Like all popular music groups, the Jukebox Trio has its own successful formula. Presenting a rich mix of classic covers and original material in an open, friendly, accessible style – with two singers and a human beatbox – it’s hard not to enjoy the experience of seeing them play.

“I don’t know any other a cappella bands with only three people,” says lead singer Vladimir Ivanov. “Usually they have six, but we cut it down to the main things: bass, rhythm and melody. And actually, that’s all you really need in music.” Clever live sampling techniques are also often used to create layered, harmonised soundscapes that give the impression of more voices.

The group formed in 2004, when brothers Vladimir and Ilya Ivanov met Kirill Sharafutdinov at a vocal studio where they learned jazz and funk fundamentals. “We had mutual interests, we were listening to a lot of the same music – Bobby McFerrin, Take 6, Queen, The Beatles. It’s different music but we like it all,” explains Vladimir.

At live shows, this diversity is evident. Re-worked Elvis Presley hits, silky Bossa Nova ballads and sermonising soulful serenades are all on the agenda. The penultimate track on the Trio’s debut album, Acappellipsis, features a list of influential artists: names as varied as Ozzy Ozbourne, John Coltrane, Jimi Hendrix and the Chemical Brothers are recited in comically exaggerated Russian accents.

However, copies of the CD are somewhat hard to come by. “We decided not to sell the album in shops, it’s only available at our concerts,” says Vladimir. Why? “It’s a big problem to make a good production with Russian record labels. They are really down now.” He also cites the mercenary nature of the country’s music industry as something the group wants to avoid. “Radio stations and TV channels play everything just for money, apart from maybe Western musicians – mainstream stuff. If you want to be big in Russia, you have to pay.

“The most important thing with Jukebox Trio is that, at first, it wasn’t for money – simply for pleasure. When we started to earn money with the music, it was a bonus. And that’s still the order of priorities.”

The fickle nature of the scene in their home city, Kazan, was another obstacle the group strove to overcome. “The funny thing about Kazan is that, as it’s the capital of Tatarstan, the Tatar public tend to like mostly Tatar singers. We were like some kind of circus for them. Breaking onto Moscow stages in 2006 was a really big step for us – people started to say we were musicians and not just a circus, we were getting real respect,” says Vladimir.

A subsequent string of gigs around Russia earned Jukebox many fine reviews, as well as a prize from pop heroine Alla Pugacheva and the chance to open Elton John’s show in Rostov-on-Don. They are already writing for a third CD, which will come after an album comprising cover versions of well-known Russian rock songs.

Ilya Ivanov, the Trio’s rhythmic engine, is optimistic about future prospects. “We’re hoping to collaborate with a suitable record label, which can help us produce great albums.” And in the long term, he makes no secret of lofty ambitions: “We want to become famous and be like rock stars all over the world – at least like The Beatles! I want to travel and perform in many different countries. And I think it is really possible, because I believe in the power of music.”

The Jukebox Trio take music down to its basic elements, focusing on the purity and versatility of the human voice – no instruments required. An online video for their song ‘So… Let Me Know’ emphatically illustrates this concept, as the group are shown smashing guitars into splinters at the tune’s climax. Don’t expect that to happen at every show, but, as Vladimir says, “you’ll be put in a good mood”.


Published in The Moscow Times, 9/6/09 - click here for original.

“I always wanted to be a cosmonaut,” states Fyodor Yurchikhin without hesitation. “When I was a small boy, I jumped from a second floor balcony because I thought I was Gagarin! My father jumped after me, it all happened very fast, and luckily we were both OK.”

Born in January 1959, Yurchikhin grew up during the heyday of the Soviet space programme. Yuri Gagarin’s maiden flight in 1961 held mythical significance: “When we played in our yard, we would pretend to be Russian cosmonauts,” he recounts. “We knew all their names and I can’t tell you how much it meant to us. Gagarin was more than a name. For us, what he did was something like the impossible. He was an icon, a symbol – ‘Wow, Gagarin!’”

Yurchikhin’s face still glows with childlike enthusiasm as he talks, springing up to illustrate the balcony scenario or act out the process of spacewalking. His two missions to the International Space Station, in 2002 and 2007, amount to over 200 days, with nearly 19 hours working in open space.

“My first time on the ISS, the biggest problem was orientation. There’s no gravity, everything is floating around; until you adjust to that, you have to move very slowly, holding onto things.”

“When I first looked down out at the earth, I realised it’s impossible to understand this view from pictures. It’s black of course, but when you get there you see it’s not a normal black – it has infinite depth. I wanted to touch the colours, they are so bright and clear. No photos can convey the beauty of that sight.”

Nevertheless, Yurchikhin keenly uses orbital photography to spread his ideals for the future of humanity. His work has been exhibited around Russia[?]. “The name of my gallery is ‘Our House on Earth,’ because everybody should understand it’s very small. Yes, very big for us, but in reality very small. You need to keep your house clean and beautiful, we need to understand this; otherwise, we may destroy the house. It’s terrible.”

He applies this approach to both environmental and social concerns, as well as international relations. “People need to understand each other. We need to stop settling problems with weapons and war. It’s quite probable there is life on other planets. I think contact could be valuable for both sides if we understand and respect each other. But this doesn’t happen on earth, a planet where people have been living together for thousands of years.”

“I think the international space programme can be used as a model for the future: many different countries, different languages and different levels of technology all working together. America and Russia in particular have very different ways of thinking. For example, there’s an old joke that when the Americans found it was a problem to write in space, they spent a million dollars to invent a special space pen. The Russians used pencils!”

Yurchikhin picks a potent analogy to look at these varying national standards. In the first class at school, children arrive knowing different things. Even if some start off being able to count higher numbers, for example, this doesn’t mean they’ll finish in first place. “I don’t know how we will graduate the ISS school. Russia and America too should understand we are all still in school, we must continue and share knowledge.”

“If we’re doing complex work in a difficult area, like cosmic research, it is very useful to work with others. Views can become clouded. Including different people can bring new perspectives to old problems.”

Looking to the future, Yurchikhin believes the next step is colonisation. “We should go to a planet, build something and live there. The moon should come first, then possibly Mars. We should also continue developing ideas for a new spacecraft.”

On April 12, Russian Cosmonauts’ Day, the Memorial Museum of Cosmonautics opened its refurbished doors in northeast Moscow. It is situated beneath a towering, angular monument with a soaring rocket at the peak. More than 3,000 exhibits include a life-size replica of the space station Mir, Gagarin’s legendary orange spacesuit and all kinds of lunar vehicles – in short, a fascinating stroll through Russian space history.

“It’s a good idea,” says Yurchikhin. “I hope lots of kids will go. I love meeting children who have this dream, just like I did. Maybe now more people will talk about cosmonautics as well – it’s not as popular as it used to be.”

Again emphasising the spirit of unity he so desires, Yurchikhin remains an optimist at heart. “For a while I wanted the Russian space programme to be number one, but perhaps now we should change our minds now. It’s better if our national programme is part of a wider international project. Being first isn’t important. We’re all going to fly into space together.”

“Going to space, every one of us went as a patriot of our own country. But we came back as patriots of our earth.”

RIR Dossier
Fyodor Nikolaevich Yurchikhin was born on 3/1/1959 in the autonomous Republic of Ajara, Georgia. On graduating high school in 1976, he entered the Moscow Aviation Institute. He qualified as a mechanical engineer in 1983 and joined Energia, the Russian Space Corporation, where he rose to the position of lead engineer. In November 1999 he completed his basic cosmonaut training course. In January 2000, he started training for the ISS programme. In October 2002, Yurchikhin flew aboard STS-112; his first space flight logged a total of 10 days, 19 hours, and 58 minutes. His second flight, in April 2007, was a 197-day tour of duty commanding the Expedition-15 mission aboard the ISS. He was honoured as a Hero of Russia on October 23, 2008. Yurchikhin also holds a PhD in economics and enjoys reading, sports, stamp-collecting and space history.


Published in Russia Now / Russia & India Report, March 2009, with The Economic Times (India)...

From hard bop to the new school, jazz has found a haven in post-communist Russia.

Moscow's jazz scene is a creature of many faces. Take the comical shenanigans of one big band in a dive of an expat bar, with all members clad in matching mustard-yellow tassled jackets and an old hippy guitarist who looks (and probably thinks) like he's still in the Swinging 60s, or a pastiche Cuban group belting out Santana covers to an empty room. Contrast that with heavy-hitters like saxophonist Igor Butman, a popular figure who cut his teeth in the US for a decade, or Alex Rostotsky, an electric bass player whose latest CD features adventurous adaptations of works by Modest Mussorgsky. Right down to a highly flamboyant yet equally creative acapella vocal trio called Jukebox, it's all here.

According to Cyril Moshkov, editor of jazz.ru, Russia's only jazz magazine, there are about 1,000 jazz players in the city (official population 10.5 million – in reality it's more). They fall into three generations: the old guard, who favour austere hard bop and other mainstream styles; the middlemen, now in their 30s and 40s, 80% of whom left Russia to pursue careers abroad (interestingly, many went to Israel); and, finally, the young cats, still paying their dues and finding a way into the murky world of jazz music.

Russia's first jazz concert took place in October 1922 at the behest of Valentin Parnakh, an enigmatic all-rounder who wrote poetry, choreographed ballet and played piano. He brought the first jazz records and instruments to the country from Paris. The music was thereafter repressed in various ways throughout the Soviet Union – including the period of Butman's emergence in the 70s and 80s, when non-state-sanctioned concerts could see musicians or promoters locked up. During jam sessions with visiting American groups, Russians played with their foreign peers but were not allowed to exchange words. Government inspectors would ensure two violations resulted in dismissal from the state booking agency, which provided musicians with all their work.

Much has changed since those dark days. One look at the monthly gig listings on jazz.ru's information portal will show abundant choices any given night – and not only local groups, but a host of international names as well. Tessa Souter, a British vocalist who lives in New York, recently played a couple of dates at the Union of Composers and was happy to sing the praises of her Russian backing band: "They were great. There's something different about the way Russians swing, it's wonderful. Musicians have a lot of soul like the Russian people."

Financial woe may have hit the country hard, but that hasn't stopped a new jazz club from popping up right in the historic centre of Moscow – the V&J, situated on Old Arbat, a popular tourist promenade. "People are becoming more interested in music and art, not material things, so I don't think the crisis makes a difference" says Victor Voitov, the V half of "V&J". "We wanted to open a place where Moscow's high-level musicians can let new people into jazz music."

Even after three months of pretty solid concertgoing, there's still a lot left for me to see.

Published @ guardian.co.uk, 29/4/09 - click here for original.

Hailed by none other than Bill Clinton as one of the world’s greatest living saxophone players, Igor Butman is an icon of Russian musical life. Born in St Petersburg in 1961, he took up the instrument at 15 with encouragement from his jazz aficionado father, a keen musician who worked by day and gigged by night.

“My father told me about jazz. I hadn’t actually heard much, because I’d been listening mostly to Soviet pop, but my dad was an amateur drummer and singer who often played at weddings and in restaurants,” Butman explains. “He was really the person who got me into jazz music, and music itself.”

Jazz in Russia goes back to the 1920s. According to Butman, it has been through various blurry periods of development, as well as confusion with classical music. The Soviet regime’s strict control of artistic liberty presented both opportunities and challenges: “As soon as I started playing sax, I was able to perform in jazz clubs around St Petersburg. I travelled with different groups to places like Moscow, Latvia, Lithuania and Ukraine, but I wasn’t allowed to go abroad because they thought I might escape.”

“In Soviet times, the state-owned booking agency would provide you with concerts – it didn’t matter if you sold out or had two people in the audience, they would still get you 14 concerts a month,” says Butman. However, despite supplying a steady stream of work, this closed system placed considerable constraints on creativity. “I put together my own band, but I couldn’t get a job because I wasn’t in the state booking agency. It wasn’t easy to get professional status and be able to travel. So I decided to go to the United States and try the normal way.”

In 1987, Butman arrived in Boston to study at the renowned Berklee College of Music. “I was already the best in the Soviet Union and I knew my limitations,” recalls the saxophonist. “I had to study, play and be in competition with the best in the world. After graduating, I moved to New York for a few years, before coming back to Russia permanently in 1997.”

It was on his return to Moscow that Butman’s career really took off. He began to establish himself as the leading light in Russian jazz, recording several CDs – including his most recent release, Magic Land, which features theme tunes from Soviet cartoons and an elite group of American players.

Russia’s jazz scene today is a far cry from its state in the former USSR, when you could be thrown in jail for holding unauthorised concerts. Butman is quick to acknowledge how “everything has changed,” especially in terms of healthy competition in the musical world. “It’s a harder life for us in a way. There’s a lot of competition between orchestras and groups, which I like. You have to keep improving and really provide something interesting and unique; you have to think about what you can give to venues or concert halls.”

“Now there are a lot more good young musicians. A lot of things are happening all around Russia – every town has its own interesting scene. It’s not only Moscow, but Novosibirsk, St Petersburg, Vladivostok, Rostov-on-Don, Yaroslavl. There are also a lot more jazz clubs competing with each other, and they are able to bring in the best musicians from all over the world.”

The sense of anticipation when a big act hits town is exciting for Butman, who has been organising his own jazz festival for nine years. “It’s called Triumph of Jazz. I’m trying to find new names and give them the opportunity of playing here, as well as bringing old stars who made a revolution in jazz.”

“I think there’s a big market for that in Russia. People are interested in jazz, and they’ve heard about me – a lot of people know me, so they can place trust in what I’m going to play or the people I’m going to bring, even if they don’t know who it is. There’s a big sense of curiosity, because it’s not every day we have something so special. A lot of different people come to the concerts.”

Butman’s status as something of a jazz celebrity in Russia has built up from numerous angles, not least his powerful and distinctive voice on tenor saxophone. In addition to running a club and the Triumph festival, he also hosted the show ‘Jazzophrenia’ on national television.

Most recently, he embarked on an ambitious eight-concert US tour with the Crossover Concerto, a collaboration featuring classical maestro Yuri Bashmet and the composer Igor Raykhelson. “We have my big band and a chamber orchestra, the Moscow Soloists, conducted by Yuri Bashmet. It’s a combination of different music: they play classical pieces, with a little jazz influence, and we play some classical in our jazz way. It’s challenging, but it sounds so good – for us it’s just incredible.”

The current vitality of Russian jazz receives no better endorsement than the fact Butman does not see a reason for returning to America: “I don’t have to live there. Of course I really liked it, but I like to live in Russia just as much.” Habitually sold-out gigs indicate this feeling is mutual.


Published in Russia Now, March 2009, w/ Washington Post (USA) & Daily Telegraph (UK).

The new Russian patriarch will need all his diplomatic skills to manage what has become a fractious church.

The Russian Orthodox church's new Patriarch faces several challenges as he comes to power; not least, a fresh wave of questions over the institution's role in everyday life.

A recent poll conducted by the Russian public survey centre, VTsIOM, saw nearly half of respondents express a degree of opposition to the suitability of Orthodox moral standards in modern society. Thirty-five percent went half way, saying some standards were acceptable and others not, while another 14% held all Orthodox practices to be completely outdated. The number of undecideds was 21%, with only 30% believing people should unequivocally stand by the Orthodox moral schema.

While these findings may be indicative rather than definitive, they come at a crucial moment. The popular Patriarch Alexey II, who led a spiritual revival after decades of enforced Soviet atheism, died in early December, setting off a wave of public grief. On 1 February he was replaced by former Metropolitan Kirill, a man whose coverage in the western media has created as many questions as answers. Kirill, the first post-USSR patriarch, must ask himself why people seem to be drifting away so soon after the church's supposed renaissance. What can he do to stanch the flow and win them back?

The first problem stems from the patriarchal election process. The competition was bitter and ugly. Though the candidates themselves were diplomatic, their followers engaged in smear tactics and mudslinging, spreading rumours on the internet and openly defaming opponents. Kirill must immediately cast this aside. His famed PR skills will be put to good use – known as an inspirational orator, he has hosted a weekly national TV show. The nasty campaign has at least produced a decisive victory, with Kirill winning 508 out of 702 votes; he should use this mandate to deal confidently with the challenges facing him.

Questions surround Kirill's relationship with government. He is known for being close to the Kremlin, but observers appear divided over where he could take the church-state relationship. Progressives are aching for him to usher in a new age of independence for the church, but this is unlikely to happen any time soon, if at all. Nevertheless, the critical consensus seems to be that, one way or another, Kirill will be a politically involved patriarch.

In his Christmas speech, Kirill discussed the economic crisis. The dire financial situation means he must be cautious – at least publicly – about how closely he allies himself to Putin's establishment. He has said the relationship should be based on "mutual non-interference in each other's affairs", but the truth of this statement remains to be seen. During these times of falling government popularity and rising prospects of social unrest, Kirill's best tactic would be presenting himself as the detached voice of reason, projecting calmness and hope.

As in all religions, rampant factionalism has plagued the Orthodox church; an institutionally conservative body encompassing hardliners, moderates and more progressive thinkers. It is impossible to keep everyone happy. The issue of ties with the Roman Catholic faith is controversial: while serving as the Orthodox church's director of external relations, Kirill improved relations with the Vatican. His elevation to the patriarchy received words of welcome from the pope himself. However, on the eve of the vote, Kirill had made a wily bid to secure the support of ultraconservatives: he refuted reports that he was set to swiftly convene a papal meeting if he won, saying problematic issues remained to be solved. As the Roman Catholic church is excluded from official status in Russia, this is an area he must navigate extremely carefully – perhaps by continuing to moderate his own conciliatory instincts.

Next, there is the long-standing dispute over Estonia. Following the break-up of the Soviet Union, the country's Orthodox church split in two: the state-endorsed Apostolic Orthodox church, under jurisdiction of the ecumenical patriarchate, and the Estonian Orthodox church, under the Moscow patriarchate. Sour wranglings over which one has territorial rights, including disputes regarding property ownership, have been a dominant issue – and were particularly so for Estonian-born Alexey II. Kirill's reputation as a talented diplomat and skilled negotiator, finely honed during his time at the external relations department, gives him a fresh opportunity to finally make headway.

It seems Patriarch Kirill will be faced by the emerging challenge of reconciling the Russian people with his church's moral compass, in effect redefining its significance for modern times. This won't be easy: under western influence, Russian society is becoming less spiritual and more materialistic. In an intriguing aside, an online public referendum of senior clergymen saw Kirill win by less than 2% in a poll of 76,000 votes, with 41.1% in total. Moreover, the close second was not one of the three final contenders but Metropolitan Daniel of All Japan. Comical this may be, but perhaps it does indeed reflect an appetite for change from an institution which, according to the New York Times, often has the air of an enforced state religion.

Published @ guardian.co.uk, 6/2/09 - click here for original.