Latest news with #Babel
San Francisco Chronicle
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- San Francisco Chronicle
Mumford and Sons to bring folk tunes to Berkeley
Mumford and Sons emerged from the West London folk community in the late 2000s, and have since become global sensations. The group formed in 2007, and is composed of multi-instrumentalists Marcus Mumford, Ted Dwane and Ben Lovett. They began to break into the U.S. mainstream in the early 2010s with tracks such as 'Little Lion Man' and 'The Cave,' eventually earning their first Grammy Award for their sophomore album 'Babel,' which released in 2012. Mumford and Sons have continued to release records periodically since, and Mumford ventured out on his debut solo project, 'Self-Titled,' in 2022 while continuing to make music with the band. He performed at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass that same year. Now, fans can catch the folk rock group at UC Berkeley's Greek Theater on Monday-Tuesday, June 9-10.
Yahoo
02-06-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Ukrainian military responds to commander's claim of no state-supplied FPV drones for 3rd Brigade
Ukraine's Armed Forces responded to recent comments by Andrii Biletskyi, commander of the 3rd Army Corps, who claimed that the 3rd Separate Assault Brigade had not received any state-supplied (first-person-view) FPV drones for three months, Babel reported on June 2. The 3rd Brigade, which formed the basis for the formation of the 3rd Army Corps, is seen as one of the most battle-hardened Ukrainian units. Many of its members include Azov veterans. In a written response to a request from Babel, the Armed Forces of Ukraine said the brigade had received a total of 7,992 unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) of various types between Jan. 1 and May 27. The military did not clarify whether that number included FPV drones. According to the military's logistics service, units are provided with a list of available equipment and may select what they need. All requests submitted by the 3rd Assault Brigade were reportedly fulfilled. The brigade must submit a separate request to the Defense Ministry for targeted funding if it requires a specific modification that is not in stock, the response read. That was the case in May, when the 3rd Assault Brigade received funds for procurement, the logistics department told Babel. In total, the state reportedly allocated Hr 151.5 million (about $3.6 million) to the brigade in 2025 for drone purchases. As of May 28, 57% of those funds had been spent. Biletskyi made his comments in an interview published May 11 with journalist Yurii Butusov. "I'd like to 'thank' the Defense Ministry — for three months, the 3rd Assault Brigade did not receive a single FPV drone," Biletskyi said. "We were severely lacking (the drones,) " he added. "Without the FPVs supplied by the state, we really dried out during these three months, because the front line is huge." Biletskyi also said the supply flow of drones to his unit has fluctuated. "In some periods, we received 30–40% of what was needed, and that mattered." Drones have proven especially effective during Ukraine's full-scale war with Russia, with both sides using them extensively on the front lines and for strikes beyond the battlefield. Read also: Ultimate guide on how drones changed warfare in Ukraine We've been working hard to bring you independent, locally-sourced news from Ukraine. Consider supporting the Kyiv Independent.
Boston Globe
05-05-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
Bombed by Russia, Odesa now wages a cultural battle
Much as they oppose Russia's war, they fear the law will erase Odesa's character. 'You can't remove Babel,' said Antonina Poletti, 41, editor of a local news outlet and a sixth-generation Odesan. 'If you remove him, you remove the soul of the city.' Advertisement The city is already enduring the ordeal of Russia's invasion, with drones and missiles hitting it every other night. Now a cultural battle is dividing Odesa, with the Babel statue a flash point. The spark was the decolonization law, which was part of a broader effort in wartime Ukraine to sever ties with Russian heritage and build an identity free of its influence. On the surface, the cultural dispute seems like any other dividing cities around the world. Political opponents seizing the issue to score points. University professors dismissing one another's work. Street activists defacing statues. Local elites appealing to international cultural organizations. Advertisement But both sides say the outcome of the culture dispute in Odesa has outsize importance. Odesa was founded under the Russian empire and is home to a largely Russian-speaking population. The debate will shape the nation's postwar identity and whether it is focused on Ukrainian roots and stripped of Russian influences, or embraces a broader, multicultural heritage. 'Odesa is a test for Ukraine,' said Artem Kartashov, an Odesa lawyer and backer of the decolonization law. 'It's a test of how we fight Russian influences — how we are fighting them now, and how we plan to fight them in the future.' The decolonization law is the latest step in Ukraine's decadelong effort to shed the legacy of its former rulers — first the Russian Empire, then the Soviet Union. Previous laws banned Soviet symbols, toppling Vladimir Lenin statues nationwide, and made Ukrainian the mandatory language in most aspects of public life. Passed in the spring of 2023, the decolonization law targets lingering symbols of Russia's cultural dominance. In most places, the process has unfolded without resistance: More than 25,000 streets and squares have been renamed and more than 1,000 monuments dismantled. One prominent target has been 19th-century Russian poet Alexander Pushkin. Censored and exiled under the czarist regime, he was later elevated by Josef Stalin as a cultural icon to promote Russian culture in the Soviet Union, with statues erected across Ukraine. The Kremlin has revived that approach during the current war, plastering his image in the ruins of occupied Mariupol. Advertisement But in Odesa, many residents view Pushkin not as a symbol of Russian propaganda, but as the freedom-loving poet who spent a year in exile in their city, where he began work on his masterpiece 'Eugene Onegin.' A bust of him, funded by locals in 1889, still towers over a seaside promenade. Iryna Radian, 57, a French teacher in Odesa, said she supported removing statues of Russian military figures. 'But great people and writers — what do they have to do with this?' she asked, standing beside Pushkin's bust. 'I think we need a much more nuanced approach.' Around her stood monuments reflecting Odesa's imperial and Soviet past, including the grand Potemkin Stairs, 192 granite steps and 10 landings that descend toward the port. Once a symbol of imperial ambition, they were later immortalized as a site of communist revolt in Sergei Eisenstein's film 'Battleship Potemkin.' 'Whether we like it or not, much of our city's history is tied to imperial and Soviet periods,' said Ivan Liptuga, head of the cultural department at Odesa's City Council. 'It's impossible to erase, ignore or rewrite these facts.' Liptuga said the City Council had done its part under the decolonization law, renaming 230 streets honoring Soviet generals and Catherine the Great, the Russian empress who founded Odesa in 1794. That represents one-tenth of Odesa's streets — enough, Liptuga said with a smile, for taxi drivers to get lost. Even before the decolonization law, the city removed a statue of Catherine in late 2022. It now lies horizontally in a metal box in the courtyard of a museum. But the regional administration, which answers to the president's office, deemed the effort insufficient: It renamed 83 more streets and designated about 20 monuments for removal, including those honoring Russian-speaking literary figures such as Babel and Pushkin. Advertisement Opponents of the decolonization law have appealed to UNESCO, the United Nations' cultural agency, arguing that some monuments slated for removal fall under its protection. The agency is expected to deliver its conclusions on the matter this summer. Supporters of the decolonization push in Odesa see it as a chance to finally rid the city of Russian influences. But erasing all traces of Russian heritage risks alienating Ukrainians who grew up speaking Russian and are steeped in its culture, yet remained loyal to Ukraine when Moscow's troops invaded, said Poletti, a Russian speaker and the editor of the English-language Odessa Journal. 'The Ukrainian identity is a civic one, not an ethnic one,' Poletti said. 'If you impose one ethnic model, you will create a big social conflict. I'm scared by this future.' This article originally appeared in .
New York Times
05-05-2025
- Politics
- New York Times
Bombed by Russia, Odesa Now Wages a Cultural Battle
The writer Isaac Babel is memorialized in the act of creative thinking, eyes on the horizon and pen resting on a stack of paper, in a bronze statue in downtown Odesa — his home city on Ukraine's Black Sea shore. The statue may soon be dismantled. To Ukrainian authorities, it is a threat that must be eliminated under a so-called decolonization law ordering the removal of 'symbols of Russian imperial politics' to protect Ukrainian culture. The law ensnared the statue of Babel, who served in the Soviet Red Army and built part of his literary career in Russia early last century. The planned removal has prompted strong pushback from many Odesa residents. They argue that in his classic 'Odessa Stories' and elsewhere, Babel's writings about the city's Jewish heritage and its gritty world of smugglers and artists of every ethnicity helped make Odesa famous and showcased its multicultural identity. Much as they oppose Russia's war, they fear that the law will erase Odesa's character. 'You can't remove Babel,' said Antonina Poletti, 41, the editor of a local news outlet and a sixth-generation Odesan. 'If you remove him, you remove the soul of the city.' The city is already enduring the ordeal of Russia's invasion, with drones and missiles hitting it every other night. Now a cultural battle is dividing Odesa, with the Babel statue a flashpoint. The spark was the decolonization law, which was part of a broader effort in wartime Ukraine to sever ties with Russian heritage and build an identity free of its influence. On the surface, the cultural dispute seems like any other dividing cities around the world. Political opponents seizing the issue to score points. University professors dismissing each other's work. Street activists defacing statues. Local elites appealing to international cultural organizations. But both sides say the outcome of the culture dispute in Odesa has outsize importance. Odesa was founded under the Russian empire and is home to a largely Russian-speaking population. The debate will shape the nation's postwar identity and whether it is focused on Ukrainian roots and stripped of Russian influences, or embraces a broader, multicultural heritage. 'Odesa is a test for Ukraine,' said Artem Kartashov, an Odesa lawyer and backer of the decolonization law. 'It's a test of how we fight Russian influences — how we are fighting them now, and how we plan to fight them in the future.' The decolonization law is the latest step in Ukraine's decade-long effort to shed the legacy of its former rulers — first the Russian Empire, then the Soviet Union. Previous laws banned Soviet symbols, toppling Lenin statues nationwide, and made Ukrainian the mandatory language in most aspects of public life. Passed in spring 2023, the decolonization law targets lingering symbols of Russia's cultural dominance. In most places, the process has unfolded without resistance: More than 25,000 streets and squares have been renamed and more than 1,000 monuments dismantled. One prominent target has been the 19th-century Russian poet Alexander Pushkin. Censored and exiled under the czarist regime, he was later elevated by Stalin as a cultural icon to promote Russian culture in the Soviet Union, with statues erected across Ukraine. The Kremlin has revived that approach during the current war, plastering his image in the ruins of occupied Mariupol. But in Odesa, many residents view Pushkin not as a symbol of Russian propaganda, but as the freedom-loving poet who spent a year in exile in their city, where he began work on his masterpiece 'Eugene Onegin.' A bust of him, funded by locals in 1889, still towers over a seaside promenade. Iryna Radian, 57, a French teacher in Odesa, said she supported removing statues of Russian military figures. 'But great people and writers — what do they have to do with this?' she asked, standing beside Pushkin's bust. 'I think we need a much more nuanced approach.' Around her stood monuments reflecting Odesa's imperial and Soviet past, including the grand Potemkin Stairs, 192 granite steps and 10 landings that descend toward the port. Once a symbol of imperial ambition, they were later immortalized as a site of communist revolt in Sergei Eisenstein's film 'Battleship Potemkin.' 'Whether we like it or not, much of our city's history is tied to imperial and Soviet periods,' said Ivan Liptuga, the head of the cultural department at Odesa's City Council. 'It's impossible to erase, ignore or rewrite these facts.' Mr. Liptuga said the City Council had done its part under the decolonization law, renaming 230 streets honoring Soviet generals and Catherine the Great, the Russian empress who founded Odesa in 1794. That represents one-tenth of Odesa's streets — enough, Mr. Liptuga said with a smile, for taxi drivers to get lost. Even before the decolonization law, the city removed a statue of Catherine in late 2022. It now lies horizontally in a metal box in the courtyard of a museum. But the regional administration, which answers to the president's office, deemed the effort insufficient: It renamed 83 more streets and designated some 20 monuments for removal, including those honoring Russian-speaking literary figures like Babel and Pushkin. On a recent visit to Odesa, faint outlines of the removed Pushkin Street plaques were visible on building walls. The street has reverted to its earlier name, Italian Street, a nod to the Italian traders drawn in the 19th century to the city. Other streets were renamed after Ukrainian soldiers who died during Russia's invasion. Mr. Liptuga said he found it 'incomprehensible' to remove names that 'symbolize Odesa's literary and cultural legacy.' But Mr. Kartashov, who coordinated the regional administration's enforcement of the law, pointed to what he called 'the dark side' of Babel, including accusations that he had a role in the Soviet secret police and his praise for Soviet collectivization. 'He did so much harm to the Ukrainian state,' Mr. Kartashov said. Gregory Freidin, a Babel expert and Stanford University professor of Slavic languages and literatures, countered that the writer had condemned collectivization and that his involvement with the Soviet secret police remains unproved. Stalin's forces executed Babel on fabricated charges in 1940. Still, Mr. Kartashov said, the dominance of figures like Babel in Odesa reflected decades of Russia's efforts to maintain its cultural influence over Ukraine, while hiding the contribution of other Ukrainian artists and writers. He noted, for example, that there was no statue honoring Lesya Ukrainka, a prominent, Ukrainian-speaking poet who spent time in Odesa. 'Russia has always understood this very well,' Mr. Kartashov said. 'They marked Odesa with these monuments so that people would have the impression that the Russian version of Odesa is the right one.' Opponents of the decolonization law have appealed to UNESCO, the United Nations' cultural agency, arguing that some monuments slated for removal fall under its protection. The agency is expected to deliver its conclusions on the matter this summer. Supporters of the decolonization push in Odesa see it as a chance to finally rid the city of Russian influences. But erasing all traces of Russian heritage risks alienating Ukrainians who grew up speaking Russian and are steeped in its culture, yet remained loyal to Ukraine when Moscow's troops invaded, said Ms. Poletti, a Russian speaker and the editor of the English-language Odessa Journal. 'The Ukrainian identity is a civic one, not an ethnic one,' Ms. Poletti said. 'If you impose one ethnic model, you will create a big social conflict. I'm scared by this future.'
Irish Examiner
29-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Examiner
In profile: Donnchadh Mac Aodha, winner of the composition competition at Cork Choral Festival
When Donnchadh Mac Aodha was deciding where to pursue his musical studies, the obvious choice was Dublin, just down the road from his home in Dundalk, Co Louth. But as a traditional Irish and classical musician also interested in contemporary composition, he found the perfect fit further afield, in UCC. 'I was set on Dublin but when I looked into the course specifics, it was that blend of traditional, classical and contemporary that drew me to UCC,' he says. Mac Aodha is currently completing a degree in Irish and music at UCC, where he is a Quercus creative and performing arts scholar. Earlier this year, he was announced as winner of the prestigious Seán Ó Riada composition competition, which celebrates new works from Irish composers. His winning composition, a choral piece entitled Babel, draws on his love for traditional music and the Irish language, and was described by the judges as "captivating" with "a distinct musical identity". It will be performed by Chamber Choir Ireland at St Fin Barre's Cathedral Cork this Friday as part of the Cork International Choral Festival. The decision to study at UCC has paid off both professionally and personally. 'I wanted something that encompassed everything. I have had an absolute ball in terms of the extracurricular stuff as well," says Mac Aodha. Coralia of the University of Puerto Rico performing at last year's Cork International Choral Festival. Picture: Chani Anderson Mac Aodha, who plays tin whistle, flute, trad harp and piano, has cultivated his many talents under the guidance of lecturers including contemporary art music specialist and founding member of Crash Ensemble, John Godfrey, and traditional music scholar and concertina player, Jack Talty. His love for the Irish language is reflected in his use of a poem by Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh, from which his composition Babel takes its name. Inspiration struck, as it often does, when Mac Aodha was under creative pressure. 'Ailbhe was actually a lecturer of mine in UCC. The deadline for the composition was probably about three weeks away, and I still had no text. I whipped out some books and started going through them. I found the poem and I just emailed her asking her 'can I please use this'.' Mac Aodha grew up steeped in traditional music. His mother played flute and the family would go to the Fleadh Cheoil and various festivals and summer schools around the country. 'My dad had no choice even though he doesn't play music, although there is a lot of music on his side. 'Music in the blood with poor circulation' is always his line,' he laughs. The various cycles whereby traditional music or the Irish language are deemed to be 'cool' again leaves Mac Aodha somewhat bemused. 'Maybe in terms of outside appreciation, traditional music and the Irish language is on an upward trajectory but it's hard to say that within your own circle, because I've grown up playing traditional music since I was wee and I know so many people that play it. We've always been playing away and we don't need to be kind of rejuvenated and reinvented. I wouldn't see any people that I play with as backwards or old-style.' Outside of his studies, Mac Aodha says he has started listening to a lot of folk music. 'It's always been hard to even define what folk is in Ireland… I listen to a lot of Joshua Burnside, and Ye Vagabonds. I enjoy it, and you can pull stuff from that into your own compositions.' In his own composition Babel, the judges reflected positively on 'the (quite deliberate) absence of harmonic stability'. Mac Aodha is very aware of the balance between composing a challenging work and not alienating the listener, or the performer. "My mum is getting to grips with all this contemporary stuff, and she says, 'So is that piece going to be normal or wacky?'. At the moment, I'm treading some sort of line in between. A lot of the choral scene is amateur musicians, so if it's not enjoyable to sing, they're not going to sing it. That's the way music survives — that it is performed. With choral music, you really want to have something that draws people back to it. There's too much music in circulation for people to be working away at something that they're not enjoying for weeks on end.' Babel will be performed at St Fin Barre's Cathedral Cork as part of a concert performance by Chamber Choir Ireland this Friday, May 2, at 7.30pm. Cork International Choral Festival runs April 30 - May 4. For full details, see Cork International Choral Festival through the years* 1954: The inaugural Cork International Choral Festival is established. 1957: A 21-year-old Luciano Pavarotti gave his first Irish performance at the Cork International Choral Festival, as part of a male voice choir called Societa Corale Gioachino Rossini, from Modena in northern Italy. 1964: Introduction of the International Trophy Competition, which was later renamed the Fleischmann International Trophy Competition in honor of Aloys Fleischmann, a significant figure in the festival's history. 1959: Expansion of the festival to include a vibrant Fringe Fest, bringing choral music beyond traditional concert halls. A concert at Cork City Hall during the Choral Festival in 1955. Picture: Irish Examiner Archive 1962: The Seminar for Contemporary Music began in 1962 with the commissioning of Seán Ó'Riada, Edmond Rubbra and Darius Milhaud and over the following years commissioned multiple distinguished composers including; Flor Peeters (1963), Herbert Howells and Elizabeth Maconchy (1965), William Walton (1974), John Tavener (1990) and Mícheál O'Súilleabháin (2000). 1966: The launch of the Schools Competition, fostering a love of choral music among young singers. 1972: Introduction of the Seán Ó Riada Competition, initially designed to encourage amateur adult Irish choirs to perform original works in the Irish language. By 1976, it had evolved into a composition competition. 2000: Introduction of the Light Jazz and Popular Music Competition, which this year our most popular competition. 2010: A reimagining of the Seán Ó Riada Composition Competition, incorporating anonymous submissions to ensure unbiased judging. 2021: Despite the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic, the festival embraced virtual performances, keeping the music alive during a time of global uncertainty. 2021: The launch of the IBEC Workplace Choir of the Year, celebrating the role of music in corporate and community life. 2022: A return to live performances, reaffirming the festival's place at the heart of Cork's cultural scene. 2025: The festival's landmark 70th anniversary, set to feature a special programme of concerts, events, and tributes honouring its legacy. (*Source: Cork International Choral Festival)
