His songs come from car receivers. His voice is known in all subjects of the Russian Federation. The boys, who first tried alcohol, dissolve their snot and listen to Ivan Kuchin’s performance with a tear - they have a hard way ahead in shipping and areas. Mature people who have already "unwound" their terms, lament that they could not resist the temptations and frivolously carried away by thieves romance. Over the past twenty years, thieves' songs have almost replaced truly popular tunes from the air.
Born in the "steppes of Transbaikalia"
In the current socio-political situation, it is very difficult for young people to chart a route through life. Not so long ago, in Soviet times, they were offered a wide road and real opportunities for the realization of their inclinations and talents. Today, a young man projecting his future has one way - to make money. Love, conscience and decency are in the past. Just like the cute little boy Vanya Kuchin survived only in photographs. Today he is a well-known author of his own songs, who went through a severe school of life.
The biography of Ivan Kuchin is typical of many people living in harsh Siberia. The child was born on March 13, 1959 in the Transbaikal city of Petrovsk. Ordinary family of workers. Father is a driver, mother is a worker on the railway. The usual pattern is parents at work, and the boy is free. Ivan from a young age knew how the street lives and the basic rules of behavior in the company of boys. He studied well at school and received a certificate and entered the art department of the pedagogical school. But to complete the education failed. Then, as expected, the young man was drafted into the armed forces.
Acquaintances and friends of Kuchin note that during the school years, the now famous author-performer did not show poetic or musical talents. Like many peers he knew how to strum on the guitar, but nothing more. After serving in the army, he tried to act as a guitarist on the stage of a restaurant in Yalta. I did not get the desired satisfaction and began to think about my own recording studio. And I didn’t think of anything better than to steal equipment from the local House of Culture. On what I got and received a real term.
