Vladimir Vysotsky

Vladimir Semyonovich Vysotsky (; 25 January 1938 – 25 July 1980) was a Soviet singer-songwriter, poet, and actor who had an immense and enduring effect on Soviet culture. He became widely known for his unique singing style and for his lyrics, which featured social and political commentary in often-humorous street jargon. He was also a prominent stage- and screen-actor. Though the official Soviet cultural establishment largely ignored his work, he was remarkably popular during his lifetime and has exerted significant influence on many of Russia's musicians and actors. Early life Vysotsky was born on January 25, 1938, at the 3rd Meshchanskaya Street (61/2) maternity hospital in Moscow. His father was Semyon Vladimirovich (Volfovich) Vysotsky, a Jewish man who came originally from Kyiv. His mother, Nina Maksimovna Vysotsky (née Seryogina), was Russian, and worked as a German translator. The family lived in a communal flat at No. 126, 1st Meshchanskaya Street, and had serious financial difficulties. When Vladimir was only old, Nina had to return to her job at the Transcript Bureau of the Soviet Ministry of Geodesy and Cartography (engaged in making German maps available to the Soviet military) to help earn a living. Vladimir's theatrical inclinations became obvious at an early age, and were supported by his mother, herself a great fan of theatre. Vysotsky later recalled: "I didn't have anyone in my family who was an actor or a director [...] nobody who was in the arts. But my mother really loved theatre, and every Saturday—from the very earliest age until I was about thirteen or fourteen—she would take me to the theatre. And that probably stuck." His paternal grandmother Dora Bronshteyn also supported his interests. The boy used to recite poems, standing on a chair and "flinging hair backwards, like a real poet," and often used expressions he could hardly have heard at home. Once, at the age of two, when he had tired of the family's guests' poetry requests, he, according to his mother, sat himself under the New Year tree with a frustrated air about him and sighed: "You freeloaders, let the child rest!" His sense of humor was extraordinary, but often baffling for people around him. At three years old he would jeer at his father while the latter was in the bathroom, breaking out unexpected poetic improvisation ("Take a look what’s happening here! / Our goat’s decided to shave!") or appall unwanted guests with street folk songs.