PITTSBURGH — A day after Russia began its invasion of Ukraine, violinist Marta Krechkovsky stayed behind after a rehearsal with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.
She waited until her fellow musicians had packed up and exited the hall before taking center stage and recording “Melody,” an aching, solemn tune that, along with Ukraine’s national anthem, is setting hearts aflame around the globe as musicians perform in solidarity with the besieged.
“My sister and I used to play this melody when we were little kids,” said Krechkovsky, who grew up in Ivano-Frankivsk, a city in Ukraine’s western region.
“When the invasion of Ukraine started, I had constant tears in my eyes, and playing this piece brought me some comfort. … I hope it brings others comfort.”
Music has long been a symbol of resistance and hope for oppressed countries and movements, from the current Russian invasion of Ukraine to Cuba’s mass protest in 2021 to Hong Kong demonstrations in 2019. Early in the invasion, hackers managed to broadcast Ukrainian music through Russian state television channels.
Similar to the way patriots might brandish the flag of their country in solidarity, Ukrainians in bomb shelters and bombarded cities or citizens living in other countries are wrapping themselves in their national melodies. And the global community is responding in kind.
On March 2, Krechkovsky and other members of the PSO recorded “Prayer for Ukraine,” which substitutes for the anthem at times. They’re playing it at live concerts as well. The Metropolitan Opera has released a glorious recording of the national anthem, with many leading orchestras and choirs in the U.S. and Europe following suit.
“Ukraine has always been fighting for freedom and independence from Russia,” said Krechkovsky, who immigrated with her father and sister to Canada when she was 12 to compete in music competitions. Her mother and brother came nearly two years later.
She still has a pair of cousins and an aunt and uncle in Ukraine. One of the cousins, a violinist, has signed up for territorial defense.
On March 9, a ragtag orchestra of about 20 musicians assembled in Kyiv to perform the national anthem in defiance of Russian forces as they advanced on the city.
“The anthem words are so strong. They speak of glory and freedom,” she said. “And when others play it, it shows to us that they care about the Ukrainian people. I hope that it can give them more strength to know that the world is behind them!”
The Ukrainian national anthem is adopted from an 1862 poem by Pavlo Chubynsky. In English, its lyrics begin:
“The glory and freedom of Ukraine has not yet perished. Luck will still smile on us brother-Ukrainians. Our enemies will die, as the dew does in the sunshine, and we, too, brothers, will live happily in our land. We’ll not spare either our souls or bodies to get freedom, and we’ll prove that we brothers are of Kozak kin.”
“It’s jaw dropping that this anthem is playing such an incredible role on the global stage,” said Adriana Helbig, chair of the music department of the University of Pittsburgh.
Helbig, whose grandparents fled Ukraine during World War II, has traveled extensively in the country and the former Soviet Union. For years, her mother ran a travel agency as a front to help people defect from the Soviet Union.
“My mother has a very large FBI file,” she said. “We tried to get her a copy of her KGB file as a birthday present.”
Ukraine’s status as a “border land” to larger countries means that it is something of a melting pot, Helbig said. She explained that Ukraine had not yet had time to coalesce around unifying symbols like the anthem and flag. Its parliament formally adopted the anthem only about 30 years ago after declaring independence from the Soviet Union. It had been banned for more than 70 years.
“But now, suddenly, from east to west and north to south, you have people grabbing onto this image and song that they share in common,” she said. “As an anthropologist, my take is that Putin has inadvertently created what he most feared: a united Ukraine.”
This invasion is far from the only conflict in recent years to see music play a key role. During Hong Kong’s 2019 protest of Chinese authoritarianism, an anonymous composer penned a “national anthem” that swept the nation and world. Hong Kong’s supporters spontaneously burst into song in malls and at sports stadiums. In the summer of 2021, a Cuban rap song, “Patria y Vida (Homeland and Life),” took on a similar role during protests in Cuba.
“All dictatorships are afraid of independent art,” said Jorge Olivera Castillo, a writer, musician and activist from Cuba in the exiled writer residency at Pittsburgh’s City of Asylum. “Culture is very important to dictatorships — it’s one of the most important walls for a totalitarian regime in order to control the thoughts of the people.”
Castillo knew personally the creators of the song and credits it with igniting unity during what he called Cuba’s first large-scale protest of its totalitarian regime.
Unlike donation dollars or aid packages, it’s difficult to quantify the impact of music in times of crises. But it plays an important — even essential — role in raising awareness and promoting solidarity.
