Vladimir Vysotsky's guitar strings were silenced tragically early when the overstretched strings of his heart gave out 16 years ago. At the age of 42 he was destroyed physically by heavy drinking and psychologically by an oppressive government.Russia has not forgotten her rebellious son who voiced truths about Soviet life which others stifled with hypocrisy, and next week Vysotsky's birthday will be commemorated on the St Petersburg stage.
"The Time of Vysotsky" is a production which was developed in January 1995 by students from St Petersburg's Theatrical Academy. Their tutor, Valery Filshtinsky, an experienced local director, said the finished show was the result of a series of improvisations based on Vysotsky's poems and songs done in class as an exercise.
The students polished their most original ideas and took them on tour to Finland, Lithuania and an international film festival in Kaliningrad last year. Now "The Time of Vysotsky" is back home in St Petersburg in the building which houses the city's newest theater ("On the Kryukovoy Canal") -- a venue given to Mr Filshtinsky and his group for their own performances.
The tribute strives to reinforce Vysotsky's credentials as a great Russian folk poet in the tradition of Yesenin and Nekrasov.
"He's not retro," Mr Filshtinsky emphasized. "He understood the complexities of Russian history and the Russian national character. Maybe he's left us as a bard but he's only now coming to strength as a poet."
This view of Vysotsky as a poet more than a singer is not universally shared. Zhenya Shelkova, a postgraduate student of Celtic languages, is one of Vysotsky's most devoted admirers even though she was only six years old when he died. She said it was impossible for her to read his words without hearing the music which accompanies them in her head.
"I've known Vysotsky's music since the moment of my birth," Ms Shelkova claimed. "It was banned officially but in my parents' flat someone had got hold of a recording from somewhere. We had reel-to-reel tape players in those days."
News of Vysotsky's death filtered through the Olympic city of Moscow by word of mouth and huge crowds congregated illegally to pay him their last respects. The Soviet government's hostility towards him had not prevented him from becoming fantastically popular. A year earlier, in 1979, no mention was made of him in the Soviet Encyclopedic Dictionary, which purported to list the country's most important celebrities.
Vysotsky's French wife saved him from being arrested, according to Ms Shelkova. The Soviet authorities feared that she would have kicked up a fuss in the West. With typical disregard for reality, the government attempted to rewrite history after Vysotsky's death and lauded him as a national treasure. Ms Shelkova remembers going to a theatrical evening in Moscow on what would have been his 50th birthday, in 1988. Russian showbusiness stars lined up to heap praise on their "friend," whom they had abused in chorus when he was still alive.
"Our play is dedicated to freedom," said Mr Filshtinsky. "Vysotsky was the freest person in an unfree country. He has a song which begins, `OK, I'll be humble, but give me freedom,' and ends, `They gave me freedom yesterday, what am I going to do with it?' This question is especially relevant at the moment. Ten or 15 years ago it was obvious what the theater had to do -- fight Soviet power. Now we wonder what our purpose is."
Ms Shelkova said she was an "extraordinarily philosophical child" and was deeply influenced by Vysotsky. She had a favorite song for every mood and became close friends with other children because they also loved Vysotsky. She is also a Rolling Stones fan, but no Western group is comparable to her hero. "I don't think there's any other singer whose words were THAT important," she said.
Vysotsky's early, military songs are popular among the older generation of Russians. Ms Shelkova is much more keen on his later sad songs with a message. She mentioned "Inokhodyets" ("The Ambler"), written in 1970, about a winning racehorse who can't stand the restriction of a saddle and bridle and throws off his jockey, saying he is only prepared to run bareback.
Unlike his singing, Vysotsky's acting was approved by the Soviet government and one of his films was shown regularly on television, "The Meeting Place Cannot Be Changed," in which he played a police investigator. On the stage where "The Time of Vysotsky" will be performed, he starred in Shakespeare's "Hamlet."
"The Time of Vysotsky" will examine the man behind the
legend.
