Last Sunday night, on the eve of the third anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Kyiv Mozart Orchestra was putting on a special performance. It had come to a hotel ballroom on the west bank of the semi-frozen Dnipro river to play a haunting series of pieces by Ukrainian composers. Hundreds of Kyivans, many in evening gowns and formal attire, had defied the minus 10 degrees on the capital’s streets to attend. For a magical hour they escaped into another world.
Among the audience were soldiers and their families. Many others were thought to be watching on the frontline via smartphone. “They say it’s like therapy,” the compere, Lada Tesfaye, observes as the young musicians take their bow. Kyiv is about 400 miles from the frontline, but there was little lingering beyond the encore. An hour and a half later the air-raid siren resounded through the empty streets. Soon after came the “thud” of air defences as the first of that night’s Russian drones came into range.
It is a reflection both of humanity’s remarkable ability to adapt, but also of Ukrainians’ steely resolve, that most Kyivans treat the nightly attacks as a mere disruption to a good night’s sleep. Some even stay up, listen to the hum of the drones and watch the sound and light show as they are targeted by small arms or old Soviet anti-aircraft batteries. The night before the concert saw the most intense drone attack of the war — more than 260 across Ukraine.