The Art of the Tusovka

Just two or three years ago, western pop concerts in Russia were a special preserve, a haven for the weary souls of worn-out rock veterans. Long-forgotten dinosaurs like Uriah Heep and Asia were still favorites among long-haired provincials, though barely more than one hit wonders in their own countries.

In Moscow, their saccharine sounds would attract thousands-strong audiences, eager to relieve boredom and taste the exotic. The state"s concert monopoly, combined with incoherent bureaucracy and an undiscerning public, coalesced to form the anemic style of the Soviet live music scene.

There were a few performances, though, outstanding enough to be remembered for decades. The Duke Ellington orchestra at the end of the 1960s, Elton John at the end of the 1970s, and UB40 and Pink Floyd at the dawn of perestroika showed that the local music scene could consist of more than fringe elements invited by the aesthetes of the Soviet concert establishment. They also proved how western show business could amaze here with its genuine artistic flair.

In the late 80s, as perestroika took a firmer hold, and the law on cooperatives generated the first sparks of private enterprise, the State Concert Committee began to disintegrate, and the more visible rock enthusiasts were no longer subjected to criminal investigations.

The first attempts by independent promoters were modest, yet promising. In 1989, Paul Simon sang in the Green Theater in Gorky Park. With virtually no advertising he attracted 1200 people at three rubles apiece (then $5 at the official, inflated exchange rate). In the same year, alternative rockers Sonic Youth filled an auditorium at a hotel on the outskirts of Moscow, while Bob Dylan read poetry to a packed house in Moscow"s Luzhniki Stadium.

But it was the heavy metal bands who made the decisive breakthroughs that year. Events like the Peace Festival at Lenin Stadium, featuring the Scorpions and Ozzie Ozborne, became internationally-known events. They confirmed that Russia could organize major concerts involving complex arrangements and large sums of money.

But live music by western bands was not even a regular feature yet in Russia, let alone a business. Independent promotion companies didn"t start to appear until 1992-1993. Even as novices, they were more than a match for the unprofessional State Concert Committee.

The most ambitious and adventurous event came in the summer of 1993, when an unknown trading company called DESSA pumped millions of dollars into a Michael Jackson concert in Moscow. Bad weather and high ticket prices made it a fiasco, and even now no one knows how great the losses were. But experts claim that this was the event that put Russia on the map for the major western concert agencies. As a result, in 1993-1994 such varied names as the Gypsy Kings, Ray Charles and Run DMC gave concerts in Moscow and St. Petersburg.

Practically every day last summer saw at least one concert by a Western artist in Moscow. Over the span of just several weeks, stars like Roxette, Diana Ross, Elton John, Julio Iglesias and Manhattan Transfer all performed.

As with many major events in Russia, these concerts invite all sorts of strange behavior, not least in the buying and selling of tickets...

On an unusually hot night this past summer at the Kremlin’s Kutafya Tower, security officers and militia were busy checking the tickets and bags of concert-goers on their way to see American diva Diana Ross. Some entered, but others just hung around near the entrance. They seemed to be waiting for something, spare tickets perhaps, though everyone knew these were available at the box office.

During the two weeks before the concert, ticket prices had been reduced several times (as officially stated, this was insisted on by the sponsor, AT&T). Beginning at R1,500,000 (over $300), the best seats were eventually cut to R600,000, but even this was much more than the market would bear. No wonder that only a select circle of people - foreigners, businessmen, Mafiosi and the cream of the cultural elite - could afford to see Diana Ross.

Five minutes before the beginning of the concert, people were still waiting outside. Only informed journalists and the organizers understood what was going on.

A week prior, Elton John had given a concert on the same stage. Although there was great excitement about his visit, tickets  even at the reduced price  did not sell well. Many people who saw the TV commercials did not even try to buy tickets, knowing in advance that they couldn"t afford it.

When the organizers, an experienced company called SAV Entertainment, realized they wouldn’t fill half the venue, they desperately slashed ticket prices a few hours before the show. Then every half hour they dropped further. People were seen scurrying through the crowd selling tickets for thirty dollars...then for twenty... According to some witnesses, there were even advertising cars driving the streets of Moscow distributing free tickets through their windows.

The start of the concert was delayed for an hour while the theater was gradually filled. The next day, as word got around, the number of satisfied customers could be measured by the price of their ticket. Paradoxically, somebody had even managed to sell the last few tickets for $500 and even $600 after the concert had started.

The ticket story, however, bears no relation to the success of the performance: though both singers were as classy as ever, their styles were unusual to a Russian audience. But both Elton John and Diana Ross (and later Julio Iglesias) felt that something was wrong at their shows.

Long accustomed to inspired crowds, wild dancing and a sea of flowers, they were met with an uncommonly constrained response. The elegantly dressed spectators remained glued to their seats and applauded obediently. Only foreign students in the back rows tried to sing along with Elton John and a drunken American couple blew kisses to Diana Ross.

All three stars appeared somewhat bewildered and disappointed on stage. Diana Ross even cut short her first concert in Moscow, though fortunately the public didn't notice. She left out her last three songs and surprised her musicians by suddenly bidding farewell to the audience.

Nevertheless, all three guest singers received excellent reviews and a rapturous reaction from the public. So what was the problem? You don"t have to be an expert, just a Russian, to understand that a concert in the Kremlin is something special, serious and solemn for former Soviet citizens. It is just not proper for Russians to cut loose in a place where only five years ago the Communist Party was making decisions affecting the nation’s destiny. Velvet Kremlin chairs do not make Russians feel like letting their hair down.

As for the promoters, they are far from happy, their mood a mixture of hysterical tension and disappointment. Nadezhda Solovyova, a co-owner of SAV Entertainment, sees little chance that normal procedures will be established for performers touring in Russia. Neither the financial system, nor the organizational procedure, nor the management culture in Russia has been able to adapt to decades-old western show business practices.

It"s a little like the discomfort that guests can feel in the home of a newly-wedded couple. The inexperienced hosts fuss about, make a mess on the table and argue about the seating arrangements. Guests and hosts have to get used to each other and the hosts have to learn the difficulties of protocol. In the young Russian concert business, the red carpets are being laid out for the first time. Sometimes unforgivable mistakes are made.

Concerts by Rod Stewart and Bon Jovi have been canceled. A widely advertised performance by Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page and Robert Plant was dropped in scandalous circumstances which still haven"t come to light. In spite of two decisions taken at the governmental level to invite The Rolling Stones, both times the concerts failed to happen for reasons which remain a mystery.

More controversy was raised by the recent Duma election campaign, when Prime Minister Victor Chernomyrdin"s election bloc, "Our Home Is Russia",  invited performers like Kool & the Gang and MC Hammer to give live concerts in Moscow. Though the organizers, Cultural Initiative, claimed not to be part of the campaign itself, the political link clearly embarrassed some musicians. Former Deep Purple bassist Glenn Hughes said he felt "really stupid"  he had only found out about "Our Home" from the media.

However, he and others dutifully performed, refusing to let politics get in the way of music.

When such irregularities are rife, it is difficult today to take the measure of Russia"s reputation in world show business circles (except in the classical music sphere, where old traditions continue). Too little has been settled, and it is difficult to distinguish rules from exceptions. But one thing is for sure - there are plenty of challenges for new promoters to take up.

People do love music in Russia.

*Tusovka (’óñîâêà) - a large popular and fashionable event.