Quotes from Oleg Skripka about the Ukrainian language: “Russia is our biggest friend in this matter”
The frontman of the legendary Ukrainian rock band Vopli Vidoplyasova (VV), which celebrates its 31st birthday this year, is also known for his loud statements regarding the Ukrainian language and culture. We have selected several striking quotes from the musician on this topic.
He especially often says them before big speeches, answering questions from journalists. On April 19, at a meeting at the school of journalism in Kyiv, 52-year-old Skrypka said that he considers citizens incapable of learning the Ukrainian language to be mentally ill and in his fictional world would place them in a ghetto. On April 29, a concert “BB” will take place in Kyiv together with the NAONI Orchestra.
“Ukrainian should be included in the Red Book”
“We need everyone, at the level of ordinary citizens, to realize that our language is really disappearing. It must be saved in the same way that rare animals listed in the Red Book are saved. I’m not a scientist, but according to my observations, if this continues, then in 20-30 years the Ukrainian language will not be used, because today’s processes are happening very quickly,” the singer told UNIAN in 2010.
“An anti-Ukrainian program is working in Ukraine”
— An anti-Ukrainian, anti-cultural program has been going on in Ukraine for a long time, aimed at the complete destruction of the Ukrainian language - in songs, music, and so on. That's why there are no broadcasts. Therefore, there is no place for musicians to appear. If in Ukraine you speak Ukrainian and sing Ukrainian songs, they immediately call it nationalism,” Skrypka said at a press conference in Moscow in 2011, Ukrainian News reported.
“The anti-Ukrainian racism of Crimeans is not changing”
“But what remains constant is the anti-Ukrainian racism of the Crimeans, which has not gone away. Sevastopol is the only place in the world where Ukrainians are viewed negatively. You can get punched in the face for speaking Ukrainian,” Skrypka said in an interview with men’s magazine Maxim in 2012.
In the same interview, the singer stated that in Ukraine at that time, songs in Ukrainian were in the minority, a minority, and the starting positions of Russian-speaking guest performers were always higher.
— By the way, the paradox of the situation is that it is Russian show business that supports us. If we had not been invited to Russian shows and played on Russian radio, then the Ukrainian language with its music and culture would have died out long ago! Russia is our greatest friend in this matter, and it is surprising that our government cannot do a fraction of what Russian show business does,” he said.
“It’s not normal to listen to Louboutins when the country is at war”
— Ukrainians urgently need to learn to resist Russian cultural colonialism. After all, now we live in a country where the Ukrainian language is prohibited! For example: under Kuchma, 8% of Ukrainian music was broadcast on radio and TV, under Yushchenko it became 4%, for Yanukovych - 4%, and now - only 1.5%. It's horrible. I am sure there are structures that deliberately destroy the Ukrainian language in Ukraine. I don’t know what these structures are, but their activities have led to the fact that our society is much more willing to swallow “Louboutin” with obscenities in a hostile language, rather than the song “Sich Army,” while we have a war in the east. This is not normal,” Skrypka said during a direct line for KP in Ukraine readers.
“It was necessary to occupy Transnistria and liberate Crimea”
Not about language and culture, but still a “hype” quote:
— For example, even before Donbass there was an occupation, but we slept through it. It was necessary to act. Crimea was occupied, it was necessary to occupy Transnistria, take up arms and go to Crimea. That's what I would do. And maybe they would have removed me from power, they wouldn’t have allowed me to do this,” Skrypka said in January on the “Double Yat” program.
“The current radio quotas are cultural genocide”
— 25% of Ukrainian music, despite the fact that 70% of Ukrainians speak Ukrainian, is cultural genocide..! I think that some of them are paid extra by the Kremlin so that they do not play Ukrainian music - this is absolutely my version! I'm just convinced that this is what happens. Despite the fact that Ukrainian music and art have their own wide audience, the singer said in a recent interview with Apostrophe.
“We need to create a ghetto for those who cannot learn Ukrainian”
— I would like to live in a completely Ukrainian-speaking cultural environment. If people do not speak Ukrainian, they have every right to look for work in other regions. People who cannot learn Ukrainian have a low IQ and are diagnosed with “dibilism.” We need to separate them, because they are socially dangerous, we need to create a ghetto for them,” he said at a meeting at the school of journalism, as quoted by “Ukrainian Pravda.Life.”
Proverbs about the violin. About the benefits of playing the violin
—
One hour of violin playing in Berlin is an hour where the child is interested in music.
One hour on the violin in Palestine is an hour where a child is protected from violence and cruelty. — If everyone played first violin, there would be no ensemble. Therefore, respect every musician, no matter what position he is in.
- Life is like playing the violin - solo in public, but practice alone with yourself.
— The notes I play are no better than those of other violinists. Pauses are where the art is kept.
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Where words are powerless, a more eloquent language appears - Music.
— The sound of a violin brings the heart into exactly the same state that you experience when enjoying the presence of a loved one, that is, music gives, undoubtedly, the brightest happiness that is possible on earth.
— It’s hard to be the first violin in a brass band.
“You shouldn’t listen to those who tell you to play the violin when you’re good at beating the drum.”
— Playing the violin is a reflection of the state of the violinist’s soul.
- The bow understood everything, it fell silent, And in the violin the echo still held on...
And it was torment for them, What seemed like music to people.
— Don’t think that the word “violin” comes from the word “creak.”
- Don’t rush, don’t move the bow so quickly. Imagine this is your salary. You should not use it up immediately, but distribute it over a long period of time.
- Language is a tool;
it is almost more difficult than the violin itself.
It might also be noted that patience is necessary on both one and the other instrument. *
“When walking somewhere, do not forget that you breathe, feel, live. No matter where, why or where you are going, slow down and pay attention to the sounds. The sound of the wind, the rustling of trees, the sound of footsteps, the voices of people, the singing of birds, the breath of the sea, the roar of engines, the conversation of clothes worn by a person, the rustle of candy wrappers, coughing, slamming of doors. Through some unnecessary rush, catch yourself in this moment. Wait a minute and just close your eyes. You will hear the rhythm of life. She stands and moves at the same time. A huge number of beautiful sounds surrounded around us. A person can find something delightful in the most ordinary phenomenon, without even finding a reason.”
Vladislav Davidenko
* Music is the only universal language, because it does not need to be translated, because soul speaks to soul in it.
* Music is the best consolation for a sad person.
*Music shows a person the possibilities of greatness that exist in his soul.
*Music with its melody takes us to the very edge of eternity and gives us the opportunity to comprehend its greatness within a few minutes.
*Beauty in music does not lie in a heap of effects and harmonic oddities, but in simplicity and naturalness.
*Music is the language of the soul, it is the area of feelings and moods, it is the life of the soul expressed in sounds.
*The beauty of music is in the melody.
*Melody is the only form of music; without melody, music is unthinkable, and music and melody are inseparable.
Violin and the development of a child’s abilities It is very important to develop not only the intellectual, but also the creative abilities of a child from an early age. It is no coincidence that since ancient times, every pedagogical system has not been imagined without the study of a foreign language, music, and drawing. As a rule, these disciplines were even considered mandatory. More recently, scientists, according to their latest research, have proven that music lessons have a stimulating effect on brain development, which means that the child has stronger connections of nerve endings in the brain. Scientists from Concordia University and the Montreal Neurological Institute were able to prove that those people who attended music classes from childhood have significantly stronger connections between nerve endings in the brain. The age that is most recommended for music lessons, according to scientists, is from six to eight years, also called the “sensitive period”. Scientists conducted a brain scan, which showed certain results: those who started playing music since childhood showed noticeable advantages, and the area that is responsible for the musculoskeletal system was especially distinguished. Their brain scans showed the following: the white matter of the corpus callosum had greater volume. According to the results of the test, scientists were able to conclude the following: regular music lessons in childhood generally improve the development of connections between the sensory and motor areas of the brain, which creates the basis on which the entire subsequent learning process rests. Let's take a closer look at how learning to play the violin develops a child's abilities. Classes
This instrument is great for stimulating a child's fingers. This helps to activate the language zone, in other words, the development of speech. Practice shows that the earlier a child with such problems began to play the violin, the more effectively and quickly the speech is corrected. Moreover, the older the child, the more effort will be required.
Fine motor skills develop, the bones of the hands acquire greater mobility, stiffness of movements disappears, and it will be easier for the child to learn to write. Coordination of movements develops. The violin is a wonderful educational toy for improving coordination: a variety of hand movements. This means that all brain centers are actively stimulated. The ability to combine auditory, visual perception and motor coordination improves, and this helps to be attentive and patient. The violin develops the multi-channel ability to hear what is said to him while performing the desired actions. Both hemispheres of the brain develop. Based on the above, we can say that learning to play the violin holistically develops human abilities and is of great importance for the entire development of a child’s personality.
I'll take the violin in my hands and hold the bow. The sound is wonderful, simply amazing. The violin sounds so beautiful.
Putting the violin to his chin, the violinist plays a nocturne for us, Slightly swaying, as if in a boat, Floating on the sea on the waves.
Excitedly, the song of the violin flows, Inspiring a trembling mood, And we splash in it like fish, And enjoy the game.
I'm not bored at all now. The violin and I are inseparable. All day long, cheek to cheek, we play in the corner.
Simbirskaya Yu.
Hello little violin! You are like a goldfish, the bow touches the strings: - Play, drink some more!
Kabanova S., Chekalova L.
I missed school today, I was late for all my classes, and even the football coach waited for me for an hour in vain.
No, no accidents happened to me Halfway through the road - I listened to the violin on the boulevard, And time flew by like a whirlwind!
She sounded so happy, As if she had been bored in a locked case for many hundreds of years and burst into the light again.
And I stood petrified on the sidewalk next to her, Until it suddenly got dark and the boulevard of lights turned on.
Uncle G.
In the native untouched forests the spruce stood as if on the clock; She was taller than everyone, slimmer than everyone, Buran loved to argue with her. Beneath her, an elk fought with the wolves, shielding the elk calf; In winter, the frost, scaring the animals, crackled and chilled right through it. In the spring, the capercaillie sang at dawn, the dawns blazed like bonfires... Summer passed in festive attire, thunderstorms rumbled, thunder rumbled... And the spruce grew stronger, and the trunk darkened. In the south, with the sea next door, Among the fragrant wild roses, the curly maple grew carelessly, cheerful and noisy since childhood. Lover of the nightingale's song, He blossomed the leaves in the spring. A cheerful downpour in the summer heat fell upon him like an avalanche. For many years the maple trunk was thoroughly warmed by the sun. He grew and grew strong in the thick foliage, He himself, like the sun, is golden! The master took the Christmas tree, and took the maple: He is in love with his craftsmanship. He sawed them neatly, cut them lengthwise and crosswise, carefully preserved the stripes and golden spots in the cuts. He worked for a long time, patiently, and made a violin that amazed everyone: There is no more tender voice in the world! It’s as if a heart is beating in her... Our forests gave her their living voices.
Trutneva E.
The sounds of a sad violin could be heard, She played tenderly in the distance. It remains an exciting mystery for me, What kind of violinist was holding it in his hand...
The smooth movements of the bow make the strings tremble. The tune sounds from afar, Sings about a moonlit evening. How clear the overflow of sounds is, There is joy and a smile in them, A dreamy motif sounds. I call myself... (Violin)
It creaks in the hands of unskilled people, It makes me sad about the old master. It enchants, excites, sparkles, The sorceress sings... (Violin)
She grew up in the forest, came home, dried out on the stove, cried without tears. (Violin)
It was as if the girl began to sing, and the room seemed to brighten. The melody glides so flexibly. Everything is quiet: playing... (Violin)
Violin and a little nervous
The violin jerked, begging, and suddenly burst into tears so childishly that the drum could not stand it: “Okay, okay, okay!” But he himself was tired, did not listen to the end of the violin’s speech, rushed towards the burning Kuznetsky and left. The orchestra watched as a stranger as the violin cried without words, without tact, and only somewhere a stupid plate clanged out: “What is this?” "Like this?" And when the copper-faced, sweaty Helikon shouted: “You fool, crybaby, wipe it off!” - I stood up, staggeringly climbed through the notes, bending under the horror of the music stand, for some reason shouted: “God!”, I threw myself on the wooden neck: “You know what, violin? We are terribly similar: I scream too, but I can’t prove anything!” The musicians laugh: “What a mess! Came to the wooden bride! Head!" And I don’t care! I'm good. “You know what, violin? Let's live together! A?"
Vladimir Mayakovsky
The violin groans under the mountain. In a sleepy park the evening is long, The evening is long - The face of an Innocent, The image of a girl with me.
The violin's tireless moan hums to me: "Live..." The image of a beloved girl - A Tale of Tender Love.
Alexander Blok
Magic violin
Dear boy, you are so cheerful, your smile is so bright, Don’t ask for this happiness that poisons the worlds, You don’t know, you don’t know what this violin is, What the dark horror of the beginner of the game is!
The one who once took her into his commanding hands, The serene light of his eyes disappeared forever, The spirits of hell love to listen to these royal sounds, Mad wolves roam along the path of the violinists.
We must forever sing and cry to these strings, sonorous strings, The maddened bow must forever beat and curl, And under the sun, and under the blizzard, under the whitening breakers, And when the west burns and when the east burns.
You will get tired and slow down, and the singing will be interrupted for a moment, And you will no longer be able to shout, move or breathe, - Immediately the mad wolves in a bloodthirsty frenzy will grab your throat with their teeth, stand with their paws on your chest.
Then you will understand how viciously everything that sang laughed, a belated but powerful fear will look into your eyes. And the melancholy mortal cold will wrap around the body like a cloth, And the bride will sob, and the friend will think.
Boy, move on! You won't find any fun or treasures here! But I see you laughing, those eyes are two rays. Here, wield a magic violin, look into the eyes of monsters and die a glorious death, the terrible death of a violinist!
Nikolay Gumilyov
Play for me, violin, tenderly about love, Play with hope about a long road, Remember trouble with an anxious note, And separation - with a sad note. Play for me so that my Soul lives and dies in your music. She burned in the flames of violent passions and cooled down in the icy font. Quickly touch the magic strings, bow, Dispel the melancholy, tired and angry. With you I'm not so lonely, But without you I miss you.
Some kind of ancestor of mine was a violinist, a rider and a thief at the same time. Isn’t that why my character is wandering and my hair smells like the wind!
Isn’t it he, the dark one, who steals apricots from the cart with my hand, the culprit of my passionate fate, curly-haired and hook-nosed.
Marveling at the plowman behind the plow, a spit between his lips was a rosehip. He was a bad comrade - dashing and an affectionate lover!
Lover of the pipe, the moon and beads, And all the young neighbors... I also think that my yellow-eyed ancestor was a coward.
What, having sold his soul to the devil for a penny, He did not go to the cemetery at midnight! I also think that he wore the knife behind his boot.
That more than once He jumped around the corner - like a flexible cat... And for some reason I realized that he didn’t play the violin!
And he didn’t care about everything, - Like last year’s snow in the summer! My ancestor was such a violinist. I became such a poet.
Marina Tsvetaeva
Sorceress violin, I love your voice, It cries, it laughs, you sing, violin, sing! About the sun, about the wind, about a house in the distance, About how far ships sail, About how a dove builds its nest, About how a wave will wash us ashore. In you is the voice of the wind, in you is the light of the sun, in you is the truth of a fairy tale and the answer to questions. How young you are in the world, how old you are in the world, I will listen to you from morning to morning.
They run after Paganini the long-fingered crowd like a gypsy crowd - Some with a Czech choke, some with a Polish ball, and some with a Hungarian nemchura.
Girl, upstart, proud, whose sound is wide, like the Yenisei, - Comfort me with your playing: On your head, Pole, Marina Mnishek there is a hill of curls, Your bow is suspicious, violinist.
Comfort me with roan Chopin, Serious Brahms, no, wait: Powerfully wild Paris, Floury and sweaty carnival, Or the mash of young Vienna -
Fidgety, in conductor's tailcoats. In Danube fireworks, horse races and a waltz from the coffin to the cradle, flowing like hops.
Play to rupture the aorta With a cat's head in your mouth, There were three devils - you are the fourth, The last wonderful devil in bloom.
Osip Mandelstam
The words fell silent on the lips, the bow flashed, the violin sobbed, and a madly bright mistake arose in two hearts.
And greedy gazes merged in a dream that has no name, and intertwined like an unsteady thread, languishing, and not afraid of recognition.
Among the crowd, among the lights, Love grew and grew, And the violin, as if merging with it, trembled, sang and sobbed.
Konstantin Balmont
What heavy, dark nonsense! How cloudy and lunar these heights are! Touching a violin for so many years And not recognizing the strings in the light!
Who needs us? Who lit up Two yellow faces, two dull ones... And suddenly I felt a bow, That someone had taken them and someone had merged them.
“Oh, how long ago! Through this darkness, say one thing, are you the one, are you the one?” And the strings caressed towards him, Ringing, but as they caressed, they trembled.
“Isn’t it true that we will never part again? enough...” And the violin answered yes, But the violin’s heart was hurt.
The bow understood everything, it fell silent, And in the violin the echo still held on... And it was torment for them, What seemed like music to people.
But the man did not extinguish the candles until the morning... And the strings sang... Only the sun found them exhausted On the black velvet bed.
Innokenty Annensky
The music played in silence, It whispered, sang and breathed, Repeating the music of the river, And the water walked to the beat of the melody. The sounds of sweet, tender simplicity, The violin quietly made, They came from the depths of the soul, The wave calmed down importantly. You play, play violinist, In the evening summer darkness, Calm your bitter cry, Don’t scold yourself for someone else’s fault. Give joy instead of tears, Let the river sparkle more strongly, Let the frost pass down your hand, The pain quietly subsides.
The bow began to sing. And a stuffy cloud rose above us. And we dreamed of nightingales. And the obedient body Slipped into my arms... It was not the nightingale that sang, but when the string broke, It sobbed and rang all around, Like in a spring grove, silence... As there, the May thunderstorm entered into the sobbing sounds... Fearful hands came closer together, And the adjacent eyes burned ...
Alexander Blok
A violin sobs in a dark hall, squeezing hearts, pouring melancholy, And the sounds full of sadness are getting thicker, like brushstroke to brushstroke.
The souls of the abyss are opened with sounds, And the bright spirit is in contrition, But the tears of complaint are poured out, A new sound illuminates the ear.
The mysterious power of Light..., Blue Star of Hope... Happiness is available in this life! You can always feel the light!
The sound floated life-giving, wondrous. He encouraged, he elevated, He pulled to where there were light showers, Where is what everyone here was looking for.
Makeeva E.
And responsive as the heart, the violin cries and sings, and dances in a light scherzo, dances a polite gavotte.
The notes are airy pages - the sails are flying into the fog. A graceful trough - the violin went out into the ocean.
In the symphonic abyss, the violin is the first to emerge. Lead the orchestra fleet behind you, like a goddess.
The violin distracts the soul from doubts and worries. Listening to a light violin, even God will smile!..
Zhigalin S.
I touch your thin waist tenderly and passionately: The bow clings to the strings, and You agree to respond to my passion.
You are ready to sing love, And you will voice the pain of loss. You, caressing my ears, teach my soul, and refresh my blood.
Bow and violin. Spirit and flesh. And a sweet moment of connection! ...Melody - from the world of creation - can overcome the sleep of reason.
Vytyazhkova L.
The violin reveals the soul to the subtle listener - Sometimes it rumbles like a wave, sometimes like a ringing bell! Now the scythe, as in the dewy grass, whistles along the outer strings, Now with a prayer and a tearful request it hurts the pitiful heart.
With the staccato subsiding, the herd will gallop off into the fields, Or, like a deceived girl, will begin to cry in sorrow. It will make you think with deep registers... Then in childish fun it will burst out with silvery laughter.
And having accidentally fallen in love, he starts singing in false hope. Then, as a lonely widow, she groans hopelessly. Now far away, now suddenly nearby he will howl like an animal to the wounded, Then, playing tremolando, he will cover you with terrible trembling.
And sometimes the violin beckons you to sweep away your worries at once - It will give you a riotous drink of hops, suddenly throwing notes into an allegro! And it can be painful to understand - at the risk of breaking a string at once, Does the bow draw sounds? or whether he himself dances to them!
Alla Pritz
The musician was playing the violin - I looked into his eyes. It wasn’t that I was curious—I was flying through the sky. It’s not just out of boredom - I was hoping to understand how these hands can extract these sounds from some piece of wood, from some rough veins, from some kind of fantasy that he served? Moreover, you need to know where to press your fingers when, so that the series of proud sounds does not get lost in the darkness. Moreover, we need to penetrate our soul and ignite it... Why stand on ceremony with it? Why take care of it?
Happy is the home where the sounds of the violin guide us on the path and give us hope... The rest will happen. Happy is the instrument pressed to the angular shoulder, by whose blessing I fly across the sky. Happy is he, whose path is short, whose fingers are angry, whose bow is sharp, the musician who built a fire from my soul. And the soul, that’s for sure, if it is burned, it is fairer, more merciful and righteous.
Bulat Okudzhava
From thin slabs of rare wood, Among the sawdust, in a wretched workshop, A violin with an aspen waist was born, A child of the talent of the Master and God.
And the smell of varnish, cloying and bitter, concealed great secrets, In old Antonio’s closet a violin was born... And it was born at dawn
The Great Master brought it out onto the terrace, so that the child would dry out from birth, and he himself, who had not slept even an hour during the night, lay down and plunged into dreams...
And he saw in a dream how all of Cremona applauded this new violin, how the fingers of a musician skillfully, trembling, wandered around its flexible body.
The bow touched the virgin body, tore off her clothes with a triad, and the violin sang amazingly, like none of those that had sung before...
She sobbed in a sweet undertone, The sounds merged in two-voices of passion, The bow flies up and smoothly sinks... And he says to her: God! You are beautiful!!!
Her supple body sounds, She cries and sings and moans! From low, viscous, black and white sounds to the highest ones - in a bright red tone...
The master woke up. Without opening his eyes, he said quietly: you sang beautifully... And if you sang, it means you are alive. And he stood up. The old body ached...
Cremona lived in everyday life, The sellers of fruit water were shouting... The maestro was cleaning his monastery, To begin the birth of a new violin.
And three hundred years later, in a huge hall, Two violins sang as part of the famous orchestra. The audience did not know that these violins sang for the Maestro...
