Blue october how to dance in time

Blue October singer comes to peace with his depression on reflective album


New album "This is What I Live For" chronicles singer Justin Furstenfeld's coming to peace with depression and anxiety. The album also features his 13-year-old daughter.

Justin Furstenfeld has always been candid about his struggles with drugs, alcohol and mental illness. The band’s biggest hits, “Hate Me” and “Into the Ocean,” are harrowing chronicles of addiction and trauma.

But the Blue October frontman and Houston native cringes when he listens to some of his past music.

“There are some songs that I’m like, ‘You were so looking for attention,’” Furstenfeld says. “If you listen to my old albums, oh my God, talk about victimhood. ‘Poor Justin. Poor guy with his depression and all his sadness.’ Like, seriously, dude?

“Now is the first time in my life where I’m at such peace with who I am, and I love who I am and I adore who I am because it’s been so many different things. And I’m proud of who I am.”

Furstenfeld is still writing about many of the same things on “This is What I Live For,” Blue October’s evocative 10th album, released this month. But his approach is completely different. He personifies his depression, singing as if it’s a living, breathing entity.

It’s a clever and creative device. And it diffuses the power of what was one an abstract, all-powerful shadow in his life.

“It’s a little dark, huh?” Furstenfeld says with a laugh. “It was nice to be able to explain and color with verbalization and imagery and sound and mood how I was feeling. And now I choose not to let it run my life. I just choose to see it as another piece of me that allows me to make art more colorful and balance the beauty around me.”

Alongside the standard “This is What I Live For” album, a second version features Furstenfeld talking about the inspiration behind every song. He talks about “falling in love” with depression and asking it out to dinner. It’s alternately funny, sad and reflective. It’s a companion of sorts to the documentary “Get Back Up,” released in May, that captures Furstenfeld’s evolving approach to mental illness and addiction.

The album and commentary could be a useful tool for people who don’t know how to effectively talk about depression and potentially help others learn how to, with the proper tools, turn it into something manageable.

“I can sit back and go, ‘That part of you is still there. Why don’t you make peace with it? Why don’t you just try to describe how it makes you feel comfortable? How it makes you feel in love. How it makes you feel nostalgic. How it makes you feel romantic. How it makes you feel sad,’” Furstenfeld says. He credits HSPVA with teaching him to channel his pain into art.

“Maybe somebody out there listening will think, ‘Oh my God, I totally get that.’”

The album was produced by Furstenfeld at his own Up/Down Studios in San Marcos, where he lives with his wife and three children. The song “I Will Follow You” was recorded at Peter Gabriel’s Real World Studios in England.

Furstenfeld says “This is What I Live For” is an attempt to create his own version of The Cure’s “Disintegration,” the 1989 album that featured somber hits “Lovesong” and “Pictures of You.”

“I remember the first time I heard it. When it rolls in and it goes,” Furstenfeld imitates the synthy, symphonic crash of “Disintegration” album opener “Plainsong.”

Look at this. Look at those chills, just talking about it,” he says as he lifts his arm. “That’s what I wanted this album to feel like, sonically and vibe-wise. Real rock ’n’ roll but dreamy and romantic and sad.”

“This is What I Live For” is indeed a vibe all its own. It’s moody and atmospheric, with light electronic flourishes, and it evokes images of a lone person walking in a heavy coat, collar upturned, on a cold, wintry day.

Furstenfeld sings with daughter Blue Reed, 13, on “Fight for Love” and pays tribute to his dad on “Stay With Me. ” The latter was originally a love song but rewritten after Furstenfeld’s father was diagnosed with Stage 4 multiple myeloma. It’s one of the album’s most effective songs and unfurls like a prayer: “In the words of my father/Yes I’m good enough/Yes I’m good enough.”

Furstenfeld understands the darkness will always be there. But he has learned that’s it’s simply another part of what makes him whole.

“I already did the whole ego thing. I’ve already done the whole, ‘Woe is me’ thing,” he says. “Now it’s tapping into the magic of what is beautiful and amazing about life. And that is everything. Keep it humble. Keep it the right size.”


Step by step

Livestreams and social media savvy have become more important than ever as COVID-19 continues. Blue October’s Justin Furstenfeld could teach (virtual) classes on it.

The band started its own streaming platform, Get Back Up TV, where it premiered the documentary of the same name and offers virtual concerts and weekly performances.

Furstenfeld has gone further, hosting weekly recovery meetings for several thousand fans dealing with some of the same problems he has faced.

“The 12th step is to spread the message, that there is hope, that you don’t have to drink or use again,” Furstenfeld says. “That’s my job.”

He’s also been writing lots of new songs and, quite simply, learning how to live.

“I’m learning how to be a family man. I’ve always been on the road. I see how much my wife does, and I’m just blown away. I don’t wanna get in her way. I just wanna help,” he says. “I went and bought my first weed eater at 44. After seven months, I’m damn good at it. If I ever lost my job with Blue October, I could mow lawns for a living.”

— JG

Your weekly guide to Houston arts & entertainment.

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Lone Star State rockers Blue October emerged during the mid-'90s, delivering an emotionally charged amalgam of heart-heavy post-grunge and slick modern rock. The band’s discography reflects the arc brought on by age. Over the course of nearly two decades and seven studio albums, frontman Justin Furstenfeld has channeled his own emotional battles and life lessons into anthemic hit songs like “Hate Me” and “Into The Ocean." They built on that success via a string of albums that saw them go from radio-ready, post-grunge act (2011's Any Man inAmerica) to stadium-sized synth rockers with an unabashed flair for the melodramatic (2016's Home). The Texas outfit, which earned the honor of opening for the Rolling Stones in the height of their 2006 platinum-selling “Foiled” push, have since managed everything from sold-out theater concerts to an intimate acoustic tour. Alt-rock fans are devoted to the group's smart combination of indie rock and orchestral melancholy.

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Oct. Shadow dance.

Cold days came in October. The gloomy rains reminded me that behind them was the season of slush and bone-chilling cold. The smell of rain haunted Uzawa Yoko and awakened in her a longing for everything warm, soft, alive, of which now only a vague memory remained.

— It's already pouring!…

Youko stopped and opened her umbrella. Beneath the pale blue orb, her vision blurred, and she smiled like a Vestal.

-- You remember, dear. Let me guess. The rain smells like those puppies.

Only on a frost-shrouded night, from the depths of memory, did they emerge in front of the window of a dog shop. Kijima Katsuo, in a black school uniform that would fit a monk, pressed his forehead against the glass, watching the puppies fiddling around. There was a smell of dog, and no matter how bored Yoko looked with pleading eyes at Katsuo, only the reflection of the lamps illuminated his face, and he was not going to leave. In the basket behind the glass display case, the fuss did not stop for a minute: the puppies clung to each other in an attempt to fall asleep, but those who were below immediately climbed up.

From inside the store, as if from a flower shop, a bright, dazzling light poured into the street. Passers-by slowed down one by one in the middle of the fog, but soon moved away and disappeared into the mist. Lined up in a row of pale orange street lamps, surrounded by a halo, they seemed to herald a solemn and unprecedented nighttime ceremony.

-- Do you want a warm puppy?

Youko chewed on that clearing memory like it was something precious.

-- Just stretch out your hand, you will immediately find out what a soft, fluffy lump it is, how fast its heart is beating. I see that you only think about it, you just want to feel the warm puppy. I can't stand these puppies who sleep on the described bedding! You want to give it to me, of course, but just put it in my hands, I'll tell you right away, I don't need them, your stupid little dogs! Not needed at all…

Youko wanted to make sure that the barely perceptible sensation in the depths of her soul, which could not be named, was not at all alarming. No, the difference in age, more than twelve years, did not bother her. She understood that Katsuo was not interested in young girls, and although her work at Foulards Nouveau polishing gauze and satin silk was not limited to magazines and television, in numerous courses on home economics, Yoko was surrounded by married women with an excess of free time, so there could be no doubt about it. And even the monthly income (it was enough to build an elegant house at the foot of the mountain in summer), which evaporated in the hands of Katsuo (you can’t say otherwise!), Compensated for this - from whatever angle Yoko looked at those moments when she gave money, and Katsuo gave them took, everything went naturally, as if between a sister and a brother.

- He is a boy, however, he is still a child.

Tak Youko, giving up on trying to distract Katsuo from the puppies, calmed herself down. She tried to smile, but a slight, itchy, like a flock of flies, anxiety did not disappear and, in an attempt to dispel it, soared into the sky. It became clear to her what the matter was.

An extremely strange discovery was to blame: Katsuo was not looking at the puppies, his attention was drawn to something else. He literally devoured the space of a small store with his eyes. However, nothing but a few bare light bulbs and a young, bored man behind the counter - obviously a salesman - did not attract the eye. Where is he looking like that? Youko tried to follow his gaze, but there could be no mistake - Katsuo stared into empty space.

Youko shuddered at the eerie revelation. There was nothing there. Maybe she couldn't notice it because he didn't want her to notice? Another doubt arose in Youko's soul. She remembered a similar incident.

A month before, on a cloudy day, they were walking along a wide, quiet street, when suddenly Katsuo looked around to see if anyone was nearby, and with a shy smile, stopped in front of the billiard room, which Youko had not noticed before. Behavior like that of a child who asks for a new toy meant that he wanted to look there.

-- Do you want to go there, dear? Youko asked quietly and stopped waiting for an answer, but Katsuo had already entered the billiard room.

Youko's billiards still seemed like an exquisite male pastime, and the small building looked like a chateau that appeared out of nowhere by magic, so she followed Katsuo. For some reason, it seemed to her that even if she had set out to find this institution, nothing would have come of it.

It was quiet inside. Three large wooden tables upholstered in dark green cloth, decorated with ancient ornaments, looked like huge monsters sleeping in a lair. At the very end, red shiny balls were scattered, and the young man, most likely the owner of the establishment, silently aimed his cue at them. When they entered, he turned lightly to them:

- Come in.

Then, as soon as the tea arrived, he turned to Katsuo, completely ignoring Youko:

-- How much?

Youko didn't remember what he said. Katsuo immediately took off his coat, chose one of the cues leaning against the wall, and began to play along with this stranger. Youko sat wearily on the leather chair in the corner, cross-legged.

The man looked completely unemotional, as if he wore a white mask, but he called glasses in a low, well-defined voice. When it was his turn, he aimed, naming numbers, and did not violate the bounds of politeness in this. The sound of colliding balls echoed in the dark room, and Katsuo, who could not be expected to love sports, having completely forgotten about the existence of Youko, leaned over the table, stroking the cue. With a beautifully curved left hand, he leaned on the cloth surface of the table, gracefully putting his little finger away.

Youko continued to sit, becoming more and more terrified. Two shadows in front of the eyes either stepped on each other, or moved, and only steps were heard around the table. Only white balls of ivory seemed alive, which described arcs on the cloth, striving for the red ball.

Something pricked Youko with small needles. No, it was pleasant to look at the players - she was waiting for them with a kind smile, like a nanny who watches over the children in the sandbox. She was tormented by the sight of her left little fingers and their excessive beauty.

The white fingers that alternately appeared on the surface of the table seemed to Youko as symbols of some kind of tacit agreement that she was not supposed to know about. Signs of a secret pact that only men can understand. Youko looked sadly at her fingers, which did not hold the secret code. She noticed that from time to time an ironic grin appeared on the man's motionless face, and a small wrinkle appeared on his nose. The smile that appeared on his face when Katsuo missed the opportunity to send the ball into the pocket was not so mocking, but rather understanding.

Fingers and a smile. Youko tensed in her chair. It looks like something like this has already happened. Not so long ago, somewhere in a similar place... A bitter memory immediately surfaced in my memory. Yes, the place was almost the same, only darker, this old-fashioned science museum. Despite the high ceilings, which provided coolness even in the heat, there were absolutely no people - just like in this billiard room. An old, slightly refined place - a different world, boring for the uninitiated. Silence reigned on the second and third floors, broken only by footsteps.

Glass showcases gleamed in the halls. Katsuo slowly examined the stuffed birds and animals covered in a thin layer of dust. No, this time he only pretended to look around. On the third floor, a man who had come from nowhere approached them. He appeared as if from the void, completely silently, as if he had stepped off the wall, and when he saw Katsuo, he greeted him in surprise. They began to discuss some trifles, as if they had not seen each other for a long time, and moved away from Yoko.

This imposing middle-aged man with a prominent black mole on the bridge of his nose and neatly combed gray hair called himself uncle, but Katsuo never mentioned him. Both acted as if they met by chance, but there was no doubt that the meeting was actually set up. Youko purposely pretended to be diligently examining stuffed birds with eyes made of brown glass beads, but in fact, the windows reflected how they both talked, approaching each other, and touching their ring fingers, which resembled some kind of thoughtful gesture.

Strange signs from the world of shadows. If it was a normal conversation, anyone could hear it, and even Yoko's presence wouldn't bother them. Why do they communicate like spies in secret correspondence or underground party members? Just thinking about it, Youko broke out in a cold sweat. Another ghostly memory, a clue, appeared in her head. Youko closed her eyes, she did not want to remember him. But it could answer these questions, and only it could explain all these gestures. Youko opened her eyes and, looking at Katsuo, who was still reflected in the window, suddenly felt hatred for him. This hatred, like a candle, burned in broad daylight. The invisible tongue of her flame burned only the very edge of Yoko's soul, but now it engulfed her entire being. And the completely forgotten memory suddenly appeared in its entirety.

That summer, Youko decided to share a bed with Katsuo for the first time in her new house at the foot of the mountain. She specially built it to spend the summer together, but expectations were deceived, and Yoko experienced only bitter humiliation. The young and perfectly healthy young man lying on the bed felt absolutely nothing for her.

Behind the closed windows, the volcano disappeared in the mist, and Katsuo, as if personifying it, lay next to Youko. She was waiting for the rumbles. She wanted to feel the hot smoke of the eruption. But no matter how much time passed, no noise was heard. Annoyed, Youko followed the scree to the brown top. The left hand hastily searched for the right, and she stroked all the stones that came across her path. Like a priestess of a volcano, Youko naively hoped that it would erupt and hot lava would flow. But soon she realized that in his young body, which seemed the limit of perfection, there was no fire, that it was lifeless, like cold ashes.

It can't be. Youko looked into his face, but it was the same. He looked back at her. There was a question in his eyes why she was doing this, but there was neither hatred nor criticism in this question. Impotent - but not a eunuch. A strange creature lay nearby, which initially had no idea what men and women were doing. It wasn't Katsuo. It was an unknown alien intelligence in Katsuo's body.


When it began to rain again outside and nothing could be seen around, Youko stopped.

Everything was moving backwards. First, trust, which she mistook for love. Then discontent, which bore a slight sign of doubt, then hatred grew out of fear. The result of this was to be “death”. Her memories suddenly reached a certain limit, beyond which only action remained. The hands of the clock seemed to spin in the opposite direction, but there were no contradictions in Yoko's soul. She had forgotten that she had settled the case with this alien three months earlier.

And yet, how do they penetrate the earth? They take on an exclusively male appearance, they exchange secret glances and finger movements, and all this so that someday the whole planet will turn into a shadow dance hall where there would not be a single woman ... Their codes, as she understood from the gestures in Museum, resemble Morse code, and, therefore, then, in front of the dog store, Katsuo did not look into empty space at all. He specifically talked to this bored salesman so that I couldn't see anything! Of course, they wanted to destroy me, a woman, as a hindrance that interferes with their existence.

What was in the billiard room then? At first, he gracefully placed his left hand on the table, as if in agreement, but, most likely, everything is not so simple. Why did this man in the billiard room smile from time to time, and a wrinkle appeared on his nose? Yoko introduced red and white balls on the cloth. He said "how many". Like, if white hits red, then this is two points, and if two reds collide - three, then we can assume that these are dots and dashes in Morse code, and if gestures are breaks between words, then what were they talking about?

Clear. They pretended to play in front of me, but in fact they were discussing how best to destroy me. His strange smile meant just that, and there was no more delay. They conspired, and they will soon capture me. They want to destroy all women and. ..

Youko realized that she had guessed right. Two black shadows, which, now approaching, then moving away, followed her, suddenly appeared nearby, grabbed her by the arms, and a rough voice came from somewhere:

-- Uzawa Yoko! You are under arrest on suspicion of killing Kijima Katsuo.

— Damn, what are we going to do with this bitch? Her roof has completely fallen off, boss.

The young investigator returned to the investigation room and began to tell an amazing story to the police inspector, who was sitting before a store-bought lunch.

-- A crazy aunt spent a lot of money on a boy who turned out to be a faggot and couldn't stand women. He only pulled money from her. Friends showed that she was furious and nailed him, but she didn’t want to admit why. He says that some aliens communicated with the help of balloons and passed secret messages to each other - the aunt in science fiction went crazy. The corpse rotted for three months, imagine how brave. A plumber came to shut off the water supply in the country house for the winter, but she didn’t care, and didn’t remember a damn thing. She repeats everything that a month ago they walked past the dog store, but that the guy turned out to be gay - she was directly frightened, poor thing.

He suddenly laughed and a wrinkle appeared on his nose.

-- I'm at the same time, I'm going. The victim and I seemed to be playing billiards together.

-- She told me the same thing. The inspector lifted his face from the plate.

-- As if she saw me in a museum. Hmm, however...

He gestured to touch a large mole on his nose and smiled.

-- It may very well be that we met somewhere...

Iskhakova-Vamba R.A. He managed to express in music the spirit of his time

Source: Scientific Tatarstan.-2000.- No. 4.- P. 40-43.

Salih Zamaletdinovich Saidashev was born on December 3, 1900 in Kazan in a family of urban artisans, in the recent past, immigrants from middle-class peasants of the Vysokogorsky district of Tatarstan. He graduated from a madrasah and an elementary Russian-Tatar school, in 1914-1917 he studied at the Kazan Music College, piano class. The atmosphere of the family of his relative Sh. Akhmerov, where he was brought up as an orphan, had a beneficial effect on the formation of the composer's personality. Sh. Akhmerov, a book publisher and teacher by the nature of his activity, communicated with prominent figures of Tatar culture - F.A. Amirkhan, G. Ibragimov, G. Kariev and others.

The acquaintance and communication with the great G.Tukay in the last year of his life left an indelible impression on the teenager Salikha. The years of the revolution form S. Saidashev primarily as an organizer of musical affairs in Buinsk, Orenburg, where he ended up as a volunteer in the First Army of the Turkestan Front in 1919. In the army, Saidashev performed various duties as a musician - from a cornetist and bandmaster to the head of the musical part of a drama troupe and an accompanist. Demobilized due to illness, Saidashev at 19At the age of 21, he became the head of the Eastern Music School in Orenburg, where he created his first compositions, continuing to deepen his musical education. Since 1922, S. Saidashev, at the invitation of the People's Commissariat of Education of the TASSR, became the head of the musical part and conductor of the orchestra of the Tatar Drama Theater "Red October" in Kazan. they are dramas and comedies by K. Tinchurin ("Kazan towel", "Faded stars", "Blue shawl", "On the river Kandr" '), poet F. Burnasha ("Old man Kamali", "Tagir and Zuhra", " Young Hearts", "Husain Mirza"), M. Faizi ("Along the banks of the Ural River", "Taliabanu", "Beloved"), T. Gizzata ("Monista.", "Hirer"), A. Kutuya (" Sister-in-law", "Nyankedzhan", "Girls in kalfaks", "Grey Dove"), G. Minsky ("Helmet") and others. Saidashev, in collaboration with playwrights K. Tinchurin, T. Gizzat and other authors, was the creator of a new genre music - musical drama, the first of which was K. Tinchurin's melodrama "Blue Shawl" (1926). Saidashev managed to connect Tatar folk melodies with the forms of European music, creating developed vocal arias, songs and choirs, as well as instrumental music in the form of overtures to performances ("Galiabanu", "Faded Stars") and symphonic suites from dances ("Oriental Ballet" from drama "Tagir and Zuhra"). A rich melodic gift and the gift of an improviser earned Saidashev great popularity. Since 1934, together with a group of Tatar musicians, he studied at the Tatar Opera Studio of the Moscow Conservatory. Upon return at 1938 in Kazan continues his creative activity and creates music for dramatic performances by T. Gizzat ("Bishbulak". "Holy Commission", "Dawn"). Kh.Fathullina ("Eyes"), G.Nasretdinova ("Dear Moments"), G.Kamala ("Dear Hafiza" together with composer M.Yudin) and others, is working on the second edition of the drama "Hirer".

The last decade and a half of the composer's life were overshadowed by the illegal repressions of a number of his friends, including K. Tinchurin. The abolition in 1948 of the musical part and the orchestra in the theater also did not contribute to the composer's work. One of the last compositions of Saidashev was the ballet "Gulnara", created on oriental motifs. S. Saidashev's work "My Songs" to the words of M. Jalil from "Moabit Notebooks" became a swan song, where the composer echoes the poet in that his life was completely given to the people.

S. Saidashev in his creative work has done a job adequate to the work of many generations of composers, if compared with other cultures. He can rightfully be called the founder of Tatar professional music.


As already noted, S. Saidashev's creative takeoff was most clearly manifested during his work at the Tatar Drama Theater. This theater, which grew up on the plays of G. Kamal, M. Gorky and other authors, was full of interesting ideas and plans. Experiencing repertory hunger, its leaders often became playwrights, directors, actors, and theater critics themselves. S. Saidashev also carried out the activities of a composer, conductor, and head of the musical part of the theater in one person. The combination of many duties in one person was caused by the time of formation of the still relatively young musical theater. The theater, being a herald of new ideas, becomes the center of the cultural life of Kazan and the republic.

The search for new plots and images also affected the composer Saidashev. Cooperation with K. Tinchurin and his follower T. Gizzat turned out to be very fruitful for him. Therefore, we will focus on Saidashev's theatrical music, written for the plays of these authors. These are "Blue Shawl", "On the Kandr River" by K. Tinchurin and "Hirer" by TTizzat.

It should be noted that these productions with Saidashev's music were not accidental. The works of K. Tinchurin, as you know, distinguished the artistry of fiction and images given through the prism of satire and humor. All this was expressed in colorful language, rich folk proverbs and sayings. Moreover, the plot itself, for example, the melodrama "Blue Shawl", absorbed the Tatar folk customs, traditions and elements of folk art: bytes, historical songs about the fugitives, Sabantuy, wedding ceremonies, that is, it was "ethnographic", as it was then accepted to say. So, against the background of Tatar reality, such types as Ishan, fugitives, the worker Bulat, a former peasant, arose. The artistry of the play could not but determine its artistic musical design. It is known that, starting from this melodrama, Saidashev moved in the theater, simultaneously with the use of folk melodies, to compose his own original music.

It should be noted that different social types, bred in the drama, led Saidashev to use different layers of Tatar song creativity for their depiction: lyrical songs for the images of Bulat and Maysara (for example, the song "Blue Shawl", which becomes, as it were, a leitmotif, according to opera terminology), folk songs "kavalarda yoldyz" ("Stars in the sky"), "Salkyn chishme" ("Cold Spring"), "Mine", "Sabantuy", that is, a panorama of folk life in music is given. She is opposed by the wretched world of the representatives of the clergy - Ishan and his family, accompanied by the dull book chant "Muhammadiya". Describing the main characters of the drama - Bulat and Maysara, the composer for the first time resorts to original music. At the same time, the suffering Maysara is in the center of his attention.

Presented through lamentations while preparing her for an unwanted wedding ("Song of Maysara"), and excited from the meeting with his native aul and beloved miner Bulat (song "My Friends"). A colorful picture in the forest, which ends with all the differences in the views and habits of the fugitives with their unity in one thing - hatred of those in power, the desire to rise above the law. In melodrama, therefore, we see the skillful distribution of musical material (both folk and original) in revealing the panorama of folk life and showing its types. The interweaving of material of different styles in one play is very organic, since Saidashev's original music is also intonationally close to folk music.

Evaluating the melodrama "The Blue Shawl", one cannot speak about it unambiguously. This is both the composer's first successful creation of his original music, and some generalization of previous creative experience in characterizing people of a clergy, coming from K. Tinchurin's play "'Faded Stars", and an anticipation of his future works, which manifested itself in plays of a generalizing nature: the choir of the fugitive in "Blue Shawl" is adequate in its code value to the fitter's song "Fires that we lit" in K. Tinchurin's play "On the Kandr River".

Thus, when creating music for the play "The Blue Shawl", Saidashev formed the main creative principles. The melodrama "Blue Shawl" was to some extent both the final and the harbinger of his future musical dramas, which gives the right to call it a milestone. It is also known that from the melodrama "The Blue Shawl" by Tinchurin-Saidashev, a new genre in professional Tatar music is born - a musical drama that opens the doors to the opera.

In the musical accompaniment of the following plays - "The hireling" by T.Gizzat and "On the river Kandr" by K.Tinchurin, Saidashev already fully uses the original music, in the process of creating which he develops an artistic credo that he fully realized. It was expressed by the composer in an interview with the Krasnaya Tatariya newspaper at 1940 in connection with the reworking of the musical drama "The Hireress" into an opera: "I want to create such a musical work," he says, "in which the best traditions of Russian and Western European classical opera creativity would be combined with the originality of the Tatar musical language . .. At the same time I would like to emphasize not only the typical features of each character, but also the class essence with the peculiarities of the construction of a musical phrase. The composer considers the preservation of the national originality and coloring of the opera to be paramount, then he pays attention to the creation in the opera of types conditioned by their "class essence".

The first postulate about the national originality of music was, apparently, not only the result of the composer's experience in using folk songs in the right situation in his early arrangements of plays, such as Kh. Faded Stars", etc., but also by his artistic conviction, because, according to B. Asafiev, "folk music is a majestic, deep, creatively inexhaustible source of knowledge of the national character." This conviction was developed in his teenage years in the process of personal contacts with prominent representatives of the Tatar intelligentsia, among whom a special role belonged to G. Tukay. The authority and charm of Tukay, who selflessly loved Tatar folk songs, the loving attitude towards them and the first music teacher of the teenager Salih Zagidulla Yarullin, and the inescapable beauty of these songs themselves left an indelible mark on the soul of the future composer for life. Therefore, despite the sharp criticism of his creative activity during the period of Rapm's attitudes, in particular from the composer L. Hamidi, by Saidashev's own admission, due to the conviction that his principles were correct, it was difficult to lead him to another path. He remained true to his credo, showing, as the future showed, a special perspicacity in the issue of the national form, which had a long history in the Tatar culture. In essence, Saidashev brought to life the artistic principles of G. Tukay through music, which was also noticed by Saidashev's contemporaries. Let's remember A.Kutuy's winged words: "Saidashev is Tukay in music".

As for the second postulate about types and their class essence, Saidashev is here. being in the atmosphere of theatrical 5} linen with the search for the typical in the images, went in the same vein. The representation of types by musical means was associated with the selection of adequate folk material in early plays and dramas. The creation of an image in Saidashev's music was associated both with the disclosure of its psychological state (Damask steel from the 1st act of "The Blue Shawl", Farida from the play "On the Kandr River"), and with a generalized description of the typical features of the image (Batyrzhan from "The Hireress", Gulyandam from the play "On the Kandr River"), with the expression of the leading ideas of our time through their typical intonations ("The Fires That We Kindled" from the play "On the Kandr River"). Regarding the "class essence" of the image, we can say that it was a tribute to socialist realism, gradually entering the artistic life of the 30s and then flourishing so magnificently in the conditions of Soviet reality.

Thus, we see that Saidashev in his work always adhered to the criterion of nationality.

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