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Masguda Shamsutdinova: My life is built on principles
Albina: Masguda Islamovna, the discussion about a woman’s place in the home and society is probably always relevant...
Maqsguda: We live in a very interesting time when the boundaries between genders are blurring. When physical strength was needed, men carried everything on their shoulders: they brought home the mammoth, plowed the fields, and fought in wars. Now, territories are conquered more through diplomacy. There’s no need to hunt mammoths anymore. The time has come not for physical strength but for intellect. It’s become easier for women to balance home and career. Technological innovations work in our favor, as men have freed us from heavy physical labor (to their own detriment). It’s now easier for a woman to break through and succeed in any field, using the qualities given by nature, like intuition and emotionality.
Albina: Speaking of life in the USA, what features stand out to you? What did you adapt to quickly, and what can you still not get used to?
Masguda: I think America is more motivated toward a high-quality life. Smart people get financial opportunities to use their talents for the benefit of the country. In the USA, they want everyone to work and work well. The country’s well-being depends on each individual, not society as a whole. Americans are extremely active. They’re always voting on something: whether to turn a street left or right, whether to give money to a company or not. They’re constantly running around, trying to convince others of their point of view. A small, seemingly insignificant issue can be escalated to the Senate. Everyone believes they can change the world, and I like that. What I can’t get used to is that lunch and dinner are often eaten at restaurants. When I tell friends I prefer cooking at home, they usually say, “Why bother buying groceries, cooking, and then washing dishes?” Americans eat out a lot, which I don’t approve of. I try to compromise. For example, after visiting an Ethiopian restaurant, if we liked a dish, I suggest cooking it at home to see if it turns out better or worse. My friends have started to enjoy this. They find interest in everything, especially if it involves a challenge or competition. When you tell Americans that Russians were the first in space, it’s a headache for them. You can even lose friends if you carelessly start debating who’s better, smarter, or more cunning. I remember a debate about whose hackers are more talented. I brought a computer program I bought in Kazan at a shopping center and mentioned its price. My acquaintances were shocked because I got it for five dollars, while they pay 500 dollars for similar software. But then they checked the program for viruses and found a Trojan horse. When they explained what it was, I got nervous. I could have lost years of work, and it would have cost far more than 500 dollars.
Albina: What attracted you to Seattle specifically?
Masguda: I love this city, which is called the Emerald City. I even named part of my oratorio, Tragedy of the Sons of the Earth, which will be performed on April 19, 2012, at the Kazan Concert Hall, “The Creation of the Whisper of the Emerald Deer Dancing on the Roof of the World.” The nature here blooms year-round, which amazes me. When my younger son Nadir (an aerospace engine engineer) said he’d buy me a house in Los Angeles, I thought, how could I trade this stunning beauty for a megacity? From my window, I see Mount Rainier, which touches the sky, and it could erupt at any moment. I love that constant sense of thrill. Mount Rainier, at 4,392 meters, is 616 meters taller than Japan’s famous Mount Fuji! At its peak is the largest glacial system in the USA. Rainier National Park is the fifth national park in the country, with majestic waterfalls, mountain gorges, lush forests, snow-white and blue glaciers, mountain streams, and clear lakes. In short, Seattle is incredible nature, like paradise, close to Canada, two hours from the Pacific Ocean, with mountains and volcanoes. The Pacific Ocean bay laps at the feet of the building where I rent a studio apartment (a one-room apartment by Russian standards). I always rush back to this city. I can’t imagine writing an oratorio based on Hadi Taktash anywhere but Seattle. If Taktash were here, I’m sure he would have written so much more!
Albina: You must actively interact with the American Tatar community. Who is closest to you in this circle, and how would you describe these people?
Masguda: During the collapse of the USSR, many Tatars from former Soviet republics moved to America. From Bashkortostan and Tatarstan, people here are mostly random, but from other CIS countries, they’re Tatars who deliberately chose America over Russia. They’re all successful in their fields, the American-Tatar elite. Many are physicists, mathematicians, and scientists in various fields. Most Tatars in the USA are those whose parents lived in Japan, China, or Turkey before emigrating here. But when I sang them lullabies, songs about love, life, and death, recited the great poet Tukay’s verses, which we all love, and told them about a homeland many have never seen, believe me, the century-long fog that separated us vanished. We became children of one nation again.
Albina: You learned English so well that you started giving University lectures on Tatar music and opened an online Tatar music radio. Please tell us, how hard was it to learn the language in the USA without much prior preparation in Tatarstan?
Masguda: Learning a foreign language is always hard. When I moved from a Tatar village to Karaganda at eleven, it was a disaster. I spoke Tatar with relatives (they had moved to work in Karaganda’s mines), but Russian-speaking kids didn’t accept me. I still remember the alienation and humiliation from peers who knew the language of the “big brother.” I wasn’t alone—Germans, Koreans, and Kazakhs were also mocked. Kazakhstan was a great “melting pot” of peoples. My mom taught me two words: ulitsa (street) and kuritsa (chicken), because they rhymed, and that was it. Russian words felt like a magical code to an unknown world. Without knowing the language, I had to prove myself in music, math, physics, and chemistry, where I was very strong. Somehow, a creative mind always finds a way to express itself, and if it doesn’t, it turns to bad habits. That’s why kids should always be given something to channel their natural creative abilities. Learning English was psychologically easier, despite people saying you can’t learn a language at my age (I was almost 50). But that’s nonsense—I learned it well enough to teach at a university. Now I’m surprised when I translate for compatriots who’ve lived here for 10, 20, or 30 years, and their English is still at the level of “street and chicken.” I now absorb English, soaking it up.
Albina: Don’t you think that to promote the national culture of a country’s peoples, including Tatar culture, some experimentation is needed? Music aimed only at one nation has limited potential for development and global reach...
Masguda: I disagree. This music will never disappear; it’s like the taste of real food—humanity will always seek it out. At Kazan’s first international contemporary music festival “CONCORDIA,” I listened to Elena Anisimova. Though Russian, she captured something elusive and stunningly beautiful in an Udmurt melody, something even Udmurts might not have noticed. I’m saying that music with national motifs has its own life and doesn’t need promotion. It should be studied professionally, like a rare flower listed in the Red Book, not dragged through snobbish corridors. My music isn’t cosmopolitan. It expresses my essence, and I am a child of the Tatar people. I see the world in the same colors, breathe the same scents, and know what makes my people laugh and cry. I’m not fooled by the interest in me in some European countries. I know it’s not just about me but about my nation and its culture. Since my music sparked this interest, it must carry some of my mentality.
Albina: You collect lullabies from peoples around the world. How many have you gathered so far? When did the idea for this fascinating project start, and how’s it going?
Masguda: Lullabies are like my breath. I never set out to start or finish a project—they’re always with me. I can’t keep track of how many I have; there are so many. They’re the most precious and intimate things I collect bit by bit from peoples of Russia, Ecuador, Ethiopia, Ukraine, Bangladesh, Tunisia, Somalia, Vietnam, India, Palestine, and other countries. When I visit my sister in Perm Krai’s Oktyabrsk, she pulls out Mom’s frying pan. My younger sister Zalifa in Ufa keeps Mom’s patched-up robes from wartime. I have Mom’s dresses from those times. Owning such tangible memories brings immense joy. Lullabies are like that—the spiritual memory of any nation, untouched by decay. An Arab mother sings, “Sleep, child, when you sleep, you’ll forget you’re hungry.” A Greek mother promises, “Sleep, and I’ll give you Constantinople.” A Tatar mother soothes, “Sleep, and in your dreams, Mommy will give you a star.” I dream of creating a “Cradles of the World” museum in Kazan, using cutting-edge technology so it can transform into a concert hall, cozy exhibition spaces, or a modern conference room.
Albina: Have you ever had to compromise your principles in life?
Masguda: I’ve never betrayed my principles; they’ve only grown stronger over time. Life is built on them, instilled and reinforced since childhood. The most important thing for me is to avoid causing pain to anyone or anything. I even feel pain when fresh air is polluted or water is contaminated. It’s hard to put into words.
Albina: Who or what do you rely on in life?
Masguda: I rely on myself first, my healthy genetics, my principles, my sons, music, and my people. Knowing my people love me gives me strength and comfort in any situation.
Albina: Thank you for the fascinating conversation, Masguda Islamovna! Wishing you creative success!
Background: Honored Artist of the Republic of Tatarstan and PhD in Philosophy, Masguda Shamsutdinova was born in Bashkiria. She studied at a special school for musically gifted children in Kazakhstan and graduated from Kazan Conservatory under Professor A.B. Luppov’s composition class. She worked as head of the music department at Kazan Puppet Theater, music broadcast editor at Kazan TV Studio, and head of the folklore laboratory at Kazan Conservatory. She spent years on folklore expeditions. She has won awards and special prizes for her music in films and plays. Her works include instrumental and choral pieces across genres—songs, oratorios, ballets, and symphonies. In 2001, she defended her dissertation on “Mawlid Bayram among Muslims of the Middle Volga.” In 2002, she moved to the USA and launched the online radio www.tatarica.com, broadcasting Turkic folklore and works by Tatar composers 24/7.
Interviewed by Albina Sultan
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