Difference between revisions of "Magnitizdat (USSR)"

[[File:Magnitizdat.jpg|400px|thumb|left|Homemade tape-recording unit "Voice" (MAG-59M), which belonged to M. B. Krizhanovsky, a Soviet engineer known for his underground recordings.]]

[[File:Magnitizdat.jpg|400px|thumb|left|Homemade tape-recording unit "Voice" (MAG-59M), which belonged to M. B. Krizhanovsky, a Soviet engineer known for his underground recordings.]]

Regarding the reproduction of imported western music, experts point out financial advantages of the re-recording practices. Vinyl recordings were extremely expensive and the further one went away from Moscow, the more expensive the discs became to consumers. Indeed, a vinyl in the Urals could cost around 200 roubles, which can be contextualised to an engineer’s monthly wage of 120 to 150 roubles a month (Aksenov 2012<ref>Aksenov, Pavel, Beatles for Sale: The Vinyl Underground in the USSR (Moscow: BBC Russian Service, 5th October 2012), Accessed Online: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-19827438 (14/08/2015).</ref>). In this respect, tape recordings often appeared to fill a gap in the market for affordable and accessible music. The Russian journalist Andrei Logutkov indicated that he bought a tape recording of a Beatles’ track (Sgt. Pepper) in the Russian city of Orlov, from a friend for just 60 kopecks (Ibid.). In the same way, music critic Artemy Troitsky wrote that a ‘tape recording of an LP cost three roubles, while the album itself would fetch 20 or 30 roubles’ (Troitsky 1987: 25<ref>Troitsky, Aretemy. 1987. Back in the USSR: The True Story of Rock in Russia. London: Faber and Faber.</ref>). It is clear that the economic advantage to cassette re-recording was that popular music could be distributed to a wider and less-affluent audience, something which perhaps resonated with a socialist mentality to sharing and subverting private property rights.

Regarding the reproduction of imported western music, experts point out financial advantages of the re-recording practices. Vinyl recordings were extremely expensive and the further one went away from Moscow, the more expensive the discs became to consumers. Indeed, a vinyl in the Urals could cost around 200 roubles, which can be contextualised to an engineer’s monthly wage of 120 to 150 roubles a month (Aksenov 2012<ref>Aksenov, Pavel, Beatles for Sale: The Vinyl Underground in the USSR (Moscow: BBC Russian Service, 5th October 2012), Accessed Online: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-19827438 (14/08/2015).</ref>). In this respect, tape recordings often appeared to fill a gap in the market for affordable and accessible music. The Russian journalist Andrei Logutkov indicated that he bought a tape recording of a Beatles’ track (Sgt. Pepper) in the Russian city of Orlov, from a friend for just 60 kopecks (Ibid.). In the same way, music critic Artemy Troitsky wrote that a ‘tape recording of an LP cost three roubles, while the album itself would fetch 20 or 30 roubles’ (Troitsky 1987: 25<ref>Troitsky, Aretemy. 1987. Back in the USSR: The True Story of Rock in Russia. London: Faber and Faber.</ref>). It is clear that the economic advantage to cassette re-recording was that popular music could be distributed to a wider and less-affluent audience, something which perhaps resonated with a socialist mentality to sharing and subverting private property rights.

''Magnitizdat'' was similarly highly evasive. The Soviet press attacked the cassette tape recordings for, as quoted in the newspaper ''Sovetskaya Rossia'' on 9 June 1968, ‘spreading faster than a flu virus,’ (Ryback 1990: 46<ref>Ryback, Timothy W. 1990. Rock around the Block: A History of Rock Music in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. Oxford: Oxford University Press.</ref>). Buying, selling or owning unofficial music tapes still carried up to a three year prison sentence (Sargent 2015<ref>Sargent, Hale, Refrains of Dissent, Accessed Online:  http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/stalin/d1.html (14/08/2015).</ref>). The Soviet militia (police) attempted to wage war against the ''fatsovshchiki'', but their attempts were futile as countless numbers continued to 'ply the trade’ (Ryback 1990: 109-110<ref>Ryback, Timothy W. 1990. Rock around the Block: A History of Rock Music in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. Oxford: Oxford University Press.</ref>). One Soviet musicologist, Vladimir Frumkin, on 20 March 1974 attempted to fly from Leningrad to the United States with a selection of cassette tape recordings of his bard-friend Bulat Okudzhava. The tapes were ‘verified’ by Soviet customs officials and then handed back to him, but upon arriving in the United States Frumkin discovered that his magnetic-tape recordings had been all ‘demagnetised’ (Daughtry 2006: 2<ref>Daughtry, Martin J. 2006. Magnitizdat as Cultural Practice prepared for the University of Pennsylvania conference – ‘Samizdat and Underground Culture in the Soviet Bloc Countries’ (7 April).</ref>). Although these recordings had been erased, they were probably not fully checked; it was often the case that ''avtorskaia pesnia'' could be secreted amongst ‘other less provocative songs’ (Sargent 2015<ref>Sargent, Hale, Refrains of Dissent, Accessed Online:  http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/stalin/d1.html (14/08/2015).</ref>). Despite such efforts of containment by the authorities, thousands of recordings were already in unofficial circulation, locked into personal and private distribution networks.

''Magnitizdat'' was similarly highly evasive. The Soviet press attacked the cassette tape recordings for, as quoted in the newspaper ''Sovetskaya Rossia'' on 9 June 1968, ‘spreading faster than a flu virus,’ (Ryback 1990: 46<ref>Ryback, Timothy W. 1990. Rock around the Block: A History of Rock Music in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. Oxford: Oxford University Press.</ref>). Buying, selling or owning unofficial music tapes still carried up to a three year prison sentence (Sargent 2015<ref>Sargent, Hale, Refrains of Dissent, Accessed Online:  http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/stalin/d1.html (14/08/2015).</ref>). The Soviet militia (police) attempted to wage war against the ''fatsovshchiki'', but their attempts were futile as countless numbers continued to 'ply the trade’ (Ryback 1990: 109-110<ref>Ryback, Timothy W. 1990. Rock around the Block: A History of Rock Music in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. Oxford: Oxford University Press.</ref>). One Soviet musicologist, Vladimir Frumkin, on 20 March 1974 attempted to fly from Leningrad to the United States with a selection of cassette tape recordings of his bard-friend Bulat Okudzhava. The tapes were ‘verified’ by Soviet customs officials and then handed back to him, but upon arriving in the United States Frumkin discovered that his magnetic-tape recordings had been all ‘demagnetised’ (Daughtry 2006: 2<ref>Daughtry, Martin J. 2006. Magnitizdat as Cultural Practice prepared for the University of Pennsylvania conference – ‘Samizdat and Underground Culture in the Soviet Bloc Countries’ (7 April).</ref>). Although these recordings had been erased, they were probably not fully checked; it was often the case that ''avtorskaia pesnia'' could be secreted amongst ‘other less provocative songs’ (Sargent 2015<ref>Sargent, Hale, Refrains of Dissent, Accessed Online:  http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/stalin/d1.html (14/08/2015).</ref>). Despite such efforts of containment by the authorities, thousands of recordings were already in unofficial circulation, locked into personal and private distribution networks.

As a phenomenon, ''Magnitizdat'' shares many qualities with ''Roentgenizdat'', primarily as both practices helped surpass the state-authorised music distribution channels. The core difference was that while ''Roentgenizdat'' was a cheap imitation of vinyl disks in short supply, ''Magnitizdat'' used authentically produced magnetic tapes which eventually made x-ray disks technologically redundant (cassette tapes had a longer duration and better audio quality). These authentically produced tapes and tape recorders were also permitted in every household, compared to the strictly illegal paper copying devices of ''Samizdat'', and therefore came with less risk of being arrested. The ‘Frumkin’ case, for example, indeed highlights the ‘difference in the regime’s attitudes towards ''magnitizdat'' and ''samizdat''’.<ref>Daughtry, Magnitizdat as Cultural Practice, p. 3</ref> The fact that Frumkin had considered it a worthwhile attempt to emigrate with several ‘''magnitizdat''’ tapes – something unthinkable with the forbidden works of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn – is testament to the ambiguity of policy around cassette tapes. Nevertheless, just like ''Roentgenizdat'' became the medium for unofficial jazz music, ''Magnitizdat'' became the medium for unofficial ''avtorskaia pesnia'' and later rock music, helping return artistic choice and freedom to the masses by breaking the Soviet government’s monopoly on information.

As a phenomenon, ''Magnitizdat'' shares many qualities with ''Roentgenizdat'', primarily as both practices helped surpass the state-authorised music distribution channels. The core difference was that while ''Roentgenizdat'' was a cheap imitation of vinyl disks in short supply, ''Magnitizdat'' used authentically produced magnetic tapes which eventually made x-ray disks technologically redundant (cassette tapes had a longer duration and better audio quality). These authentically produced tapes and tape recorders were also permitted in every household, compared to the strictly illegal paper copying devices of ''Samizdat'', and therefore came with less risk of being arrested. The ‘Frumkin’ case, for example, indeed highlights the ‘difference in the regime’s attitudes towards ''magnitizdat'' and ''samizdat''’.<ref>Daughtry, Magnitizdat as Cultural Practice, p. 3</ref> The fact that Frumkin had considered it a worthwhile attempt to emigrate with several ‘''magnitizdat''’ tapes – something unthinkable with the forbidden works of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn – is testament to the ambiguity of policy around cassette tapes. Nevertheless, just like ''Roentgenizdat'' became the medium for unofficial jazz music, ''Magnitizdat'' became the medium for unofficial ''avtorskaia pesnia'' and later rock music, helping return artistic choice and freedom to the masses by breaking the Soviet government’s monopoly on information.