As we approach the second anniversary of Russia’s brutal and unprovoked invasion of the sovereign nation of Ukraine, and the one-week anniversary of the murder of Alexei Navalny, it is a reasonable question to ask. Ukraine, contrary to what the brutal Putin regime would have you believe, has a long and unique cultural history, including its own language. In spite of Russia’s multiple attempts to subsume this nation over the centuries, the Ukrainian culture has endured, and I believe that we, as Americans, should do whatever we can to support Ukraine’s valiant resistance to a Russian takeover. For me, that includes the immediate release of funding that is currently stalled in congress, as well as a clear and ongoing commitment to continue that support for as long as it takes for Ukraine to repel all invading Russian forces. We should also loudly and consistently honor Mr. Navalny for his bravery, articulateness and willingness to sacrifice his own life to further the cause of a Russia free from authoritarian rule and brutality.
Regarding Russia and its artists, I do believe it is necessary to distinguish between artists alive and working today — artists such as opera singer, Anna Netrebko, who has refused to renounce Putin and his war, as well as conductor Valery Gergiev, who has avidly embraced Putin for years, and continues to support him, even after the invasion of Ukraine — and someone like Chekhov, who died nearly one hundred and twenty years ago. Living artists have a responsibility to choose which side they will be on, while artists long dead simply do not have that ability, to state the obvious.
Unfortunately, we do not have Chekhov around to ask his opinion on things, but based on the deep empathy and humanity he displays in all his writing, from his letters and short stories to his plays, my instinct is he would strongly condemn such a senseless and brutal war fought on false pretenses. He never displayed any evidence of jingoism or love of war in his lifetime that I have been able to discover. In addition, Three Sisters contains within it an implicit critique of Russian’s militarized culture, which allowed an entire class of nobility to avoid engaging meaningfully with the world. In addition, within four years of the play’s premiere, Russia would lose the Russo-Japanese war, palpable proof of the foolishness of Russian adventuristic foreign policy.
|