Back in April, I made a flying trip to Prague to spend a few days with my dear friends Andrew and Babette. I’d never been to the Czech Republic before, so I used the opportunity to see the sights: the statue of Jan Hus, the Jewish cemetery and the tomb of Rabbi Loew, creator of the legendary Golem of Prague. But I was in for an unexpected treat when Andrew took me to see an evening show of Moje Sibiř, a spatial composition centred around the spirit of Siberia. Over the space of 45 minutes and seven movements, Roman Zabelov and his troupe dimmed the lights and carried the audience away into the endless forests of the Siberian taiga by the power of music alone.

Roman led the suite with his voice and his accordion, conducting much of the composition with eyes closed tight in the manner of a shaman weaving some kind of ancient magic. Speaking of spellbinding, I have never seen an accordion played so creatively: it is obvious that Roman is a something of a frontiersman, combining unorthodox techniques with a quasi-mystical, body-and-soul engagement with his craft, like a Belarusian Pan of the Far East. Zabelov’s ensemble, stationed in various locations around the performance space, worked together to turn the hall into something far more intense than a simple performance space. Through a clever combination of ethereal singing, haunting vocals and long, whooshing breaths, it felt as though they were summoning the arctic wind itself into the room. I had to close my eyes for one of the movements and let it carry me away.

The setting might have been showstopping in its own right, with seating arranged beneath the myriad paintings of the Baroque Refectory of the Dominican Cathedral of St. Giles, but a combination of technical wizardry and clever vocal choreography transformed the gallery into an illusory space: shadows seemed to leap from the paintings and follow the echoes around the room, while the heavens above rippled beneath the rusty iron waters of a tundra pool. I might as well have been holding the heart of the taiga in my hands.

Whether or not it was Roman’s intention, I have been spellbound by the idea of Siberia ever since. I suppose it’s the instigator behind my current fascination with the Amur region and its tigers. If it weren’t for the fact that any and all possibilities of traveling out there are off the table because of the current tension between Russia and the West, I might well have been looking into making my own way out there. It’s amazing what a little musical hypnotic suggestion can do. BB x

There are places that whisper and shout. There are places we return to and that we look for all our lives. These places are both real and imaginary, but that doesn’t detract from their reality. Such is My Siberia.
Roman Zabelov