Star/ Red and Yellow Days

  Happy Belated 54th Birthday, Vitya!

  Yesterday, June 21st, in 1962, Viktor Robertovich Tsoi was born.                       

Were he alive today, he would have celebrated his 54th birthday yesterday.

For those unfamiliar with Tsoi, Tsoi was a rock composer and songwriter, frontman and founder of the Soviet Rock band,Kino (“Cinema” in Russian).

His poetic lyrics, often charged with political and social commentary criticizing the failing government, contemplating the depth of working-class struggles, or aptly articulating the emotional strains of complex relationships,  combined with his melancholic, richly layered melodies have secured him as a beloved icon in Russian (and various former Soviet Union countries) culture(s).

Typically, most rockers’ biographies consist of alcohol and drug-fueled lifestyles- as well as some embarrassing episodes of less than decent conduct.

However, Tsoi proved atypical with his calm, quiet nature. According to friends, he was decidedly shy, lacked talent to tell funny jokes, but preferred engaging in sports (karate).

Tsoi and his work exuded a sincerity and an insight much of the music world abroad lacked (and lacks).

ussia Beyond the Headlines:

Unlike other heroes of Russian underground rock music, he sang as if there had been nobody and nothing before him; as if he was singing for the first and last time. He was a figuratively naked person who inhabited a naked earth in a realm devoid of cultural context. Earth, sky, stars, sun, death, love, summer: these are the driving words of his songs. The context has died, changed and sunk into the past, but the words spoken by Tsoi ring true to this very day.

As journalist Brian Whitmore aptly attributed to Tsoi’s contribution to Soviet and post-Soviet culture:

Viktor Tsoi embodied late-Soviet cool before it was overtaken by post-Soviet kitsch and defined late-Soviet hip before it was overrun by post-Soviet glitz.

He epitomized late-Soviet sincerity before it gave way to post-Soviet cynicism and channeled late-Soviet angst before it morphed into post-Soviet nihilism.

Tsoi – who died in an automobile accident a quarter of a century ago, on August 15, 1990, at the tragically young age of 28 – would be in his 50s today.

We never got to see Tsoi in middle age. Like all iconic figures who die before their time, the trail-blazing Soviet rocker remains frozen in our minds: iconoclastic and irreverent, clad in black jeans and a T-shirt, a wild mane of black hair flopping in the breeze.

A guitar in his hand and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. Always a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Tsoi is a reminder of a more hopeful time – one that probably seems even more hopeful in retrospect. A time of introspection and anxiety, but also a time of promise. A time when anything and everything seemed possible.

Tsoi’s diligence in each performance proved genuine as well:

“For the most part, it doesn’t really matter to me where I’m playing: my apartment, an underground club, or a concert hall with 10,000 people,” Tsoi insisted. “If I have an opportunity to play, I play. If I don’t, I am ready to play free of charge. Right now I have an opportunity to play for big crowds. I’m taking advantage of this opportunity, but I know it won’t last forever. Either way, I’m doing what I love. Of course, I’m doing it so long as the circumstances allow me to, including the political climate in the country.”

Happy Birthday, Vitya.

May you be enjoying your day in the Great Beyond, sharing Port with Georgy Guryanov and Igor Talkov. May you and Talkov be collaborating up there, making more glorious music.

May you be enjoying your day in the great Beyond, exchanging Marlboros with (Ian) Curtis and learning to master nun-chucks from Bruce Lee.

*

_{*Referring to frontman of the band, Joy Division, whose moody, low-beats influenced Vitya’s latter works. Curtis, like Tsoi, smoked incessantly.(Curtis preferred Benson or Hedges brands, according to friends, Vitya enjoyed Marlboro brand)  Apparently, Vitya idolized Lee,  was fascinated and wanted to learn using nun-chucks. Never quite got the knack.}

Quotes from Viktor Tsoi:

• “You must be strong, otherwise why would you be?”
• “Everyone should do something that would distinguish it from the others. ”
• “I am a free man because I’m always doing what I like and do not do what you do not want.”
• “People can not think alike, but to understand each other’s need. Then, they are people.”
• “I am alone, but that does not mean that I’m lonely.”

The title and color scheme is derived from two of Tsoi's song, "Star"("Звезда") and "Red and Yellow Days" ("Красно-желтые дни").

Red and Yellow Days:

My train's stalled in the depot

Time has come - I'm departing again

The wind 's blowing while waiting for me

Autumn, sister of mine, is behind the door.

 

After the red and yellow days

The winter will begin and end

I've got my woe from wit once again

Don't be sad, keep going with a smile

And I will come back home

With a shield, or maybe on it

With some silver, or being in need

But as soon as I can

 

Tell me 'bout those who are tired

Due to ruthless street dramas

About the temple made of broken hearts

About those who are coming to it

 

After the red and yellow days

The winter will begin and end

I've got my woe from wit once again

Don't be sad, keep going with a smile

And I will come back home

With a shield, or maybe on it

With some silver, or being in need

But as soon as I can

 

I dreamed, I saw the Love that reigns

I dreamed, I saw the Dream that reigns

A star was shining brightly from the sky

I woke up understanding - it's grief...

 

After the red and yellow days

The winter will begin and end

I've got my woe from wit once again

Don't be sad, keep going with a smile

And I will come back home

With a shield, or maybe on it

With some silver, or being in need

But as soon as I can


Star:

The howling of wolves and the barking of dogs,
The fist is painfully tight,
Blood beats in the veins like a bird,
Faith, hope and love.
Thousands of hands go up,
And our flag flies high.
The blue sky and the circle of the sun,
Everything is in place, but there is something wrong.
 
A star shines above us in the sky,
Nobody except it can help us,
In the dark, dark, dark night.
 
Night fell and the storm came,
The sad rain and wind joker.
Hands in pockets, looking down
And the mum.
Oh, melancholy gnaws at me,
My faithful friend.
Wood walks up, singing and dancing,
I am still with you.
 
A star shines above us in the sky,
Nobody except it can help us,
In the dark, dark, dark night.