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    Ukrainians Fill Streets With Music, Echoing Past War Zones

    When bombs began falling on the Ukrainian city of Kharkiv late last month, forcing Vera Lytovchenko to shelter in the basement of her apartment building, she took her violin with her, hoping it might bring comfort.In the weeks since, Lytovchenko, a violinist for the Kharkiv Theater of Opera and Ballet, has given impromptu concerts almost every day for a group of 11 neighbors. In the cold, cramped basement, with nothing in the way of decoration except candles and yellow tulips, she has performed Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky and Ukrainian folk songs.“My music can show that we are still human,” she said in an interview. “We need not just food or water. We need our culture. We are not like animals now. We still have our music, and we still have our hope.”As their cities have come under siege by Russian forces, Ukrainian artists have turned to music for comfort and connection, filling streets, apartment buildings and train stations with the sounds of Beethoven and Mozart.A cellist performed Bach in the center of a deserted street in Kharkiv, with the blown-out windows of the regional police headquarters behind him. A trumpeter played the Ukrainian national anthem in a subway station being used as a bomb shelter. A pianist played a Chopin étude in her apartment, surrounded by ashes and debris left by Russian shelling.Impromptu performances by ordinary citizens have been a feature of many modern conflicts, in the Balkans, Syria and elsewhere. In the social media age, they have become an important way for artists in war zones to build a sense of community and bring attention to suffering. Here are several notable examples.The Pianist of YarmoukAeham Ahmad became a YouTube star by playing piano in the ruins of a Damascus, Syria, neighborhood. This video follows his journey to Europe through a single song, starting in Syria and ending at a performance in a Berlin.Photos by Ilvy Njiokiktjien for The New York TimesAeham Ahmad gained attention in 2013 when he began posting videos showing him playing piano in the ruins of Yarmouk, a neighborhood on the outskirts of Damascus, Syria, that was gutted amid his country’s civil war. Sometimes friends and neighbors sang along. The news media began calling Ahmad the “pianist of Yarmouk.”At the time, government troops kept his neighborhood cordoned off, hitting it with artillery and sometimes airstrikes, as insurgent groups fought for control. Many people suffered from a lack of access to food and medicine; some died.“I want to give them a beautiful dream,” Ahmad told The New York Times in 2013. “To change this black color at least into gray.”Musicians have long played a role in helping people cope with the physical and psychological devastation of war.“They’re trying to recreate community, which has been fractured by war,” said Abby Anderton, an associate professor of music at Baruch College who has studied music in the aftermath of war. “People have a real desire to create normalcy, even if everything around them seems to be disintegrating.”The Cellist of SarajevoDuring the Bosnian war in 1992, Vedran Smailovic became known as the “cellist of Sarajevo” after he commemorated the dead by playing Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor every day at 4 p.m. in the ruins of a downtown square in Sarajevo. He kept playing even as 155-millimeter howitzer shells whistled down on the city.“Many, like Mr. Smailovic, who played the cello for the Sarajevo Opera, reach for an anchor amid the chaos by doing something, however small, that carries them back to the stable, reasoned life they led before,” The Times reported then.“My mother is a Muslim and my father is a Muslim, but I don’t care,” Smailovic said at the time. “I am a Sarajevan, I am a cosmopolitan, I am a pacifist.” He added: “I am nothing special, I am a musician, I am part of the town. Like everyone else, I do what I can.”A Russian Orchestra in a War ZoneThe Mariinsky Theater Orchestra of Russia held a special concert in the historic city of Palmyra, Syria.While ordinary citizens have risen to fame for wartime performances, governments have also sought to promote nationalism in wartime by staging concerts of their own.How the Ukraine War Is Affecting the Cultural WorldCard 1 of 8Olga Smirnova. More

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    Planned Before War, a Festival Embraces New Ukrainian Music

    Marked by performer absences because of the Russian invasion, the Ukrainian Contemporary Music Festival returned for its third edition.The Ukrainian Contemporary Music Festival returned for its third edition this weekend, with a slate of works related to themes of nature and mythology. During an introduction at Merkin Hall, the audience was told that while the event may have become newly relevant in recent weeks, its spirit remained unchanged. (Indeed, it was planned long before the Russian invasion.)Yet the war loomed over these performances: Some artists couldn’t leave Ukraine, and the concerts were adapted to accommodate their absences. And the festival’s very existence has always been a rejection of President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia’s assertion that there is no real Ukrainian culture.Our critics were at two of the three programs: “Forest Song” on Friday, and “Anthropocene” on Sunday.‘Forest Song’The festival’s first concert was a travelogue through the trees, fields and mountains of Ukraine: an agriculture-rich landscape that has inspired the months of the country’s calendar; been the subject of Hitler’s envy; and suffered under modern disasters like Chernobyl and the recent invasion.Some of the works were transcription-like tributes. Ivan Nebesnyy’s “Air Music 1” (2001-04), paired the vocal group Ekmeles with four flutes and Sean Statser — the evening’s busiest player, on percussion — for variations of extended technique that rendered entirely human something intangible. The percussion’s lingering final note was a reminder of how indebted music, or any sound, has always been to air.There was imitation, too, in Zoltan Almashi’s “An Echo From Hitting the Trunk of a Dry Mountain Spruce in Rycerko Gorna Village” (2015), whose prepared piano recalled the tapping of a dead tree. A slowly screeching violin was like a bending branch; the clarinet, a melancholy folk tune performed in its shadow. And Ostap Manulyak’s “Trees,” from 2012, was an arboreal examination from the ground up, with ever-higher pitches airily played by a violin and cello where their strings meet the tailpiece — and, at the top, piano tinkling like birdsong.The other two pieces were more abstract, and more haunting. Anastasia Belitska’s “Rusalochka” (2019), a purely electronic work of distorted found audio from the Chernobyl zone, recounted a traditional Mermaid’s Easter celebration as warped as the ecosystem there. Alla Zahaykevych’s “Nord/Ouest” (2010) accomplished much of the same, its search of vanishing folklore in northwestern Ukraine documented over 50 discursive minutes whose flashes of folk song — in voice and violin — felt like precious discoveries.“Nord/Ouest” normally features percussion, voices and live electronics. But, because its creators could not leave Ukraine, it was reworked on Friday for Statser, alone with his drum kit, next to a laptop carrying the sounds of his fellow performers. This spectacle, like the music’s ghostly dispatches from a fading history, spoke for itself. JOSHUA BARONESteven Beck performing Alexey Shmurak’s “Greenland,” a solo piano reflection on the climate crisis.Caitlin Ochs for The New York Times‘Anthropocene’Sunday afternoon’s program, too, was disrupted: Roman Grygoriv and Illia Razumeiko, the composers who had planned to perform their post-apocalyptic “Chornobyldorf Partita” on the second half of the concert, could not travel to New York. So they sent a 45-minute film, a selection from a seven-hour performance of “Mariupol” that they streamed on March 16 from Ivano-Frankivsk in western Ukraine, where they are sheltering.Conceived as a new part of “Chornobyldorf Partita” and named after the city currently under siege, “Mariupol” is written for dulcimer and a microtonally retuned bandura, a lutelike folk instrument. The two men sat facing each other, their instruments nearly touching, the bandura’s strings facing up like the dulcimer’s.With both instruments struck with drum sticks, the sound evolved from a rustling metallic crunch to a shimmering coppery drone to clattering, astringent industrial noise. This was defiant, ritualistic music — aggressive and forlorn, but with poignant warmth from its creation as a duo.On the first half of the program, the pianist Steven Beck played Alexey Shmurak’s “Greenland” (2020-21), a reflection on another crisis, that of the planet’s climate. In the Minimalistic first two sections, repeating figures worked through gradual but unexpected transformations, often turning — thawing — from chilly to warmly nocturnal and back again and, in the opening “Railway Étude,” taking on some of the relaxed swing of a rag. By far the longest section of this 45-minute work is the third and final one, “Icy Variations,” which stretches a Bach-style chorale theme to glacial expansiveness, wandering through subtle, organic shifts. ZACHARY WOOLFE More

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    Oxxxymiron, Russian Rapper, Brings a Banned Antiwar Message to Istanbul

    The rapper, Oxxxymiron, said proceeds from his show would go to help Ukrainian refugees. Russians at the concert denounced the war but said they felt helpless to stop it.ISTANBUL — Only a month ago it would have been an innocuous scene in Moscow: Oxxxymiron, one of Russia’s most popular rappers, performing his latest tracks onstage with a banner behind him reading: “Russians against war.”But after President Vladimir V. Putin decided to invade Ukraine, what had been typical for the rapper, known for his political sloganeering, quickly became impossible.On Tuesday, instead of playing one of a string of six long-anticipated, sold-out arena shows in Moscow and St. Petersburg, Oxxxymiron gave an antiwar concert in a packed club in Istanbul, while streaming the performance on YouTube and other platforms in the hope that people in Russia would watch and donate. He promised that all proceeds, including ticket sales, would go to help the more than three million Ukrainian refugees who have fled Russian aggression.A crowd of Russians, many of whom had left their own country over the past three weeks, fearing Mr. Putin’s tightening oppression, filled a club in Istanbul’s trendy Kadıköy district, chanting “No to war!” and “Glory to Ukraine!” — slogans that could now get them jailed at home.“Millions in Russia are against this war,” said Oxxxymiron, also known as Miron Fyodorov.“I hate feeling so powerless, but I understand well that what we are doing today is the absolute minimum,” he said during the concert. “This is important not only to Ukraine but to Russia, too, which we can lose.”Thanks to the internet, rap has become a dominant genre in Russian pop culture over the past few years, with new stars defying the government’s preferred aesthetics and values. At one point the Kremlin, worried that it might lose the loyalty of young Russians, put pressure on some of the most outspoken rap artists and shut down concerts.Outside the club before the show. Tens of thousands of Russians have moved to Istanbul since the war in Ukraine began.Sergey Ponomarev for The New York TimesOxxxymiron has been a pioneer of the movement and a symbol of the post-Soviet generation of globalized Russians. After growing up in Russia and Germany, and getting a degree at Oxford, he returned to his native St. Petersburg and quickly became an ambassador of Russian rap on the international stage.Oxxxymiron may now be seen as one of Russian rap’s old guard, but his sentiments about the war are shared by many Russian artists across genres. Many of them either started their careers in Ukraine before moving to Russia or toured actively in Ukraine, building a fan base there.After Valery Meladze, a pop singer who had regularly appeared on state-run channels, called for the war to end as soon as possible, he was quickly removed from some music channels in Russia, along with other pro-Ukrainian and Ukrainian artists.The rapper Face said he that had fled Russia and that he “practically” was no longer a Russian artist or citizen. “I don’t plan to return to Russia, to pay taxes there,” Face, also known as Ivan Dryomin, wrote on Instagram. “Our state has forced me and my loved ones to leave our house, our land.”Not all Russian rappers oppose the invasion. Timati, who has supported Mr. Putin and been praised by him, argued that the war in Ukraine “was a forced measure taken by the country’s leadership.”“I love Ukraine and the Ukrainian people,” Timati, also known as Timur Yunusov, said in a social media post. “I am very sorry that we have been pushed against each other and that we couldn’t find a compromise.”Outside the Istanbul club where Oxxxymiron performed, people said they were still digesting the shock of Russia’s attack on what many consider a “brotherly nation.” Millions of Russians have relatives in Ukraine, and many worked, studied or spent parts of their childhoods there.Antiwar slogans, like this one brandished outside the Istanbul club, can now lead to jail terms in Russia. Sergey Ponomarev for The New York Times“I feel complete powerlessness and anger for what is happening, that you cannot influence anything,” said Natalia, 32, an I.T. engineer from Belarus, who said her country was “an accomplice in this war.”“I don’t understand how anyone could support it,” said Natalia, who declined to give her last name, fearing repercussions against relatives back home.Russia-Ukraine War: Key Things to KnowCard 1 of 4Zelensky’s appeals. More

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    The Sounds of Ukrainian Pop

    Subscribe to Popcast!Apple Podcasts | Spotify | StitcherThe Russian invasion of Ukraine is entering its fourth week, upending life, damaging cities and towns and spawning a refugee crisis. Culture, needless to say, has largely come to a standstill.Pop music in Ukraine has long been a window to understanding the country. The scene is wide and varied — there is, among many other styles, the theatrical pop of Max Barskih, the indie pop of Luna, the quick-tongued rapping of Alyona Alyona and the dance-soul of Ivan Dorn. The music is bold and modern, in dialogue with the styles popular in the rest of Eastern Europe, and beyond.On this week’s Popcast, a conversation about some of the country’s pop stars, the musical traditions they borrow from and work within, and how they have grappled with the Russian invasion of Ukraine, both in music and on the internet.Guest:Liana Satenstein, senior fashion writer at VogueConnect With Popcast. Become a part of the Popcast community: Join the show’s Facebook group and Discord channel. We want to hear from you! Tune in, and tell us what you think at popcast@nytimes.com. Follow our host, Jon Caramanica, on Twitter: @joncaramanica. More

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    Ukraine’s National Anthem Reverberates Around the World

    Since Russia invaded Ukraine, the soaring melody of Ukraine’s national anthem has been heard worldwide, from antiwar protests in Moscow to the stages of major concert halls, from N.B.A. basketball arenas to TikTok posts.Known by its opening line, “Ukraine’s glory has not perished,” the anthem is being heard daily in Ukraine too, played by military bands in the middle of bomb-damaged cities, sung tearfully by women sweeping up debris in their homes and, on Saturday, in a vital open-air performance by an opera company in the port city of Odessa, despite fears of an imminent Russian bombing campaign.L’opéra d’Odessa vient de donner un concert hors les murs. FrissonsL’hymne ukrainien : pic.twitter.com/KcEYkTUpWW— Pierre Alonso (@pierre_alonso) March 12, 2022
    And on Monday night, the anthem shook the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, whose white travertine exterior was draped in an enormous Ukrainian flag and bathed in blue and yellow lights for its “Concert for Ukraine.”Alyona Alyona, one of Ukraine’s biggest rappers, said in a Skype interview from her home in Baryshivka, a town east of Kyiv, that she was hearing the anthem about “20 times a day” on Ukrainian TV, where it was being used to rally the country. She had contributed to a compilation of the country’s music stars singing it, she added. “This song has a very big meaning,” she said.Even in Russia, Ukraine’s anthem has been heard, with some antiwar protesters in Moscow having been filmed defiantly singing it while being arrested.Paul Kubicek, a political scientist at Oakland University who has written extensively about Ukraine, said the anthem was penned in the 1860s when much of what is today Ukraine was part of the Russian Empire. It was “a time of cultural awakening,” Kubicek said, with elites looking to “revive and celebrate a Ukrainian heritage that was at risk of being lost to a process of Russification.”Those elites included Pavlo Chubynsky, an ethnologist and poet, who in 1862 wrote the lyrics after being inspired by patriotic songs from Serbia and Poland. The following year, a composer and priest, Mykhailo Verbytsky, set Chubynsky’s words to music.Rory Finnin, a professor of Ukrainian studies at Cambridge University, said Chubynsky’s song was one of a host of texts that worried the Russian authorities around that time. In 1863, they began censoring almost all Ukrainian publications, Finnin said. Soon, Chubynsky was expelled from the country “for disturbing the minds” of the public, Finnin added.The Russian Empire’s efforts to quash Ukrainian identity didn’t meet with much success. After World War I, Chubynsky’s song was briefly made Ukraine’s anthem (in 1918, The New York Times published its lyrics) until the country was absorbed into the Soviet Union. The Soviet authorities later gave Ukraine a new anthem, claiming the country had “found happiness in the Soviet Union.”It was only after the Soviet Union collapsed that Chubynsky and Verbytsky’s work returned as the national anthem., and it has been a vital part of Ukrainian life ever since. In 2013 and 2014, it was sung hourly in Kyiv’s Maidan Square at protests against President Viktor F. Yanukovych’s push to make the country closer to Russia. Finnin said he was present at some of those protests and the anthem “was almost used for counting time.”Now, the anthem’s being used to inspire once more, both within the country and abroad. Below are some of the more notable international performances from the past two weeks:Emanuel Ax, Leonidas Kavakos and Yo-Yo MaTo open a recent performance at the Kennedy Center in Washington, the Greek violinist Leonidas Kavakos said he wanted to play Ukraine’s anthem as a sign of “respect and solidarity” with the country. What starts as a gentle, almost brittle, rendition, soon brings out the melody’s power.How the Ukraine War Is Affecting the Cultural WorldCard 1 of 7Olga Smirnova. More

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    A Conductor on Why He Stayed in Russia After the Invasion Began

    The Estonian American conductor Paavo Järvi chose to remain in Moscow temporarily to lead a Russian youth orchestra: “I felt a responsibility.”As the Russian military began its attack on Ukraine in late February, the Estonian American conductor Paavo Järvi was in Moscow, leading rehearsals for a long-planned engagement with a Russian youth orchestra.Järvi, who was born in 1962 in Tallinn, Estonia, then part of the Soviet Union, had a difficult decision to make. Friends urged him to cancel on the ensemble to protest the invasion. But Järvi, saying he did not want to disappoint the players of the Russian National Youth Symphony Orchestra, decided to stay in Moscow and lead the group in works by Richard Strauss on Feb. 26, two days after the invasion began, before departing on Feb. 27.Järvi’s appearance drew criticism in some corners of the music industry. The day after the concert, Järvi, the chief conductor of the Tonhalle Orchestra of Zurich and the NHK Symphony Orchestra in Tokyo, released a statement decrying the invasion and defending his decision.“These young people should not and cannot be punished for the barbaric actions of their government,” Järvi said in the statement. “I cannot turn my back on my young colleagues: Musicians are all brothers and sisters.”In an interview with The New York Times by email from Florida, Järvi reflected on his visit to Moscow, the scrutiny of Russian artists in wartime, and the future of cultural exchange between Russia and the West. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.As an artist who was born in the former Soviet Union, how do you view Putin’s invasion of Ukraine?It is hard even to find any words for what’s happening in Ukraine at the moment. It is totally barbaric, horrible, inhuman and shocking, yet ultimately unsurprising: In 1944, the Soviets did the same to Estonia, practically carpet bombing Tallinn to the ground.How does your Estonian heritage affect how you see this war?Deep suspicion and distrust (to put it mildly) of Soviets is virtually encoded in our DNA. My family left Estonia when I was 17 years old to escape the Communists. My parents and my grandparents never trusted the Soviets, but life here in the West makes you forget certain realities. Over the years, we of the younger immigrant generation have become more westernized, complacent and slowly accepting of the view that Russians have somehow changed and evolved, that they are no longer dangerous and can be treated as partners.Many of the older Estonians living abroad are still afraid to go and visit, not to mention move back to Estonia, because of their deep fear and hatred of Soviets. (I deliberately avoid using the word “Russians” because it is really the hatred of Soviets, Communists and Soviet leaders that we are referring to.)You were in Moscow just as the Russian invasion of Ukraine was getting underway. You have said you initially felt conflicted about your decision to stay to lead a concert. What was going through your mind?It has always been a part of my mission to give back to the next generation of musicians, which is why I regularly conduct youth orchestras. That was the reason I was in Moscow, but had the war already started, I would obviously not have traveled there.Everyone was already incredibly nervous and tense at the beginning of the week, and when it actually happened, there was complete shock.Why not cancel and leave, as some of your friends urged?I felt a responsibility. I could not turn my back on these young musicians at such a difficult and confusing time. I wanted for them to experience something meaningful. Something that could sustain them during the time of isolation and blockade that clearly was going to be imposed on them for a very long time, maybe decades.The concert was played in a spirit of defiance of the invasion and solidarity with the young musicians, and in deep solidarity and support of the Ukrainian people.Will you return to Russia to conduct while the invasion continues?I will definitely not return to Russia while the war is ongoing, and I find it very difficult to imagine returning even after the war is over, because long after it has finished, the human suffering, wounds, hatred and misery of ordinary people everywhere will continue for generations.What sort of engagement do you think artists in the West should have with Russia in light of the ongoing war? Is it necessary to isolate Moscow culturally, or should there be a free exchange of the arts?Artists outside of Russia should not be interacting with Russia at all so long as the war continues and innocent people are being bombed and dying.How do you think this war will affect the arts in Russia and Ukraine?The impact to Russian artists is going to be devastating. There will be a boycott for a very long time as a new Iron Curtain will be in effect. In the worst case scenario, there is probably going to be the old Soviet model that will be reinstituted. On every level — and culturally, of course, including music — life will be isolated from the West, similar to the former Soviet years.How the Ukraine War Is Affecting the Cultural WorldCard 1 of 6Paavo Järvi. More

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    Stars Show Support for Ukraine at Critics Choice Awards

    Most of the Critics Choice ceremony has been focused on prizes, but the war in Ukraine has been addressed in a few ways.Most notably, the Oscar-nominated actress Maria Bakalova, known for her breakout role as Tutar Sagdiyev in “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm,” took time on Sunday night — before announcing the best supporting actor award — to recognize the people of Ukraine.“I’m from Bulgaria, and my home city’s just a few hundred miles away from Ukraine,” Bakalova said. “So as we gather together on this special night, I want to take a moment to acknowledge the bravery of the people of Ukraine who are defending their right to independence and democracy.“I truly hope that we will come together and usher in a new era of cultural and artistic exchange between Eastern Europe and Hollywood, which has been a foundational force of creativity in the 20th century,” she continued. “So I hope my message goes to the Ukrainian people: We see you. We stand with you. And our hearts are with you.”Bakalova is from Burgas, the fourth-largest city in Bulgaria, which sits less than 750 miles from Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine. Earlier on Sunday, Russia launched airstrikes against a military base in western Ukraine, bringing the war 11 miles from the border with Poland.Billy Crystal, the recipient of a lifetime achievement award, also brought up his roots in the region, explaining that his grandmothers were from Odessa and Kyiv and fled to the United States to escape pogroms. When he was growing up in Long Island, “their laughter — the first laughs I ever got in my life — is the fuel that my engine is still burning today,” he said, and added, “I pray that somehow, some way, there can be laughter and joy in that part of the world once again.”The “Ted Lasso” star Hannah Waddingham, accepting best comedy series on behalf of the cast, spoke of “the babies in the Ukraine that are being utterly decimated at the moment from this putrid, putrid torrent of abuse. Please, think of them as much as you can, and give as much as you can.”Before presenting the biggest award of the night, best picture, the Los Angeles Rams head coach Sean McVay handed the mic to his fiancée, a Realtor, Veronika Khomyn, who is from Ukraine. “I proudly stand with my fellow Ukrainians and I admire their strength,” she told the crowd. “They have faced unimaginable adversity with such profound grace and bravery. Their fight and the way they have united the world is truly inspiring. There is no place in our world for this kind of violence, and our prayers go out to all the lives that have been lost.”There were also a handful of performers — including Jeremy Strong of “Succession” and the “White Lotus” actor Murray Bartlett — bearing blue-and-yellow pins, mirroring the national colors of Ukraine. More

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    On a Stage 5,000 Miles Away, He Sings for His Family in Ukraine

    At the Metropolitan Opera, the bass-baritone Vladyslav Buialskyi has become a symbol of his country’s struggles.Sometimes lately, when he hasn’t been rehearsing Verdi or Tchaikovsky at the Metropolitan Opera, or practicing Italian with a diction coach on Zoom, the bass-baritone Vladyslav Buialskyi takes out his phone and sends a one-word text message: “Mama.”The message is meant for Buialskyi’s mother, who is more than 5,000 miles away in his hometown, Berdyansk, a small port city in Ukraine that has been under siege since the Russian invasion began last month. His mother has been unable to flee because she is caring for his grandmother, who is 88 and has difficulty walking. Anxious about his mother’s safety, Buialskyi sends her messages around the clock, awaiting the replies that confirm she remains safe and reachable.“It’s a huge nightmare,” said Buialskyi, 24, who is enrolled in the Met’s prestigious young artists program. “You wake up each day hoping it’s not real, but it’s still happening.”Since the start of the invasion, Buialskyi has become a symbol at the Met of his country’s struggles. On Monday, when the Met hosts a concert in support of Ukraine, he will be featured in a rendition of its national anthem. He played a similar role last month, at the outset of the invasion, when the chorus and orchestra performed the anthem before a performance of Verdi’s “Don Carlos.” Buialskyi — who was making his debut with the company in a small role that evening — stood center stage, his hand over his heart. Ukrainian news outlets later aired clips of the performance.Buialskyi, center, singing the Ukrainian national anthem with the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and chorus on Feb. 28.Jonathan Tichler/Metropolitan Opera, via Associated Press“It was incredibly moving, because you could see how much it meant to him,” said Peter Gelb, the Met’s general manager. “The fact that it was such an emotional experience for him made it even more emotional for me and the other members of the company.”Gelb said he hoped the performance of the anthem on Monday would “show the world and our audiences that we are in solidarity with Ukraine.”Buialskyi said he was uneasy about the attention. But he said he wants to use his platform to help his friends and family back home.“I hope it inspires people not to give up,” he said. “Even though I’m far away, I want to be doing what I can.”Buialskyi grew up in eastern Ukraine, along the Sea of Azov, in a city known for its beaches and its port, a hub for coal and grain exports. The only child of an accountant and a driver, he showed an early interest in singing. As a two-year-old, he mimicked jingles on television and sang Ukrainian folk songs.His mother initially had visions of sending him to a college specializing in automotive studies, worried about the career prospects for an artist. But she soon recognized his gift, and at 17 he began conservatory studies, practicing standards of the repertoire like “Largo al factotum,” from Rossini’s “The Barber of Seville.” His idol was Muslim Magomayev, a pop and classical singer from Azerbaijan.He came to the Met in 2020 as part of its Lindemann Young Artist Development Program. The program’s participants take up tiny parts in Met productions, and this season Buialskyi is playing the role of a Flemish deputy in “Don Carlos” and a captain in Tchaikovsky’s “Eugene Onegin.”Buialskyi rehearsing “Eugene Onegin” at the Metropolitan Opera.Vincent Tullo for The New York TimesOne evening last month, on his way back to his apartment in Washington Heights after finishing up meetings at the Met, he got a call from his mother, who said she was hearing explosions. He checked news sites and soon realized that Moscow had begun invading Ukraine. Berdyansk is near the Russian border and was one of the first cities to be seized by Russian forces. Some citizens tried to resist the invasion by singing the Ukrainian national anthem, according to news reports.“I was just so scared,” Buialskyi said. “People who are not there right now still can’t believe that war is actually happening in our day and age.”His Met colleagues have rallied behind him, asking for updates on his family and donating to a crowdfunding effort he started to support Ukrainian families and soldiers. Russian artists at the Met have also reached out, he said, checking on his family’s safety.Melissa Wegner, the executive director of the Lindemann program, said she had been impressed with Buialskyi’s resolve in the face of trying circumstances.How the Ukraine War Is Affecting the Cultural WorldCard 1 of 5Anna Netrebko. More