and aesthetics of creativity. Authors today need very, very little to become non grata for the state. At the same time, the unimaginable rise of informal culture in the previous years greatly raised the bar even for the Ministry of Information and Culture and their motley projects, increasing the reader’s sensitivity to trash. Pro-authority writers have to compete and try to look dignified — and this is also, rather, not their internal need, but an order from above. The regime seems to have forgotten that one of the main reasons for the 2020 revolution was aesthetic: the population was overfed with officialdom, tastelessness and kitsch.
Thus, a request has been created for it to be beautiful, noble, high-quality, but for the author not to post anything anywhere, not to assign it to anyone and — mission impossible — not to sign up for the “wrong” candidate in 2020. As a result, the Bahdanovič Museum actually turned into the author’s playground of its employee Michał Baranoŭski. And it would even be comical if it weren’t so depressing. The potential of the creative field of the Republic of Belarus tends to zero and strongly depends on the loyalty to the system of individual “uninitiated” creators, on whether they will be tempted by meager fees in exchange for the loss of reputation. (For example, the shaming in social networks of the poet Rahnied Małachoŭski for the patriotic poem “I’m proud”, published by him at the end of March in the newspaper “Literature and Art” became notable).
The responsibility for access to the press of “extremist elements” obviously rests with the officials from literature, therefore no one tries to take these positions. There are signals about the shortage of staff at the state literary feeding station. It seems that officials have put up a new solid support for grapes, but they cut off any “unreliable” sprouts — even those that don’t mind reaching for it. Such a selection looks both funny and boring. An open question: will there be an unspoken amnesty within the system for further peaceful budget cuts, or will the authors, who today are published at the expense of the state, begin to be used for image purposes — to blackmail them with the privileges given to them and force them to publicly swear an oath to the regime?
Independent from the pro-government feeding trough, the majority tends to look for manifestations of the good old red-green trash in everything that is done today by state officials from literature. For example, in February, the outrageous Minsk writer Nata Alejnikava, who read poems about love in pink dresses during scheduled events on February 23, was subjected to virtual bullying. But, as it seems to us, a marginal phenomenon is wrongly presented as the mainstream. One cannot fail to notice the exceptionally high-quality content produced by the modest state-owned vertagraders under the threat of non-renewal of contracts, in the conditions of “banning everything”, one cannot fail to appreciate partisan schemes for joining the culture of people who need it today more than ever, to develop national humanitarian science and education in the shadow of the “Russian world”. There will be no examples, of course.
Review and analysis of the most important events of the season
On February 10-12, another poetry festival named after Michaś Stralcoŭ “Poems on Asphalt” was held in Vilnius: it was organized by the International Union of Belarusian Writers in cooperation with the Writers’ Union of Lithuania. It seemed important that the format familiar to fans of Belarusian poetry, known from Minsk venues, was repeated in the conditions of relocation. True, there was less punk, as usual, and more sentiments and empathy. Because this year, in addition to other missions, “Stralfest” served as an opportunity to meet authors from Belarus and those who cannot come to their homeland. Jur Paciupa became the laureate of the festival. The presentation of the anthology “Baltai — Raudona — Baltai” published in 2022 as an act of solidarity of Lithuanian poets and translators with Belarusian colleagues also marked an important point of cultural cooperation between Lithuania and Belarus within the framework of the festival. Contributors of the anthology are poets and translators Marus Burokas and Vytautas Dekshnis.
On March 22-26, the XXX International Book Fair-Exhibition took place in Minsk, which can be considered as the first result of the tenure of Aleś Karlukievič, who was elected (appointed?) chairman of the pro-government Union of Writers of Belarus in early 2022. And this result is interesting, first of all, because it exists in general — in contrast to the era of Mikałaj Čarhiniec, which was distinguished only by the odious escapades of the writer-general. Thus, in the publishing house “Zviazda” in partnership with the Russian publishing house “OGI”, at least two thick tomes were published: “Modern Russian Prose” (960 pages, contributor – Sergey Shargunov, editor-in-chief of the magazine “Yunost”, Russian literary official under Western sanctions) and “Modern Russian poetry” (704 pages, contributor – Maxim Amelin). Two thick bilingual books from the series “Literature of the CIS countries” published “with the support of the Ministry of Digital Development, Communications and Mass Communication of the Russian Federation”, which could be browsed at the Russian stand, contained a section of non-oppositional modern Russian literature (From A to Z, from Aksyonov to Yakhina), with the Belarusian version of the text. This means that people worked — translators, editors; and budgets were absorbed. For the first time since 2004, the pro-government literary holding has demonstrated its ability to participate in collective projects and distribute money for the benefit of its followers.
In 2023, joint projects with Russians are perceived by readers extremely negatively, because in this way Belarusian authors are integrated into the apparatus of Russian propaganda. But if similar activities had started earlier, by 2020, we would probably have a completely different literary landscape than today, when everything alive and relevant in modern literature (festivals, awards, schools of young writers) was institutionalized in Belarus through the Belarusian PEN or the independent Union of Writers.
The presentation of the anthologies became an occasion for unknown heroes to display the Russian stand on a huge screen and broadcast the phrase “Rossiyan literature” to the entire exhibition. For using the word “Rossiyan” instead of “Russian” in a state university today, you can get a scolding from a pro-government “yabatska”-teacher, but, as we can see, it’s permitted to Jupiter.
The mysterious disappearance of the bust of Łarysa Hienijuš on March 30 after the denunciation of the pro-Russian Hrodna propagandist Olga Bondareva is another notable case of the season. Walking monuments are an important topos of European literature, but in Belarus this phantasmagoria took place in reality. Working version: the bust was hidden by local residents so as not to irritate the propaganda, which looks like another act of Belarusian cultural partisan struggle.
On April 27-30, one of the most important book fairs for Europe was held in Leipzig, with the wide participation of Belarusian writers. The stand of the publishing initiative “Pflaŭmbaŭm” was open, presentations of German-language translations of the books “What are you going for, wolf?” by Jeva Viežnaviec, Alhierd Bacharevič, Jula Cimafiejeva, Saša Filipienka, Volha Hapiejeva, Maksim Znak, meetings with publishers and writers Alena Kazłova, Sviatłana Aleksijevič, Dźmitryj Strocaŭ and Zmicier Višnioŭ.
Among other notable international events where Belarusian literature was heard, it is worth mentioning the International Writer’s Week in Adelaide on March 4-9, where the Belarus Free Theater performed a play based on Alhierd Bacharevič’s “Dogs of Europe” with the author’s participation. The Australian meeting with Bacharevič was accompanied by the label A Writer in Exile. One can argue how much the Belarusian topic is interesting to the world establishment today, but there is something else. In the context of war and geopolitical changes in the region, there is also a symbolic struggle between Ukrainian and Russian intellectuals for discourse and visibility in the world. This is expressed, for example, in the disagreement of Ukrainian writers to perform where Russians were invited. Or in the revision of the world cultural canon on the subject of its “derussification”.
Against this background, one may get the impression that Belarusians are inaudible and invisible, but this is hardly the case. The Belarusian problem is, first of all, life in an unfree country, under conditions of growing repression, gross violations of basic rights and freedoms, imprisonment of journalists and writers in the presence of a strong civil society, and it only partially overlaps with the problems of Russian society and is not at all relevant to the Ukrainian situation. The countries in the context of which the world better understands Belarus and Belarusian specifics are Myanmar, Iran, China, Turkey and other states where despotism faces real public resistance. The global focus on our local problems, which is precisely achieved by the international cooperation of writers, helps us to see ourselves more adequately and to look for real working solutions for the crisis that Belarus is experiencing here and now.
It is also important to mention those literary events that took place, reinterpreting Valancin Akudovič, “without us”. This is, for example, the International Children’s Book Fair in Bologna on March 4-9, at which the Lviv “Vydavnytstvo starogo Leva” was recognized as the best in Europe. Ideas for the future?
At the end, another mantra about the indivisibility of the domestic literary process by borders with concrete examples. It seems that for the first time within the limits of the “new literary situation”, pro-government and independent publications are not divided according to aesthetic and artistic currents (well, just a little bit). It is interesting to compare the relocated project of Siarhiej Kalenda “Minkult” (in March 2023, the 6th issue dedicated to the concept of emigration was published in Vilnius; the source of financing is crowdfunding) and the collection of young novelists “Shadow of the Star”, which was published in parallel in Belarus (financed by Ministry of the Republic of Belarus, contributor — Julija Alejčanka). Andrej Dzičenka, a young left-wing avant-garde artist, wrote his prose in both. He was presented in “Minkult” with a spiky non-fiction in Russian, in a pro-government collection – with an equally spiky, but adjusted to the social realist “comb” of “young talent” Belarusian-language text. We are far from shaming one of the young authors who was published inside, and praising “Kalenda’s community”. There are strong and weak texts in both camps. We simply have to state that due to the political background today, the significance of the institutional division has increased. Independent literature is financed by patrons, the community or grants that go through the new Belarusian institutions (the Belarusian Council for Culture), which today causes more sympathy and trust. State literature with budget financing, even if it presents an attractive product to the reader — beautifully, in Belarusian, is perceived by this reader as a propaganda tool of the regime.
At the end of April, two long-awaited books of poetry were published: “Near” by Nasta Kudasava with graphics by Sviatłana Dziemidovič and “Almond Body” by Hanna Šakiel from the “Vilma” publishing initiative. Both books, in addition to their exceptional content, are a manifestation of the latest trends in Belarusian book publishing. It is quite difficult to immediately say in which country each book was published: both are perceived as an organic act of Belarusian literature. The women’s publishing initiative “Pflaŭmbaŭm” positions itself in a similar way: it does not mean relocation and does not declare staying here. Authors’ books are published here and there and read everywhere.
Conclusions and Predictions
“Russian world” and its rhetoric are organically alien to Belarus and Belarusians, this is manifested even in the context when it is necessary to demonstrate fraternal friendship and loyalty to “great Russia”. The obnoxiousness of individual propagandists today is meant to overshadow the profound (and completely, by the way, rational) desire of Belarusians for independence. Like 200 years ago, Russian culture in Belarus is an instrument of violence and pressure. Opposing this — secretly in the country and openly outside its borders — is a task that today, among other things, unites the cultural community.
Turbulences of the Belarusian literary process of the last 40 years — splits, transformations, unification in aesthetic movements, etc. — always preceded social changes and were their harbingers. If we take this as an axiom, then, according to observations in the field of literature and book culture, the consolidation of Belarusians around the topic of Belarusianness (whatever one puts into this concept), regardless of borders, is inevitable. And it will manifest itself, as 2020 showed, through trade union solidarity as well.
In current conditions, the symbolic significance of such professions as a publisher, a bookseller, a librarian, a museum curator, an archivist, a literary educator, a literary historian, a literary agent, has grown both internally and externally. To some extent, even the prestige of these specialities today overshadows the vocation of a poet, a writer. For the first time in the history of Belarusian literature, we can state a transition from juggling symbols to creating and expanding a product.
Vertagrad – a garden, a vineyard: a word from the Old Belarusian lexicon. In the context of national culture – from the 1670s, when Simiaon Połacki’s collection “Multi-coloured vertagrad” was published.
Belarusian cinema: waiting list
Trends:
- Belarusian cinema regains its presence in the world…
- …and continues to lose its presence in Belarus.
- But the mode of hope and promise is striking: something will happen soon (actually it’s not a fact).
The Dependent vs the Independent: battle of loyalties
During these three months, Belarusian cinema on both sides of the border developed an unexpectedly rich activity, and a slight déjà vu arose, as if the action is taking place in 2019 (and this is about the fact that fundamentally new solutions for new challenges in our cinema did not appear).
February began with the announcement of the creation of the Belarusian Independent Film Academy — and soon it was presented at the Berlinale. A visit to the Berlinale was a turning point for our cinema every year. On the one hand, pride and the promise of great prospects when it came to independent filmmakers. On the other hand, there is indignation about the fact that the state does not care about representation at the festival. After a brief period of nervousness, everything returned to its place.
Having become in 2021 a symbolic promise of an alternative future “soon”, the Berlinale played this role well this year. The presentation of the independent film academy – a beautiful symbolic step of separation from the banned co-aggressor state – once again promises that the scattered Belarusian cinema will have unimaginable prospects. As evidence, ten film projects were presented, which caused a little teacher’s approval at the Berlinale, and in the film community — quiet questioning about the selection and the shindig format. Let’s remember this combination: external approval and internal discord. We will have to live with it as before. The community is not in a hurry to become a unity yet, but is still fighting for loyalty.
Around the same time, the reconstructed “cinema concert hall” was also symbolically opened in Astraviec, and later officials with Natalla Kačanava at the head of a cheerful group visited the restored “Belarus” cinema in Stoŭbcy. And they reawakened the old staleness: the less actual cinema remains in cinemas, the more happily the officials remember that the most important, most loyal of the arts is just that.
As if in response, independent filmmakers presented an equally symbolic online platform of independent Belarusian cinema, Vodblisk. It has excellent chances to become an online ghetto of Belarusian cinema, because it arose out of a need that has been insoluble for years: Belarusian cinema is the cinema that everyone creates and no one can watch.
Vodblisk‘s gesture regarding the free annual subscription for the residents of Belarus is intended to testify to a symbolic stay in the homeland. While the Ministry of Culture purges the film distribution within the country, the online platform can fulfill its small mission “we are the real deal in the absence of alternatives”, although obviously, its main task is to preserve the presence (and the illusion of unity) of independent filmmakers as such. Just create a place where they remain visible.
Regarding the purge: in the spring, the last bastion of the decentralized festival movement fell — the “Unfiltered Cinema” film festival. A couple of days before the start, it was cancelled with a phone call from the Ministry of Culture. Just like the “Listapad” film festival in November 2020.
Let’s leave it to the voices over the phone to explain their decisions, because what is more important is that horizontal connections have long been working much better than vertical ones. And the screenings of “Unfiltered Cinema”, even in the format of a film lecture, still took place in Homieĺ. At the time of writing this text, the screenings were also planned in Viciebsk. And in Minsk, they were cancelled with a new phone call. In Vilnius, they showed the whole small Belarusian programme — through which, let’s assume, the festival in Minsk was cancelled.
The winner, by the way, is the same one as at last year’s “Bulbamovie” festival — Juryj Siamaška’s film “Trashhead”. It testified that artisanal cinema and its viewers are still guided by conservative ideas about authorship — they prefer narrative, “artificial” cinema. That is, “with an idea”, quite detached from reality, and sometimes completely escapist, with a clear “philosopher’s edge”. What’s amusing and encouraging here is that for a few moments in this well-mannered film with well-mannered supernatural elements the shadow of Jan Švankmajer looms.
The end of the world is cancelled
If we mention that a year ago, Belarusian filmmakers were panicking about death from cancellation, now we have to recognize that nothing terrible happened.
This year, probably for the first time since 2020, the festival distribution of Belarusian films seemed to be as saturated as it was before the split – and we should even cautiously note that it was more active than the diaspora distribution. Here is the film of Mara Tamkovič “On the air” which takes an award at the Polish film festival. Here’s Rusłan Fiadotaŭ’s “Away” winning in Tampere. Here is the premiere of his new doc “Rui” about a fisherman from Lisbon at the Swiss festival Visions du Réel. Here, Artdocfest also shows offline the fresh “A kite the size of a horse” by Saša Kułak, where the country of production is France, and the film “Belarus 23.34” by Taćciana Svirepa is shown online. Meanwhile in Korea, the animation “Prelude and Fugue” by Ihar Vołčak takes the prize, and Ihar, presumably, should be attributed to the opposite, “dependent” camp.
Here at GoEast in Wiesbaden they show a selection of old Belarusian cinema — including the rather inconspicuous “Orange Vests” by Juryj Chaščavacki and the iconic “Occupation. Mysteries” by Andrej Kudzinienka. (At the same time, his new series “Ten Lives of Miadźviedź” was seen so far only in Russia — if it was seen at all.)
In Wiesbaden there was also a rather myth-making discussion “Belarus — from the rise and fall of “Listapad” to the formation of the Belarusian Independent Film Academy”, which in this formulation refers to the founding meeting of a certain new Belarusian cinema. Or at least to a new stage of the old one.
We also have the premieres of two films, one way or another related to the protests of 2020: “Motherland” by Hanna Badziaka and Alaksandr Michałkovič, which won at the Danish festival CPH:DOX and won the FIPRESCIaward at GoEast, and “Belarus 23.34” by Taćciana Svirepa. Released ironically and sadly at a time when Belarus has long been 342.
These must be the last attempts to record the reality of violence and dictatorship, which was exposed and exploded in 2020 (it should be expected that soon, after two or three more attempts, the cinema will leave this topic). In “Motherland” — through the already archetypal figure of the mother of a soldier who died while serving in the army. In “Belarus 23.34” — through the testimonies of victims beaten by security forces during protests.
The machine of violence that Belarus looks like in these restrained films is an image that is already a little penitent, possible in this form after the start of the war in Ukraine. A look at the protests and repression gradually swells with a noticeable disturbing connotation: could we then notice that this machine of violence is rolling directly into war? The correct answer, as always, is dual: both yes and no. But the penitent narrative already demands to answer “yes”. Let’s remember that.
Everything will be, but not now (and will not be)
The purged space of cinema inside Belarus has switched to a promise mode: we are all promised to watch a movie soon. Alaksandr Jafremaŭ’s “Letter of Expectation” (we have the information from “Belarusfilm” that the film has already been finalized and handed over), then two strange co-productions with Uzbekistan, then even — just imagine — “The Adventures of Pranciš Vyrvič”, filmed in 2020 and shown even in China. But not in Belarus (“We are considering the possibility of showing it to the Belarusian audience”, said the general director of “Belarusfilm”, so that we remember that there is nothing more difficult than showing a Belarusian film in Belarus). And especially stubbornly — “We are united”, which has already changed its name to vaguely romantic “On the other side”.
Exploiting hope is a common thing for Belarusian cinema, which for decades has been living in the mode of “it’s here, soon, with this new director, with this producer — everything will blossom.”
This time, everything must officially blossom from the announced blockbuster “The Black Castle of Aĺšanski”, the project is as old as it is unfounded. In order not to wait in vain, you just need to understand that this genre — the post-Soviet blockbuster — was born almost simultaneously with the local dictatorships and still serves their dream of a spectacle for the people — and mass support for both the blockbuster and the regime. Every time the state tries to declare its own power, a “blockbuster operation” is announced, that’s all.
A lot of noise was made by the fact that the main author positions in “The Black Castle of Aĺšanski” are Russian creators. But at the same time, we have a not too different in terms of purpose retroseries “For half an hour to spring” about Uładzimir Mulavin and “The Pieśniary” — and there is an advantage of Russian creators in co-production, and even the premiere on the Russian First channel, if it was discussed, then quietly and with unusual understanding.
Christ landed on the First
Retro projects are such a thing that as soon as you make them, you have to immediately justify them, look for value in them and even find it. Therefore, it is better not to make them at all. If we do not hold back the temptation to create them anyway, we will have to look for some meaning in the unhealed cosplay of Sovietness as a space of total and grotesque sincerity, such a rigid and gentle proto-universe for the True Creator. We have to re-mythologize the figure of Uładzimir Mulavin, already mythologized by dozens of nostalgic-biographical TV programmes.
Thank God, he does not walk on water in the series. But the clumsy plot of the saviour plays out and has a pool of apostle musicians. It is worth thinking about what is the use of the image of the martyr creator who knows how to talk with both God and Mašeraŭ (with the second one, which is true, more willingly — and most importantly, the one who pleases him, answers, as it should be in the retrospective series for the First Channel).
Let’s just note that the series closes the possibility here and now — when we really need it, and not sometime later — to demythologize the Soviet cultural space, to deconstruct the memory of it and the very phenomenon of “convenient authorship” that nurtured generations of post-Soviet people and even more convenient creators. It’s a very unpleasant task, it’s better to call The Pieśniary the Soviet Beatles.
It is interesting that questions about a rather revanchist series, which sweetly and absurdly resembles a recent special operation in Hrodna (both of which inextricably call to mind the immortal line “your mustache has come unstuck”), were neutralized with brilliantly idiotic censorship by the Ministry of Culture. Who would have thought that “erasing” the unwanted Kupałaŭski actor Dźmitryj Jesianievič in the role of Alaksandr Dziamieška is an effective way to make the skeptical audience accept the series first as a victim of censorship, and then as “their own”. Unfortunately, the series avoided explaining how censorship became a social bond and a solidarizing cultural practice.
And for dessert. In the spring, the animated series “Maryla. In search of dziuniks”, was released on the Voka service. It’s distinguished by the singing of Iva Sativa, a handful of recognizable Minsk localizations and Belarusian dubbing (although let’s not put the events on an equal footing: aren’t the majority of Belarusian cartoons in Belarusian). The main thing is that the unbearable monopoly of “Belarusfilm” on children’s animated series has been challenged again.
“Maryla” seems to be the only new and completely Belarusian film that a domestic viewer can watch in Belarus without any obstacles “in hot pursuit”, without waiting for the sacramental “soon” and without entering the pool and the shindig. In truth, Belarusians are not particularly spoiled by such luxury, so thank you. For that, as always, all imperfections are forgiven.
Instead of Conclusions
All signs indicate that some new beginning is emerging in the situation of Belarusian cinema. But it does not show Belarus itself.
There is a need for new practical and productive forms of organization, in addition to the symbolic and status film academy. Maybe go back to crowdfunding? Shall we attack the fund? Cinema underground? A hybrid film studio? Shall we leave it as it is and let it be?
It must be assumed that the beginning will look like a lull and despair, while the bureaucratic cinema will push promises of a bright future.
Jan Švankmajer– a classic of Czech animation, the author of surrealistic works reminiscent of nightmares.
Theatre: Movement into the Russian Theatre Space
Trends:
- The Belarusian theatre, which works inside the country, is increasingly losing its distinctiveness and becoming a provincial appendage to the Russian space.
- There are attempts to rewrite history and erase from it the names of creators disloyal to the government.
- Russification of the domestic theatre continues. After the disappearance of “Znič” and due to the policy of Viera Palakova (the Belarusian State Academic Theatre for Young Spectators), there were only four collectives left in the country, working exclusively in Belarusian.
- Belarusian theatre in the country is faced with staff shortage and pressure from the state, collectives abroad (with the exception of the Belarus Free Theatre) – with interrelated problems of management and financing.
Erasing seditious surnames and inviting actors to the Kupałaŭski Theatre [official name – the Janka Kupała National Theatre] from Russia
The Belarusian theatre continues to remain in the Russian theatre space (both political and cultural), and therefore adopts the trends characteristic of this country.
After the beginning of Russian aggression, the names of choreographers, directors, and playwrights who did not support the actions of the Kremlin began to disappear from the websites of Russian theatres (for example, fashion writer Boris Akunin, outstanding choreographer Alexei Ratmansky, etc.). Belarus followed the path of Russia. For example, from the website of the Minsk Opera and Ballet Theatre — more precisely, from the pages dedicated to certain performances — the names of the dismissed artists began to be removed. We are talking about four conductors: Andrej Hałanaŭ, Viačasłaŭ Čarnucha-Volič, Ivan Kaściachin and Aleh Lasun. If one of these creators prepared the premieres, the rest of the production team (directors, artists, choirmasters, choreographers) stayed, but the conductors did not. There are attempts to rewrite theatre history and even erase references to disloyal creators.
It is sad that Čarnucha-Volič experienced repression not only in Belarus, but also in Ukraine. In April, the Odessa Opera and Ballet Theatre, in which the maestro was the chief conductor for the last four years and together with the team experienced the hardships of the war, broke the contract with him. The occasion was a photograph of the conductor with Yusif Eyvazov, the husband of the Russian diva Anna Netrebko who is under sanctions in Kiev. They met in Baku – the Belarusian came there to hold a performance at the invitation of the then management, but a day before his arrival, Eyvazov was appointed as the new director. The photo was enough to break the contract with the Belarusian. Although Eyvazov himself condemned the war.
But let’s return to the Russian influence on our country. Thanks to the neighbouring country, the Belarusian state has finally solved one of the personnel problems that has been bothering the eye for several years: it formed the troupe of the state Kupałaŭski theatre. The issue was resolved elegantly: new actors were mostly invited from Russia. However, they started learning Belarusian when they moved to Minsk. Although, even among our compatriots who were taken to the theatre, there were those who had never worked in Belarusian on stage or knew it with a dictionary. Meanwhile, we are talking about the national team, the oldest in the country.
Certainly, learning our language is possible even for foreigners. Actors from Russia also worked in the Kupałaŭski Theatre during the Soviet era. But they had an incentive to learn the language, for them the theatre was home. And the currently recruited Russian students have no one to study with. Therefore, for them, the Kupałaŭski Theatre is a place of transit: to work and return home.
Russia’s influence can be seen in other ways as well. In April, it became known that two Belarusian theatres — the Gorky Theatre in Minsk and the Puppet Theatre in Hrodna — will receive financial assistance from Russia. Each of the collectives (among others from the post-Soviet space) will receive 5 million Russian rubles (more than 120 thousand US dollars) for equipment, as well as 5 million for productions. This is a significant help in the conditions when the Belarusian state funds culture extremely poorly. But there are two circumstances. Ethical: aid comes from the aggressor country. And cultural: money, most likely, will be allocated to productions of Russian artists.
Sometimes, such a repertoire policy does not even need to receive additional funding. In January, the director of the Homieĺ Youth Theatre changed — the contract of Alena Mastavienka was not renewed. Dramatic changes in the repertoire soon began to be observed: in March, the theatre premiered the play “Autumn Boredom” by Nikolay Nekrasov. The production was called “How to kill one evening” and was performed under the auspices of the Russian House in Homieĺ. Earlier, this theatre staged performances based on the plays of the famous Irish playwright Martin McDonagh and his colleague from Germany, Marius von Mayenburg.
Guests from Russia and russification from Palakova
Russian influence does not end there. But in terms of the arrival of foreigners, there is almost no alternative to it: only a few come to us from Western Europe. One of the exceptions is the production group led by the Italian Aldo Tarabella, who will stage another version of “The Barber of Seville” in the summer of 2023 at the Opera and Ballet Theatre. But the rest ignore the theatre of our country.
That is why it is from the territory of our eastern neighbours that both performers and foreign groups come. In March, the “[email protected]” festival was held in Mahilioŭ. State media announced that the forum is returning in a full-scale format. Indeed, in the past the festival almost turned into a review of Belarusian bands, but last year it returned to the usual international programme. This year, its geography has doubled compared to 2022. Then Belarus and Russia were represented in the programme, now Bulgaria and Kazakhstan have joined them. But in reality, two Kazakh productions and one Bulgarian one were shown in Mahilioŭ. They didn’t do the trick: Belarus (9 performances) and Russia (6) again occupied the lion’s share of the programme, so the winners were chosen from among these countries.
By the way, “Pachupki” of the Republican Theatre of Belarusian Drama won. This is a milestone work of the director Jaŭhien Karniah, which embodies the current era and our time. But the premiere took place at the beginning of 2022, and since then a performance of a similar level has not appeared in Belarus. This once again proves that with the current situation in the country, masterpieces or even successful performances appear more against the odds than thanks to the circumstances.
However, the Mahilioŭ forum still allowed to show some interesting productions from abroad. Compared to it, the announced “Victory” festival organized by the state Kupałaŭski Theatre (April-May 2023) looks extremely traditional. In its programme there are traditional plays about the Second World War, according to the direction, the declared goal is “patriotic education of citizens”, which relegates the actual art to the background.
The idea of inviting guests from Moscow is also picked up by other teams. The reputation of the visitors does not matter. In March 2023, the play “The Game of Love” was staged in the capital’s Musical Theatre. The director was Marat Basharov. He supported Russian aggression against Ukraine. Until now, he was known as a man who beat two wives at different times. The Metropolitan Opera House invited a “special guest” from Russia to one of the concerts — he was the musician Sergei Roldugin. He has a reputation as Russian President Vladimir Putin’s wallet, helping him launder money.
Russians also feel free on the stage of the Belarusian State Academic Theatre for Young Spectators: almost all recent premieres were staged exclusively by Muscovites. This circumstance is a reason to talk in more detail about this theatre. Recently, it often performed at festivals, which is explained by the influence of its director Vera Palakova. For example, “[email protected]” opened with the performance “Karenina” of her private project “TriTeFormat”, which is actually integrated into the system of the theatre. “Figaro”, staged directly by this collective, was announced in the programme.
Palakova became the director a year ago, in April 2022. Even before her appointment, the theatre staged the play “Time chose them” based on the book series “Pioneers-Heroes”. But all other performances of the theatre have been shown in Belarusian. Before her appearance, Palakova announced reducing the use of the Belarusian language in the theatre performances in her interview.
“We have two official languages in our country. Focusing only on the Belarusian language means losing part of the audience, guests of the city. After all, guests come to us, the same Russians who, unfortunately, do not know the Belarusian language. Why are we losing this viewer? We have the Kupałaŭski Theatre, which works only in Belarusian. The Republican Theatre of Belarusian Drama (RTBD), which works only in the Belarusian language. <…>. This impoverishes us. I believe that performances should be in two languages: Belarusian and Russian. Then the theatre has a commercial history. <…> The state will always lend us a helping hand, but we should not be dependent on this vaccination. We have to learn to make money ourselves. It seems to me that we ourselves will be proud of this, that we will be able to earn money ourselves”, said Palakova.
Words did not depart from action. The premiere of the next production, “The Canterville Ghost”, performed after the appointment of a new director, was still held in Belarusian, but the poster was already in Russian. After the performance, there was a press show in Russian: “The Alps. Forty-first”, based on Vasil Bykaŭ’s “Alpine Ballad”; “Zhenya + Tanya = love” (based on Pushkin’s “Eugene Onegin”), “Figaro”, “The Queen of Spades”, as well as the children’s production “Hedgehog in the Mist” and the New Year’s performance “Once Upon a Time in Sladkograd”. Except for the last one, all of them were staged by directors from Moscow.
The number of Belarusian-speaking collectives decreased not only because of the Belarusian State Academic Theatre for Young Spectators. In September 2022, the authorities suspended the work of the Red Catholic Church — since the end of the 1990s, it became the venue for the Belarusian poetic theatre of one actor “Znič”: a special hall was equipped there. Since then, no more performances have been held. Later, Viačasłaŭ Šakalida died — the only actor who was on the staff of the theatre. And in February 2023, the director and artistic director of “Znič” Halina Dziahileva was retired. The dismissal was not political: Dziahileva turned 76 this year. But there is not a single actor left in the state, the positions of director and artistic director are vacant. Since then, there is no information onthe official page of the theatre.
In total, 29 professional theatres operate in Belarus. Only six of them worked exclusively in Belarusian until the beginning of the 2022/2023 season. Now that “Znič” has stopped working (quite possibly forever), and the Belarusian State Academic Theatre for Young Spectators is being russified before our eyes, there are only four of them left: the Kupałaŭski Theatre [official name – the Janka Kupała National Theatre], the RTBD, the Jakub Kołas National Theatre and the Belarusian theatre “Lalka” (the last two are in Viciebsk).
Staff shortage
Meanwhile, repressions and dismissals from theatres (sometimes forced, sometimes voluntary) continue in Belarus, invisible to the outside eye. For example, Sviatłana Cimochina, the star of the troupe who shone in the high-grossing “Interviews with Witches”, “Notes of a Young Doctor”, and independent projects Ok16, was actually forced to resign from the Minsk Puppet Theatre. “Interviews with Witches” is not on the theatre flyer for the upcoming months. It is quite likely that this performance will not be shown again. Halina Ančyškina no longer works in the Homieĺ Youth Theatre — she also had to leave.
Sometimes the scale of layoffs and departures is visible only from a distance. As it was noted in an interview by the conductor Ivan Kaściachin, the National Opera Theatre lost a third of the ballet troupe. Let’s add that as a result, endless entries of new artists have become commonplace. In this way, the general level of the troupe is reduced and traditions are broken. Now the repertoire is dominated by ballets staged in the 1970s and 1980s by the choreographer Valancin Jelizarjeŭ who has recently been editing them. But it is not always possible to transmit performances “from feet to feet” from those who danced in them to newcomers. As a result, the overall level is further reduced.
Personnel problems are also manifested through the obvious “directors’ shortage” in the drama theatre. The list of potential directors has decreased significantly recently. Some have left, others can’t direct because they’re blacklisted, others don’t want to as a matter of principle. Lack of personnel has led to searches even in amateur teams. For example, in April, the Republican Theatre of Belarusian Drama premiered the play “Here I Come!” — a comedy of paradoxes based on the works of Daniil Kharms. At least from the middle of 2000s, Minsk professional theatres did not turn to this creator. And now it was specially translated for the production by Maryja Puškina.
As a director, the RTBD invited Alaksandr Barodka, a graduate of the capital’s Academy of Arts, who works in Salihorsk (unfortunately, this large — for Belarus — city does not have a professional theatre). His debut turned out to be quite successful and decent, the performance looks professionally made. Another thing is that the premiere allows us to define other problems.
Redundancies in the RTBD, which have been taking place after 2020, have slightly eroded the backbone of the troupe and newcomers have begun to appear in it. The theatre performance “Here I come!” testified that Ludmiła Sidarkievič and Vieranika Busłajeva look the most confident in the women’s ensemble — longtime stars of the troupe, their young colleagues only aspire to this level. On this occasion, we can recall the general, long-standing crisis in Belarusian theatre education: recent graduates often cannot create a worthy competition (even taking into account the inevitable lack of experience). And also note a certain imbalance in the level of the troupe, which directors who have been invited to the RTBD will face in the future.
Management, financing and lack of premieres and shows
Belarusian theatre abroad faces other difficulties. First of all, it encounters the interrelated problems of management and financing. This results in a minimal number of premieres. For example, this year, in 2023, none of the Belarusian foreign collectives (the Belarus Free Theatre, the Kupałaŭcy, Team Theatre and the Theatre of August, which exists in the structure of The Old Theatre of Vilnius) have yet produced new performances.
However, there were still premieres, only at other venues.
For example, the musician and director Palina Dabravolskaja staged the play “I will come out of the forest, pull out my spine, and it will serve me instead of a sword” in February at the Komuna Warszawa avant-garde theatre. In the same month, the actress Natalla Lavonava together with the children of the Vilnius theatre studio, released the performance “Dreams of Belarus”, in which several professional actors were employed.
In March, the director Uładzimir Ušakoŭ staged the performance “Borscht” in Helsinki, and the director Jura Dzivakoŭ released the performance “rEvolution of the Hare” in Poland (this is part of the project of the artist Tania Dzivakova, which includes an exhibition, a master class and the actual performance).
In the last days of April, the Belarusian theatre “Kryly Halopa” and the Swedish ADAS-theatre showed a community project in Gothenburg — “Mama Zoja, Belarus”, and Jura Dzivakoŭ produced the play “Bad Blood” in Warsaw’s Powszechny theatre (Belarusian actors also take part in it).
A common problem inherent in a good part of these performances is a small number of performances. Since the beginning of the year, the Kupałaŭcy have performed offline only three times. In Lublin, during the performance of “Grandfathers” [“Dziady”] (in March), tickets for it were immediately sold out, which means that there is a demand for it and other productions of the collective. Team Theatre twice showed the production “How are you?” in April and once — “Heather honey”. The performances of Dabravolskaja, Lavonava and Ušakoŭ mentioned above have been shown from one to three times so far. This is natural for their project status, but there is a lack of independent theatre productions, so we want to see them more often.
There are several exceptions. The Theatre of August is in a winning position: performances “The Third Shift” and “The Play That Didn’t Happen” are shown several times a month. Tania and Jura Dzivakoŭ’s project has already been presented in Poland’s Sopat, Wroclaw and Bialystok, in June screenings are planned in Warsaw.
The Belarus Free Theatre bets on touring: in the spring, its play “Dogs of Europe” was successfully shown at the Adelaide International Festival, one of the largest in the southern hemisphere, after London and Paris. This trip is a great organizational and managerial success of the team leader Mikałaj Chalezin. By the way, the team went from Australia to Berlin for the shows. Such resonance allowed the team to confidently look to the future and announce the autumn premiere of the opera “The Wild Hunt of King Stakh”, which will take place in London.
Among the foreign tours, we should mention the trip to France for the project “1.8”, which was staged in 2021 in Warsaw’s New Warlikowski Theatre with the participation of Belarusian actors Pavieł Haradnicki, Palina Dabravolskaja, Ihar Šuhalejeŭ and Aleh Harbuz. Last year, his tour took place in Prague, this year in France, and a new trip to the latter country is planned for autumn.
The national theatre continues to face increasing pressure from the authorities. Total russification, mass dismissals, one-sided focus on the eastern neighbour lead to the fact that in this sphere it becomes an appendage of Russia. But the focus is not on the best traditions, accumulated during the years of relative pre-war “freedom” and a certain autonomy of the Russian theatre from its authorities. Forced integration takes place in a provincial way.
Abroad, Belarusian theatre faces the consequences of the fact that most of its representatives previously ignored the latest cultural processes and trends (both artistically and managerially). Now they are forced to use the express method to master what is an integral part of the European cultural policy. The success of this process will depend on their prospects in the near future in emigration, and in the global future (upon return) — on the possibility of restructuring the domestic Belarusian theatre kitchen and its transition to new tracks.
Pop & Rock. Witch Hunt and “Zmaharski Bubble”
Trends
- Blacklists are overgrown with new names. Ina Afanaśjeva and Lady Gaga are under sanctions now.
- “Traitors” are crossed out. The Ministry of Culture broadcasts the official position of the state and openly declares that loyalty is more expensive than artistic value. “Song of the Year” perfectly reflects this trend.
- Cultural landing force abroad. Belarusians are getting together and starting to systematize touring activities.
- New releases. From energetic punk rock to doom metal.
- “Zmaharski [Belarusian protest warriors] bubble” as a symbol of the separation of generations.
Official culture: creative suicide with a patriotic smile
Belarusian “black lists” have always existed like this — in quotation marks, in a half-legal and half-mythical form. This is a fact that was never publicly acknowledged by the official representatives of the Belarusian authorities: all the papers that got into the media space resembled self-publishing creativity and did not look like any official document.
The same is happening now. A document with the names of unwanted artists appeared again in the Belarusian segment of the Internet. The list is very motley: there is Cher with Lady Gaga, and Alaksiej Chlastoŭ with Saša Niemo — perhaps this is a historical moment and a rare case when these surnames ended up on the same sheet of paper. It is not known for sure whether this is really a document used by the authorities, as it raises many questions. For example, there is a band N.R.M. but there is no Lavon Volski. There is Zmicier Kałdun but there is no band Daj darohu!.
If this is a real list, then it was compiled by not very experienced people, who are usually engaged in completely different tasks. If this creativity is by an unknown author, then at least it was successful, because it caused a large-scale discussion. Another thing is that the originality of this piece of paper is actually of secondary importance: now no one disputes or silences the facts of ultra-censorship, and the existence of black lists can finally be removed from quotation marks and given official status. In any case, the list of almost 90 bands and performers looks very superficial: the repressive machine in Belarus works at such a pace that the list must have hundreds of Belarusian names alone, let alone international artists.
In each case, up to a certain point, the lists of unwanted artists included a certain element of state creativity. Officials ignored them in public, so the musicians were completely dependent on force majeure: the lights suddenly went out in the club or the roof leaked. Now there is an official wording of the Ministry of Culture, voiced by Anatol Markievič: “Traitors have no place on the stage”. It is not clear what “treason” is in the understanding of an official and how this wording looks on paper. But it is clear that this is an important statement and the actual and final legitimization of the existence of black lists, banned artists and the total destruction of the independent scene.
Who is a traitor according to the authorities? This is an artist whose position somehow does not correspond to the general line of the party. It’s not even a band that came out to support an inconvenient candidate, and it’s not even a singer that joined the protests. Problems can arise even with the most herbivorous artists, if they have not expressed their thoughts completely unambiguously. As an example, there is a wave of hate towards the band Drazdy, which is currently touring Belarus: according to pro-government Telegram channels, Vital Karpanaŭ is not a loyal enough singer, and his posts on social networks are a hidden criticism of the Belarusian authorities. Sometimes it resembles a medieval witch hunt, a competition in an artistic display of loyalty, an act of creative suicide with patriotic smiles on their faces.
An ideal demonstration of the creative potential of official culture is the “Song of the Year” contest, which after a long break was revived in Belarus. The parade of achievements of the Ministry of Culture finally turned into a patriotic song contest with titles like “What have you done for the Motherland?” or “The truth is behind us”. At the same time, almost the main awards were given to songs written by a relative of Łukašenka. In fact, the official culture is engaged in corporate service, creates a cozy universe for a limited circle of persons belonging to the government.
An important quote from Markievič: “If a person sincerely repents of his words, posts, likes, is ready to work for the state and publicly declare their civic position, (s)he is given the second chance. If the words turn out to be lies, we say goodbye to such people once and for all”. At the same time, the official culture is not capable of constructing high-quality narratives, its creative and financial potential is very limited, and perhaps the only ambassador of the authorities of Belarus known to the mass audience is the rapper Siaroha. Official cultural management does not involve selection and funding, it is the ultimate form of management: loyalty or death.
The court of the Leninski district of Brest recognized the video clip and lyrics of the song Daj darohu! as extremist under the name “Extremist”. This is an elaborate demonstration of the paradoxical humour of the judicial system of Belarus, which strives to bring the extremist narrative to the absolute. From recent examples: the Karakin brothers from the band Litesound received 2.5 years of “house arrest”, approximately the same terms were awarded to their parents. And this is a very mild sentence according to the modern judicial system of Belarus.
The musicians of the band Irdorath, Uładzimir and Nadzieja Kałač, served the full term and were released. They spent 1 year, 8 months and 9 days behind bars. From the positive news, the singer Saša Zacharyk was released in the courtroom. It is reported that she was sentenced to a non-custodial sentence. Such news becomes more or less sensational in the merciless daily informational mourning.
It’s considered to be “Belarusian style” positive, a breath of fresh air in the prison.
Cultural landing force, studio searches, attempts at systematization
The Brownian motion of independent Belarusian culture in the underground and in exile arouses sporadic curiosity on the part of the listener. The listener gratefully attends well-known and beloved names every time, perceives new artists with polite caution and very quickly erases not very active musicians from memory. An example is the tour of Sviatłana Bień and Hala Čykis, which took place in a rather intimate format. The music poster in exile pulsates with well-known titles and does not give the listener the opportunity to learn about new names. Belarusian thematic Telegram channels and YouTube projects partially fulfill this educational goal, but this is poorly converted into sold tickets and constant interest from concertgoers.
An attempt to systematize the concert life of Belarusians in exile and draw attention to it is a new project by Alaksandr Bahdanaŭ and his team Belarus Outside Sound System. Alaksandr has opened new Belarusian music for Belarusians before but now he has a task of increased complexity because in addition cultural activism now exists in the conditions of a very limited audience.
Another important point from the modern reality: many artists now exist exclusively in the studio format, because they work remotely or do not have a concert lineup at all. At the same time, there are many interesting releases from Belarusian musicians. Let’s list some of them.
The most interesting debut of the year was recorded by the group The Tranzistorz. This is old-school punk rock, mixed with psychedelic and surf, and nihilistic and chthonic lyrics deconstruct familiar Minsk landscapes. There is so much primal energy and immediacy in this record, which is so lacking that you want to be at the band’s concert right now and break your legs in a frenzied slam.
It is worth noting the Hrodna doom metal band Woe Unto Me, which released an album on the American label M-Theory. The songs from “Along the Meandering Ordeals, Reshape the Pivot of Harmony” sometimes resemble a multi-coloured (naturally, the colours are the darkest) mosaic, but somehow they do not fall apart into small pieces but, on the contrary, are assembled into monumental compositions: here is a monotonous, gloomy funeral doom, and melodic interludes with clean vocals, and in places Woe Unto Me can even be confused with modern recordings of the cult Behemoth.
Ivan Kirčuk presented a new solo programme. The Troica band has ceased to exist, but Mr. Kirčuk continues to process his endless archives. “Varažbit” (“Fortune teller”) consists of 55 tracks: processed folk songs, original works, poems and even games. A two-hour ritual, a session of communication with ancestors, Belarusian national meditation for experienced listeners and neophytes.
“Zmaharski bubble” as a symbol of continuity of generations
This term was accidentally (or not accidentally) born during a discussion about modern music journalism, and it perfectly describes the paradigm of generational continuity in the Belarusian cultural environment. This phrase was used by the creator of the Telegram channel “Klik”, who writes about contemporary Belarusian pop music, and he referred to the work of Sviatłana Bień. Apparently, Bieńka lives in her “zmaharski [Belarusian protest warriors] bubble” and therefore has a very limited audience.
The narrative, once created by Belarusian propaganda, had to marginalize protest activism and make its ambassadors outsiders. And now it is used by a new generation of cultural activists. It is used in relation to creators who were once outside this artificial “bubble” and were not associated with “zmaharski” [Belarusian protest warriors] movement in any way.
It seems to perfectly describe the influence of Belarusian state propaganda on a young and even progressive audience, and this influence cannot be underestimated. This is how the independent Belarusian culture is marginalized. And this is how the cataloging of its possessions is segmented into “bubbles”.
And it’s also a gorgeous illustration of the lack of permanent communication between generations of cultural activists. As well as the systematization of narratives and achievements of Belarusian culture. Every five-year period, a new context and a new coordinate system are built. Each new project is an information point of reference for neophytes.
Conclusions
The legalization of blacklists and public statements by Łukašenka officials demonstrate the determination of the system but also finally define the rules of the game. The main one is that loyalty is higher than artistic value and professionalism.
The official culture is rapidly degrading and carries out regular negative selection by means of witch hunting. The most adapted or closest to state officials survive.
The mental distance between generations of cultural activists is increasing. It can be described by the term “zmaharski [Belarusian protest warriors] bubble”. What to do with it? Establish communication and ongoing discussion.
Belarusian protest warriors
