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Orkestr Che are from the Ukrainian city of Kharkov and have been performing together as a large, loose outfit since 2002. Now, as then, their efforts are directed towards a marriage of theater and music; in this light, they continue an important strain of twentieth-century, especially Soviet musical performance in which song and costumes are combined in so-called teatralizatsiia. The result is what the ensemble's members have termed "an often strange symbiosis, perhaps it's the 'visualization' of music. It could also be the voicing of subconscious impulses, together with various strange thoughts about the world."
As we'll see, the musicians' thespian efforts on stage do indeed feed into a general, "strange" outlook about the importance of songwriting; sounds are amplified and explained by physical gesture. In the simplest terms possible, the artists show what they sing.
More than seven years have been spent on these crisscrossing patterns of song and drama. The band's first demo album was recorded in 2003, at which time Orkestr Che began touring around Ukraine. It was only with their "official" debut CD in 2005 that the performers were able to move beyond a local circuit, when they found themselves invited to both Moscow and St Petersburg. Over time, this geographic development has been reflected internally, too. More members have been added, as a result of which "an initial, [modest] acoustic sound was transformed into a full-blooded rhythm section."
A sense of that development can be gathered from a quick sketch of the current lineup: Oleg Kadanov (guitar and vocals), Sergei Savenko (clarinet), Mikhail Kabanov ("crazy performances"), Konstantin Sal'nikov (percussion), and Petr Tseluiko (bass).
These musicians claim the fixed and lasting influence of various ideas related to performance art, both from the past ("Futurists and Surrealists") and the present day ("post-modernism, too"), which is perhaps surprising, given the often disarming simplicity of their music. The theoretical complexity of which they speak is much more of a visual nature than anything melodic. In fact they often namecheck Auktsyon as a long-term influence, being another band that famously combines semi-improvised, spontaneous music with very considered, clever theatrical inserts.
Much as those three theoretical schools all arose amid grand geopolitical or historical changes, so - on a smaller timescale - Orkestr Che hope their music and stagecraft will bring some meaning to bear in the sphere of human biography. Broad artistic theories are applied to private experience. Much of the ensemble's cabaret aesthetic is dedicated to thoughts on the passage of individual, rather than shared, civic time. Their views of our common experience and aging, however, may not be the happiest.
"The start of life is akin to euphoria, but from the moment we start maturing, that euphoria passes. A new stage begins, one of figuring things out. It's a time when a person's development is still 'beginning' and yet it's 'coming to an end,' too. In a word, that same [intermediate] period is life itself. Afterward comes the happy ending. Not just an ending, but a happy one. We're reminded of some words by [Russian futurist] poet Velimir Khlebnikov: 'The world is a smirk that flickers across the lips of a hanged man.'"
Combinations of wit and woe are never easy to express; a Slavic penchant for melancholy means even the choice of appropriate greasepaint can be a challenge.
The band has told the Russian press that their name comes from a dream, experienced by all members simultaneously(...), in which a mystery man siting "on a piping-hot pie"(...) told them what they'd be called. In other, more sensible instances, the performers state that, in fact, their moniker is the truncated form of a longer, now rejected version, in which they celebrated a shared admiration for revolutionary Che Guevara.
Just as their (alleged) hero once aimed to break down the restrictive, divisive barriers of society, so too Orkestr Che believe they have "universal, revolutionary" appeal for all age groups. Rejecting the market-driven idea of generation-specific fan bases, they're inclined to list their admirers as taken from the following age brackets. "Kids from 13 to 17 years old, young people between 21 and 25, grown-ups from 33 to 35, and even 'more' grown-up individuals from 40 to 41 years old."
That final period seems to be rather brief; a fleeting pause en route to life's "happy end."
Silver-haired members of the populace need not feel excluded, since the band goes on to guarantee its appeal for "really mature individuals - around the 50-year mark. Our audience even includes folks on their way to dotage, circa 51 and beyond!" These multiple ages come together in what Orkestr Che almost see as a charitable project: "We get a genuine moral satisfaction from what we do. To some extent you could even say it's a kind of drug!"
We get a genuine moral satisfaction from what we do. To some extent you could even say it's a kind of drug!
This social incentive, however, does not transfer itself into any strident civic program, no matter the band's Cuban heroes. "With each and every year we spend on this earth, we understand that it's silly to try and change anything. It's impossible to change people, for example. Well, at least in those cases where they don't want to change. At the end of the day, everything feeds into a general, cosmic balance. You, know, a kind of yin/yang principle. All that we want is for our music, lyrics, and stage antics to help people widen their consciousness. We'd like to help them understand the world in fuller terms."
Once again, Khlebnikov's hanged man comes into view. The musicians view the world around them largely in fatalistic or deterministic terms, as a result of which maturity - if not "pleasure" (i.e., calming acquiescence!) - comes from realizing one's narrow sphere of activity. The room here for arrogance is minimal.
In fact, in another interview, the band described their "ideology" as a combination of "doubt and provocation." That's hardy a platform for political heavyweights. Social notions of inclusion, say, may be advocated - as we see in the sphere of audience age-groups - but that polite "provocation" is never transferred into a cocky policy, free of doubt. "We don't have the right," they say, "to propagate any kind of values."
This issue of music and politics reappeared later in the same conversation. One fan claimed to detect doubts or cynicism in Orkestr Che's lyrics over the nature of all political force. The musicians were therefore asked what they might change, if they had the opportunity to rule an entire nation. The answer? "We'd built a chain of music stores in all corners of the world. And invite all kinds of good musicians."
We'd built a chain of music stores in all corners of the world. And invite all kinds of good musicians.
The general welfare of a country, therefore, will be improved by two factors: the maximum number of music-loving audience members (of all ages!) and music-makers, too. Audible and behavioral harmonies are potentially one and the same. This has led one admirer to remark, with vague irony, that Orkestr Che's music reminds him of the main song from a famous 1930s' Stalinist musical, "The Happy-Go-Lucky Guys" (Veselye rebiata). Here the lyrics informed people that "songs help us to live and build..."
Any attempts at turning these ideas into specific, partisan statements on stage, however, will come to naught. One anonymous individual, ignoring that caveat, recently launched into a series of pointed and pushy questions: "How do you see the future of our country? Does it even have a future? What do you think of our president? How about America? Fascism? Nabokov? Dostoevskii...?" At that point the musicians interrupt him and say they'd rather discuss such matters over a cup of tea.
Policy is swiftly downgraded to the pleasant give & take of a kitchen conversation.
Moderation become the order of the day, whether over cups of tea or as a face-to-face with destiny's sage victims on the scaffold. One final question from an online supporter brings that standpoint clearly into view. It concerns ways in which the band might want to develop, become more famous, or more influential. "What plans and dreams do you have for Orkestr Che? Would you like to become world renowned? What kind of people would you really like to see at your concerts? Do you actually have fans? And how do you relate to them?" The band replied: "We'd like to become a world-famous chamber orchestra." Minor goals and moderation would become a worldwide credo; modest melodies would reach many people.
And as for the other queries: "The people who come to our gigs are precisely the people needed." The status quo, whatever it may be, is just fine. And, finally: "We relate to our fans without fanaticism!" A golden mean endures, one established in the present.
Sitting face to face with themselves, the musicians of Orkestr Che breathe a wise sigh of acknowledgment. One half of life may look blue - but the other can still manage a silent smile.
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