Kyiv Dispatch – 17th July 2026
Christopher Nosnibor
For those of us who have never lived through war – domestically, that is – it’s hard to imagine what life is like. Living in the UK, I have the privilege of not having experienced it: both of my parent were born at the end of the second world war and lived under rationing as children, but they didn’t grow up living in fear of bombs falling. And while I look out into my back yard and see the brick and concrete bomb shelter which I use to brew beer, it’s beyond my conception to imagine what it must have been like to live in a time where I would actually have to take refuge in it, although the part of York where I live – or nearby – was bombed in 1942, with numerous some 94 people killed and 238 injured by some 84 tonnes of bombs, dropped in just 90 minutes.
But the fact is that life goes on – because it has to. And art is still made – because what else are artists to do? The title of this release is a little confusing, but the text which accompanies this release, which is particularly powerful, and speaks of the effects of war on the citizens of those countries stricken by war sheds some light on the questions of artistic ownership. It also highlights the fact that wars are waged by governments, not the people. and so we learn how ‘In 2022, with war in Ukraine raging, the composer Valentin Silvestrov was forced, at the age of 85, to flee Kyiv, abandoning his home studio. Silvestrov is one of the leading figures of the Ukrainian musical avant garde, active from the early 1960s onward and for Evgeny Gromov, Ukrainian pianist, researcher and curator, his forced departure was a tragedy, his absence keenly and personally felt’.
The notes go on to explain how this prompted him ‘to hasten the release of this double album, on which Gromov performs key piano works by Silvestrov, from his early, modernist period to his later, more beautifully accessible pieces. The sense of urgency is not just because Silvestrov is approaching ninety years old but also out of the daily sense of mortality felt by all those living in Kyiv. Hence also the founding of the Kyiv Dispatch label in 2022, dedicated to showcasing the full spectrum of Ukrainian new music. Both artistic and existential immediacy underpin the album, as Evgeny Gromov explains: “A great deal of Silvestrov’s music simply does not exist in sound. It exists as scores, as reputation, as a name but not as a lived, performed body of work. There is still no real tradition of its performance. For decades I have been working with this music across its full range, from the early avant-garde works to the later Bagatelles. In a sense, I am its performing extension. And at a certain point it became obvious: if this is not played now, systematically, insistently, it will remain absent.’
This is significant. How much art, how much thought, is lost in time due to an absence of documentation? This, then, is more than a matter of the impacts of war, but also a question of legacy, and of ephemerality.
Recorded in just four days, Moments Of Silvertones is Gromov’s urgent, even desperate, attempt to capture and document the work of Valentin Silvestrov, and we are all fortunate that he has. ‘Five Piano Pieces 1961’ is dramatic – essentially neoclassical in style, in places playful, in others feeling more moody, while ‘Triad 1962’ is very much more geared toward the delicate side, but again revealing a levity which counterbalances the shade.
The expansive ‘Piano Sonata No 2’- extending to almost sixteen minutes in duration, is a magnificently balanced work, and entertaining, playing with the tropes of jazz and minimalism as well as classical music with some bold hits resonating as hard as falling down a flight of stair, and evoking the spirit of silent movies – although it’s a fair way from Laurel and Hardy. Because it’s as a bygone age, and as much as we may wish to remember it fondly… we are increasingly drawn by nostalgia, as we cling with ever-increasing desperation to a past which felt to much better, so much easier, but, despite its focus on compositions from the 1960 (in its first half, at least), while also being devoted to preserving the more recent past (the ‘Bagatelles, Op.’ pieces dating from 2003-2006), Moments Of Silvertones is ultimately a collection of pieces which are delicate and soothing. And despite the conditions of its recording, nothing could be further removed from war or its soundtracking. This is what it means to be human. Moments Of Silvertones is an album hat needs to be heard as a reminder of this – and also because it’s an example of magnificently poised composition and beautiful musicianship.
AA