«Celts carol through Russia»
By Peter Henderson
"We want to open the Celtic world for Russians," ambitiously declares
Mikhail Gladkov, a fairie-thin
Russian with long hair and specs who speaks a little Gaelic, is host of the
ever-popular "Celtic Time" radio programme
on Rakurs radio, and recently founded the Russian
Celtic Society.
Most people ask 'Why?'
And the answer, from all over Russia, is: Celts
are hip.
On a recent Monday night in the smoky Mexican
bar La Cantina, folk group Western Gate's rendition of an exuberant and
mystical thousand-year old Gaelic tune fit in right well with their version of
"Jail House Rock."
Already, six professional groups croon their way
through the Moscow bar circuit on a wave of Gaelic hymns on mandolin and
electrified banjo. Russian versions of moody incomprehensible Irish classics,
such as James Joyce's Ulysses, have been
snatched up by a Russian public not satiated by their own moody dramas.
"Celtic is the original country
music," urges Gladkov, who was turned on to
elves and four-leaf clovers by one of the founders of Russian rock, Akvarium leader Boris Grebenschikov.
Akvarium used to play Celtic
tunes during rehearsals, and Grebenschikov passed around
tapes of the original music, Gladkov says.
Now he passes tapes and Celtic
histories off to southern Krasnodar, for instance, where a group of Russian
Gael-o-files is in desperate need of an Irish Fix. "They heard
about the Russian Celtic society and they wanted help. They have already read
all their J.R.R. Tolkien," Gladkov says. No one is quite sure where Celts came from,
and no one is quite sure why Russians are interested in Celts, either.
Celts today live in Ireland and parts of
Scotland, Wales and French Brittany. They are descendants of a hardy people,
including the Gaulles, who terrorised
Caesar's Rome and took over the British Isles before apparently even hardier
Anglo-Saxons pushed them to the fringes of the islands.
Celtic lore, spun by druid priests, included all
sorts of fairies and elves and other creatures who ended up in Tolkien, and now
are sung about on Moscow stages.
Certainly something has clicked between the two,
since the 400-odd Irish in Moscow are catered to by about six Irish bars as
well as a handful of
supermarkets.
Earthy Irish traditions point to a worldwide
trend towards musical roots that all countries share, Yaroslav
Agafonikov, the mandolin player for Western Gate said
during their gig at La Cantina.
Agafonikov explained his
group's future. "We're going to be famous. That's because we are
unplugged," he said, referring to MTV's popular acoustic concert series.
"People need that unplugged sound to relax. They are tired of unrelenting
electric music. Unplugged has a huge resonance."
So bring on the pipes, the mandolin, and a bass
guitar for good measure.
The group is even planning a tour to Ireland to
show off, which Clare said could be a big hit. After all, there are more Irish
in America than in Ireland, so why can't Russians be more Celtish
than Celts?
In the end, Gladkov
says, Russians may learn more about themselves. "You learn more about your
own culture through studying another's. For instance, a Georgian highland tune
sounds a lot like a Celtic jig."
So maybe that's where the Celts came from.
Celtic bands will
play in the St. Patrick's Day Parade at 2 p.m. on Mar. 17 at Novy Arbat. AM,
Rakurs radio.
(«The Moscow Tribune» ¹ 51 (841), March 16, 1996)