Today would have been the famed Soviet bard, actor, and conscious of a generation Vladimir Vysotsky’s 70th birthday. Vysotsky, who died in 1980 at the age of 42 from heart failure, perhaps proves once again that “its better to burn out, than to fade away.” True enough. Vysotsky’s great cultural impact in life and sudden death is the stuff icons are made of. Brilliant and moving, his passionate raspy voice made him a man fit for his time. It was also a time fit for the man.
Vysotsky’s 70th birthday is not going unnoticed in Russia. Monuments to the legendary actor, poet, and vocalist are being unveiled today in Samara, Voronezh and Dubna. The one in Samara is a 5 meter tall piece sculpted by Vysotsky’s close friend and well known artist Mikhail Shemyakin.
My love of Vysotsky’s music is only a few years old. My most memorable moment was last year in Israel. I was shopping at this flea market in Jaffa and stumbled upon a Russian immigrant selling records. Among his collection was a seven vinyl series of Vysotsky’s music called Na kontsertakh Vladimira Vysotskovo. He sold them to me for a dollar a record. The wax is in perfect condition. The sleeves are a bit worn, some have a few stains of god knows what, but not too bad. The records were published between 1987-1988 by Melodiia, the official Soviet record press, and are based on recordings Vysotsky did in the 1960s and 1970s. I figured that today is a good day to bust them out of my crate of records, blow the dust off of them, and give ’em a spin.
