xyr1.jpeg

x.y.r

cherepovets

Around us all was still––so still, in fact, that one could follow a mosquito's path by the hum of its wings

Кругом было тихо, так тихо, что по жужжанию комара можно было следить за его полетом

Mikhail Lermontov, “Bela” (1840)

Let’s handle the complicated stage name first. The lowercase “xyr” is taken from a world-famous novel of 1842, “Dead Souls” by Nikolay Gogol. The central character, Chichikov, travels the nation in an attempt to buy as many dead serfs––or “souls” as possible. Not corpses, but their names on public registers, which can still be bought and sold. A landowner can build up a legally acceptable list of serfs whom he owns––but none of whom are alive.

This dark comedy involves a provincial landowner, Manilov, who turns his gazebo into an absurdly sentimental “Temple of Solitary Musing” (Xram Uedinennogo Razmyshleniya). And that gives us “xyr,” the small and self-deprecating moniker chosen by Cherepovets resident Vladimir Karpov. His understated, profoundly romantic instrumentals are often dedicated to explorers, travelers, and other intrepid souls. They chase ideals lacking at home.

Perhaps the clearest example would be Karpov’s “Lost Soundtrack” to Robinson Crusoe. Pivotal moments in the novel are turned into contemplative tape music, the fading sounds of which suggest, sadly, that such heroes of solitary musing no longer exist.

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