A Midnight Journey of the Mind...

I have always found writing in solitude, whether it's a song, an article or just a blog, incredibly soothing and relaxing for both mind and soul. If you also manage to play the music you love in the background and let your inner self take over the tangible "you" ....

To me, that's heaven on earth!

It has just gone past 1 a.m. EST, and being a natural "owl" and not an early bird, it's not surprising to find myself in front of the laptop with a cup of tea clutched in my hand, and piles of paperwork and this week's press cuts scattered across the table.

The music in the background? (No, not my own! I wouldn't be able to relax in that case.) "Color Me Kubrick" movie soundtrack is anything but commercial and dull (no, the two don't always go hand in hand!) although it does require a certain degree of concentration, peace and quiet. Granted!

Nothing gives me more satisfaction in my rare moment's of complete solitude like spending an hour flipping through brand new music, as well as previously undiscovered and perhaps not so commercially successful songs and artists and downloading the selection onto my iPod. I get almost as excited as I used to when I was a little girl, driving with Dad to the out-of-town record story in Russia ever other weekend to purchase the latest releases from the "capitalist world".

Do you ever come across a song that you really didn't like before and totally dismissed upon hearing it initially, but years later realize it's a real gem? That's precisely what I went through this evening as I listened to all sorts of records I've owned for years but never really took the time to "get into". And I suppose that's when you realize it's so worth making music, doing what you love the most, even though sometimes it's hard and next to impossible - like banging your head against the wall until you finally get your message across after trying relentlessly for so long.

Just before I started writing this blog, I watched a music video on youtube that really had inspired me on so many levels as a child, it's staggering! It was filmed in a recording studio in the early 90's and there's a puppy in the video - attending the session! - that I had so envied as a little girl, wishing I were him for an hour or two. I was fascinated by the concept of recording and the equipment took my breath away - it was so unlike anything else we had seen on MTV prior to that. One of those moments when you say to yourself: "This is it, that's what I want to do for the rest of my life!"

Of course it doesn't always work out that way, but when it does, albeit very rarely and perhaps not 100% according to the plan, there's nothing more gratifying for the soul and generally for the "inner child" whom we owe so much of our dreams, aspirations and where we are today - the reality at present.

So many of my friends wanted to become doctors, teachers, actresses and policemen when I was a kid. Whereas some of them had absolutely no idea what they wanted to do when they grew up.

For me, on the other hand, there was never a plan B. And I don't think that was necessarily a great thing, either. I was deprived of the flexibility to make one's own choices as an adult - in my case, there was no alternative option quite early on. It was either music, music or music - period.

As a result, I ended up trying a few additional tricks here and there to make sure it wasn't just a childhood whim or mental obsession of sorts. I studied journalism instead of music after high school, pursued foreign languages instead of concentrating on piano lessons and got a job as a UK Correspondent for a French women's interest magazine in Russia.

End result? I always kept coming back to what I loved the most deep down. It wasn't really about fame or mega success. In fact, I still don't have the urge to see my face on magazine covers.

True, it will be nice - we all have egos, after all. But the true purpose of the journey, the big goal down the road is somewhat different - and it's not so easy to express it verbally, to be honest.

Cynics will always say it's a cover up, but there is nothing more banal than defining one's goal in a mere sentence.

A certain degree of positive feedback, a minimal success is undoubtedly gratifying, I am sure. Yet what counts the most underneath it all isn't superficial, although it may be slightly cheesy for some to digest.

This wasn't really supposed to be an ode to childhood dreams, so please forgive the mumbling at this late hour.

As overdue work won't submit its own deadlines by itself, it is now time to get back to the real world and switch the music off once again.....

Good night, sweet dreams x

Keep Yourself from Idols... Should I?

"Tell me who's your role model and I'll tell you who you are," someone I have a lot of respect in the world of arts said to me many years ago. I was too young to understand the true essence of what he was trying to say with this pompous-sounding statement, but years later, I realized there was more to it than "who's style do you prefer and who's album cover do you dislike".

There's a famous Russian saying derived from the Bible, I believe: "Don't make an idol for yourself" ("ne sotvori sebe kumira") but for whatever reason, it was never a motto I used in my early years. Perhaps it's for the better - that way, I had taken the time and effort to really delve into every ounce of my favorite artists' work and artistic being.

One of my favorites (not the most loved one, but easily the next one down) was an adult contemporary vocal sensation of the 90's who became particularly huge in the latter half of the decade onwards - just as I had approached my teens and had definitely decided to pursue a singing career.

It was at the time when the internet had a few more years to go before it had hit every single household in Russia in a big way. So album sleeves with credits, fan club and management info's were the only source for the determined teenager in Moscow.

I had barely turned 13 when one day I decided to write to her and send one of her songs I had recorded by myself in my bedroom - something I wouldn't have done if I hadn't loved her that much (not a typical "fan" and never have been, for some reason).

Believe it or not (and let's not forget that it was right after Russia's initial introduction and first steps towards capitalism and westernization), in the middle of our morning class at school, I got called into my Principal's office: "Your mom's on the phone" (there were no mobile phones at youngsters' disposal at the time...) What could it be, I wondered....

"Are you sitting down? You got a letter through the mail... From across the Atlantic..." I couldn't believe what my mom was saying - it was so surreal, especially living in a rather isolated world detached from the rest of the western hemisphere altogether... And all of a sudden, a letter from the management of someone I had loved and looked up to - needless to say, I was speechless and couldn't wait to get home from school to see the letter with my own eyes!

And there it was.... Beautifully printed with gold font at the top - quite different from our local barely visible print on poor, worn out paper, that's for sure!

The sweet note was signed by a direct contact at the management company who also happened to be related to the artist herself and whose name (being a die-hard fan) was very familiar to the 13-year-old.

It was so overwhelming - I decided to keep the letter (and have done so, in fact) and promised myself that one day I would work with the people who had been directly involved in making her records that I had played over and over again and sang along with enthusiastically in our little Moscow apartment....

There's something inexplicably satisfying in the very knowledge that I have indeed kept the promise made to my 13-year-old self. And although the dream is still a journey and a reality in the making, it makes me feel immensely warm deep down whenever I remember literally obsessing over the little details and bit and pieces of what is now my life - my very own career that seemed like a faraway dream back then, although there are still miles and miles to go before it's fully achieved.

As for the artist mentioned above, I watched one of her latest "behind the scenes" sessions the other day and I have to admit, it was a truly disappointing sight. Having lost her charisma and artistic honesty completely, I thought I was watching an ultimately fabricated and calculated show - and if that's what they call "behind the scenes".... Wow.

It is a shame that anyone who makes it THAT big is expected to "lose it" and become totally alien to the very notion of reality - they are always expected to lose their sense of being a part of something larger and more important than their own persona. It's as if they live on a different planet altogether where the rest of the universe revolves around them. Unfortunately, more often than not, that's precisely what happens.

As Maria Callas used to say, an artist's responsibility is to serve something bigger than himself/herself - the art. Except it's usually the other way around in this day and age of the showy show business.... Music serves the artistic ego and not vice versa.

What can you do..... Just enjoy the music, I suppoose, while the rest takes care of itself...

Happy Independence Day vs. Victory Day!

And here comes the much anticipated, as all the other celebrations that result in a long weekend, Independence Day!

Having lived here for just over three and a half years, I am rarely as excited about the event as most of my friends, particularly because I have never been big on fireworks!

The closest equivalent of the US Independence Day back in Russia is by far May 9th, the traditional day when first the USSR, and now its principal successor state, Russia, proudly marks "Victory Day" as its most sacred of all public holidays.

Probably the only other public celebration that can easily beat the V Day in Russia is Dec 31st, New Year's Eve. The pompousness of Christmas in the West has always bewildered me, and yet I've always felt slightly jealous because we don't have a remotely similar grandeur over Christmas back home, which by the way takes place on January 7th. Nothing compares the vivaciousness in the streets of Moscow on New Year's Eve - every family celebrates it like the joy and festivity of Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year all assembled into one night, December 31st, when the President of Russia makes his annual speech broadcasted on every Russian channel exactly at midnight.

Unusual to talk about New Year's celebrations on a humid July afternoon, isn't it. But it really is the biggest public festivity back home that brings people closer for that one night when everything seems hopeful, positive and brand new. May 9th is fun, albeit somewhat bureaucratic, whereas December 31st is what the whole year is all about. I am sure it is a big deal everywhere, but since Christmas seems to be the "ultimate" in the western world, we just make up for it altogether a week later on our side of the pond!

I still remember the night of Dec. 31st - Jan. 1st, 1993-1994 in Moscow, on Stariy Arbat (Old Arbat) Street in the very heart of the city - the night when the first President of the post-Soviet Republic of Georgia, Zviad Gamsakhurdia, was allegedly killed in Chechnya, and my cousin Ketuta, both 9 years of age, with eyes wide open watched the evening news with my parents in the living room.

Ketuta has still not forgotten the Christmas Tree (we call them the New Year's trees back home, hence the big night) that my dad creatively came up with the night before the celebration.... Christmas trees were a big deal at the time - in order to get a good one, you'd have to look for it all over the city and then pay an absolute fortune (well, for us it was quite a lot), so instead, Dad, being a painter himself, decided to paint a Christmas tree on the wall - literally. We bought small decorations for the "tree" and decorates the wall so beautifully and had so much fun doing it - to us, it really seemed like the most gorgeous Christmas tree in the whole wide world! It's true when they say that the little things are what really counts!

Sorry for getting carried away, but since we were discussing the public holidays, such as the one on this very day, the time machine did its little trick on me yet again.

As for the Independence Day celebrations tonight, everyone seems so excited about it, let's just hope the grey skies permit the excitement to flourish to its maximum potential! I remember every time the weather turned out to be disappointing on the Victory Day back in Moscow, the Mayor of the city used to make the clouds "go away" - not metaphorically but literally - with a click of a button... Quite cool, actually. But can't really be an ecologically "natural" process, can it?

A voice on the radio

In a strange way, everything started when I was lying in bed one night with a mild brain concussion and listening to one of the Russian commercial radio stations - something I had never really done before. Madonna's "Frozen" had just premiered on a show called "Live from the West" hosted by Yegor Shishkovsky from the UK. I was fascinated by the show, the unusual format (not many stations back home were so up to date about foreign music and news live from the West in the late 90's) and its charming host who spoke the classiest Russian I had heard in years!

And so the 14-year-old girl with her earphones plugged into her ears in the middle of the night waiting for Shishkovsky's weekly program became a fan. I think I even emailed him one day, but of course, he never replied! Too many fans, too little time, I thought.

However, one day I heard that he was coming to his native Moscow and hosting a quick meet & greet for his fans at one of the primary expo centers near to my home in the city. Having the coolest father in the world, the moment I asked him if we could go, he didn't hesitate for a second. Why was I bothering? I have no idea! I'd never been a "fanatic" of any kind, I could care less about autographs and signed pictures no matter how much I love someone for their work. Even my mother raised an eyebrow when she saw us standing in the doorway at 9.30am on our way to meet the radio DJ. "You're both crazy," she mumbled and gave us a quick wave.

The amount of fans at the venue was quite overwhelming, I barely got to the front of the line, but was disappointed when all I got in return was a generic "hi, what's your name? Tina. OK, he's my photo with an autograph! Thanks for coming. Bye." Abrupt or what, I thought... I wasn't giving up so easily - no, not me!

So I approached Yegor once again and gave him a demo mini disc with two song: "Quand On N'A Que l"Amour" and "My Heart Will Go On" (oh come on, it was a HUGE hit at the time and I was only 14!!!) - he smirked and probably considered throwing it into the bin the moment I turned away, but as a result he hesitated...thankfully!

The next morning, I got a quick email from an unknown sender: "Tina, I heard your disc, call me asap. Yegor"

(I forgot to include my phone number!)

I will never forget that feeling of utter excitement, pride and anxiousness I experienced while I dialed the number... It was one of those moments when you know it's the start of something new, something you've been waiting for as long as you can remember yourself!

The rest is history... Yegor became my first manager, a dear friend and someone I still love to bits and have a great deal of respect for. He not only helped me to launch my career from the very early days but also inspired my journalistic endeavors in press and radio. A childish infatuation became a lifelong friendship and the beginning of my musical journey. I got an email from Yegor this afternoon, in fact, and he wrote "I am so proud of you"... I knew he meant it from the heart.

One of the most important encounters in my life? Definitely! In fact, thanks to my 2-week long concussion that left me stranded in bed next to my dad's FM radio, I was not only exposed to a great program and its host who became a very key figure in the very beginning of my career, but also got totally hooked on the medium itself - my current part-time radio job!

I have no idea how we got from the first paragraph of this piece to this very last one, but this is certainly one of those stories that I keep getting back to time and time again whenever I try to determine the starting point of a journey that has now become my life - not just a musical adventure but a path I have chosen to walk through thick and thin. The final destination will be truly blissful, I am sure, but the process - the journey itself is such a great adventure in itself, you can't replace that - no way!