A New Generation Forever The (Bulgarian) revolution goes on
Photographs: Neli Nedeva-Voeva Words and translation: Asya Draganova
The 1980s: A time I will never be able to remember, yet, at the same time, will always remain incapable of forgetting, as it keeps capturing my imagination. I believe this might be true for a whole generation of Bulgarians: us, the “flowers from the ending of the 80s” to cite Vasil Gurov’s lyrics from new wave band Revu. We grew and blossomed in the difficult transitional era that followed the communist regime. The decade which ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall, to many, 38
has an aura of authentic rebellion and struggle for social change; it has become, in the context of Bulgaria, inextricably linked with the emergence of prominent, distinct local subcultural scenes. Sights and sounds contribute to the character of place. On a warm summer night, as you walk on the beach somewhere on the western coast of the Black Sea, or through the parks of Sofia or any other Bulgarian city, you are guaranteed to come across many free-spirited
young (and maybe not-soyoung) people with guitars, goblet drums, and unapologetically loud singing voices. Many, in these situations of spontaneous expression, perform contemporary “classics” by bands and artists like Nova Generatsia (New Generation), Revu, Klas, Kontrol, Vasko the Patch, Milena Slavova, and others, who emerged in the 1980s with their sounds and lyrics, incongruous to the cultural politics of the then-totalitarian Bulgarian state. Not only have many of these artists continued to create music, they have also
participated in the construction of cultural and aesthetic continuities, influencing the formulation and consolidation of diverse contemporary Bulgarian music scenes within the broader constellation of rock genres. Imagination can be provoked and nurtured in all sorts of ways. The sounds and words of Bulgarian subcultural scenes of the 1980s are rich with the metaphorical illustrations of alienation from the repressive realities of Eastern Bloc Bulgaria, and with the outlines of a new, culturally different, and rebellious generation. This generation had an avid thirst for change. The photographs of those key artists, bands, fans, and communities, are indicative of the formulation of a coherent, distinctive phenomenon in Bulgarian popular music and history. Neli Nedeva-Voeva, is a photographer who – from the perspective of an insider – captured on film key moments of Bulgaria’s youth revolution. Her photographs record the visual aesthetic of 1980s subcultural scenes, their artistic expressions and everyday practices of protest through music, poetry and style. Despite being mostly in black and white, Neli’s photos show clearly the contrast between a colourful 1980s Bulgarian youth and their grey surroundings. These surroundings were incompatible with the
energy of creative enthusiasm and talent – impulses which emerged despite of, or because of and in opposition to, the contexts of repression. The photographs in this essay are a collective portrait of an era that produced “a new generation, forever” which has “questions to ask, to a whole nation, forever”, in the words of legendary figure Dimitar Voev (1965 - 1992), a poet and lyricist who fronted bands including Kale and Nova Generatsia. During the processes of “perestroika” and “glasnost”, the years in the second half of the 1980s were marked by reform and opening-up. In addition, youth cultures were finally being acknowledged in academic research and popular publications (controlled by the organs of the state) across the Eastern Bloc. In Bulgaria, the terminology and interpretations around the notion of youth “informals” – neformali – developed. While in research and media there was a strategic focus on the harmless, leisure nature of expression through youth music and style, it was indeed those “informals” that became the core of the re-emerging, liberated Bulgarian consciousness, moving towards an active and critical engagement with processes of change. In 1987, the first Bulgarian rock festival took place in Sofia’s largest park, Borisova Gradina, then called “Park of Liberation”. One of the
bands performing was Kale, which included drummer Kiril Manchev and two bass guitar players and singers Dimitar Voev and Vasil Gurov. Manchev recalls: “When we appeared on stage, all other musicians started wondering – what will those guys play with two bass guitars, will it be jazz rock or something… I was repeating to myself: “Wait until we show you what we can do.” As we got on stage – “one, two, three, four” and our song “Chicho” (“Uncle”) began. I had come up with this cool beat and after the 5th or 6th bar the audience was very much into it. But the greatest surprise was the second song, when we were taken off the stage. Dimitar started singing the song “Epitaph”: “don’t give me your hand to hold, it is covered in pimples, you look like a grey building, that’s how deformed you are…” We heard some voices shout: “What is he singing?! turn down his microphone!” A minute later we were forced off the stage. And what else could I ask for? This was the greatest reward! I felt like a member of the Beatles, taken off the stage! For months I felt like I had wings. Yes, this was one of the greatest success stories of the time.” Kiril Manchev; Featured in exhibition interpretation by Dorothea Monova, The Revolution Goes On 2017 39