And so, after two days of photographing monuments — and, y’know, doing a bit of work — I head home again. My colleague and I were wondering how these pigeons got into the Sheremetyevo airport buildings, but maybe they don’t even bother leaving; I should imagine there is more than enough here to feed and shelter them, rather like that Tom Hanks character in The Terminal. Warmer than a Moscow winter, anyway.
Well, if you hit a theme, sometimes it’s worth continuing it. From yesterday’s post-Soviet-style statuary to the real deal today, the monument on Leninsky Prospekt to Yuri Gagarin, first man in space. Whatever you think of the Soviets’ attitude toward economic issues, it’s hard to deny they did good statuary.
Here I am in Moscow again, a place I seem to find impossible to avoid for very long. But I guess I’ve got used to it down the years. In the centre there remain many picturesque little lanes (flanked by real estate worth billions of roubles, no doubt); here, on an extremely cold evening, I found what looks like a piece of Soviet realist art but this monument was in fact unveiled in 2006. It commemorates the composer Aram Khachaturian — you might not have heard of him, but I virtually guarantee you’d recognise his Sabre Dance.
Last morning in Moscow on this trip. Will there be another one? Perhaps… It is about time I got to see some more of this vast country in fact. It may happen, it may not. Anyway I imagine that this is many people’s stereotypical view of what Moscow looks like, and there is some truth to it, particularly outside the city centre (here we are about five miles from Red Square). Liked the way the brief burst of morning sun was spilling over from the right-hand side of the picture. Do svedanya, until next time.
I’m still here on the campus of the Russian Academy of National Economy and Political Administration (hence, RANEPA). It was much colder today — thanks to a biting wind; the last few days had been still and not unpleasant, but today was bitter.
Afternoon off, so I headed for the Arbat, probably the most laid back of the streets in Moscow city centre, and venue for one of the very first Moscow pictures featured on this blog on 24th October 2011. The kids seem very happy to see the guy in the chipmunk suit, what they probably don’t realise is that he’s almost certainly handing out leaflets for some tattoo parlor or e-cigarette vendor. Note the Christmas decorations still up — Russian Orthodoxy does all that stuff two weeks later than we do, so it’s not yet past Twelfth Night here.
How nice it is that I have a job that frequently permits me the chance to get out of cold, damp, dark Britain in the depths of January. Many people would here make a point of going somewhere warm and sunny, like Australia, or the Mediterranean. I am a contrary bugger though, so I’ve come to Moscow.
It obviously takes a while to get things cleared up after the 9th May Victory Day celebrations: three days later and they’re still at it. But at least it gives me a chance to get a gratuitous shot of St. Basil’s onto the blog again. If you don’t think this is one of the most incredible buildings in the world then I’m sorry, you have no soul and I’m just not your friend any more.
A day spent entirely working on campus here in Moscow, so let’s take this opportunity to check in on the slow decay of the Monument to Corporate Failure; a building which fascinates me and has been depicted on here several times before (example). At least fifteen years this has sat here empty, since the Italian company that 90% built it went bust with it uncompleted and no one has subsequently worked out whether they can safely demolish it or not — or perhaps, no one is bothered. Never used, bits of it periodically seem to fall off, but it does have a certain grandeur, in its own pathetic way.
Seeing as I missed the Victory Day celebrations yesterday let’s pay homage with this shot. The Russian Tomb of the Unknown Soldier lies below the monumental west wall of the Kremlin, at one end of a row of memorials to various Soviet cities, all decorated since yesterday with garlands of flowers. I think we citizens of elsewhere mostly forget that it was the Soviets who lost the most men (and women) of all the countries who fought in World War Two. They have a right to remember the dead. Perhaps not to celebrate them — but to remember them.
Being 42 