Amid the thud of artillery and rattle of gunfire, Vasyl Slipak’s deep, resonant voice in the trenches of eastern Ukraine was a warm reminder of human… - Vasyl Slipak

Because he used to sing all the time and something was to be done with this. Vasyl was already 12, and I told parents that if the boy did not study seriously, he would waste his talent. Dudaryk was a very high standard at the time. Although the brother was formally too ‘old’ to qualify, he adapted quickly and easily became part of the team. Yes. Then he became a soloist, sang in concerts, particularly, with such celebrities as Dmytro Hnatiuk, Nina Matviienko, and other stars. Choir director Mykola Katsal was doing his utmost for each of the children. The choir provided not only a musical, but also a general education, and the children received true development. Vasyl became well known still at Dudaryk after singing solo in Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana. Then was Pierrot’s Deathly Loops by Oleksandr Kozarenko. The composer had written something futuristic and could not finish his opus. But he heard Vasyl’s voice when the latter was rehearsing in the Lviv Conservatoire’s classroom. Oleksandr came in and understood that he was composing for this very singer. The premiere was staged first in Lviv and then at festivals in Kyiv and Odesa. Thereafter, no major national festivals in Ukraine were held without Vasyl.(2017)

One of the worst abominations of this filthy war is that the Russian world is losing its lumpen population, while Ukraine is forced to lose a whole cross-section of society. The «Russian World» is losing car wash cleaners. Ukraine is losing opera singers, journalists, IT specialists, businessmen… Russia is grinding up the Ukrainian gene pool. It is doing to Ukraine what it has done for centuries to itself. The surname of Slipak I have heard for the first time today, but the very fact of the loss of this life – for me this is a tragedy. Don’t ask for whom the bell tolls… This should be a separate item of charges during the Hague trial. Not just a crime against humanity. A crime against the human gene pool. Against the human race. Against culture. Against science. Against development. A crime against the planet. A crime against the future. «Irreparable damage to the future of mankind». That is how that paragraph should probably read. At such moments, I feel particularly sharp guilt for the fact that there is nothing I can do to stop this. There is no way I can affect this… I tried. I honestly did. But there are more of them. Millions. I’m sorry.

He was Energy, filled with optimism. No matter what happened, no matter how hard things got – he always smiled, joked and looked up to the sky. He kept moving forward. Two meters high, with a straight back, and always speaking the truth. He lived through what he did. He didn’t just sing – he was a hero of the stage. And he fought the same way, not talking about the war itself. He loved his friends and was fierce with his enemies. Ukraine flowed through his veins. That was his typical Galician-Slipak-Omelyan persistency – believing that he was the one who could change the world. Infinitely outgoing, he was always ready to give you everything he had without a thought. He was the type of guy that would nonchalantly come visit you for a day that would turn into a month, and then just as easily invite you over to his place for another month or two. The stage was his calling. His Hollywood. He was on that path since childhood. Dudaryk (Men’s Choir), the French Grand Prix, the Paris Opera – these aren’t just his achievements, but also, in our mind, the achievements of our family and of all of Ukraine. I can still hear his rendition of “When the two parted” while we were his guests in Sardinia. That was the last time when our big family was together. The Maidan changed him. He was always ashamed, to some extent, that he wasn’t on that smoke-filled square. He wrote, called, and actively organized help for our cause from France. After the first war, he came back a changed man. Even stronger, more persistent and more focused on the important things. He died like the true Cossack that he wanted to be – that he was – with a weapon in his hands. Fighting. There is nothing harder than burying your loved ones. I don’t know how it is up there for you, Vasya. It might have been better if you stayed at the opera, and taught everyone on Facebook how to better control the world and to overcome the Moskals. Rest in peace, Brother! Rest in peace, Wassyl Slipak!