Stanislav Plotnikov

Stanislav Valerievitch Plotnikov was born in St. Petersburg, Russia (at that time Leningrad, USSR) on December 7th, 1963. He was born to Larrisa Plotnikova, who raised him alongside Natalia, his maternal grandmother. As a child, Stanislav was known to be bright and mischievous - one to provoke goats with a stick rattled against their horns, only to be chased up a tree by the justifiably irate animal. Boyhood troublemaking aside, Sanislav also displayed an aptitude for music. It was clear early on that the way he played the clarinet that he would be near prodigious in his talent and potential.

Despite childhood poverty, his grandmother managed to find musical training for him, and eventually he was taken on as a “vospitanik” (underaged student musician) into the Soviet Army Band in St. Petersburg at the age of 15. Because this did not count for his mandatory service at age 18, he was often manipulated by his superiors with the threat of being sent to the front in Afghanistan, rather than remaining to serve in the band. He was greatly valued by the band leadership, though, as he won many national and even international competitions as a solist for the band.

In 1985 he was accepted into the Leningrad Conservatory of Music where he trained under some of the best musicians of the time, mentors of whom he would refer to with reverence even decades after his time training under them was finished. There, he learned how to display the depths of his soul and expression into his playing, accompanied by technical skill and dexterous fingers. Those who listened to him play could not help but hold their breath in fascination as he delivered stunning performances of Mozart, Webber, and Brahms. As solemn as classical training could be, Stanislav maintained his cheeky, sometimes outright inappropriate humor about his training. In answer to the question, “How do you manage to play such long phrases without rest?”, he’d state “I learned how to breathe through my butthole,” followed by a boyish smirk and burst of laughter.

He met his first wife, Maya, during this time, and together, they had a son named Evgeni Stanislavich Plotnikov in 1987. Miraculously, father and son both share the same birthdate, December 7th, a date Stanislav would often remark as being an omen of good luck.

Truly, in many ways Stanislav was very lucky. In 1989 Stanislav entered the United States and claimed political asylum, escaping the Soviet Union and country of his birth, never to return. Though his first marriage had fallen apart, he soon found himself with the true love of his life, Anna NikolivnaTschursin. He would later describe his first meeting with her as a moment of awe, as if seeing a “golden haired goddess”. It did not take long for him to romance Anna, and on August 30th, 1991 the two married. Present at the ceremony was their infant daughter, Alexandra Stanislavna Plotnikova, born only a few months prior on March 25th, 1991.

Following their union, Stanislav and Anna built a life and legacy together. Alexandra was followed by Dimitri Stanislavich Plotnikov on August 8th, 1997. The young family, complete with cats and dogs, first occupied a townhouse in Centerville. As Anna followed a successful path in Environmental Science and found a career in the EPA, Stanislav continued to follow his passion in music and joined the United States Army as a band musician in the Continental Army Band. Though he was discharged early in 1999, after just under 2 years of service, Stanislav was remembered by his superiors as an eager, dedicated, and respectful soldier who impressed all who heard him play his clarinet.

As Anna’s career took flight, Stanislav took on the duties of stay-at-home father, supporting his wife in childcare and home maintenanc, something that was unusual for a man in the 90’s. In November of 2000, the family “moved up” and bought what would become “home” in Stafford, Virginia, a move that was marked by the Thanksgiving Holiday. That Thanksgiving and every Thanksgiving since, until his passing, Stanislav would express how thankful he was for his family, who supported and loved him. The strong love and pride he had for his wife and children were hallmarks of Stanislav, who made a habit of showering praise upon his family. Every success was a celebration of great magnitude, each day was accompanied by an effusive expression of love. He was known by his peers to be a bit of braggart, continually listing off the accomplishments of his loved ones. “My daughter Sasha is a black belt.” “My son Dimitri is so strong, he’s basically Superman.” “My wife Anna is the best any man could want, she is my Queen.”

Tragically, as it is with many who are naturally sensitive to others and to the world around them, Stanislav often found himself overfull with emotion. A hard youth in the Soviet Union and the struggles of a classically trained musician in the new millennium took their toll. Depression and mental illness hounded him, sometimes insidiously until he could no longer recognize life without pain. He had long ago learned to use alcohol as a way to numb himself to his pain, despite knowing that liquor is a false friend. Over the years, he would find himself in and out of recovery. Despite his struggle, and cycling through recovery and relapse, each time he restarted his life he would improve in some way, becoming a better version of himself. Though he was an ill man, he was fundamentally good and the love for his wife and children made him push through his pain and try to improve, if even just a little bit. This ethic made an impression, both on his family and those in the A.A. community, many of whom came to regard him as a leader within that community.

Sometimes, however, even the strongest and most dedicated can fall to their demons, pain, and anguish. In the evening of April 29th, 2020, Stanislav Valeriovich Plotnikov passed away, a victim of his illnesses. He is survived by his wife, daughter, and sons, who mourn his passing deeply. Though he is physically gone, he will be remembered by those who knew him for his bright smile, his larger than life laugh, his sensitivity, and the rare, soulful craft of his musicianship.

Memory Eternal