Want to dance jigs and reels, experience a proper appreciation of Irish history and literature, and hear our language spoken with enthusiasm? If so, Moscow's the place. DIARMAID FLEMINGreports on an unlikely cultural invasion
THE FLOOR is heaving as a huge crowd dances in front of the musicians on stage, who are blasting out jigs and reels as if in Co Clare. But this is downtown Moscow, and everyone is Russian.
An Irish cultural wave is sweeping the city, and it’s all the more remarkable for being all-Russian. At its centre is a man who speaks more Irish than many of the Irish themselves, so much so that he now makes his living teaching the language to other Russian Hibernophiles in the city.
“It is a movement here of Irish culture, a gluaiseacht,” says Yuri Andreichuk, a sean-nós-singing bodhrán player. “There is a closeness in the mentality of the Irish and the Russians. Our peoples shared similar experiences in the past, a history of struggle for ordinary folk, and a strong rural tradition too. So in Irish traditional culture, we find very big similarities and resonances.”
A linguist, Andreichuk taught himself Irish while at Moscow State University. He read textbooks, hunted down any Irish speakers who happened to be staying in the Russian capital, and used the internet and Irish- language media. He made his first visit to Ireland in 2009, years after he’d mastered the language.
Moscow boasts incredible riches in music and dance across all genres, a legacy in part of the Soviet system which showcased the arts, but also an expression of Russia’s deep artistic soul and spirit through the ages. But Andreichuk says his country’s native folk tradition is today in deep trouble, with a combination of urban migration and pop culture corroding its roots. While Ireland has faced these challenges too, Andreichuk believes Irish traditional arts are in robust shape.
“Russian traditional culture is almost dead, yet the Irish have a vibrant, living tradition,” he says. “Russians almost cannot believe how a traditional culture can be so alive. Many Russian people feel a spiritual need and have a hunger for such a living, unbroken tradition, and Irish culture has an almost exotic quality for us.”
Irish history, too, evokes sympathy, he adds, the nation’s struggle seen by Russians as a story of endurance and spirit in adversity, of which Irish culture is the emotional expression. Add mythology, literature and the scenic romance of Ireland’s poignant setting at the far end of Europe and, for some Russians, it’s an irresistible mix.
MUSICAL EXCELLENCEis no surprise in Russia, but what is remarkable about those playing Irish music in Moscow is their perfect replication of the traditional style. Some are already master instrumentalists in other idioms, but only immersion and deep study could produce such piping or fiddling from musicians who, mostly, have never been to Ireland or have made only a single trip.
Playing just four years after first hearing Davy Spillane on CD, the self-taught Alexander Karavaev’s smooth open-piping style is of the highest standard. “When I heard this music it touched something deeply in my heart,” he says. “I can find myself, my feelings, my way of thinking in this music. I live in this music and live by this music.”
Already an accomplished wind instrumentalist, Karavaev says musicians – as is customary in Russia – must have intense devotion to their art. “You have to give your life to an instrument. It is the only way.”
He devours recordings to learn tunes, and has built up personal contacts with top pipers such as Paddy Keenan and Mick O’Brien, both of whom have been to Russia. He also met others, such as Gay McKeown and Leo Rickard, through Na Píobairí Uilleann on his only trip to Ireland, last year. There is enough interest in playing the pipes now to support a pipe-maker in the city.
With music comes dance and, across the city, many Russians attend Irish dancing classes weekly, with regular competitions and céilís. Around 12 Irish dancing schools in Moscow have more than 1,000 formally registered dancers, more of whom seem to have visited Ireland to learn dancing than their musical colleagues. The schools are run by Russians, but with assistance from visiting Irish experts, says Irish dance maestro Alexey Popov.
“I loved the music but then fell in love with the dancing. It’s sincere and energetic, and when you hear this music, you just want to dance,” he says. “There’s a place for everyone, regardless of ability. The beauty is that it is easy to start, but there’s depth there. You can go deeper and deeper, and express yourself – but above all it’s done in an atmosphere of fun, the ‘craic’, as you say.”
Like the musicians, many dancers are already expert in other idioms, such as ballet, from their country’s own rich tradition, leading to extraordinary levels of performance. Michael Flatley and Riverdance swelled the Russian Irish-dancing ranks, admits Popov, but he says it’s just one reason: a vibrant sean-nós dance scene suggests others are searching for tradition.
“Flatley brought Irish dancing to a wide audience, and made a fashion of it. We get lots of Russians coming in saying they want to dance like him. We do our best,” says Popov with a smile.
Andreichuk’s first trip to Ireland last year was undertaken with the aim of improving his sean-nós singing, but he was also planning to bring more Irish music to Moscow.
“I met Joe Burke, the great accordionist, by chance, and Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann, too, seemed amazed when I told them the massive interest in Irish culture in Russia. Nobody in Ireland seemed to know,” he says.
His zeal persuaded Burke and his wife, Ann, to come to play in Moscow, followed by a Comhaltas group of musicians and dancers led by Seán Ó Sé, once singer with Seán Ó Riada’s Ceoltóirí Chualann.
Both concerts sold out, with crowds of around 500 giving the visitors a thunderous reception.
The accordion is revered in Russian culture, and the Burkes went down a storm. “I didn’t expect there was anything like the interest there is in Irish music in Moscow. The audience was very receptive and warm. And while I knew people had heard of our music, I didn’t believe there was a whole community of musicians who’ve taken our music on as their own, musicians of wonderful skill and understanding of what the music is all about,” says Joe.
Ó SÉ SAIDthe Comhaltas trip was unfinished business: a trip to Moscow with Seán Ó Riada was abandoned after the Soviet suppression of the Prague uprising in 1968, the ensemble's music having become popular on Radio Moscow on the recommendation of the Irish communist leader, the late Michael O'Riordan.
The depth of interest in Irish music Ó Sé found when he finally got to Moscow amazed him. Before going onstage, he was asked by a Russian fan to sign the sleeve of a 40-year-old vinyl copy of the seminal LP, Ó Riada sa Gaiety. A response akin to an eruption followed his first song, applause repeated throughout the evening for the group, whose trip was entirely funded by Comhaltas.
“It was probably the biggest applause in 50 years of singing I have ever received. I was completely overcome,” says Ó Sé. “I have rarely seen an audience so totally focused on the performance of everybody. There was a tremendous intensity from the crowd . . . It certainly drags the best out of you. I still feel Ó Riada’s presence, and felt him with me in Moscow. He was with us.
“The Gaiety concert with Ó Riada was a transformation for me. But Moscow, all those years later, was the same. I never expected that I’d experience a night like it again, but I did in Moscow.”
While other Irish musicians, such as singer Andy Irvine have made the trek, Irish performers are rare in Moscow. Andreichuk dreams of an Irish arts festival in the city, but funding is needed. “Culture is a bridge between our peoples, which we are building . . . There can be few other places in the world where local people want and love Irish culture with such intensity.”
