Real USSR » Soviets abroad

The Wall: the Unaccounted Tragedies.

eugenia — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 22:08:09 +0000

As previously stated by George Orwell, war is peace. So when Walter Ulbricht, the Leader of the German Socialist Unity Party, on June 15, 1961 said: “No one has the intention of building the wall!”, it took only about two months for the construction to begin. The rundown state of the Eastern part was forcing people to flee in the search of better lives in the West of Germany: in the first six months of the year 1961, about 150 000 people left their houses. However, more stayed — and so the Wall did not only separate the city — it cut families in halves.

On the morning of August 13, 1961 the Berlinians woke up to the first layer of bricks being erected.

Prior to the construction of the Wall, posters fake promises were all over the city

During the first months, this way grandparents got to see their grandkids.

One had to use props to wave to friends on the other side.

The first anniversary of the Wall, 1962: the woman on the roof waving to her mother.

The use of binoculars was helpful during the first few months after the erection.

The other side was watching, as well.

As the time went, the barb wire and bricks were introduced to keep people away. The bride under the windows of her grandparents. The bouquet was lowered on a string.

This bride only got to see her relatives via binoculars.

Many were prepared to leave their lives behind and just flee for the better.

The Eastern authorities trying to stop the Western photographers by sending light into the cameras by mirrors.

Those who got caught fleeing were shot on the spot.

Gunter Liftin was shot on August 24, 1961 — before the construction was even complete.

In February 1975 this brave fellow was caught by the patrol guards, trying to cross the mined field.

Another unsuccessful attempt: wounded in the field.

In 1975 John Runnings from Canada tried to destroy the Wall with a hammer but was severely wounded by the machine-gunned guards.

Within hours after the fall. The happiest of faces.

Images are courtesy livejournal user drugoi.

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Oleg Popov, The Sad Clown

eugenia — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 10:16:03 +0000

In about six weeks this remarkable man will celebrate his 80th Birthday. Who is he? The most popular clown of the Soviet Union, also known as the Sunshine Clown, Oleg Popov is true icon of its own. Born in 1930, he had on of the toughest upbringings ever — yet he managed to become one of most recognisable people of the 20th century: he also was in Guinness Records Book for “being popular in the West and in the East”.

On top of his game. Oleg Popov in 1976.

He was training to be a plumber when, at the age of 17, his friends took him along to the local circus — overwhelmed, he later said there was no way back. He started learning acrobatics, gymnastics, tricks; he spent all of his time and money on learning about the famous clowns and their techniques. It did not take him long to become famous: his natural talent and an open smile made wonders.

In his interview for the Russian newspaper Arguments and Facts, Oleg Popov is reminiscing about the happiest day of his life:after Stalin’s death in 1953, all entertainment was banned as a deep mourning was announced. So the circus he was working at was shut, and those weeks of not doing what he loved was torturous. It took over two months for the ban to be lifted, and even then he was briefed not to joke “too much”. So coming out on stage and receiving a huge round of applaud made Oleg realised that it wasn’t only him who missed performing — it was also the spectators who needed laughter.

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The Victory Aftermath. Russia in Second World War.

eugenia — Sun, 16 May 2010 09:12:35 +0000

The V-Day. Copyright unknown

On May, 25th 1945 Joseph Stalin made a celebratory speech devoted to the end of the Russian Great Patriotic War. The Second World War was coming to an end, but the Soviet Union was done fighting. The Russian troops had exited Germany and ahead lied a long road of rebuilding and rehabilitation. So in Kremlin, at the V-day Meeting, Stalin had said the following:

Do not expect me to say anything extraordinary today. I have a very simple, very ordinary toast to make. I would like to raise a glass to health of those people who are low in rank and invisible in the hierarchy. Of those who we consider to be the “small screws” of our huge state mechanism — they might be small but without them us generals, marshals and other top army leaders wouldn’t have made it. They are plentiful, they are a legion, it is tens of millions of people who have not been heard of — yet they hold us together, as the base holds the top. To their health!

Today we have brought to your attention a fragment of the interview with Yelena Bonner, a human rights activist, a dissident, a writer, and a widow of the late Andrei Sakharov — during the war she was a teen and now, courtesy to the Internet-magazine Snob.ru, she tells us about her experience during the war.

So — We did not fight for Stalin or the Soviet Union. We fought because we had no other choice.

Elena Bonner, b.1923. Image couretsy of snob.ru

Do you remember the war motto: “To Stalin! To Soviet Union!”

I was 18 when I was summoned — at the beginning of war, and till very late 1945 I spent with the troops — yet I never heard that motto. Every time there was a fire on the frontline we never shouted “To Stalin””, it was more like “You sons of fucking bitches!”.

So at the beginning of the war we have been told that many — lots! — of young people volunteered to be sent to the front line..

That was another huge lie about that war. Only a tiny percent of people who ended up in the front line volunteered to be there. The rest were mobilised, hands down. Every single man of the appropriate age, be him a farmer or a factory worker — all of them were summoned and sent to the war.

I was also mobilised, as thousands of other girls. I was a student at Hertsen Institute, and they had a huge banner on the wall: “Girls of our country, get your second, military profession now”. So we had to take a compulsory course in military education. The choices we had were about becoming a nurse, a communications technician or a sniper. I chose to be a nurse, and by the end of it I was listed as “suitable for summon”.

So on June 22nd, 1941 you heard about the German invasion –you know you are listed as “suitable”, so did you know you’d be part of the war very shortly? Did you have a feeling of upcoming radical change?

You know, it was a very odd feeling. I am eighty seven years old now, and now I am trying to comprehend what was happening and I am failing at it, how my generation lived anticipating the war. Not just the people of Leningrad — at least we experienced the war with Finland of 1939 — 1940 (the so-called Winter War), and it was a real war, with food shortages and no heating. So starting from 1937 I just couldn’t help but anticipate a war coming — and it was a solid, gut feeling. My Moscow friends felt the same.

So in 1942 you were summoned as a nurse — what did it feel like?

I was a nurse on the train, which was travelling in the Leningrad district, picking up the wounded and delivering them to Vologda or other safe destinations. There they were dropped off, cared for, nurtured a bit and then either returned back to the front line, or sent somewhere else, I am unsure… The train was constantly bombed, or derailed, or lost in the snow. And then I was wounded myself — I had a broken clavicle, a damaged left shoulder, injured nerve and a blood eye — I was bad and I was sent by the same train to Vologda and later to the Urals.

I guess I was very lucky throughout the war. There was no reason for me to be on the train — I could have been right on the front line. It was 1942, the toughest year by some account — nobody summoned during that year came back.

Yelena Bonner in her Moscow apartment. Image courtesy of Snob magazine.

How long did you spend on that train?

Till 1945 — till the very end. We were sent to Germany to evacuate the wounded from their territories in 1945. So on May 8, the VE Day, we were somewhere around Innsbruck, Austria, and this was our last journey bound for Leningrad. We arrived home, the train crew was restructured, I was made the Head of some medical department to care for the wounded bomb disposal soldiers. The war was technically over, yet these guys — working with the explosives — kept coming our way.I was one of the last ones to be demobilised, too — in August 1945.

Can you tell us some more myths about the war?

As I have said, nobody volunteered. Another one was that the Jewish did not fight — it is not true, they did. And probably the biggest one is post war — the exploitation of that war. And all these military parades show offs — they are no longer carried out to remember those who did not come back — now they have a mission of public relations, and TV ratings, and flexing the military muscle — both on the domestic and international levels.

Did you feel that right after the war things would change to the better?

We did — we felt that our country had just survived the incredible! We felt powerful, we felt like we were able to change things around, we hoped for the better.

So why do these war veterans who came back from the war never argue these myths about the war?

Why do you think when we came back and thought ah, we are so powerful — why do you think we all shut up?

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Slava Kurilov: Alone at Sea. An Unbelievable Way to Escape the Iron Curtain

eugenia — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 12:40:40 +0000

The only person to escape the Iron Curtain by swimming.

By job he was an oceanographer, by heart he was a dreamer, by nationality he was a citizen of the planet Earth — in short, he was an extraordinary guy. Yet his personal file in the USSR was stamped as “not worthy of an exit visa” so he was not allowed to leave the country, even if it was for a holiday. So in December, 1974 he jumped a cruise boat “The Soviet Union” off the coast of the Philippines islands — and he swam to freedom.With no food or drink, no swimming equipment apart from flips and goggles, he swam to the shores about a hundred kilometers for three days — completely alone at sea.

Since his childhood, Slava Kurilov had been very keen on swimming and he loved the sea so deeply, he made it his career — he was an oceanographer, a deep sea diver. He knew the sky — all the major constellations, he knew meteorology, he had a vivid inquisitive mind — he also spoke good English, had a sister living in Canada and his father was in a German prison camp during the WWII, which also considered somewhat of a treachery. A few times Slava applied for a permit for research trips outside the country, but to no avail — the reason being “endangering the security of the USSR”.

Slava at a typical day at work

In his diaries he wrote that ““my homeland had sentenced me to life imprisonment through no fault of my own. Until my death I will never see the free world.”

Apart from that, Slava had an interesting outlook on life: he practiced yoga and meditation, he trained himself to abstemious, ascetic regime, and often he went without food — or water! — for five days at a time.

THE CRUISE “FROM WINTER INTO SUMMER”

One day — it was November 1974 — Slava came across a travel ad in a paper: a large cruise line was to go on a voyage towards the equator, departing Vladivostok. The cruise was an unusual one: the ship did not intend to enter any foreign ports so no visas were required — the route was just to travel the outer waters for 20 days without approaching the coastal lines.

When Slava read that, he felt a pang of hope — in his memoirs, he later wrote that he felt like a wild animal which was about to be taken out for a walk before chaining him down forever. So the decision to go on a cruise was made, and it was an easy, confident one.

Interestingly, the cruise ship was built in 1930s in Germany and initially was called “Adolf Hitler” — the rumour had it that it was the Fuhrer’s private yacht. It sank during the war, but was recovered by the Soviet engineers. After that, it became the largest cruise ship of the Soviet Union and was used on the Far East routes, as far as possible from the civilised world — so it couldn’t be vetoed.

The route for this particular cruise was kept in strict secret. What was announced, however, that the passengers could sunbathe under the tropical sun, swim in the onboard pools and enjoy the stunning vistas. The guest lecturers would talk about the geography of the Pacific Ocean as well as the countries in the proximity. A cruise with no stops but with lectures about the South East Asia — well, in those days it did not sound unreasonable.

The main challenge was to figure out when — and where to jump. Slava’s goal was the Philippine island of Siargao, near the southern part of Mindanao.

Passengers were never shown any maps or other navigational tools — yet Slava managed to steal a glance at a captain’s dashboard.

THE JUMP

On December 13, at about 8pm, dressed in tight thick shorts and a few pairs of socks, equipped with a snorkel, flips and an amulet he had deep faith in, Slava walked to the upper deck — and took a leap into the darkness.

The deck was no longer under my feet. For several moments I flew through the air, until I felt the waves parting, gently welcoming me into their embrace. Coming up to the surface I looked around–and froze in terror. Beside me, an arm’s length away, was the huge hull of the liner and its gigantic turning propeller. I desperately summoned up my strength to swim out of reach, but I was held in the dense mass of stationary water that was coupled to the screw in a mortal grip. It felt as if the liner had suddenly stopped, yet only a few seconds ago it had been doing eighteen knots. The terrifying vibrations of the hellish noise went through my body; the screw seemed to be alive: it had a maliciously smiling face and held me tight with invisible arms.

And so he began to swim, trying to keep the liner behind his back, swimming away from it. After the initial shock, Slava was consumed by utter silence — just the mild murmurs of the ocean accompanied his thoughts. He realised that he really needed a compass — yet taking one on board would have seemed suspicious. Now all he had to do was to continue swimming — but he found it comforting, as the water was warm and the ocean seemed friendly. Had he known what was ahead of him, he later wrote — he would have jumped anyway. Anything lying ahead — losing the direction, thirst, hunger, uncertainty, jelly fish or shark — was a better option than returning to the ship, to the Soviet Union.

Kurilov in his latter days.

A day later he did not feel sore or tired — only the breathing of the ocean, which by now seemed like a living creature with heavy breath. Slava miscalculated the route, and his initial estimates — to swim for about 24 hours — had grown to three full nights alone in the ocean.

THE REST

There was a lot between the jump and the land. He was all sore and swallen from the salt water. He scratched his knees on the coral reefs and was bleeding, thinking of the sharks. He almost made it to a quiet bay — until he was picked up by a strong torrent and taken back into the open ocean. A boat passed right by him without noticing. The Soviet cruise liner seemed centuries away now to him.

At last he felt the land under his feet. The first thought at that moment, funnily, was “If I get attacked by a shark now, it would have been the biggest fail ever”. The second thought — even a feeling — was a wave — pun intended — of huge love towards the element of the water, towards the Pacific Ocean, the feeling of a beautiful force that had looked after him so very well. And after that he immediately fell asleep on the sand under a palm tree.

Waking up a few hours earlier, Slava took stock of himself. he was not hungry — his mouth was still swallen. He was vey thirsty, but far from the state of dying of thirst. When planning the great escape, what never crossed his mind was the thought of actually reaching the foreign land — and so he did not foresee a need for matches, a knife, an ID. But nothing mattered — Slava felt like the first person on Earth, like Adam, like Tarzan from the Jungles, and it felt great!

The locals, who found him on the beach, could not believe his charade swimming motions — after the initial contact was established, they kept asking him about “the rest of the bunch”. It was incomprehensible for them, in a way, to believe that there was no shipwreck — just an escape.

Till his death, every year he celebrated the days of 12, 13 and 14 of December as his second — spiritual — birthday.

Slava spent six months in the Philippines, while the authorities figured what to do with him. He was imprisoned for a few weeks, but then released as of “good character”. After the contacts were made with his sister, he was sent to live to Canada. His very first job was at a pizza joint, but after he perfected his English and got himself oriented, he continued doing what he loved most — working with the oceans. Once he travelled to Israel, which he instantly fell in love with — and so in 1986 he immigrated to Haifa. He continued doing oceanography-related research until 1998, when a diving accident went wrong — he was 62 years old.

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Labour Riots in Novocherkassk: Soviet ‘Tiananmen’

Dmitry Yakimenko — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 00:22:20 +0000

Meat, butter, pay rise!

Novocherkassk is a small town in the South of Russia, also known as the unofficial capital of the Cossacks, the Slavic military community. Unfortunately this town was the place of a huge tragedy, when in 1962 the civilian demonstration was opened fire on.

The turmoil started on June, 1 when the Soviet government announced the grocery price increase of about 30 per cent. The riot began at the progressive electro locomotive factory: just before the price increase, the salary had been lowered, which already was below the living minimum (about a hundred rubbles). The workers demanded an explanation, and threatened to strike. Faced with an ultimatum, the CEO Kurochkin mounted the platform and demanded that people went back to work. ‘If you do not have enough money for meat, buy the liver pie’ answered Kurochkin with the snarl.

This phrase sparked the unrest. The news about the riot quickly spread through the factory, so more and more labourers stopped their work. Someone made a fire using the portraits of the country leader Nikita Khrushchev as fuel. At the same time the factory illustrator drew some posters with the workers’ claims. Later, for writing four words “Meat, butter, wages increase” on the poster he was imprisoned for 12 years.

Novocherkassk Mosaic Wall

The strike leaders sent the representatives to other factories of the region – so a large meeting was scheduled for the day after.

By the evening the army entered the town, headed by the vice-minister of internal affairs, as well as a huge group of government representatives. The order to arrest the riot instigators was issues, but it failed to stop people from protesting – by now, the crowds were approaching the town centre and the City Council offices.

Perhaps the tragedy could have been avoided if the Saturday was not a working day. People came to the factory and gathered in front of the factory building. With the red banners and portraits of Lenin in their hands, the march to the town centre had begun. While they were moving through town, a lot of students and ordinary city dwellers joined the demonstration – mainly because of idle curiosity. No one could imagine that it may turn to carnage, mayhem and years in prison.

The crowd came to the main town square and broke into the City Council building: off the balconies speeches were being made addressed to the public and the Soviet government, demanding wage increase and better price policies.

Meanwhile the army troops kept arriving from the neighbourhood regions. The situation was labelled as coup – it is still unknown whether the order to open fire was issues by Khrushchev himself, but the reality was that it was very unlikely without his approval.

About fifty soldiers of special troops tried forcing people back. First some soldiers made the warning one-off shot in the air. Immediately there was a shout from the crowd that it was blank shooting – so the people made a move at the soldiers. That moment the fire was opened.

People rushed in all directions causing chaos. Several dozens of people were on the ground, with blood all over. The whole thing did not last an hour.

Right away the fire fighters were called to wash the blood off the square and posters with a promise of a dance party for the following day were put up to make the citizens forget about the tragedy

The news about shooting quickly spread around the town. The spontaneous protest meeting of outraged people continued in the night after the tragedy. Introducing a curfew the army troops forced people to leave the square. The next few days were the real challenge for thousands of citizens who were afraid that they had been caught by the KGB photographers during the march. That time the government leaders discussed various options to prosecute the people involved in the unrest. Some of them even proposed to deport all the town citizens to the Middle Asia.

The Soviet government feared that the news about the riot in a small town would spread around the country and around the world. To prevent this, the KGB attracted several special machines to control the radio frequencies which could transmit the information about the tragedy. All the mail sent from the town of Novocherkassk was opened and looked through.

Novocherkassk Riots Memorial

Long after the unrest the KGB officers found the leaflets with claims and slogans about the protest. The tragic outcome was 33 persons lost and 90 injured. 122 people were arrested where 7 were blamed for terrorism and were later executed. The majority were imprisoned for 10–15 years for participating in abortive riots.

The cases were revised after the resign of Khrushchev. Some people were later released, but it was poor consolation for families of the killed civilians.

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More pictures of Soviet Moscow 1960s by Mark Riboud

Stas Kulesh — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 11:12:48 +0000

Moscow, 1960s

This is our fourth post devoted to Marc Riboud, an outstanding French photographer, who traveled extensively throughout the Soviet Union. His images captured an array of everyday life episodes from the lives of the Soviet people. As always, click on the magnifying glass icon to see the photos in detail.

Please follow us on twitter and stay tuned. Oh, and thanks for being such a wonderful crowd!

At the winter market. Moscow, 1960s

The old between the new. Moscow, 1960s

Presenting to the class. Moscow, 1960s

The one and only V.I. Lenin. Moscow, 1960s

I am the October’s leader! Communists forever. Moscow, 1960s

In the fields. Moscow, 1960s

At the factory. Moscow, 1960s

By the Moscow river. Moscow, 1960s

Y. Gagarin — glory of the Party! Moscow, 1960s

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The Patriotic Education in USSR. Part 2 — Pioneers, Soviet Boy Scouts

Anton Markin — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 21:27:03 +0000

We are the pioneers, sons of working class (a popular song)

As you remember from the previous post, at the age of 9 the Soviet Kids grew out of their October Kids affiliation. The next ideological rite of passage was pioneering which the Soviet country placed a huge importance on. Loosely based on the American Boy Scout’s movement, pioneering covered all kids till the age of fourteen and worked in close relation with schools. Just like anything else Soviet style, it had its idiosyncrasies.

The pioneer tie knot under a school jacket.

Almost all October Kids made it to the next level – not to be accepted, one had to really misbehave and do something wrong on several occasions. However, the process of initiation was organised in a smart ideological way: usually it was scheduled close to some Soviet days of importance: November 7^th (The Great October Socialist Revolution), 22^nd April (Vladimir Lenin’s Birthday), 19^th May – the Pioneering day. As the initiation ceremony was broken down into several parts, everybody had the impression that only the most “worthy” of the lot were accepted. In reality, a class of school kids would make it to pioneers in full over a period of time of less than two years.

The initiation were MC’d by school teachers. Stalin himself would witness off the wall.

The initiation process involved a vow:

I am (full name, eg Anton Markin) entering the team of the Soviet Union Pioneer Organisation, in front of all my comrade mates, I solemnly declare: to love and to protect my country, live as the great Lenin advised, as the Communist party guides, as the Pioneer Laws require.

Then the neophyte would receive a tie, which was just like any other scout’s type of a tie. There were rules on how to tie a knot, and the colour was, of course, bloody red. A badge with the burning fire of Pioneering and Lenin’s profile was also presented. The badge bore the slogan of all pioneers – Always ready! – which was meant to be a reply to “Pioneer, be ready for the mutual action of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union!”

Always ready!

Usually each school class would contain up to three pioneer teams. Each team had a designated captain, a discipline watcher, a note taker and other positions ensuring the smooth organisational process of the every day life of pioneers.

The initiation.

It was pioneers’ job to curate the October Kids by providing guidance and mentoring, organising their leisure time. The “older brothers” were responsible for taking the October Kids not only to the movies or museums: as they had to be the “right” influence, they often organised meetings for kids of all ages with remarkable citizens or excellent production line workers to keep the young ones keen on learning and working.

Pioneers with astronaut Leonov, the first man in the outer space.

A popular activity, which any modern ex-pioneer would find nostalgic now, was the collection of paper from the neighbourhood for the recycling purposes. This was organised as a competition between the pioneer teams: kids had to go knock on doors and ask for old newspapers, books, unused boxes etc. The winners – whoever collected most – were entitled to a “thank you” letter from school or the Komsomol organisation.

A usual school class round up

So in fact, no matter how hard they denied it, the pioneer organisation took a lot after the American Boy Scout movement. Starting with the uniform and right through to the organisational structure, it was a copy and paste scheme of work. Needless to say, the propaganda lines went as “American kids living the dangerous life of crass consumerism, whereas us, Soviets, bring up our younger generations in accordance with the rules of good behaviour, wellbeing, respecting the elderly and so on”. Well, as the Iron Curtain was hanging up strongly, nobody had the means of comparing– even though it could have been a great way to learn off the American counterparts. But a typical for the Soviets “Ours is best, is Western is rotten” attitude was adopted.

Boy Scout

The mass media catered well for the pioneer market segment. The teen magazines, such as “Friendly Kids”, “A Soviet Schooler”, “Pioneer”, “Burning Fire”, “Young modeller – constructor” etc., were extremely popular. Well, providing this was almost it – there was nothing in print, which would cover music, or interpersonal relations, or sex, or anything of the interest of those approaching puberty as it was considered inappropriate. The propaganda had its sprout tentacles reached out to even to the teen Russians.

“Burning Fire”. May 1988. The cover topic is 285 years of city of St Petersburg.

Summers – June to August – was the time to take off the tie and enjoy the well-earned school break. Many kids would be sent to the pioneer summer camps – the places to stay for a few weeks, play, rest, do sports, meet new friends.

Altogether the pressure was constantly on: being a pioneer was not only an honour, it was also a responsibility, and the adults, knowing it was an easy subject to manipulate, would demand good behaviour, good marks, household help etc. Nothing unreasonable, certainly, but still – the possibility of being expelled from the pioneer organisation was a constant threat, and so in order to do well in the Soviet Union, one had to belong.

Pioneer! Learn to fight for the actions of the working people. Unfortunately, wordy slogans, which made very little sense, were idiosyncratic to the USSR.

That was what kids were doing until the age of 14, when it was a new rite of ideological passage – the Komsomol.

To Be Continued.

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From Admirals to Dictators: Prominent Soviets on the Cover of Time Magazine.

Stas Kulesh — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 12:32:06 +0000

Here’s our little something for your Monday — a compilation of Time magazine covers with a USSR focus, 1925 — 1991. The prominent Soviet and Russian politicians, government leaders, poets, composers, writers, philosophers, scientists, astronauts, dissidents, admirals and a few dictators — the list of 110 remarkable citizens of the Soviet Union; those who made the West cringe — or laugh for that matter.

The faces are certainly repetitive, yet some covers are a piece of art –this collage is worth a good look, so click on the flash bit below, zoom in and explore.

If you would like to learn more please do not hesitate to click the fancy carousel. Thanks for being with us.

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The 50th Anniversary of the Soviet Union in Old American Mags

eugenia — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 02:04:06 +0000

Life and Look on the 50th Anniversary of the USSR, 1967.

In 1967, when the USSR turned 5o, it was a big day for both the country and the world. The Soviet Union had made it through, despite everything — and the world now had to take it seriously. The Cold War, which was at its highest at the time, kept the USSR in the spotlight, too, so the media were more than interested in the young Russian country. It really is a shame that the writing cannot be deciphered due to the low resolution of these scans. However, these images convey the atmosphere of the times quite well — a wild yet sophisticated country in the eyes of the civilised world.

Swinging, critical, cocky Russians

On a picnic and out dancing, most likely.

Three weeks in a Russian town

Young Russians may speak a little English, should you need to talk to them

Rent an automobile in Russia? Why does it not sound believable?

A land of confounding diversity

An independent style of learning.

Forces of the future

Various scenes from ordinary lives

A heart surgeon and philosopher Dr Amosov– who was also an inventor, best-selling author, and exercise enthusiast, known for his inventions of several surgical procedures for treating heart defects.

Art was often synonymous with nihilism, political repressions and defection.

The dissident poets, who both defected later to the USA

Una Dolce Vita

Fashioned in the USSR, photographed in Leningrad

Russian beauties

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The Swan Song of Mikhail Baryshnikov

eugenia — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 11:59:32 +0000

It doesn’t matter how high you lift your leg. The technique is about transparency, simplicity and making an earnest attempt

Says Mikhail Baryshnikov, the famous dancer, actor, producer and photographer — a talent for whom the USSR was not big enough.

Mikhail Baryshnikov

Mikhail was born in 1948 to Russian parents, in Riga, the capital of now independent Latvia. His dance is prominent from his early years, so it’s no surprise that he pursues the career of a classical ballet dancer. He graduates from the Leningrad Choreography School and gets accepted to the Kirov Ballet also in Leningrad where he performs the signature roles for a number of years. Mikhail has it tough in the USSR: being not very tall by Soviet standards – 168cm only, he was more likely to be granted only second-class ballet roles. More so, he disliked the rigidity of the Soviet ballet rules which had been around for over a hundred years: he longed for innovation and his own breathing space, which the Soviet dance organizations were unlikely to grant.

At the start of his career, he was said to do rigourous yoga for further flexibility.

This is how he got to pondering a relocation to a more liberal, possibly Western country – which would have never happened, as the USSR did not allow immigration, let alone immigration to the capitalistic countries. It was somewhat predictable that in 1974, while touring Canada with the dance troupe of Bolshoi Theatre, he defected: he says he was exploring his dance boundaries. Indeed, in the first two years after the defection, he danced with no less than 13 choreographers, “looking for himself”.

Mikhail Baryshnikov by Annie Leibovitz

“Mr B”, as he was known in the West, barely spoke a word of English and very little French, had a name virtually impossible to pronounce, childish height but a huge ego to live with. However, none of it mattered as his talent, his mastery of gesture and stagecraft were incredibly compelling. “It doesn’t matter how high you lift your leg. The technique is about transparency, simplicity and making an earnest attempt.” The idea of a “random dance” appealed to him, where the thrown dice determines sequence of the dance moves.

One of the most charismatic persons in history of art.

Mikhail Baryshnikov

He left classical ballet in 1990, turning his genius towards the other forms of artful expressions: modern dance, acting and photography. Among the noticeable (and certainly less known facts) is his role as Yuri Kopeikine, a famous Russian womaniser ballet dancer in the 1977 film The Turning Point, for which he received an Oscar nomination. He has had a few photographic exhibitions around the world, and just like in dance, his clear images of what’s on the photo are portrayed with elegance and style.

Modern dance, modern days.

For him New York is home these days. Now he is a second most famous Mikhail of the Soviet Union (right after Mikhail Gorbachev).

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