Bach to the Future: Violinist Anastasia Khitruk is using the free market and the power of the internet to bring the works of the great classical composers to a modern audience. (Cultural Currents).

As a professional musician, Anastasia Khitruk is on the front line of the culture war. Born in Soviet Russia and brought to the United States as a child, she is grateful for the many blessings this land of opportunity affords her. Now 26, this young violinist has already become an American success story. She has appeared in concert and in competition worldwide, winning prizes and accolades for her virtuosity.

A passionate advocate of classical music, she is introducing a new generation of music lovers to this important element of Western culture via the internet and her own nonprofit organization. A true entrepreneur, she is building a successful career playing the music she loves. A proud American, she is an effective ambassador for the freedoms that make her success possible.

No Guarantees

Anastasia's mother, Elena Tatulyan, was a concert pianist and an assistant professor at the Moscow Conservatory. Elena's parents were also pianists and music professors. As musicians and members of the intelligentsia, the entire family enjoyed privileged status, with living expenses, music education, and career direction provided by the State.

But the family did not have freedom, and Anastasia and her older sister, Daria, could not be insulated from the poisonous propaganda of the Soviet system. Elena was troubled when her daughters were required to recite Communist slogans and songs in their daily classes. "My mother was afraid -- and for good reason -- that going through the Soviet school system would teach us to be hypocrites," Anastasia recalled in an interview with THE NEW AMERICAN. Elena was also upset that the girls were forced to wear the red kerchiefs of the Communist youth, very tangible symbols of their status as "property" of the State. And as State property, the State would decide what would become of them.

Under the Soviet system, musically gifted children were identified and collected from schools throughout the country. Those so "honored" were relocated to Moscow -- without their parents. There they were placed in an environment in which every facet of life revolved around their musical training. The graduates were entered in competitions, awarded prizes, and engaged by Goskontsert, the state-run concert agency.

Anastasia would not be so "honored," however, since her mother opted for freedom over state-provided privileges. In 1981, when Anastasia was six years old, Elena brought her two daughters, as well as the girls' grandmother and great-grandmother, to America. Elena had no guarantees of success here, only a conviction that a better life lay ahead for her family.

Land of Opportunity

Despite her ancestry of pianists, Anastasia chose the violin at the age of only five and a half. She was eight years old when she first performed with an orchestra. At age 13, after having stopped playing for nearly four years, she started up again with a rigorous 10- to 11-hour daily practice regimen in addition to regular schooling. She eventually studied at the prestigious Juilhard School in New York City, under teachers such as the world-famous Dorothy DeLay.

Anastasia has since appeared in concert and recital worldwide, including the United States, Germany, England, Italy, France, Switzerland, Australia, and Brazil. She has also had ample opportunity to return to Eastern Europe, playing in Russia, Lithuania, and Bulgaria. The contrast she has observed between the land of her birth and her adopted country is striking.

In Eastern Europe, she says, even middle- to upper-class apartments are "filthy beyond the imagination of most Americans." The characteristic shortages of food and other necessities have worsened since the "collapse of Communism." Anastasia notes that Russian citizens never speak of "getting" food at the market, but of "procuring" food. They have been given freedom to travel, but they have no money to do so.

A deeper tragedy is the attitude of the Russian people. Rather than experiencing a "break with the past," they endured a "collapse" that has resulted in chaos and despair. Many Russians are now in such desperate straits that they actually long for a return to Communism, or at least a semblance of the only ordered society that they can recall.

Under Communism, entire generations were robbed of a heritage of freedom. The basic concepts of a higher law, private property, and personal responsibility are foreign to citizens of former Communist countries suddenly declared free. "The people there are in such a state of, 'fury,' I would say, they are so disappointed, they are so confused, that they actually want to see other people fail," Anastasia says. "People know now that Americans live much better....They look at their apartments, and their apartments do not look like [the America they see on television]. It doesn't make them say, 'maybe I should repair my building.' It makes them say, 'Americans have managed to really steal the rest of the world blind and that's why they are so wealthy.'"

Throughout her travels, Anastasia hears echoes of an anti-American refrain that, she says, is remarkably consistent from one country to the next, including even Western nations. She summarizes: "The first sentence goes, 'Americans don't do anything for the rest of the world.' And immediately after that, 'America sticks their nose into the rest of the world's business'!"

Anastasia is quite rankled when she hears anti-U.S. sentiments, particularly when they are expressed by fellow Americans. "Remember, I left a hellhole, and my family made a life here. So I'm not only patriotic, I'm also very grateful," she says, noting that 20 years ago, as Jewish emigres from the Soviet Union, her family would not have been received by France, Austria, or Britain.

"Here in America," Anastasia proudly proclaims, "you can make certain calculations about the future. For instance, you can expect people to simply act in their self-interest, and they expect you to act in your self-interest, and you can very cordially disagree and go on with your life." Such attitudes, she recognizes, are rooted in a long tradition of freedom. As she explains: "A lot of [American] society is based on the fact that we inherited -- and live by -- a very old Anglo-Saxon tradition of common law. And a lot of the things we take for granted depend on that: How we deal with each other; the idea of what a company is; the idea that when you sign a contract it actually means something...."

Spirit of Paganini

Anastasia travels frequently, but her heart resides in America. "I have traveled, and as I travel more, every time I come here, I am happy," she says. "[America] has become a very good place for me to be. I am so happy every time I am back. Back to normal civilization!"

Anastasia Khitruk derives her entrepreneurial spirit in part from one of her musical influences: the legendary Italian violinist and composer Niccolo Paganini. In 1809, Paganini made a career move that changed the course of music development. Leaving the court employ of Princess Elise (sister of Napoleon), Paganini struck out on his own as a free-lance soloist. He became the archetype of the Itinerant Virtuoso, performing his own compositions and thrilling audiences with his trademark violin wizardry. His appearances were sold out well in advance as he toured Italy and eventually Europe.

Nearly 200 years later, Anastasia Khitruk is taking her violin and her music directly to the public. Instead of seeking the "patronage" of the few remaining major recording labels, she is reaching thousands of new fans directly via the internet. Two tracks from her appropriately-titled "Passion for Paganini" CD have held the #1 spot in classical on MP3.com, where several hours of her music may be downloaded for free.

Anastasia's driving passion is live performance. She sees CDs as "promotional pieces" by which a potential concertgoer or booking agent might sample her work. Through the internet, she has been able to arrange concerts in Brazil and Europe, as well as an upcoming tour of India. Paganini performed throughout Europe; Khitruk is reaching out to the world.

The Culture War

Anastasia has an even loftier goal than concert circuit fame. She hopes to reacquaint the public with, and elevate their appreciation for, a 400-year heritage of great Western music. She believes that musical standards have eroded during the last century and that classical music is in danger of slipping away, especially for the public at large for whom it was originally written.

In Anastasia's view, this is a national tragedy. She recalls "falling in love" with Bach when she was only two years old. Her orchestral debut at age eight -- was a performance of Bach's A-minor Concerto for Violin and Orchestra. Bach violin works are an important part of her repertoire. The music of Bach is "unbelievably perfect," she says. "It is not humanly possible. It has got to be of God." Indeed, Bach's most powerful works were composed for church worship services, and his original manu- scripts often end with the inscription "S.D.G." for Soli Deo Gloria ("to God alone be glory"). The music of Bach represents the pinnacle of human creativity in concert with the Divine.

How sad it is, Anastasia observes, that classical music is often dismissed as "boring," "academic," "elitist' or even "dead white men's music." Yet classical music encompasses nearly all Western music from the 17th century through the early 20th. It is the basis of all music education. It defines what music is, whether Gregorian chant, symphony, or top-40 hit.

Anastasia points out that the false perception that classical music is "elitist" is partly the fault of the classical music establishment itself. Whereas composers traditionally wrote music for all strata of society - that is, the common man - 20thcentury music lost its aesthetic moorings. As a result, the average listener feels left out. Like modern art, many modern musical compositions need to be explained before they can be understood, much less enjoyed. And such compositions are supposed to be "great"? Not according to Anastasia, who cogently observes: "Great art should not have to be explained."

Although Anastasia has mastered some of the most difficult violin works ever written, including the modern and the inaccessible, her philosophy remains refreshingly simple: "Music should be listenable. I want to play music people will enjoy hearing."

She hopes that more people, especially youth not yet prejudiced against classical music, will be reached via their computers: "I want to present music to them in a way they would find non-threatening. It is free, you lose nothing, you can erase it....Maybe the music can speak for itself." One of her most treasured letters is an e-mail from an enthusiastic young girl in Iran, who happened upon classical music for the first time in the form of Anastasia's mp3s (compressed digital audio files) and wants to become a violinist.

Anastasia founded the Manhattan Music Society, a nonprofit organization dedicated to developing young audiences, as well as presenting young musicians to the public. The society arranges recitals at which the young performers are not only required to play but to speak to the audience and participate in a Q&A session.

Anastasia notes with pride that the private, nonprofit approach to supporting the arts is largely an American phenomenon. "Here, people are in the habit of giving.... In France, Germany, and England the government sponsors recitals, and you 'fit' into their idea of what is appropriate." True to her independent spirit, she prefers to seek after a broad base of individual supporters, noting that even large corporate sponsorship comes with strings attached.

Creative Freedom

Qualities like beauty and creativity have become even more precious to Anastasia, a resident of New York, since the September 11th terrorist attacks. The opposite of creativity -- destruction -- is what she saw upon her return home from Eastern Europe. At the time of the attack, she was in St. Petersburg, Russia, where she was saddened to see many landmarks still in ruin from public demonstrations of nearly a decade ago.

"Creativity binds people together," Anastasia says. "It takes a lot of cooperation to build a World Trade Center, and you have to have a consensus that it is worth it. Destroying the World Trade Center, no matter how cunning the planning was, is still much easier than building it." The Twin Towers were one of Anastasia's favorite New York attractions to show to visitors.

Creativity -- expressed in music, architecture, or any other worthwhile endeavor -- is an important indicator of a healthy society. Despotic nations in the Middle East, for example, have abandoned creativity in order to wage destructive war against the rest of humanity as well as their own citizens. The Russian people have had their development interrupted for entire generations. In America, we possess a heritage of freedom that has allowed creativity to flourish. We can preserve that heritage and, where necessary, we can rebuild.

Anastasia Khitruk lives to make music. Like Paganini before her, she is not waiting for her audience to find her. She is building her own audience through hard work and innovation, and in the process she is helping to preserve our Western heritage of truly great music.