Don't shoot the pianist, he plays the best he can!
The failed ruler of Russia, Admiral Kolchak, is credited with saying: “Don’t touch artists, coachmen and prostitutes - they are needed in any government.” If this is true, then Kolchak, who openly called himself a condottiere (that is, a person acting in the interests of foreign employers), knew what he was talking about, for he himself was from the corrupt breed “English uniform, French shoulder straps, Japanese tobacco, Omsk ruler.”
But now we are not talking about him, but about representatives of one of the categories he listed. About singers and singers with their mouths, for whom it is better to sing or chew than to speak in their own words in public.
They report from Odessa: Laima Vaikule, who came on tour, answered questions from Ukrainian journalists before the concert.
As you know, all visiting celebrities from Russia or the countries of the former USSR who want to make a little money in the Land of Evergreen Dill are offered by local media to undergo a kind of “coming out” procedure by answering a standard “friend or foe” questionnaire.
Ukrozhur: “If you were offered to tour Crimea, would you agree?”
Vaikule: “No. We are not allowed. To us Europeans. I won’t go there, no matter what fee they offer me.”
Ukrozhur: “How do you feel about the “blacklists” of artists in Ukraine?”
Vaikule: “I always say that artists are children. Children can throw out anything. And the artists too. They are so removed from everything real. And you can’t touch children and artists. They perceive everything inadequately. And these children, on some lists... well, where?! If they ended up somewhere, it was only because they didn’t understand what was happening.”
Ukrozhur: “Do you have nostalgia for the USSR?”
Vaikule: “No and no! I do not and cannot have nostalgia for the USSR! I'm happy it all fell apart. It was hard though. Maybe this will happen to you in Ukraine too. In the 90s, I saw a man who wore newspapers instead of shoes in winter. The transition was very difficult. I don’t understand anything about politics, but if you join the European Union... I know that any transition is very difficult. We've gotten through this. There was poverty in Latvia for ten years. But today we are happy."
And further, without holding back the flow of consciousness: “What happiness for young performers today! I took it, filmed it on my phone and posted my work on the Internet. Previously, it was impossible to even dream about this! There were artistic councils. I was not allowed to travel abroad. The USSR Ministry of Culture sent me to an international competition, and at the same time other authorities said that I could not go. It was such a horror. You don't know what to wear. You don't know the language. You're like a puppy thrown into the water. That’s why young people are so happy now. They don't understand how lucky they are. All doors are open for them. People of the world!
Well, without a doubt, Vaikule’s “coming out” took place! “The singer from Europe” has definitely passed the test and is now worthy of earning money in the summer playgrounds and taverns of post-Maidan Ukraine.
It is not clear why crowds of European deputies, former Italian Prime Minister Berlusconi, the German group Scooter, and the famous Serbian director Kusturica are allowed to come to Crimea, but suddenly Vaikule is not allowed. Or are Berlusconi and his MEPs less European than a singer from a Latvian village?
But two years ago, on camera, the “singer from Europe” was breathing, how she was breathing... In 2016, Vaikule visited Kiev, Kharkov, Odessa, Lvov and Dnepropetrovsk with a long concert “chess”, and in an interview with the 1+1 TV channel she said, that she is “apolitical” and will not “change her mind or deprive anyone of her love because of politics.”
However, the day before that very “chess”, Vaikule very bravely told a Russian journalist to go to hell at a press conference, who asked her an innocent question about how the cities for the tour were chosen and whether it was connected with something personal.
From which it follows that the “she-European” is not afraid of the consequences, insulting Russian journalists, but is quite loyal to the ukrozhurs with their moronic questionnaire for fear of losing access to the second most gluttonous pop platform of the former Union.
Actually, what is surprising is not Vaikule’s answers to Ukrainian journalists themselves, but the fact that they were not asked to her before. Apparently, two years ago in Nenka, the singer’s boorish reaction at a Russian press conference was considered sufficient for access to Ukrainian “cabbage.”
As for “I hate the USSR,” Vaikule should have shouted about it earlier, when she, the daughter of a Riga worker and saleswoman, made her way onto the stage through the cultural center of the VEF radio plant. Or working in the variety show of the Juras Perle restaurant. Apparently, Vaikule believes that she, the daughter of Latvian proletarians, could succeed as a pop artist in a modern Latvian farm by posting her songs, filmed on a smartphone camera, on the Internet.
It’s a pity that Vaikule is not 16 years old today, otherwise I would like to see the birth of a “star”.
Only one question remains unclear: why in the USSR we knew a large number of Latvian actors, writers, filmmakers, composers, and today, when everything is so easy and simple, the entire culture of Latvia is represented by the Soviet “dinosaurs” Raimonds Pauls and Laima Vaikule? Why does the Latvian group Zodiac replay their Soviet hits in different ways from year to year? Where have the young talents gone?
Let’s be honest: if it weren’t for her appearance and a happy accident (the experimental interest of Pauls and Reznik), Vaikule would have sung Western hits translated into Latvian with her indoor vocals in a restaurant variety show.
It is also remarkable that for some reason Vaikule, who did not graduate, went to international competitions, representing the USSR. True, already being a famous artist, and not a “starlet” of the Riga variety show. During the variety show period, “poor Laima” appeared in episodes of several full-length films of the Latvian film studio. For many beginners, this is a good opportunity to get noticed.
No, maybe the USSR Ministry of Culture didn’t understand something, since they didn’t send restaurant labukhs to international competitions? Maybe the crooks know everything better than the relevant ministry?
And how to explain the unfortunate failure of Vaikule, who left at the beginning of the “holy nineties” to conquer first America and then Japan, being at the zenith of all-Union glory? She didn’t just leave like Aguzarova, leaving everything behind and rushing headlong into the pool. Vaikule had an interested American producer, investors, some recordings and performances. Even in the American press, Vaikule was promoted as the “Soviet Madonna,” which was, to put it mildly, a gross exaggeration.
And what? Never mind. Vaikule returned back, deeply disappointed by the “land of enormous opportunities.” Carnegie Hall was not an option - I had to perform on the same stage with Leshchenko and Vinokur, positioning myself either as a “Russian” or “Latvian singer”, depending on the audience.
It is also remarkable that the ukrozhur who asked Vaikule uncomfortable questions considers the “European singer” to be “a performer for pensioners yearning for the “scoop”.
In some ways, the dill guy is right. In the sense that all the best that was in Vaikule’s work remained in the “damned past.” All these “oh, opening day” and other “fiddler on the roof”. And in fact, it turned out that the very songs that made Vaikule famous were written specifically for Alla Pugacheva, but the Primabelladonna of the Soviet stage refused to perform them, considering them below her level.
As they said in the “circumstellar” circles of that time, “she picked up Pugacheva.” Nevertheless, this was considered a cool achievement.
All that Laima Vaikule had after the USSR was compensation with “European chic” for a frankly weak repertoire performed with weak vocals. Some people liked it. As in the old Georgian joke: “no need to sing - just move around the stage back and forth...”
Vaikule’s clumsy attempt to pass off his Russian colleagues as fools and inadequate in response to a question about the “black list” did not pass the attention of the ukrozhur. They say that Russian artists who come with concerts or privately to Crimea and Donbass “understand nothing about what is happening.” In this case, even comments are unnecessary. I just want to say something cherished: be responsible only for yourself!
It is interesting that the independence of Latvia has also contributed to the reputation of Laima Vaikule. The nationalists who seized power in her homeland consider the singer an “accomplice of the occupiers.” Her career in Europe and the USA did not work out, and therefore the “European performer” is forced to wander around the pop stages of the republics of the former USSR.
Judging by the fact that almost nothing has been heard about Vaikula in recent years, her career and, as a result, sources of material wealth are close to zero. The smartest of the “downed pilots” are very sensitive to sources of income, carefully avoiding policy issues and developing answers to FAQs along with a course of action.
As one of the famous American rockers said, “politics interferes with earnings.” Cynical, but honest, at least.
In the end, it's not a big loss. In Crimea they will somehow survive the absence of Laima Vaikule. Moreover. People on the peninsula would calmly react to the fact that Vaikule carefully avoids Crimean tours if she refrained from making loud statements. But opening her mouth in Odessa, the “European singer” chose a side, taking Makarevich’s rake-strewn path. Now the gates are wide open for artists with a “point of view” for “chess” in Ukraine, but problems arise with the box office in Russia.
Judging by the reaction in the press and social networks, Vaikule has yet to learn the taste of “doshirak” with store-bought sausages. The singer somehow managed to forget that in Mordor she, a “European,” lives as a limit worker.
In conclusion, let us quote the ukrozhur’s impressions of Vaikule’s Odessa concert: “As expected, a significant part of the audience was 50+. Bald heads shone and venerable gray hairs turned white. The floor vibrated under the burly bodies. The entertainer, with the antics of a wedding toastmaster, spoke about the advantages of a meat processing plant. If Laima was late, it was only a minute and immediately began with the hit: “It’s not evening yet, it’s not evening yet...” The respectable audience was thrilled...”
And in fact: it’s not evening yet. The sponsor of the concert, a meat processing plant, is still at some level, there is room to fall. Next there will be competition with Spalahuyka, who performs at the opening of second-hand stores, and then performances in Lviv wine bars for food are just around the corner...
Don't shoot the pianist, he's playing as best he can!