WHAT DO BARDS SING ABOUT?

There is an expression often recalled when discussing Baku: "There are no former Baku residents." While it may seem like a cliché, it accurately captures the essence of the city. Baku in the 1970s and 1980s was a unique place where creative energy merged with youth, music, poetry, and cultural diversity. This city nurtured talents that were later dispersed across the globe, yet they always carried a piece of the Baku spirit in their hearts.

David NOVOGRUDSKY (Altman) is one such Baku resident. Born and raised in this vibrant city, he has lived in Israel for many years, but his ties to his homeland remain strong. Years later, David Grigorievich returned to Baku to reconnect with friends, breathe in the atmosphere of his youth, and perform for the Baku audience. The reason for his visit was a large-scale event held at the Rashid Behbudov State Song Theatre—a celebration of the 50th anniversary of the Baku Authors' Song Club (BSC). Over four days, the festival brought together poets and musicians from Russia, Israel, Poland, South Africa, the USA, Georgia, and Azerbaijan, becoming a true celebration of the sincerity and soulfulness of authors' creativity.

"David Grigorievich, your visit to Baku is connected with the festival of the Authors' Song Club. When were you last in the capital of Azerbaijan? What has changed during this time, and what has remained unchanged?"

"The last time I was in Baku was in 2013. Almost eleven years have passed, and during that period, Baku has changed beyond recognition! The Boulevard... Once, my friends and I would stroll there in the evenings, discussing plans and arguing about theatre. Now it resembles a work of art—well-groomed, modern, with a stunning promenade. However, I believe it has always been the heart of the city. Shopping malls? Yes, the kind we couldn't have imagined in our youth. But what warms my soul is that the city has not lost its uniqueness or spirit. The old streets, Icherisheher, the scent of the sea, the smiles of people—it’s all still there. It is also delightful to see how the city is adorned for Christmas and New Year. These lights, Christmas trees, fairs, Santa Clauses... Baku has transformed into a real European capital—well-appointed, bright, and even somewhat grandiose in certain areas."

"What was Baku like in your youth? Was it a city of creative energy?"

"Baku has always been a city brimming with energy! Everything was present: poetry, music, theatre, youth movements. We debated, created, and broke stereotypes. The atmosphere was exceptional. Yes, times change, but the spirit of Baku remains intact. Art, theatre, and bardic song have always been cherished here. People attended concerts not just to listen; they came to share that moment with us."

"In the late 70s, you founded the Poisk theatre. How did a graduate of Azneftekhim come up with the idea of creating a theatre?"

"Theatre was my passion and my outlet. I have always joked that I work as an engineer to fill my pockets but do theatre to fill my soul. The idea to create "Search" emerged for a reason. At that time, Baku lacked theatre platforms for young people who wanted to express themselves through art. While there were wonderful studios like "Balaganchik" or Semyon Shteinberg's theatre, I desired something of my own. Our theatre was established at the Palace of Culture of the Lieutenant Schmidt Plant in 1979 and continued until the early 90s. We literally built everything from scratch: we sewed costumes, constructed sets, and sought themes for performances. Our first production was based on Vysotsky's work. It was bold and even risky. At that time, Vysotsky was considered almost persona non grata; his name was not published, and his songs were seldom heard. But we felt that his work mattered; his words resonated with our era."

"You were ahead of me. Among your productions are works by Jean Anouilh, Vasily Shukshin, and Vladimir Vysotsky you mentioned. That required courage, didn't it?"

"Absolutely! We tackled difficult subjects and authors whom censors disapproved of. For instance, Jean Anouilh's "The Lark" tells the story of Joan of Arc and her struggles. Through her character, we aimed to convey timeless truths about love, suffering, and freedom. Vysotsky... It represented our personal revolution. I recall being expelled from a club in Krasny Vostok for a performance based on his works. I was summoned and reprimanded for supposedly "pouring water on the mill of imperialism." Yet such moments only reinforced our belief that we were doing something meaningful. In one performance based on Vysotsky's work, we featured the song "Maryushka," which included lines like: "Why didn't you throw yourself into the river, Maryushka? / Why didn't you keep silent forever / When your darling was taken away to be a recruit?" It seemed like an ordinary song filled with sadness. However, censors found grounds to object to it due to a line about being "taken away." I was called in and asked: "Do you realize what you're singing? You are telling a young soldier that he has been 'taken away' instead of glorifying military service!" It was truly absurd; an ordinary song laden with sorrow was viewed as a political provocation. We consistently sought to engage with profound and challenging material to speak about intimate and vital themes—love, suffering, hopes. It was crucial for us to depict humanity's desire for independence and resilience against circumstances rather than succumbing to fate's demands. These themes not only excited us but touched us deeply; we believed they carried universal truths that resonated with everyone in the audience."

"What inspired you to persevere despite external resistance?"

"People—their eyes and emotions. When you witness how the audience experiences every moment with you—their reactions of laughter or tears—you realize that everything was worthwhile."

"Is it true that theatre has always been your hobby while you are a mechanical engineer by vocation?"

"Yes, I am indeed a mechanical engineer, and I take pride in it. My profession has always provided me with financial stability and allowed me not to depend on theatre for my livelihood. I worked at Gipromorneftegaz Institute and Kaspmorneftegazprom before moving to Israel, where I continue to work within my field. Theatre is my soul's pursuit; my profession serves as my foundation. You know, I have never regretted this choice. Thanks to my profession and my parents' guidance in making sound decisions, I could pursue creative endeavours freely without worrying about earning a living."

"Besides theatre, songwriting has also played an important role in your life. How did this come about?"

"The author’s song arrived alongside classics—Okudzhava, Vizbor, Galich—and Yakov Kogan significantly influenced me as well. He was an incredibly talented individual who inspired us all with a love for song and poetry—this remarkable way of expressing thoughts through music. Baku had its own bardic culture and unique style; we were part of this movement. Yasha knew how to cultivate an atmosphere where people felt inclined to sing, create, and share their ideas. Yes, some individuals leave—it’s simply part of life—but new voices will always emerge."

"Can a songwriter's work conceal weak verses behind a good melody?"

"Never. An author's song represents a fusion of powerful poetry and music. Weak verses will inevitably reveal themselves; no melody can mask them. A genuine song emerges from sincerity—where every word resonates with the soul."

"There is a stereotype that bards form an elitist caste—a sort of closed club where isolation prevails: they claim to write and sing as if they are chosen ones. Is this accurate?"

"Honestly, I have always perceived bards as individuals who engage with their audience rather than exclude them. Of course, I cannot speak for everyone; however, true bardic songs are narratives grounded in intimacy and sincerity—not cloaked in pretentiousness or pride. If someone views this genre as a "closed club," I regret to say that it contradicts the very essence of bardic culture. Authentic bards like Okudzhava or Galich have consistently engaged in dialogue with their audiences. Imagine home concerts in cosy settings where people gather not only to listen but to experience music collectively with the author—it's an incredible energy! They sang and shared not for themselves but for those eager for their words and melodies. Bards are sensitive souls who allow the world to flow through them and convey their experiences through their verses. Their poems are not mere collections of words; they emanate depth that resonates with anyone willing to listen. If someone begins distancing themselves from their audience—losing that connection—their songs quickly lose their power and allure. A bardic song devoid of heart and authenticity becomes merely an arrangement of sounds. Thus, if arrogance exists somewhere within this realm, it stems from other narratives far removed from the origins laid down by great masters."

"In 1990 you emigrated to Israel. Did you feel sorrowful about leaving your childhood city behind? Or did you realise that following the collapse of the USSR during such tumultuous times would lead to difficulties in daily life and creativity?"

"You know, relocation is always a choice—even when circumstances dictate it. People change their residences due to life’s demands or fate’s calls or sometimes even chance encounters. Strangely enough, this process feels natural despite how painful parting may seem at that moment. For me, such a moment arrived when I departed for Israel. Many acquaintances had already left; I followed suit with family and friends. It was a challenging decision—there seemed no alternative route as time called for change.

"Of course there were challenges; I wasn't merely shifting residences—I was transforming my life entirely: adapting to a new language, navigating a new culture alongside novel rules—it felt akin to learning how to walk all over again! During that period I composed some songs reflecting my emotions—very personal pieces resembling diary entries. While I can't classify these songs as masterpieces artistically speaking—they hold immense value for me as they encapsulate memories from my journey into this new life.

"Israel has become my second home; I've put down roots here and discovered my place within it all. The confidence I've cultivated over time stems from making that difficult choice."

"How did you adapt your background in Soviet theatre for the Israeli stage? Or is your audience predominantly Russian-speaking?"

"Israel is an extraordinary place where diverse cultures collide—languages and traditions intertwine beautifully! Indeed, there exists a substantial Russian-speaking public here; it was for them that I managed to stage several plays featuring young actors fluent in Russian. Collaborating with amateur theatre poses its own set of challenges—especially within Israel's demanding market where every endeavor requires clear financial justification alongside commercial success! This journey proved challenging—and regrettably did not last as long as I'd hoped—but I'm grateful for the experience it offered me—not solely as an opportunity for creation but also as a means to share part of Russian theatrical education which holds great significance for me.

"The Russian language continues thriving vibrantly within Israel's cultural landscape: plays abound alongside concerts while festivals gather Russian-speaking audiences together! I firmly believe creativity knows no linguistic boundaries; bardic songs possess an innate capability of uniting hearts regardless of geographic location! I recall when Khorda's bardic festival transitioned from Moscow to Israel—a remarkable event wherein two leading bards emigrated here along with them bringing an entire cultural tradition into our Promised Land."

"This year's festival takes place in Baku. Given today’s challenging times, you’ve returned to your homeland—please share your thoughts about your current visit to Azerbaijan."

"I am immensely grateful to Javid Imamverdiyev (President of BSC), who like a magician managed to transform what seemed almost nothing into an authentic festival celebrating bardic music! This event transcends mere concerts or amateur gatherings—it embodies a festival characterised by soulfulness—a revival of spirit uniting those dedicated to preserving this art across time zones!

"My current visit provides an opportunity not only to sing beloved songs but also cherish memories associated with bards who originated here yet took their talents elsewhere across our globe; their melodies still resonate within us today while gathering here allows us each moment together immersed back into this atmosphere!

"Baku represents more than simply another location on any map. It's akin to living heart beating harmoniously alongside bardic melodies! I'm thankful for everyone who listened attentively during performances; those organizing this event are commendable! Audiences here form an entirely distinct chapter. They don’t just listen, they engage deeply alongside us through each song! Thanks entirely due them—this tradition shall endure onward granting us further chances returning time after time sharing fresh songs granting inspiration breathing life into pure sincere artistry so desperately needed amidst today's world!

"Thank you Baku for warmth, for joy, for inspiration!"