Bulgarian Memories

Last January, KITKA was offered the performance and research opportunity of a lifetime. Dr. Dora Hristova, director of the world-famous, Grammy Award-winning Bulgarian women's choir Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares, extended an invitation to KITKA to join her choir in Sofia for Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares 50th Anniversary Jubilee Concert at the Bulgarian National Palace of Culture in Sofia. This was an offer we felt we could not refuse, a tremendous honor for KITKA as an American ensemble performing Bulgarian music. But the economic situation in Bulgaria was desperate, and funds were not available to cover our travel expenses to Sofia. So we took a leap of faith, accepted Maestra Hristova's invitation, and began fundraising. KITKA was awarded a Collaborative Projects grant from ArtsLink, a project of CEC International Partners, and hundreds of fans from across the country and around the world sent contributions toward our Balkan Travel Fund. The response and support of our community was overwhelmingly generous. KITKA traveled to Sofia on June 3 and spent four days rehearsing with the 24-voice Bulgarian women's choir, appearing three times on Bulgaria's three national television networks. The jubilee concert took place on June 7, in the 5000-seat "Hall 1" of the National Palace of Culture.

Following the concert, KITKA traveled to the village of Kovachevtsi in the Samokov region, south of Sofia, to gather songs and experience a slice of village life. Kovachevtsi is the native home of our dear friend Kremena Stancheva, a soloist in Le Mystère, and the woman who brought the hair-raising sound of Shope-style harvest songs to the ears of the world. Kremena and her friends welcomed us into their lives with overwhelming hospitality. Song-sharing sessions with Kremena, her Le Mystère colleagues, and the babi (grandmothers) of the village, were interspersed with outings, herb-gathering hikes in the hills, and feasts of Balkan village (truly "farm fresh"!) cuisine and libations prepared by Kremena, her sister Stanka, and their neighbors.

Sofia

Rehearsing with the Mystery Girls With Dora Hristova, in Sofia TV station "Reporterite" set

Magpies greet us at the Sofia runway lined with overgrown grass. It feels wonderful to be in such a foreign setting: crumbling stone buildings with balconies, cobblestone streets, blaring American billboards, billboards with Cyrillic lettering, no lane divisions, people driving like maniacs, giant soviet era statues, crumbling, big, overgrown parks behind stone walls, mix of old crumbling things and communist era crumbling things but everything crumbling. (JK)

Our first day walking about Sofia. What a thrill to come across posters advertising the concert we'd come half way across the world to perform. We couldn't believe we were actually there after all this time. (AM)

Our first rehearsal with the "Mystery Girls"

Many of them are old friends, and we know that Dora Hristova, the powerhouse director supports us, but still, as we make our way up several flights of stairs, twisting and turning into the bowels of the building, we can't help but be nervousThe rehearsal room has light pouring through the wall of windows on one side - like so much in Bulgaria not new or in perfect repair but aesthetically satisfying. We try to take our seats unobtrusively as Dora addresses the rapt choir. And then they are singing and I find myself crying - with that onrush of sound, I suddenly understand I am really here, in Bulgaria, in this room with THESE singers, some of the best in the country. I turn to look at other Kitkettes, and see tears streaming all down the row. I feel humble, ecstatic and so lucky. They finish, we are welcomed, then invited to join them in their formation. We sandwich ourselves amongst them, according to voice range. I burrow deep into the "treti glas" (third voice - alto) section. And we sing a song KITKA has sung forever Svatba, that opens with a prominent alto line, and as we sing I am flying, surrounded by all this sound, and I'm part of it, buoyed by the power and the beauty of these amazing voices. I would cry again, but I have to blend with them, and remember my part, and notice how their version is different from ours in places, so I just sing and sing. (MS)

Onstage

Young dancers backstage

Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares

The concert at the National Palace of Culture Dora asked that we open our segment of the concert by singing Pilence Pee (The bird is singing), by Krasimir Kyurktshiyski, on our own. This is an extremely challenging piece with very complex chromatic harmonies, dynamic shifts, and vocal acrobatics...a work scored for a choir three times KITKA's size. We were a little nervous, but questioning her programming choice was not an option. Not only were the 24 singers who had made that song famous standing right behind us on the stage, the composer was also sitting in the audience, and the performance was being recorded for broadcast on Bulgarian National Television! We walked onto the stage, gazed out at the huge auditorium, filled with everyone one who was anyone in Bulgarian music plus thousands more. Then, we looked at each other, amazed by the reality of who we were, where we were, and what we were about to do. We braced ourselves, and began the song. As soon as the opening chords rang out, the entire audience burst into wild applause and cheers. It was an incredible moment of cross-cultural affirmation that I don't think we will ever forget. Following Pilence Pee the Le Mystère joined us downstage. We became a veritable wall of sound as we joined forces to sing Svatba. What an experience it was to sing alongside these incredible women who had been our far-away muses for so long. (SC)

Mystery Girls onstage Backstage

Review of the Le Mystere des Voix Bulgares 50th Anniversary Jubilee Concert by Maria Netsova,Vestnik Za Zhenata (Women's News), SOFIA, BULGARIA

"The Bulgarian audience applauded KITKA wildly... and this applause was not merely patriotic. The singers, with eyes shimmering joyously, touched the hearts of those present with their pure sound, perfect intonation, and the amazing ease with which they mastered the sophisticated rhythms and melodic ornaments of the folk songs. Their highly professional performance showcased their painstaking work, strong commitment, devotion, and great passion.

Kovachevtsi

Village life

Kovacevtsi

Kovacevtsi, main street

At the well

We arrive in Kovacevtsi and it's like entering a Hollywood set called "village." It's almost scary since it seems every bit as villagey as I'd hoped but in my imagination I hadn't thought to include the strong smells that make it all seem so completely real. It smells wonderfully of animal life and fresh air! It is s definitely a village.

It's another world: dogs are barking, 2 donkeys walk down the middle of the street, kerchiefed old women wearing aprons and men's shoes walk down the street, dark skinned Roma (gypsies) walk down the street, and the occasional tiny beat-up car filled to the brim goes careening down the street at full speed weaving around the obstacle course of gaping holes where manhole covers have been stolen. (JK)

Yagoda and Lily

The mayor's goats

View from the village

Catherine Rose makes a friend

The Mayor Named Strawberry

Yagoda (Strawberry), the tiny super-energetic, philosophical mayor of Kovachevtsi who, clutching a large medieval key, led us to the local church to feel its healing energy, and to tell us of the power in it's ancient pre-Christian stones. Behind the church, she directed a group hug of a 1000 year old oak, one of the four that form a cross at the center of which lies the village, a place they feel is especially blessed by God. We finish our afternoon at Yagoda's home, sampling her homemade sweet plum rakia and soft white sheep's milk feta, after which she introduced us to her flock of lambs. I'd vote for this mayor! (CRC)

Bulgarian Birthday

Shira's birthday

Curious residents of Kovacevtsi

"Shira rozhden den," I said to Kremena haltingly after flipping around in my Bulgarian dictionary. Then I said "cake," and made the shape of a cake with my hands. From then on it became clear that it was completely out of my control. The word spread like wildfire. In the days leading up to her birthday, while we were still in Sofia, bouquets of flowers and gifts began materializing unexpectedly from unexpected people. On the actual day of Shira's birthday, we traveled to Kovachevtsi. After settling in, we sat down to a sumptuous dinner at Kremena's. After dinner, out came one of the biggest, gooiest, most amazing birthday cakes I've ever seen or tasted.

Shira, who was already overwhelmed by her birthday experience in Bulgaria thus far, finally reached her breaking point. Tears ran down her face as we sang happy birthday, more gifts came out and Daniel Spassov, a beautiful and revered singer who came into town specially that evening, serenaded her. It was an intoxicating evening full of rakia, birthday cake and song. (LB)

Rakia

Lunch at Binka's

Studying with the Mystery Girls

Radka Aleksova

Studying with Dora Hristova

Studying with Kremena

Ah, rakia! Grape-skin brandy of the gods (and tired singers), this was our nightly ritual: to pretend not to want any--well, maybe just a little--and fend off the generous pouring nature of our host, Kremena's husband, Ivan. Little beaker-like bottles were traditional, and they had sayings painted on them, like, "Malko mi e" (too little for me), or figures of men making their own rakia. Upon returning late from Plovdiv, we were treated to some homemade stuff courtesy of our van driver--of course, accompanied by the ever present and welcome banitsa (feta cheese pastry)! (DD)

Maria

Maria!

The singing Babis

Our wonderful hosts

In the village, Maria got up at 5:00 every morning and milked the goats and cow to bring us milk and yogurt. She was ageless, sometimes seeming ancient with her giant gnarled hands; sometimes smoking a cigarette on the porch, like a girl. She told Kalina, our translator, that when her husband and son died, she stopped singing forever, but she continues to listen to others with obvious pleasure. (LS)

Lullabies from Kremena

Kremena and Casimir

Kremena at the picnic singing (she's always singing!)

Rila Monastery

Ann and Kalina in Plovdiv

Driving back to Kovachevtsi after a day trip to Plovdiv in the yellow van with Dancho at the wheel. I am holding my 9-month old, Casimir, on my lap - there are no car seats nor seat belts (this is not America). He begins to fuss - so travel weary is he. Kremena demands that I hand him to her in the seat behind me. She begins to sing to him, song after silly Bulgarian children's song, as we traverse the Bulgarian countryside. Soon, Casimir is lulled into sleep by the sweetest of voices and in the most loving arms of our wonderful host, Kremena Stancheva. (JG)

Concert in the Village Square

Farewell concert in Kovacevtsi

I think the most profound moment for me in Bulgaria was singing to the village of Kovachevsti on Saturday night. We were THE Saturday night entertainment. Everyone in the village knew who we were and that we "ate" at Kremena's house. We had been around all week and greeting folks in the streets, but that night we would be singing in Bulgarian to real Bulgarians. Not fancy concert-going Sofia Bulgarians, and not TV studio Bulgarians, but real, farm-dirt under the nail, we live the life you're singing about Bulgarians. In a mountain village. In the village square. Surrounded by villagers.

As we collected ourselves and walked toward the square, clumps of people fell in behind us or approached the square ahead of us, converging upon the scene in shy and not-so-shy mobs. I tried to take a picture of the crowds encircling us, but nothing on film communicated the sense of awe we felt standing in front of, and amongst these Kovachevtsians. (DD)

In the village square, last night

Our last night in Kovachevtsi

The impromptu concert in the village square at dusk. I was overcome with emotion at the intense enthusiasm and sheer good will of the local Roma kids. Talk about energy! (AM)

A Night on the Town in Bansko

Rumen Shopov in Bansko

Serenaded in Bansko

Bulgarian mountains

In the smallest village of them all

Bansko is a gorgeous, picturesque, historic town at the foot of the majestic Pirin mountain range. In wintertime, skiers flock here not only for the slopes and scenery, but also for the great late-night food, drinking, dancing, and live music in the town's many mexanas. But it is a Monday night in June, and the town is quiet. Townspeople make their way home from the fields with their bell and tassle-bedecked animals. The streets are lined with locals sitting on benches outside their stone and wood homes gossiping and greeting passers-by. Our friends Rumen and Dancho, from Gotse Delchev, escort us to a mexana for dinner. Perhaps the only non-locals in town, we are the sole party at the beautiful courtyard restaurant. Halfway through our Shopska salatas five men in white shirts and black vests enter the courtyard donning an accordion, a trumpet, a sax, a clarinet, and a darambouka. They surround our table and serenade us... first with their instruments, then with their resonant voices singing in amazing tight harmony. During ski season, these guys are the house band here, but tonight, they've made a special trip to give us a taste of authentic Bansko nightlife. Before long, and after a little rakia, we are all singing together and back and forth to each other at the top of our lungs. When we break into Pusta Mladost the entire kitchen crew spills out onto the patio incredulous that a bunch of oddly-dressed women from California could render this signature Pirin song with such gusto. (SC)

Enjoying live traditional music by the fantastic musicians of the Gotse Delchev ensemble at a mexana in Bansko. Great music, great food, great company, and lots of rakia! (AM)

More vignettes, color photos, and sound bites from our Bulgarian adventure will be posted on our website, www.kitka.org, soon!