By Andrew Higgins and Jenny Gross
Dissatisfied with the alternative to Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker,” a mother and her young daughter exited at the intermission, expressing their discontent with the opera house’s choice to exclude the Russian composer’s festive classic.
“The ‘Nutcracker’ is superior in every way — the music, the choreography, the narrative,” Egle Brediene, 38, stated while leaving the Lithuanian National Opera and Ballet Theater recently after the first act of a substituted ballet by an Italian composer.
Lithuania, a steadfast advocate for Ukraine in its battle against Russia, set aside Tchaikovsky and the beloved holiday piece two years prior, declaring a “mental quarantine” from Russian culture to show solidarity against the aggressor.
This decision initially led to some dissatisfaction among theatergoers, but their frustration had mostly subsided until a new government took the helm in Lithuania this month. The recently appointed culture minister expressed his fondness for Tchaikovsky in a radio conversation, asserting that there was no need to be “afraid that after viewing a holiday tale we will become pro-Kremlin.”
His comments sparked outrage among staunch Ukrainian supporters while drawing appreciation from Russian music enthusiasts, igniting a divisive discussion primarily along generational lines about the intersection of culture and politics in wartime.
Many in the arts community oppose the prohibition of works based on their national origin, believing that culture has the potential to unite and should remain untouched by political influences.
Darius Kuolys, a veteran of Lithuania’s efforts to liberate itself from the Soviet Union and the first culture minister following the 1990 independence declaration, remarked that the Kremlin frequently manipulates culture for political purposes. However, he noted, “It never occurred to me as a minister to instruct people on what to see or hear.”
Even during the violent crackdown by Soviet forces in Vilnius in January 1991, Kuolys did not suspend performances of “The Nutcracker” or attempt to cancel Igor Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring.”
“We fought against Soviet power to gain the freedom to not impose bans,” stated Kuolys, 62, who is now a professor of Lithuanian literature at Vilnius University.
He further explained that Lithuania’s culture is so intricately linked with Russia (noting that Stravinsky’s lineage can be traced back to the region) that excluding Russian artists and their creations would result in “great harm to ourselves.”
Simonas Kairys, the culture minister who advocated for the 2022 quarantine against Russian influence in music, claimed that he never instituted outright bans but merely provided “recommendations” to the national opera house and other state-supported institutions, which subsequently removed “The Nutcracker” and other Russian pieces.
“They had the option — no directive came from me,” Kairys, 40, clarified. “They simply understood the context.” He continued: “When at war, choosing the right side is imperative. There is no neutral ground.”
During World War II, the National Gallery in Britain hosted a series of concerts featuring German composers such as Ludwig van Beethoven. The gallery’s director at the time explained that the initiative was to illustrate that Britain was at war with Adolf Hitler and the Nazis, not with Germany itself or its culture.
Nonetheless, fears surrounding Russia and anger over its invasion of Ukraine have caused many in Lithuania and other nations with a tumultuous history of Russian occupation to question whether culture can be disentangled from political matters.
“In Russia, it has always intertwined,” remarked Arunas Gelunas, director of the Lithuanian National Museum of Art and a supporter of suspending shows and exhibitions featuring Russian artists. “The Kremlin has historically exploited classical culture to divert global attention from its current atrocities.”
He noted that Russia has cultivated an image of itself as the zenith of sophisticated culture, an impression that remains firmly rooted in the Western world.
“At present, while Ukrainians continue to suffer, I’d prefer not to attend a performance of ‘The Nutcracker’ in the opera or elsewhere,” Gelunas said, having traveled to Ukraine to help evacuate 800 pieces of art from museums back to Lithuania.
Ukrainian officials and advocates seeking to “decolonize” culture share that perspective, urging the ban of Russian performers, filmmakers, and other artists from the West regardless of their political inclinations. Some believe all Russians and their cultural heritages are irrevocably tainted by imperial ideologies, a viewpoint heavily shaped by postcolonial studies within American academia.
For enthusiasts of “The Nutcracker,” a cherished element of Lithuania’s Christmas tradition for decades, Tchaikovsky — who lived from 1840 to 1893 — is not connected to the Kremlin or Russian crimes against Ukraine and should not be subjected to what they perceive as politicians’ virtue signaling.
Tchaikovsky, remarked Tatiana Kuznetsova, 67, whose father was Ukrainian and mother Russian, “is a global figure, not solely Russian.” While waiting to enter the Vilnius opera house recently, she fondly remembered taking her children and grandchildren to see “The Nutcracker” at Christmas before its removal.
“It is a timeless classic,” she asserted. “I cherish Lithuania as a patriot, but the realms of art and sport ought to remain separate from politics.”
Brediene, who exited the replacement production at intermission, reflected that the alternate ballet, “Les Millions d’Arlequin,” with music by Riccardo Drigo, an obscure Italian composer, featured intriguing costumes. However, she felt it significantly lacked in comparison to her experiences watching “The Nutcracker.”
Russian composers have also encountered pushback at the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theater, which excluded works by Russian composers from its performances during a 2023 international piano and organ competition.
The academy’s director, Judita Zukiene, stated that she did not prohibit students from studying Russian compositions, but emphasized that Russian classical music must be approached with care, as it “is meaningful and influential, which means it can be — and has been — repurposed for propaganda.”
Audrius Kundrotas, the deputy marketing manager for Lithuania’s opera house, acknowledged that audiences might prefer “The Nutcracker” over its less-known alternative. “They are incomparable,” he admitted. “It’s enjoyable but dissimilar.”
Kundrotas mentioned that “The Nutcracker” could be reinstated after the war concludes, but until then, there are no plans to showcase Tchaikovsky’s ballets.
“It’s perhaps painful not to present this performance,” he indicated, “but our stance is firmly established.”
