Confetti in a Cracker
Someone may take it as pretence, when a beautiful woman in her prime reflects upon life and death. When she writes songs, which almost don't reach radio and TV air, but which in some magic way spread among her fans. When she wears long dresses, believes in miracles, writes poems, and follows the principles, different from those that guide most of our contemporaries. You may take it as pretence, but only until you speak to Olga Arefieva in person. Then it turns out that it is not pretence. It is attitude to life.
- Is it really you on the cover of the "Anatomy" album?
- Yes, it is true.
- If it's not a secret, why did you pose nude for the cover?
- This picture is ten years old, and I almost forgot its story. Actually, I'm wearing shorts there, but it's a secret (laughs). But in fact I'm not afraid of the concept of nakedness. Human body is beautiful. What matters is that it wouldn't become a commercial thing.
- Does Peter Akimov think the same thing?
- As far as I know, he doesn't mind the cover.
- And how did it happen that you decided to resume your collaboration?
- Either Peter came to Moscow from St. Pete where he lives, or first I was in St. Pete in passing. Chiefly, a lot of things had come up while we were not playing together, and we were afraid to begin everything anew. At that time the world around us and we ourselves were going through incredible changes. Many people think that "Aku-Aku" is the best thing I've done in my life, the only thing. After "Aku-Aku" there were successful projects, but this, the most sincere one, perished. Very few people heard the amateur recordings. This project is not some elitist one, but it was intended for the people who feel. Sergey Kalugin, for instance, after listening to it fell in love without ever seeing me.
- Are you planning to release it now?
- To release it now we have to be able to restore the recording. And you could call a romance what we are doing now.
- Do I understand you correctly - Arefieva and Akimov are having an affair?
- I mean that our concerts are stories with an entanglement, evolution and a denouement. For a selection of these lyrics the "Znamya" magazine gave me a literary award.
- Why did you stop playing with Akimov after such a successful project ("Aku-Aku")?
- Because at some point Peter and I just couldn't play together any more. We were thrown away from each other. If we attempted to play together, we almost fainted away. There was a five-year break. Then we had long telephone conversations discussing whether we would be able to enter this river for the second time and understand what was happening to us, whether we'd find this strength in ourselves. And then there happened a miracle. And when a miracle happens to a person, it might be the present, which he didn't deserve yet. And it could take just one day to ruin it. And to get it back you would need years of work and hope. When we met with Peter in St. Pete after all these years, you could say we were trembling. We decided to play old songs, but all of a sudden the new ones poured out. At first we didn't even believe ourselves. I think that on this album we rose to the level of "Aku-Aku", and maybe now it is this, which is the best that I've done in my life. Now Peter and I understand: what was happening to us then wasn't something rational. It just fired and that's it. Now we came up to the same thing more consciously. I guess that's a new level.
- You first performed this program in St. Pete?
- Yes, the first concert was in St. Pete because I was afraid to do it in Moscow. At first, half of it was new songs and another half old because not everything was written at that time. By the concert in Moscow the program was entirely new. And another miracle is that this program for all that was recorded. With us, something constantly crops up at the best moments - a camera turns off, we run out of tape, a recorder goes down. The album is entirely live, there isn't anything recorded in a studio on it. As a result, the sound had to be cleared afterwards. The sound producer who was doing it in the studio says that in the song "Adam" at the mark "666" something strange was going on. A couple of times the computer blacked out, then the light turned off, the voltage was jumping, some strange clicks popped up and he couldn't take them off. He did everything - from cursing to praying, and in the end he even got drunk out of grief. We understood that some dark forces didn't like this song. Those were some little scary tricks that we shouldn't be afraid of. Very often they symbolize that something important is going on. You just shouldn't lose your heart and in the end everything will be all right.
- Do such things occasionally make you postpone a project for some time?
- No. The very appearance of something is a sign in itself. Other signs are secondary and don't convey anything. What does a black cat matter compared to a miracle? The song itself is like an angel's apparition. It's an unordinary state. Sometimes it doesn't come for a long time and you live in a vacuum. It seems that all your abilities failed you and you won't create anything any more. And then all of a sudden it comes. You won't confuse it with anything and without any doubt will make everything for it to stay that way.
- Does it mean that for this state you can do something evil?
- How in the world would a song require something evil? For a song you just need to be open. A good person can write something and a bad person can write something. A good person may turn out creatively impotent and a bad person may turn out creatively impotent. There are no rules here or we just don't know them. You could say that art appears due to strong feelings, at a breaking point in your life, due to the realization of something important, due to reaching wisdom. A person who suffered a lot and who reflects a lot has greater chances to create something. Sometimes it happens, though, that puppies with sawdust in their heads create such things that you just marvel at it. I don't know where they get it. You can't grasp it by the tail and can't write out a formula for it.
- So you don't know where your albums come from?
- Appearance of albums is guided by some mysterious rules: some just pop out, and with some - you bear them, try to give them birth and in the end they turn out completely worthless. "Anatomy" popped out itself. We didn't bear plans: we are going to rehearse now and record a genial disc. All this was mixed up on vague premonitions and hopes. And suddenly we have a double disc and some material is still left.
- How did you get this little scar on your nose?
- When I was a little girl, I was taking a walk around a park with my parents. And suddenly a storm began with a very loud thunder. It was the Day of the city and there were a lot of people on the roads, so I ran across the lawn. But it happened to be fenced by the wire, which was right on the height of my nose, and I ran into it. So for the rest of my life I was left with such a noble Roman nose.
- A scar on the face is also a mark?
- God marks a rogue? (Laughs) But if it was not for this Roman nose I wouldn't resemble Akhmatova in appearance. I would have simple straight nose. Maybe this gain had its meaning?
- When military operations began in Chechnya, almost every TV channel began rotating the video for the song "What the Hell We need a War For". As a rule, your videos are aired very rarely.
- This song somehow provokes people to do strange things. I was writing it as a little tale about life eternal and life mortal. I wrote about people being captives of the Babylon - false values, false war. And sometimes they have insights; they wake up and understand that all this is trifle. And they begin moving toward eternal life. In the temporary world it may look like death. But actually it is birth rather than death. This is what this song is about, as I meant it. And the video was brought to the air, and then taken off again. Its first appearance on TV coincided with the beginning of the Chechen war, and it was taken off the air. Then they began to show it from time to time, and in a couple of years all channels suddenly aired it on the Victory Day. But nobody asked me. I'm just watching all this with interest.
- Are you in any way touched by politics?
- I don't follow politics and don't watch TV. I consider it dross that was made up so that people wouldn't by accident think of the things that matter. I prefer not to know unnecessary stuff. The things I need I will find out anyway. And to follow the news all the time - who killed whom, what was exploded - I won't say that it's silly, I'll just say that it's not for me.
- You are not afraid that this way you'll find out too many important things?
- First, you have to understand what the knowledge is. One thing is the junk, the conglomeration of facts. Another thing is the knowledge of monks who don't know what aerobics is and where kiwi is grown. They simply don't need that. People are talking with God, why would they need aerobics? If we are talking about this kind of knowledge, then you can't have too much of that.
- You said on one occasion that it is very important to get prepared to the meeting with God.
- Yes, I said that.
- Are you prepared?
- How can I say that I'm prepared? Monks who have taken strict vows think that they are not prepared enough, so who am I to say that I'm ready?
- And what is so terrible about you?
- Well, they say Got doesn't welcome people performing on the stage.
- There are artists who isolate themselves from the audience when they come up to the stage. They are in themselves and the audience is in themselves. As for you, you are very open on the stage. It must be difficult, isn't it?
- And easy at the same time. Yes, I always get sick after concerts. That's why I can't give performances too often. It takes long to prepare for the concert and then to recover from it. I'm left empty after concerts, but there is nothing to be afraid of. The more you give, the more will pour in you. If you don't give anything, then everything inside you will grow musty.
- And what fills you in?
- Just life. Trees, people, animals, books, music, food, sleep. Air.
- How do you live in Moscow's air?
- Oh, I live just like that. Go to parks, to the country.
"Rovesnik" Magazine # 9, 2001
Natalia Economtseva
Translated by O. Bezhina