Жди меня...Wait for Me (Simonov)

Tomorrow, May 9th, is Victory Day in Russia, commemorating the Red Army's victory over Nazi Germany. It's like Memorial Day in the States times 50. The majority of the country will have Thursday and Friday off work and the list of events is unreal. Not to be left behind, we at the Bolshoi are doing our fair share to contribute and our Young Artist Programme will be doing a concert of popular songs from the war.

We had a private performance of this concert today with several army officials present and it was my first time hearing the project. (Not surprisingly I was not picked to oversee the concert of Russian war tunes). It was stunning and yet another insight to the beautiful Russian culture.

As I listened to the war songs and watched the video display, I was touched. But tears came to my eyes when I saw the reactions around me. You see, while war songs often may seem like patriotic propaganda, the truly beautiful ones are far more. They don't express patriotism, but rather humanity. The emotions felt in times of suffering, sacrifice, and great loss are universal. The horror of war and the reality of its effects on individuals can be understood by all, regardless of nationality.

One of the program numbers, this beautiful tune and its text have been haunting me since hearing...LISTEN!!! You won't regret it. The poem, "Wait for me", is by poet Konstantin Simonov, and unfortunately I wasn't able to find an English translation that I liked...as it turns out it's seriously difficult to do a good rhyming translation! So, here I offer my own, rhyme-less version. Somehow less seems lost and, while it's far from professional or smooth, I hope you can see through the flaws to the beauty of these words.

Жди меня, и я вернусь.
Только очень жди,
Жди, когда наводят грусть
Желтые дожди,
Жди, когда снега метут,
Жди, когда жара,
Жди, когда других не ждут,
Позабыв вчера.
Жди, когда из дальних мест
Писем не придет,
Жди, когда уж надоест
Всем, кто вместе ждет.

Жди меня, и я вернусь,
Не желай добра
Всем, кто знает наизусть,
Что забыть пора.
Пусть поверят сын и мать
В то, что нет меня,
Пусть друзья устанут ждать,
Сядут у огня,
Выпьют горькое вино
На помин души...
Жди. И с ними заодно
Выпить не спеши.

Жди меня, и я вернусь,
Всем смертям назло.
Кто не ждал меня, тот пусть
Скажет: - Повезло.
Не понять, не ждавшим им,
Как среди огня
Ожиданием своим
Ты спасла меня.
Как я выжил, будем знать
Только мы с тобой,-
Просто ты умела ждать,
Как никто другой.

Wait for me and I'll return.
Only, really wait.
Wait when yellow rains
Bring sadness,
Wait when snow flies,
Wait through the heat,
Wait when others don't wait,
Forgetting yesterday.
Wait when from far-off places
Letters don't come.
Wait when all who are waiting together grow weary.

Wait for me, and I'll return.
Don't wish well to those who know by heart,
That it's time to forget.
Let mother and son believe
That I am gone.
Let friends grow tired of waiting,
sit by the fire,
And drink bitter wine
in the soul's remembrance.
Wait. And together with them
Don't hurry to drink.

Wait for me and I'll return,
In spite of all the deaths.
He who didn't wait for me, then let say:
"He had some luck."
They won't understand, having not waited for them,
How from amidst the fire
With your waiting
You saved me.
How I survived, we will know,
Only you and I -
You simply were able to wait
Like no other.

Happy Victory Day Celebrations to those in Russia. And to all of us...happy remembering. Here's to humanity!

Stop and Smell the Roses

C’est un métier que j’ai appris dans ma jeunesse… quand j’étais malheureux… Je dois peut-être aux fleurs d’avoir été peintre.
~Monet

I love flowers. And I love French. Combine the two with a dash of Monet and it's parfait. When I was twelve, I had a corner of our backyard designated as my flower garden. On my first trip to Washington DC, I purchased some flower seeds from Mt. Vernon and couldn't have been more excited about a souvenir. (I purchased = "my parents purchased" for a 12-year-old). And while I have not had a flower garden or even a house plant since, I still fall for flowers. Luckily, they're a thriving part of the Russian culture and after two concerts this week, I have a lovely bouquet on my kitchen table. In a totally classy plastic Pepsi bottle vase. (Unfortunately/Fortunately shrouded in the picture below).

But while I may have flowers, I'm missing a piece of my 12-year-old self. I had two gorgeous bouquets in my apartment last week, and while I remember walking into my apartment one evening and smelling that it was time to throw them out (gross...I know), I don't actually remember ever smelling them. Or really even giving them a second glance. Except to avoid tripping over the bouquet I strategically placed on the floor. Slightly pathetic, no?

I don't need to go back to the 12-year-old Stephanie who likely sang and talked to her flowers...I sing and talk to myself and others all day...but since when did life get too busy to take a minute and inhale the amazing scent that has made me smile so many times before? And how did I manage to go an entire week without really even seeing them?

Life is full, when I'm optimistic. Other days it's just flat out overwhelming. But a little reminder to slow the pace ever so slightly never hurts, and I'm going to use this round of roses as a healthy little reminder of perspective, balance, and simple enjoyment.

With yet another concert wrapped up, I'm hoping a slightly revised schedule will also aid in this week's quest. Tonight was our last of this series, and I'm looking forward to moving on to some new repertoire, new challenges, and new discoveries. A musical change of scenery, if you will. Although this scene looked pretty great, even from backstage.

While I didn't catch the view before they dimmed the lights, it's always slightly exhilarating seeing a theater from this perspective.

And while the music and art might be performed on stage, the dressing rooms (which have doubled as coaching studios in more than one company I've worked for) are often where the real discoveries are made.

So, after a brief pictorial detour, I'd like to invite you to treat yourself to some roses this week. Be they literal or figurative...I recommend both...it can only add to the beauty that is already your life!

An Expat Vacation

On occasion it happens that you get a call from your company. Asking if you would like to fly to San Francisco (Translate: AMERICA!) for a few days to play a concert. And on occasion it happens that you ECSTATICALLY agree. And head to the airport less that 48 hours later.

Here's to light packing for an international flight, unexpected access to chocolate chips and Thanksgiving feast supplies, and hunting down a piano in San Fran ASAP. This girl's got to learn some music.

I'll send you all a postcard!

Xoxo,

SR

Moscow Never Sleeps

Right about now I'm starting to enjoy simple things. Especially things like short words, easy memorization...basically, anything but Russian. So when I was introduced to this song last night, I found it quite appealing.

The lyrics:

Moscow never sleeps.
Я люблю тебя! (I love you)

The End.



Keepin' it real. Real simple.

Whether or not you think this song is the coolest thing you've ever heard, where I heard it was pretty fantastic. Check it out.

The arts might not have been a very lucrative career choice (a quick glimpse at my current hostel/eclectic grocery collection would assure you of that), BUT I did land myself a set of friends that tend to have hookups. I try and return the favor when possible. Here in Moscow I have approximately 1 friend at the moment, but he happens to be a musician. Who works for the government. (The latter being particularly useful in this country). Cue great tickets to the War Music Festival concert on Red Square. With a complimentary blanket to ward off the chill.

The festival is part of the commemoration of the bicentennial of Napoleon's defeat in 1812. Military bands from several countries performed, offering up their national music and typically playing a Russian tribute as well (hence Moscow Never Sleeps). While there was no US delegation they did give us a nod musically. What with? Darth Vader's theme song. And Indiana Jones. I have to admit, I giggled. The tunes juxtaposed against the Red Square backdrop just didn't quite fit. Loved it.

It was a surreal evening I have to say. Walking around with a Houston friend in Moscow, taking in this amazing city, and then realizing its mine. It's not just a 10-day holiday, or even a month-long visit. For better and worse...and trust me, I'm feeling both...for now it's home.