Google is pretty much my go-to search engine, but not always. Yahoo Japan tends to be better when I need to search for things Japanese, while Yandex often has the edge for turning up useful items relating to Russian and Soviet culture. Often, the latter’s home page provides pleasant distraction with its teasers for videos of Soviet-era films and cartoons. One of them, specifically its editing and graphics, caught my eye a few days ago. Clicked the video, unmuted the sound, and was surprised to hear a cheerful rumba knocking out of my speakers. The film was Tri plyus dva (Three Plus Two), a bouncy Soviet romantic comedy from 1963. Who was the composer? None other than Andrei Volkonsky, the father of the Soviet Union’s serialist and early music movements!
The film, I learned, was enjoying the height of its success during a tense historical moment that resulted from Khrushchev’s notorious visit to the avant-garde art exhibition at the Manège in Moscow on December 1, 1963. Provoked into a public meltdown, the Soviet head of state accused the artists involved of being “goddamned pederasts,” and stormed out, effectively ending the “Thaw” period. As Volkonsky recalled:
I was the only non-visual artist who was mentioned during the teardown of the Manège exhibition. Karen Khachaturian was a CPSU organizer at the Union of Composers [of the USSR] and the first meeting [on the fallout from the exhibition] was about to be held by the Central Committee. Karen came up to me beforehand: “My apologies, but since I’m a party organizer, I’m going to have to reprimand you.” I asked him, “Why’d you go and become a party organizer?”
After the exhibition, I left for Riga. Karen called me there: “Come back immediately. There is going to be a meeting with Khrushchev himself.” I was on my way to Georgia and told him: “I can’t. The almonds are about to bloom in Georgia now, and I really need to see them.” Khrennikov then called me and I told him the same thing. They got real angry and canceled all my concerts. I was saved by the film Tri plyus dva, which was a runaway success, and even had a second run, so I was able to survive it all financially.[1]
None of this drama is apparent in the film and its music, all of which exudes the breezy optimism characteristic of the era that was quickly ending at the time of its release. Volkonsky did not escape his scolding, incidentally. He was fired from the Leningrad Philharmonic and had his career significantly curtailed; ten years later, he fled his homeland, as his parents had before him.[2]
Notes
[1]: Dubinets, Elena (2010). Князь Андрей Волконский. Партитура жизни [Prince Andrei Volkonsky: Score of Life] (in Russian). Moscow: Рипол-классик [Ripol-Classic]. ISBN 978-5-386-02153-5. Pages 129–130.
[2]: Volkonsky, Andrei; Kamm, Henry (June 5, 1973). “Composer Tells of Artistic Battle in Soviet”. New York Times. Page 14.