This year, two incredibly famous groups hit the music market--"Tatu" and "Smash!!". Anton Krasovskyi spent three days with the stars in Moscow.
Our acquaintance started with a call from Tatu's office: "The girls won't take part in this photoshoot. We don't like the concept. Maybe we just understand such words as 'unordinary' and 'fresh' in different ways?"
"But how can that be? I thought we had come to an agreement a month ago. The photo shoot is scheduled for tomorrow!"
"Well, that means there won't be any photoshoot. And besides, you should remember that the girls don't give interviews. Well, maybe just 2-3 phrases with Ivan Shapovalov's comments."
The representative of Universal company, that produces Tatu's CDs, sighed sadly: "Do you think you are the first? Some people even called to London, to our bosses and tried different, other things. We'd be glad to help you, but we can't. It's only Ivan who decides in this situation."
Ivan himself was brief but courteous, "Well, let's meet. At our office from 7 to 9."
From Vogue's office to Tatu's - only 15 mins on foot. From Tverskaya street to Patriarshie and then - to Maliy Kozihinskiy lane. It's on the ground floor. Lots of people in the hall. Shapovalov himself is talking to long-haired Lena and shortly-cut and dishevelled Yulia: "You have to record now".
"Van' [Ivan Shapovalov - translator], we can't. We are very tired. We are hungry."
"Go, have a fast supper and come back. We need to record."
The girls pout and look at the clock. It's 20:00. As they answer our playful question "So, will you make this photoshoot tomorrow?" only gloomy looks and whimpers appear. "No. We are very tired. We want one day of rest." And right after that: "And how wil wel look like?"
"Like angels that came down to this earth from the heaven. Like in the movie 'There Is No News From God'."
"We are not angels. We are just girls. We are not gonna do this."
Shapovalov is drinking tea and smiling, "Okay. Let's take a break and wait for your photographer. Then we'll be discussing this. If you offer something that touches me, any concept or place - no problem. The photoshoot will happen."
At this moment, their director, a big, kind man, with a big smile, comes in, "The girls are really very tired. We just came back from the Europe tour. You can't even imagine how people reacted to our girls there. In Romania and Bulgaria, they are stars. And now we're releasing our CD in Italy and Spain and then in the States. The promotion starts with the same song as here, 'Ya Soshla S Uma'."
Here they are, New Russians: huge eyes, heart-rending, hysterical vocals, and amazing, thrifty performance.
"And how will it be in English?"
The director becomes thoughtful, "I'll go and ask now." He comes back with a pink sheet of paper with a name and transcription written there: "Ol Ze Singz Shi Sed."
Three weeks after our talk, the "All The Things She Said" single topped Italian and Spanish charts, the portraits of Yulia Volkova and Lena Katina appeared on foreign magazines' covers and Russian yellow press began to write up such articles as "Tatu girls screwed Italian lesbians". And every day, coming to my work, I was finding such messages in my mailbox: "The journalists form up queues to meet the girls who right from the beginning aspire only to the #1 positions of all charts". But for the present, there is only us who stand in this queue and these girls have thoughts only for a hot meal and a cup of hot chocolate.
Excited, Shapovalov comes in, "I have an idea! Let's make this photoshoot in the church. Like the girls are being married. What do you think?" The photographer Nezimaev seems to be horrified.
"Well, let's do that," I say.
"Excellent," Ivan is smiling. "Then let's have a smoke and go to look for a church."
The next morning began in the men's bathroom of our editorial office. Yulia and Lena were washing their heads with the cold water and all the hairdressers, stylists, producers, assistants of the photographer were roaming around. "They won't change clothes," Shapovalov proclaimed categorically. "Bear in mind: only these crystal dresses. All other clothes don't fit their style." "Okay, as you wish," I mumbled, thinking, "God, why do we do all this? The concept is already destroyed, lots of pretenses going around and every new thought starts with the phrase: 'Tatu is number one in this country.' Nightmare!"
But on the other hand--who else? Tatu is the first Russian band who really made it into the world market. Neither Alsou, nor Gorky Park and even PPK accomplished this. But these two girls, always hugging in front of the camera, pretending to be lesbians, striking lighters with frozen fingers in the hall. Simple-minded foul language users, with good English and bad manners. Here you are, real New Russians: huge eyes, heart-rending, hysterical vocal and competent calculated PR.
They appeared 2 years ago. Shapovalov, who was making advertising clips then, found them in the children's band "Neposedi". They were found perhaps specifically for the idea of the video, where two sobbing girls should reach hands for each other, scream and make declarations of love. In the October 2002, the video "Ya Soshla S Uma" topped all Russian charts. One and all! It's understood, that any supernatural sexuality was out of the question. All these kisses, "I need her", "they won't get us", are just a provocative statement intended for a completely bourgeois world with it's sickly sweet polite correctness. For the world of the healthy and young, wealthy and satisfied. And the main victory of Tatu isn't in selling millions of legal CDs, and even isn't in the fact that every one of their songs tops the charts. Their victory is in recognizing Russia as a bourgeois country. The country that plunged into European tranquillity. The country that can be scared with such banal, in essence, things like one-gender petting and masturbation in the bathroom.
The victory of Tatu is a victory for new Russia. It's a nice, glossy nature. It is not music, it is a tiny symbol of an epoch, the step on the way to civilization. Like advertising, mortgage, teeth insurance or Vogue magazine.
My thinking is interrupted by the capricious voice of Yulia, "We won't do this shoot in the church." At this time Lena is calling Ivan, "Vanya says we have to do this. Okay, tomorrow we'll go to another church and set the candle there."
However, they didn't let us in the church. All these stories about girl-angels and wonderful photoshoot for the future movie didn't convince the strict monks. And even the philosophical debate, organized by Shapovalov, didn't help. "We don't know how angels should look like," decided the prior, "but sure not like this." Ivan was really upset.
Yulia is taking me by the hand, "Enough. Let's go and buy 'Doshirak'. I'm hungry. If I won't eat... I don't know... I'm in such a mood that can screw everybody. No matter if it's Shapovalov or Pugacheva. I don't care." After buying a packet of vermicelli, two bananas and one chocolate bar, we came back to our microbus. We went to restaurant Le Duc with it's gothic interiors that reminded me of a monastery that much. Did the shoot. "I hardly understand why we need Vogue," says Ivan suddenly. "This material even erodes our audience. We don't work for women but for teenage girls." Here starts the half an hour lecture about advertising politics, differentiation of age groups and other marketing joys. Shapovalov is talking in selflessness, obviously understanding what it's all about and how much it costs. "I'll go and have supper, I'm very tired," he sits at the table and starts to look through menu with interest. He doesn't remember about us anymore. Like there were none of these shoot, hysterics, night negotiations. But we remember. Remember and understand that there's nothing we erode. Tatu--is our audience. Without these tastiness and musicology's folies. It's very simple--we are just links of one chain.
Tatu's victory is Russia's victory. Her pretty, classy surface!
Translation by Sunny Poison.
Edited by katbeidar and E.
TatySite.Net
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