Frolova Walker Nationalism
Frolova Walker Nationalism
Frolova Walker Nationalism
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"National in Form, Socialist in Content":
Musical Nation-Building in the Soviet
Republics
MARINA FROLOVA-WALKER
[JournaloftheAmericanMusicological
Society1998, vol. 51, no. 2]
? 1998 by the AmericanMusicologicalSociety. All rights reserved.0003-0139/98/5102-0004$2.00
332 Journalof the American Society
Musicological
and recordings of music resulting from those policies could still be found
in abundance in Moscow music shops. Today they have all but disap-
peared, forlornly consigned to the dustiest corners of libraries, and to for-
gotten cupboards in the back rooms of schools and colleges. Natives of the
former Soviet republics and Russians alikeconsider most of this music dead
and unworthy of revival.Not only is it tainted with Stalinism, but for those
old enough to remember, it is associated with the tedium of the routine
tributes to the achievements of each republic that could be found in text-
books, concert seasons, and the examination and competition programs of
the recent yet now so remote past. For the purposes of musicology in the
late 1990s, however, the study of this music holds great promise, provok-
ing reflection on a constellation of topics: nationalism, culturalcolonialism,
orientalism, and the history of socialist realism.'
The main focus of this article is the renaissanceof romantic nineteenth-
century nationalism within a socialist multinational state. Such a combi-
nation may seem strange to those who have learned to assign Marxism and
nationalism to distinct and irreconcilable categories, and indeed, the sep-
aration is not entirely inaccurateon the level of pure theory: national self-
consciousness was supposed to be symptomatic of high capitalism, and
both were destined to collapse together. Nevertheless, the practical appli-
cation and development of Soviet Marxism-Leninism acknowledged the
realities of the age of nation-states, and employed nationalist ideology for
socialist ends without losing sight of the eventual and inevitable advent of
a nationless and stateless future-or so the Party ideologues declared. The
mutual adjustment between nationalist and socialist mythologies was a
complex process. As we shall see, in the case of music the rhetorical strat-
egies of romantic nationalism were retained but yoked to new purposes,
with results that were sometimes remarkablygrotesque, sometimes simply
self-defeating. We can be thankful that, although equivocation and obfus-
1. See Gregory Salmon's entries on Alma-Ata, Askhabad, Baku, Bishkek, Dushanbe, Ere-
van, Tashkent, and Tbilisi in the New GroveDictionaryofOpera,ed. Stanley Sadie (London and
New York: Macmillan, 1992). As Salmon's bibliographies attest, there is as yet no substantial
treatment of these repertories in the English-language musicological literature. Prior to the
Salmon articles,the only information in English availableon many of the composers discussed
in the present article could be found in Stanley Dale Krebs, SovietComposers and the Develop-
ment of SovietMusic (New York: W. W. Norton, 1970); and Rena Moisenko, Realist Music:
Twenty-fiveSoviet Composers(London: Meridian Books, 1949). The latter is of interest as a
faithful-indeed credulous--precis of the standard Soviet line, but it offers no independent
assessment of events. Ethnomusicologists who carried out fieldwork in the republics occa-
sionally commented on the interaction of traditional culture with Soviet ideology: see Mark
Slobin, "Conversationsin Tashkent,"AsianMusic 2, no. 2 (1971): 7-13; and also Theodore
C. Levin, "Music in Modern Uzbekistan: The Convergence of Marxist Aesthetics and Central
Asian Tradition,"AsianMusic 12, no. 1 (1979): 149-58. There is a brief but very penetrating
description of the matter in question in Richard Taruskin,Defining RussiaMusically:Historical
and HermeneuticalEssays(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), xvi-xvii.
"Nationalin Form,Socialistin Content" 333
cation were raised to dogma in this era, negotiating the resulting ideolog-
ical hall of mirrors, difficult as it still is for a researcher, is no longer the
life-and-death matter it once was for Soviet composers and musicologists.
National in Form
For the first few years of the Bolshevik state, musical nationalism in its
nineteenth-century form was certainly out of favor. Indeed, the cosmopol-
itanism and avant-gardismof the immediate prerevolutionaryyears had al-
readylargely ousted nationalism. The aristocraticor bourgeois background
of Russian composers, past and present, rendered them members of the
enemy culture, and only Musorgsky's operas, now styled as "dramasof the
people," were spared by the zealous left Bolsheviks of the RAPM (Russian
Association of ProletarianMusicians). For the rival ASM (Association for
Contemporary Music), which drew its sustenance from Mahler, Schoen-
berg, and Krenek, casting The Five overboard seemed the proper solution
to what its members perceived as the problem of Russian musical provin-
cialism.
Attitudes toward folk music also changed. Though it might be expected
that the slogan of bringing high culture closer to the masses would en-
courage interest in folk music, the Bolshevik view of the peasant class as
reactionaryshifted attention from ruralto urban, and specificallyproletar-
ian, popular musical culture. For the first time, disseminators of folk music
had to find in it something specifically "revolutionary"or "progressive"
ratherthan merely national. For example, Arseny Avraamov-an early So-
viet experimental composer, sometime exponent of forty-eight-note equal
temperament, and pioneer of film sound-track synchronization methods,
who is remembered principally for his "Symphony of
Klaxons"--saw
"highly revolutionary elements" in the still unexplored modal structure
of folk music. He even hinted that startling intonational discoveries would
prove crucial for the development of "contemporarymusic, suffocating in
the grip of twelve-note temperament."2But as expectations of imminent
world revolution waned and the new regime began to come to terms with
the prospect of continuing indefinitely contra mundum, official Soviet
rhetoric returned to the familiarverities of nationalism. The turning point
was the disbanding of both the RAPM and the ASM in 1932, and their
replacement by the Union of Composers and its mouthpiece, the journal
Sovetskayamuzika. Glinka, Tchaikovsky, and The Five were then swiftly
rehabilitated, mythologized, and presented as the only legitimate starting
point for the future development of Soviet music.
2. Avraamov'scomments first appearedin Sovremennaya
muzika 22 (1927): 287; quoted
in I. Zemtsovsky, Fol'klori kompozitor(Leningrad and Moscow: Sovetskiy Kompozitor,
1978), 10-11.
334 Journalof the American
Musicological
Society
often as not the fruits of Russian labor. Since the creation of music was
regarded as much the same as any industrial process, composers, as
"culture-workers,"were expected to serve the state, often as members of a
collective. They were accorded specific tasks by the Party, which in general
followed the much-trumpeted "unanimous Soviet public opinion on mu-
sical issues" of Sovetskayamuzika.7 Constructing a national musical culture
was, like the building of a gigantic dam, a matter of concern for the whole
country.
The results were sometimes bizarre beyond any expectation. One small
collective consisting of two Russian composers and one native, known
under their combined surnames, Vlasov-Fere-Maldibayev,produced half a
dozen operas for the Uzbek nation. Another composer, Sergei Balasanian,
was of Armenian origin, though he was born in Turkmenistan. And whose
national composer did he become? Why, the Tajiks'. Reinhold Gliere,
after collecting every available award for composing the first Azerbaijani
national opera, moved on to Uzbekistan, where the Party thought his ex-
perience and talents were needed most urgently. Almost every Soviet com-
poser soon became involved in this campaign; it was by no means merely
a shrewd careermove for mediocrities. By way of illustration, consider the
fate of Alexander Mosolov and Nikolai Roslavets, known in the West as
early Soviet modernists. Mosolov became the first producer of a Turkmen
symphonic suite,8 while Roslavets composed a string quartet on Turkmen
themes; the latter also compiled and harmonized a collection of Uzbek folk
songs. The incentive to produce such music was indeed strong, for even the
ablest composers, since the Party's stated policy on music left but the nar-
rowest of straits between the Scylla of formalism and the Charybdis of ba-
nality. Folk music, it was even declared, was the only proper source for art
music:
All greatmasters,all great composersof the past (of all peoples,without
exception!)proceededfrom this [i.e., folk music]. And, on the contrary,
thosewho werelockedin a narrowworldof shallow,subjectivefeelings,and
who triedto "create[music]out theirown selves"--eventually found they
Whose Nationalism?
1939): 81-90. "Istoriya russkoy muziki" ("History of Russian Music"), edited by Mikhail
Pekelis (Moscow, 1940), was discussed in a meeting of Moscow composers and musicolo-
gists, reported in Sovetskayamuzfka (January-February 1948): 91: "Unfortunately, comrade
Pekelis did not subject his own work to sufficient criticism, particularlythe textbook on the
history of Russian music, which he edited and to which he contributed, and where, as he
himself admitted, the dependence of our musical culture on the West was unfoundedly em-
phasized, class struggle ignored, originality of Russian music and its leading position in world
music in the second half of the nineteenth century passed over."
17. Mugam (the same as Arabic maq'amand CentralAsian makom)is a traditional setting
of classicalpoetry (e.g., Nezami Genjavi) in the form of a large cyclic composition based on
elaborate vocal improvisation with instrumental accompaniment.
18. B. Zeidman, "Glibrei Azerbaijanskayamuzikal'nayakul'tura,"R. M. Glitre: Statyi,
vospominaniya,materialy,vol. 2 (Leningrad, 1966), 216-36.
"Nationalin Form, Socialistin Content" 341
prominent heirs to the Russian nationalist tradition of The Five, was sum-
moned to Baku. After conscientious study of the folk sources made avail-
able to him, he produced for the Azerbaijani nation an opera, Shahsenem,
which was first produced in Baku in 1927. Kuliev argued tirelessly for the
need to abandon the legacy of Persian cultural dominion, and to replace it
with a radicalwesternization of musical culture along Russian lines. One of
the main rebuttals offered by his opponents was that the non-European,
nondiatonic system of tuning employed in Azerbaijan constituted an in-
surmountable obstacle to westernization. Kuliev replied in this way:
Someof our musiciansarealwaysrepeatingthatTirk songscannotbe tran-
scribedwithinthe Europeansystem.ButRussianor Germansongscannotbe
fitted into the twelve-noteEuropeantemperamenteither.... Yet this did
not preventRussianmusicfroma wholesaleadoptionof Europeanfounda-
tions and techniques,or from developingthese to such heights as Glinka
did.19
A'.
Example1 AlexanderOlenin,Opera-songKudeyar
(a) Orchestralpreludeto act 1
4 WIN
-.. ...
.a I-
Example 1 continued
(b) Sceneof KudeyarandNastyafromact 4
iiI
a,4r W,
K• y rF mF
._
-sa- vi-tsa! Ya lyub- lyu te- bya da zhar-che prezh-ne- vo! A ye-
I.,
SAw I
IW
alism. Glazunov, principal heir to the Russian style and the most beloved
child of The Five, chose to refine his motivic and contrapuntal writing
along overtly German lines, and to develop without compunction his pen-
chant for Wagnerisms. Other graduates of the St. Petersburg Conservatory
seemed more loyal to the forms they learned from A. B. Marx than to the
idea of creating new forms out of Russia's noble clay.
25. Alexander Spendiarov, interview for the newspaper Kommunist (Baku), 26 March
1925, no. 66. Reprinted in Spendiarovo muzike (Yerevan: Izd-vo Tsk Kp Armenii, 1971),
53-57.
348 Journalof the AmericanMusicologicalSociety
"Strict"style
Folk
style
Folk style
• ! ! T t
!
'... ---,,-----
ld
J J -jJ
...• -J
. ,J .J -
Mosso
.' r4,=q
-i , 11F
4 -----
cresc. G G
PI udim."
f
Sf dim.
i b N
. .. 11"dl
6 6
3 m.d. 3
433 3
3-3
3
3
rI
•-]:
L F ; f"
I IL II1 1I-: ~ 1~ r
4- .#
10
rit.
3
aI 33
L--3. 8 5 ? . ?"
fairy-taleEast, but Russian composers were also happy to cultivate the ex-
otic, oriental image they enjoyed in the West. For the eastern republics,
however, Russia was a Western power, with a Western culture, and they
could not identify with it. Westernizing intellectuals within these societies
only reinforced the point: they wanted to emulate Russian culture because
its occidentalism was progressive, not because its oriental qualities could
be easily assimilated. Let us now explore the musical consequences of this
conceptual tangle.
"Nationalin Form,Socialistin Content" 353
Shadowsof Orientalism
Example6 ReinholdGliere,Shahsenem,
act 1, Kerib'saria
1, r r Frmmfii
Ya Ke- rib, pe- vets vdokh-no- ven- nYy, Lyut-sya
,9 I.IVIIV
1Y 4.0
0.•,- il
.. . . . r- r
. =",.
IF
-z
..+ •- -. -II• :• -
-dl ,r- o- ve
-stgso ,-..- • nf,. , e tr
.,J.!+
a' WNW
1
?:0" F
I. 21'" IV- ?
slav- myj moy ye- nets.
"Nationalin Form,Socialistin Content" 355
"Soon the melodic richness of the East will become the common property
of Soviet music, and Soviet culture will incorporate not single streams, but
the full waters of Eastern music."31And third, the fairy-tale and fantastic
elements of Russian orientalism contrasted with Soviet music, which,
while legitimately open to the earlier styles, did not allow its conventions
to overshadow the whole, diverse reality of the East. But while Rizhkin's
smooth arguments consigned problematic orientalism to the past, com-
posers living thousands of miles from his Moscow office were still greatly
vexed by the task of producing music that representedthe East. They could
not simply repeat the familiarformulas of the old orientalism, and yet their
music still had to be filtered through Western notation and assimilated to
Western forms and genres. Let us trace Gajibekov's approach to these is-
sues, with particular reference to his epic opera Keroglu, which he con-
sciously wrote as a corrective to the orientalism of Gliere's Shahsenem.
In his effort to overcome orientalist conventions, Gajibekov began,
naturally enough, with a careful study of "Azerbaijani"folk music and
on the basis of his findings attempted a theory of melodic modes.32 This
assumed--wrongly, as we have seen-that Azerbaijanwas a single nation
with a single culture, but for the moment we can set aside this reservation.
While he was occupied with developing his arguments and definitions, all
was well. But when the time came for him to apply his theories to his opera,
he was immediately confronted with a series of excruciating problems
involving tuning, polyphony, harmony, and vocal style. He could not in-
dulge in hand wringing for long, however, since he had a job to carryout
at the behest of the Soviet authorities. In the end he was apparentlyunable
to reconcile the demands of his nationalist agenda with those of the task in
hand, for his earlier pronouncements are clearly at odds with the actual
score of Keroglu.
With regardto tuning, Gajibekov agreed from the start that Azerbaijani
composers should adopt twelve-note equal temperament. In this, he was
merely accepting the pronouncement of Kuliev, the minister of Education;
there was probably little room for disagreement. Still, he was frank in ad-
mitting various difficulties. On the traditional tar (a lute with adjustable
frets), there could be twelve, thirteen, seventeen, or nineteen pitches within
the octave: for example, either two or three pitches might exist between D
and E, depending on the context. Gajibekov lucidly described how a mod-
ern piano would completely distort a folk melody that had a tonic on E,
another degree roughly the same as the piano's Eb/D#, and a third, fimc-
tionally distinct degree falling between these two (on the piano, this last
neither need suffer in the process. Indeed, he attributed the success of his
opera Keroglu among his own people to "purely national" modal writing:
It is suggestedthatifAzerbaijanimusic,whichis monodicby nature,wereto
be suppliedwith harmony,then all its modal characteristics
would be re-
duced to naught..... Unskillfulattachmentof harmonyto an Azerbaijani
melodycan changeits character,and neutralizeits vivid modaltraits,even
vulgarizeit. But this does not meanthatAzerbaijani
musicmustforeverre-
mainmonodic.37
Elsewhere he wrote:
Whileworkingon the operaKeroglu,I allowedmyselfto deviateoccasionally
fromthe strictframeworkof the folk style;that is, I composedit in a freer
manner.As the outcomeshowed,the operasucceeded,on the whole,to gain
accessto a wide stratumof listeners,becausethe modalsystemwasthe start-
ing point of its musicaltext and of my creativefantasy.38
Any idea we might form from these comments as to how Keroglu actually
sounds cannot help but be remote from the opera itself. As Example 7
demonstrates, Gajibekov employs Western tonal idioms more crudely than
his words suggested, and this tended to obliterate the modes he employed
in his melodies. What we hear in Example 7a is the minor subdominant in
a major key, fully in line with the orientalism of Glinka or Gliere, plus the
alternation of tonic major-minor, another cliche of exoticism. While it is
possible that a native Azerbaijanimight detect in Keroglusome faint traces
of national characteristics,just as Russian audiences perceive Glinka'sA
Lifefor the Tsarto be Russian in sound, westerners are unlikely to share this
perception. The music of the Russian nationalists had already demon-
strated that tonal harmony would always dominate and suppress the mo-
dality of a melody. Gajibekov made no substantial advances in assimilating
harmony to the modal characterof the melodies he used.
One perennial controversy arising from modality involved the notorious
augmented second. Though the use of this intervalwas purported to be an
invention of Russian orientalism, Armenians and Uzbeks considered it a
sign of Azerbaijani influence and thus sought to avoid it. Was it then an
authentic feature of Azerbaijani music? At the height of his early anti-
orientalist fervor, Gajibekov vehemently rejected any such notion: 'The
'oriental' style is a convention, a cliche that frees a composer from all re-
sponsibilities. It is largely representedby an abundant chromaticism, by the
augmented second, and by certain melodic idiosyncrasies. Azerbaijanimu-
sic has no chromaticism-we have, rather, the strictest diatonicism."39
Later, however, he conceded that two of the eight traditional modes did
13
Example7 continued
(a)
17
21
P o " o"r#
'' I -
i-.-... , , ,..
25
-dn, ai ,
360 Journalof the AmericanMusicologicalSociety
Example7 continued
(b)
A 1$
4.,raoiI i
diish
dfish dim
dfim Ni-
Ni- gar!
gar!
fI - -
i TL f' "JI d l dbl ?
UA
----
the timbre of the zurna (a Middle Eastern shawm) than the same cor an-
glais favored by the orientalists. In the end, the achievement of the anti-
orientalists was limited to an extension of the range of conventions used to
represent their musical cultures, such as doubling in fourths or the use of
clusters.
Of all the Soviet composers who emerged from the nationalist project,
only Aram Khachaturianattained world renown. It is ironic that his music
in no way challenges the Russian orientalist style. Never dissociating him-
self from the traditions of Russian music, he came to be regarded in Mos-
cow as a mouthpiece of the entire Soviet Orient, gathering up all the
diverse traditions into a grand generalization. His music suggests that the
following remarkis more than a mere demonstration of loyalty to humor
the authorities:
[Russianorientalmusic] showed me not only the possibility,but also the
necessity,of a rapprochement between,and mutualenrichmentof, Eastern
and Westerncultures,of Transcaucasian musicand Russianmusic..... the
orientalelementsin Glinka'sRuslan,andin Balakirev's
TamaraandIslamey,
were strikingmodelsfor me, and provideda strongimpulsefor a new cre-
ativequestin this direction.42
It is hardly surprising that Khachaturian'smost popular piece, the Sabre
Dance, was parodied mercilessly by Nino Rota in the satirical orientalist
episode in Fellini'sAmarcord.And this leads us to ask whether any Eastern
nationalism can make a clean break with the orientalist tradition, at least
within the sphere of tonal harmony. Indeed, is any nationalism possible
beyond the limits of tonal harmony? An Armenian scholar (who must re-
main nameless) recently sought to convince me that an Armenian national
twelve-tone music could and did exist. But what would an Armenian au-
dience recognize with delight in a twelve-tone series?Would they be filled
with that immediate, irrationalpride in their nation that was so successfully
kindled by the nationalists of a previous generation? It was this need for
popular sympathy that caused the composers of the Soviet republics to
maintain a simple style: they were not merely responding to the strictures
of socialist realism. Often lacking the expertise and innovative spirit of the
composers of the Russian orientalist classics, the indigenous musicians had
only one potential advantage: their knowledge of a large corpus of folk
melodies. But these folk songs had lost many of their characteristicsin the
process of notation, and the composers' native experience of Eastern mu-
sical traditions proved next to useless, owing to the compromises they had
to make in the interests of the chosen Western genre and medium. The
Soviet project of creating a national system of harmony or counterpoint
was from the outset virtually doomed, as was the Russian nationalism be-
fore it. The underlying problem besetting national composers of the Soviet
42. Aram Khachaturian,quoted in D. A. Arutyunov,A. Khachaturiani muzikaSovetskogo
Vostoka:Yazik, stil, traditsii (Moscow, 1983), 15.
"Nationalin Form,Socialistin Content" 363
Asian republics was that they chose to represent their native musical cul-
tures within an imported Western tradition, and thus inevitably entangled
themselves in the orientalism they hoped to repudiate.
The investigation of musical nationalism in the Soviet republics would
be incomplete if we were not to place it within the context of socialist re-
alism. After all, in the Stalin slogan used as the title of the present article,
the diversifying tendency of "nationalin form" was counterbalancedby the
unifying tendency of "socialistin content." And while the national element
was a feature of the existing Soviet Union, the socialist element was meant
to usher in a nationless future. Let us then examine what was, in terms of
Stalin's version of Marxism-Leninism, the socialist dimension of the
project.
"Socialist in Content"
many ways, the style of Zhdanov's 1948 speech is a triumph of Soviet mu-
sic criticism: it mixes Party dogma and random phrases from music theory
primers in order to lend weight to arbitrary and uninformed personal
tastes, skillfully masked as careful deliberations underlying official policy.
For all that, of course, criticism did become policy.
"Socialist realism"was never worked out as a coherent theory, although
enormous efforts were expended in attempting to create the illusion of one.
Rather, it amounted only to a range of slogans with obscure gray valleys
between them. In truth, officials found this vagueness and lack of coher-
ence far too useful to be sacrificed,for it allowed them unlimited flexibility
in manipulating artists. Given two works of similarcharacter,one might be
praised and the other condemned, according to some momentary official
whim. Attacks on composers were sometimes based on nothing more than
fear that the absence of criticism might attractunwelcome attention to the
critic concerned: no one wanted to march out of step. Prokofiev and Shos-
takovich each composed a prizewinning Fifth Symphony, and each com-
posed a Sixth that won equal measures of condemnation; no one could
predict when and where the sword would fall. This was itself the guiding
idea behind the arbitrary and contradictory surface of policy decisions.
From our perspective, socialist realism in literature, painting, and music
alike was merely a futile recycling of nineteenth-century "criticalrealism"
into a prescribeduncritical utopianism. The forms of Tolstoy's novels, Re-
pin's pictures, and Musorgsky's operas were to be filled with positive he-
roes, happy faces, and triumphant sounds. In other words, socialist art was
to be familiar in form and anodyne in content. Or is this really a formula
for the abolition of art?Is not art without creativitythe perfect correlatefor
elections without choice and trials without law?
After the musical purge of 1948, when nearly all the leading Soviet com-
posers were declared formalists and even their names became taboo, the
music produced in the republics edged back into the foreground once
more, having been overshadowed in the late 1930s and early 1940s by the
prizewinning efforts of Prokofiev, Shostakovich, and Nikolai Myaskovsky.
The status that Prokofiev and Shostakovich had enjoyed proved to be frag-
ile, while Gajibekov's, for example, was entirely secure. One of the 1948
Stalin Prizes went to Estonia for a cantataloyally dedicated to Stalin by one
Tallat-Kelpsha.55This was seen as an event of some importance, since it
showed that a new sister republic was able to take part in the great cultural
project; the piece immediately received the highest praise. It would be fair
to conclude that the music written under the rubric "national in form,
55. The Stalin Prize was the main state award given to artists and scientists from 1940 to
1952. Reintroduced in 1966 under the name "State Prize of the USSR," it continued to be
awarded until the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991.
"Nationalin Form, Socialistin Content" 369
56. Yuri Slezkine, Arctic Mirrors: Russia and the Small Peoplesof the North (Ithaca and
London: Cornell University Press, 1994), 33-45. On the conquest of the New World, see
Stephen Greenblatt,MarvelousPossessions: The Wonderof theNew World(Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 1991).
370 Journalof the AmericanMusicologicalSociety
canto did not fade from popularity, but rather extended the limits of what
was heard as belonging to the nation.
At the same time, Soviet policies regarding industrialization and edu-
cation contributed to nation building in socioeconomic terms. The newly
built countries and their cultural nationalism were gradually meshing. Ar-
menians are proud of Khachaturian and consider him a national treasure,
even though he was born in Georgia, lived in Moscow, and, like everyone
else, followed the Party'sorders; there is no sign that they are disturbed by
his manifest acquiescence in Russian orientalism. A very different variety of
nationalism, promoting a culture of resistance, had arisen in the previous
century and had resulted in, for example, the invention of a special Arme-
nian musical notation. But this type of nationalism was completely eradi-
cated during the Soviet era as an atavistic bourgeois tendency; it is hardly
likely to flourish today in the majority of the newly independent states,
which now look beyond Russia toward the Western, democratic model.
We shall surely witness a new wave of musical nationalism in these coun-
tries, as well as increased interaction with the West-now without Russia
as mediator. Yet what happened to them in the Soviet past will never be
completely erased and will in some form continue to shape their future.
Abstract