RETURN TO ""PLANET IVANCHUK"

By DARKHOUSECHESS 


I’ll never forget one occasion, early in my days touring the chess circuit, when I watched Kasparov analyzing a game Ivanchuk had just played. At one point, Garry froze, staring at the chessboard. I think he skipped a heartbeat. Then he looked up, eyes wide open as if he couldn’t believe what he had just seen —a very characteristic gesture of his—, and muttered, “He is a genius.”

I don’t know what he saw in that game that prompted the comment, but Kasparov’s voice and expression didn’t convey admiration or joy. To me, it sounded like fear, as if he had just seen an alien. Never before, and never again, have I seen Kasparov talking in similar terms about anyone else.

The Ukrainian legend made headlines last April with an impressive run: 29 rated classical games in 28 days. He didn’t lose a single one, gained 40 rating points, and climbed to world No. 84 in the live rankings. Not bad for a 56-year-old!

Chuky’s recent success was warmly welcomed by fans, especially since it came just months after heartbreaking videos of him surfaced on social media last Christmas. In those clips, he was seen crying and howling in the playing hall after two painful defeats at the World Rapid and Blitz Championships.

I was concerned too, but the truth is, anyone who’s been around chess events for long enough has seen this before. The howling usually happens in solitude, out on the streets or in a quiet park where he lets it all out. But the tears? They often come right at the board.

Many of his peers believe that if Ivanchuk weren’t so emotional, he might have become World Champion—perhaps one of the greatest ever. Kasparov has called him “a first-class chess player,” placing him in a category above Gelfand, Topalov, and even Aronian. Gelfand himself once said, “Ivanchuk, when in good shape, plays better than Carlsen.”

But that’s a big “if,” because Ivanchuk’s emotional nature is part of what defines him—and part of why he’s so deeply loved in the chess world. In fact, I have a theory: Chuky is so overwhelmed by emotions in the “real world” that he sought refuge in chess—a safe harbor where emotions still exist, but are more manageable than in everyday life. “Marriage is like taking a pawn on b2 in the Sicilian Najdorf,” he once said, reflecting on his first divorce. Now, the war in Ukraine has affected him terribly, and even though he has tried to stay in Lvov, he couldn’t cope with it anymore and he has taken the first steps to relocate to Spain, a country that he loves and where he lived some of the best moments in his career.

Being so easily overwhelmed by the emotions might explain Ivanchuk’s lifelong obsession with the game to which he devotes himself so completely. He is arguably one of the greatest chess monomaniacs of all time, up there with Fischer and Korchnoi. During tournaments, you often see him pacing around the hotel lobby with a foldable chess set in hand, always looking for someone to analyze with: he will welcome just anyone, any level, any game, or opening or position.

His love affair with chess began at age six, when he received a magnetic chess set for his birthday. The tiny pieces captured his vivid imagination. His father, Mikhail Vasilievich, taught him the basics, and seeing his instant fascination, his mother, Maria Vasilievna, took him to a local library to borrow a chess book: the classic Journey to the Chess Kingdom by Averbakh and Beilin. Before long, he was captivated by Alekhine’s dazzling combinations, and Alekhine became his favorite player. “There is no single way to learn chess. One’s personality plays an important part,” he told Dirk Jan ten Geuzendam in an interview.

Ivanchuk has a remarkable ability to learn, with a memory that stands out—even among top-level chess players. I recall one occasion in October 2003, when I ran into him completely by chance on Las Ramblas, Barcelona’s most famous pedestrian avenue. He was carrying a book titled Learn Spanish in Three Weeks. Two months later, I arrived in Yucatán, Mexico, for the Carlos Torre Memorial, and the first thing I saw was Vasyl Ivanchuk giving a press conference, speaking slowly, but in nearly flawless Spanish. From what I’ve heard, he learned Turkish in much the same way: almost overnight!

His brain simply packs more RAM and hard drive capacity than the average human. That’s why he often doesn’t even need to look at the board while calculating during games. His iconic image—staring at the ceiling, picking his nose, seemingly lost in thought—never fails to make an impression, especially on those seeing him for the first time.

Yes, Ivanchuk is utterly obsessed with chess, but he also has interests beyond the 64 squares. He enjoys detective novels and history books. And when the mood strikes, he’ll start singing Ukrainian folk songs—and he sings them beautifully, with real emotion. The list of unusual situations in which I’ve seen Chucky outside the chessboard could easily fill several articles like this one.

It was Vishy Anand who first joked that Vasyl lives on his own planet, “Planet Ivanchuk”. And let me tell you: Planet Ivanchuk is a very interesting place.