VOLODYMYR IVASIUK: The Red Rue in Blue and Yellow Colors
Volodymyr Ivasiuk / news.obozrevatel.com
Volodymyr Ivasiuk (1949–1979) was a Ukrainian composer who, with a single song, made the entire former USSR understand the Ukrainian language. He was a doctor, poet, singer, and artist (creating beautiful watercolors, caricatures, and portraits). He composed music for Nazariy Yaremchuk, Sofia Rotaru, and Vasyl Zinkevych.
In his 30 years of life, he created 53 instrumental works (his suite The Withered Willow was compared to Alfred Schnittke’s works), music for several plays, and 107 songs. Not even two of his compositions were alike.
His popularity surpassed that of the leaders, something that was never forgiven. Moscow persistently tried to co-opt the genius, as Leonid Utyosov claimed: «You can live anywhere, but you should work in Moscow». Volodya responded firmly: «I am a Ukrainian composer».
TO THE NEXT WORLD IN A MYRTLE WREATH
People flowed in a continuous stream. Taxi drivers, upon learning that passengers were attending Volodymyr Ivasiuk’s funeral, refused to charge for the ride. Flower vendors stood with empty buckets — every iris and peony was sold out.
The oak coffin, adorned with viburnum branches and flowers, was not to be opened, but a sorrowful whisper spread through the crowd: «He was killed». Rumors said that the deceased, standing 172 cm tall, was found half-hanging and half-sitting. It was claimed that at least three helpers would be needed for someone to hang themselves in such a position. His nose was flattened like a boxer’s, his abdomen was bruised, and his body was covered in some kind of fibers. His face was a mass of wounds where his eyes should have been, likely gouged out. Both hands had broken fingers, which made his father mourn: «My fingers, my fingers…»
The time and place of the burial were not announced — word spread only through the grapevine. Universities scheduled Komsomol meetings that day, fearing that the farewell might turn into a protest. The coffin was meant to be transported by car, but the crowd protested: «Carry him! Carry him!»
At the front was a student dressed in a black Borshchiv woolen shirt, skirt, and belt. She carried a portrait of the deceased in a Myrtle wreath (crosses were forbidden at the time). Behind her were Nazariy Yaremchuk and Levko Dutkovsky, who had a white bouquet, symbolizing Ivasiuk’s bachelorhood. Yuriy Rybchynsky canceled his birthday celebration. The Marenych Trio sent a wreath with heart-wrenching words:
«Thank you, friend, for your passionate love
For the native Ukrainian land.
Forever your Red Rue
Will be sung by nightingales!»
Near the grave, conservatory students sang the requiem Do You Hear, My Brother. As the coffin was lowered, the crowd (over 50,000 strong) sang Red Rue.
Persecution of the deceased songwriter began immediately. Volodymyr was accused of mental illness, drunkenness, and sloppiness. His songs were banned from radio and television. His family was shunned. The grave was set on fire three times. Notes left by the people burned along with the flowers. The monument waited in the workshop for over ten years as authorities refused to permit its installation.
LYAPIS, LENIN, AND THE LEGMAZH PLANT
It all started with «blindness». No sooner was Volodya born than, on the second day, an inattentive nurse burned his eyes. Instead of a 2% lyapis solution, she grabbed 20%. His father rushed to Chernivtsi for a professor while a blizzard raged outside. Snowdrifts were waist-deep, and only horse-drawn sleighs could pass. Fortunately, the baby was lucky — the solution burned only his eyelids, leaving two black streaks on his cheeks. It turned out that the child hadn’t even begun life before he cried black tears.
He was soon brought home from the maternity ward and placed on the stove. They carefully unwrapped him as if he were made of fragile glass. He was named Volodymyr after his father’s favorite poets — Sosiura and Samiylenko. Two months later, a nanny named Magdalena joined the family. She had no passport or home and found refuge with them. She stayed with the family for 45 years, even though they all lived in a single dormitory room. The child called his nanny Mimi, later Milya.
The child was often ill, with sudden fevers reaching 40 degrees Celsius. At five and a half, he entered music school (his father sat next to him in solfeggio class, drawing quarter and half notes, as the boy couldn’t write yet).
In his teenage years, he enrolled in the Lysenko School, but after six months, he was withdrawn. He returned from vacation with a bruised neck (from practicing the violin for eight to nine hours), and his grandmother wailed, «I won’t leave home until the boy returns».
In his final school year, a month before exams, Volodya ran into trouble. On that April day, the boys roamed the streets, saw a bust of Lenin, and decided to put a cap on the leader. They took turns throwing it, trying to be accurate, but the old bust toppled — and shattered.
The hooligans were detained for 15 days. Volodya was on track to receive a gold medal, but due to this «shameful» incident, he was denied it, receiving a «B» for behavior instead. Then came his application to Chernivtsi Medical Institute. He boasted to friends in his hometown of Kitsman about it, and someone whispered to the rector about the incident.
The «authority» decided to punish the hooligan publicly. On September 1, at the student induction, it was announced that alongside honest applicants — sons of collective farmers and Soviet intelligentsia — a near-criminal named Volodymyr Ivasiuk had unlawfully entered the institute. His entrance exams were annulled.
Thus, the young man found himself at the Legmash factory, but he hadn’t considered the unbearable noise of the workshop. It was too much for his absolute pitch, causing headaches and dizziness. He was transferred to another department, where he organized a choir and began singing Laskavo prosymo, Batkivshchyna moia, and Kapeliukh.
He won a regional competition. Under the pseudonym Vesnianyi, he submitted Vidlitaiut zhuravli and Kolyiskova dlia Oksanochky and won first prize. His music turned out to be truly innovative — something both unattainable and incomprehensible.
WHERE RED RUE GROWS
A year later, Volodya re-enrolled in the medical faculty, organized a chamber orchestra, an instrumental trio, and a vocal-instrumental ensemble — and fell in love. The girl’s name was Maria, but he called her Musia. When he learned she played the violin, he invited her to join the group. From then on, they were always together — attending lectures, practical classes, and rehearsals.
When they met, he would gently kiss her cheek and treat her to pies baked by his nanny, Magdalyna. He dedicated Red Rue to his beloved and later Elegy to Maria. Yet, for some reason, their relationship did not work out. Musia married a teacher and had a son whom she named Volodya, while the composer reached the peak of his fame.
He had long dreamed of the mysterious flower. Since reading old Kolomyikas about the red rue, believed to bring pure and eternal love, he had been searching for the plant — or the proper rhymes. He wrote, rewrote, and simplified the lyrics. He knew that rue actually blooms yellow, but it mutates once every ten years. That September day in 1970 would remain in his memory forever.
On Chernivtsi Square, together with Olena (Lialia) Kuznetsova, he performed his creation for the first time. Traffic came to a standstill in the square and neighboring streets. People listened, holding their breath. At home, the singer was greeted with applause. His mother, nanny, and sisters applauded on the doorstep, and the next day, the entire country was singing the song…
Envy followed. Established artists couldn’t believe it. How could a 20-year-old medical student write a hit that took over the airwaves? His song was heard everywhere — from the Urals to Georgia — and Smerichka gained the popularity of a genuine British rock band, like The Beatles. Critics started scrutinizing the song’s rhythm, faulting the stress in the word chervona and dismissing it as «soap bubbles on a Christmas tree».
Over time, he wrote equally touching melodies, such as I Will Go to the Distant Mountains (inspired by his ascent of Hoverla) and Ballad of Two Violins. He became a laureate at the Song of the Year ’71 and Song of the Year ’72 festivals. He continued to study medicine, somehow balancing septachords with resistance mechanisms and the fundamentals of composition with pathogenesis.
He worked fanatically, constantly reforming music. He mixed modern harmony with folk motifs. Every morning, before donning a white coat, he spent at least half an hour at the piano.
Once, his classmates were in the dean’s office discussing who should receive a scholarship and who should not. When Ivasiuk’s name came up — he had a «C» in pathophysiology — the rector Yukhymets (the one who had publicly humiliated him) entered and, upon hearing the discussion, asked, «Have I done anything to bring glory to Ukraine? No! Have you done anything to bring glory to Ukraine? No. But he wrote Red Rue».
THE SONG WILL BE BETWEEN US
That same autumn, Volodymyr met Halyna Tarasiuk, a journalist from the Molody Bukovynets newspaper. She was assigned to write an article about the composer, but instead of an interview, they ended up writing a love story. Halyna had just moved to the city, and Volodymyr invited her for a walk. He noted that their surnames rhymed well, and he thought to himself that she was cheerful, beautiful, and sharp-tongued. This sparked the idea for Pisnya bude pomizh nas (The Song Will Be Between Us).
Once again, love didn’t work out. Volodymyr moved to Lviv and wrote Svit bez tebe, Balada pro malvy, and U doli svoia vesna.
Halyna lost her father, her mother fell terminally ill, and she had younger siblings to care for. From time to time, the two would meet, but these were fleeting moments. The last time they saw each other was a few months before his death. It was cold outside, and the ground was icy.
Halyna walked cautiously down the street, afraid of slipping, as she was expecting a child. She spotted Volodymyr but pretended not to recognize him. Feeling tired and heavy, she hurried to cross to the other side. After walking a few meters, she couldn’t resist looking back. Her former lover stood there, watching her with sadness. Between them, a touching song seemed to play…
Don’t hide your eyes, blue beam,
Sing to me one last time.
I’ll take that song as a keepsake,
The song will be between us!
A WING BECOMES A WING ONLY DURING FLIGHT
Soon, the record Pisni Volodymyra Ivasiuka. Spivaie Sofiia Rotaru was released. The recordings were made at the Dnipro studio from midnight to 5 AM to avoid the noise of Kyiv trams. This endeavor also earned Volodymyr no favor, as he had no legal rights to it. Records were only released by members of the USSR Composers’ Union.
These were good but also challenging years. He was dubbed the Ukrainian Schubert, and his songs were called «blue-eyed». He dreamed of composing an opera called Daryna, working almost around the clock. The radio played Dva persteni, Balada pro dvi skrypky, Mila moia, and Zaprosy mene u sny. He often repeated the saying, «A wing becomes a wing only during flight». He was friends with Yaremchuk, calling the singer «grandpa», while Yaremchuk called him «Valdemar».
During his work, he smoked heavily. At night, while writing scores, he drank milk and ate chocolate candies. By morning, he could orchestrate for 60 instruments without a single musical instrument at hand. He loved gladioluses, mountains, García Lorca’s works, and outdoor adventures.
He pitched a tent on the Black Sea coast, fished, and swam for two to three hours at a time. It was there, in the Valley of Roses, that Dva persteni was born. When he ran out of music sheets, he drew lines in the sand and wrote notes with a rosehip twig.
CRUCIFIXION IN BRYUKHOVYCHI
Over time, warning signs began to emerge. Ivasiuk was being watched. Initially, Moscow radio hinted that he was overly passionate about Ukrainian songs, which were starting to smell like Ukrainian nationalism. «It’s time, young man, to pay homage to Moscow», they said, «after all, what is Ukraine? You should say “Motherland”»
Soon after, in the conservatory hall, the secretary of the party organization accused him of planning to flee abroad. This was a charge of anti-Sovietism, even though Ivasiuk never considered leaving, as he drew inspiration from Ukrainian soil — from the mountain rivers, daffodil valleys, and air.
Eventually, three thugs attacked him in the middle of Lviv. He was left upset, disoriented, and ultimately concluded, «It seems I’m ripe for crucifixion. I just don’t know on which Golgotha it will stand».
Then came the fateful April of 1979. Volodymyr left home and never returned. His parents hoped that a gang had captured him and was holding him in a dark house. They checked every corner, thinking the criminals might have left a note. Instead, what emerged was the Bryukhovychi forest and a tortured body. Unfinished songs and an unfinished novel by Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf. Yet, his Red Rue still blooms a passionate red. Alongside it are mallows and late dahlias. Maple Fire, White Veil, Vodohrai…
