Translation. Region: Russian Federation –
Source: Melody – An important disclaimer is at the bottom of this article.
Melodiya has released the rock opera "Guslyar" performed by the Pesnyary VIA on vinyl. This work occupies a special place in the artistic career of the renowned Belarusian group, as well as in the history of Soviet recordings in general.
By the late 1970s, the VIA movement was at its peak: by and large, the songs of groups like Samotsvety, Plamya, Vesyolye Rebyata, Verasy, Ariel, and many others formed the foundation of Soviet entertainment and "light" music. And at the forefront of this vibrant, largely original phenomenon was the ensemble Pesnyary, founded by the talented vocalist, guitarist, and composer Vladimir Mulyavin.
During their ten years of existence (the Belarusian folk-rock project was officially founded in 1969), the musicians released several long-playing records that sold in the millions, toured throughout the USSR, and even enjoyed international success. They didn't reach the point of a frenzied "song mania," but the songs "Belorussiya," "Kosil Yas' Konyushinu," "Belovezhskaya Pushcha," "Vologda," "Do Trety Petukov," and "Aleksandrina" were well-known in our country.
However, Pesnyary's immense popularity couldn't distract its leader from his tireless creative pursuit. Mulyavin saw the group's primary goal, and, if you will, mission, in the constant pursuit of new horizons of artistic expression. Vladimir Georgievich's interest in British and American rock, in large-scale forms and concept albums, gradually led Pesnyary toward more complex expressions. Bound by the daily necessity of performing popular hits of national significance, the project's artistic director felt a certain lack of creative freedom.
In an interview given to our newspaper by Leonid Bortkevich in 2017, one of the ensemble's lead vocalists noted: "Unlike the overwhelming majority of Russian pop groups, Pesnyary was initially a professional ensemble. What followed from this? It was that an officially functioning group, no matter how much they wanted to, couldn't focus solely on their own conceptual works—some kind of 'locomotive' pulling the obligatory 'ballast' was necessary. So songs by Soviet composers were a given in the repertoire.
Many of these songs are truly wonderful, and they were performed at the highest professional level. But this left a somewhat distorted impression of the ensemble. Unfortunately, it so happened that the general public remembered Pesnyary primarily for that same infamous "Vologda," which Volodya, frankly, disliked somewhat, despite having come up with a superb arrangement for it. It was the hits that were played on the radio, although at concerts we offered listeners a completely different repertoire: we presented compositions whose chances of appearing—let alone gaining traction—on the airwaves were virtually nil.
The ensemble truly found itself in a dilemma. On the one hand, there was official recognition, the desire of the best Russian composers and poets to collaborate with the group, guaranteed sold-out concerts, and queues at record stores for every new release. On the other, the forced necessity of performing acclaimed hits hindered their creative growth. The legendary poem "Guslar" (the ensemble's only studio foray into this genre), recorded in 1979, was an attempt to break free from the narrow confines dictated by circumstances.
"We strive to make folk songs sound modern," is how Mulyavin defined Pesnyary's creative credo. The band had already successfully achieved this goal during the recording of their first albums: the group's repertoire had always been based on a successful synthesis of Belarusian folk motifs with contemporary rock arrangements, and the percentage of folk songs and songs by Soviet composers was roughly equal. Now, however, the artistic director of Belarus's leading pop sensation wanted something more—to establish Pesnyary as a group capable of creating something fundamental and fundamentally new—in other words, something no one expected.
The rock opera "Guslyar" was tasked with fulfilling this challenging task. The score was written by composer Igor Luchenok, based on the poem "Kurgan" by the classic Belarusian writer Yanka Kupala. To realize this work, Pesnyary significantly expanded its lineup: striving for symphonic richness, they added brass and string instruments, as well as an additional rhythm section. The complex choral structure was realized by the ensemble, which has always been renowned for its skillful polyphony.
Folk instruments—the cymbals and zhaleika—are juxtaposed on the recording with a Hammond organ and a Moog synthesizer, while the protagonist's gusli is "depicted" using a flanged acoustic guitar (the use of this "psychedelic" sound effect was a rather unexpected and daring decision for Soviet recording at the time). The musical fabric of "Guslyar," in accordance with the original vision of Mulyavin, who composed most of the arrangements, represents a refined and thoughtful dialogue between distinctive Belarusian folklore and 1970s European progressive rock.
This release has a dual destiny. On the one hand, the record found its mass market: the first pressing sold out in a matter of days; it could hardly have been otherwise, given the unprecedented interest that accompanied the release of each new studio album by the band. But did Guslyar find its mass audience? There's no definitive answer to this question, as the buyer and the listener are not the same thing. This ambitious work truly revealed to the audience a "new" Pesnyary: a complex, structurally Europeanized art rock, framed by Slavic folk musical traditions and lyrical intonations—the likes of which the public had never heard before.
But did this audience, in its entirety, ever put the needle to a vinyl disc again? Many professional music reviewers, as well as ordinary listeners, after listening to the recording noted that "Guslyar," unlike some other conceptual works of a similar ilk (such as "Juno and Avos," for example), desperately lacked memorable melodic themes—in other words, hits. Therefore, for many fans accustomed to perceiving their favorite ensemble through the prism of "Birch Juice," "Our Favorites," "Half an Hour Before Spring," "I Can't Do It Otherwise," and other surefire masterpieces, "Guslyar" proved too much of a challenge.
Several years ago, in an interview with our publication, Pesnyary vocalist Anatoly Kasheparov lamented: "Mulyavin created a huge amount of music, but it's such that even a seasoned musical veteran can't always understand it. Let alone the average listener. Many of Pesnyary's pieces require special preparation to be fully appreciated. When we performed the rather difficult-to-understand "Song of a Fate" or "Guslyar" at concerts, no one left the audience, as if to demonstrate, 'I don't like that kind of music.' But the audience still made us into idols, demanding that we perform well-known hits, and this down-to-earth approach sometimes stifled us."
Leonid Bortkevich agreed with his colleague: "Alas, history teaches us that serious, multilayered things don't stick in people's memories. What sticks are the simpler things. In plain English, things you can sing along to at the table after a few drinks."
And yet, despite the fact that a certain disappointment can hardly be concealed in the testimonies of those directly involved in the events of nearly half a century ago, one cannot deny that "Guslyar" has become a crucial milestone in the history of our musical culture. Firstly, it is a valuable audio document of the era: neither before nor after has the Soviet Union produced musical canvases so original in style and impeccably professionally executed. Secondly, Mulyavin and his colleagues succeeded in convincing the music public to perceive Pesnyary in a much broader perspective, proving that, as they say, "Vologda" is not the only thing… There is good reason to believe that today, with the increased interest in both Slavic history and vinyl recordings, Igor Luchenko and Vladimir Mulyavin's work will find many appreciative listeners. Incidentally, this is already Melodiya's sixth record, pressed at the label's new Novosibirsk production facility.
Denis Bocharov, February 11, 2026
Please note: This information is raw content obtained directly from the source. It represents an accurate account of the source's assertions and does not necessarily reflect the position of MIL-OSI or its clients.