Real USSR » Thaw

Take Me To The River!

eugenia — Tue, 21 Sep 2010 20:47:25 +0000

Late 1950s was an interesting epoch for the Soviet Union. The death of Stalin was like a beginning to a new era, “the Thaw” of Khrushchev, the very first signs of the Cold War and the famous Fulton speech of Churchill — all of those were the signs of uneasy times coming up. But just before the Iron Curtain fell heavily, Russia was the place to visit — and we are very grateful to the Life magazine photographers who took plentiful photos for us.

So we are going to make a 50 year leap into the past to the mid-Russia region of the Volga river — here, the sparkly brand new ships were making their first cruises. So — full throttle!

Captain Palkin on a Maiden Voyage of Krylov Ship. 1958.

From a small dingy…

Steamship Vladimir Lenin. Built in 1913, retired in 1965.

The valley of the Volga river.

Ernst Thälmann docked in Yaroslavl

Ernest Telman

Lounging on the upper deck

Sunbathing.

At a cafe

Fine Soviet dining

Sunset on the dance floor

Of course not all ships were that glamorous.

Voroshilov timber trawler

A sign of its times: such beauties disappeared in 1980s

This was the way to move timber in smaller volumes.

A firefighter

On a ferry

M189 Steamship

Uglich-town ferry terminal

Samara (then Kuibyshev) ferry terminal

Samara (then Kuibyshev) embankment. A recital before the departure.

Bon voyage!

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Moscow Underground Without Stalin — See the Gaps

eugenia — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 06:26:24 +0000

The Moscow underground metro system, opened in 1935, is well known for its ornate decorations, outstanding architecture and artwork. Most of that art is in the socialist realism style, which has its purpose of reinforcing the goals of socialism and communism. In 1932 Joseph Stalin introduced the decree “On the Reconstruction of Literary and Art Organizations”, thus making socialist realism state policy. Understandably, Stalin became the face of this movement — due to strict censorship rules, artists had to obey in order to avoid the punishment. So the majestic Moscow metropolitan system had bearings of many statues, portraits, mosaics of the man himself.

However, after his death, the Thaw and altogether the disintegration of the cult of his persona, images of Stalin were removed — no longer he was the face behind the socialism goals. Please read on to see the scars on the body of the finest example of the Soviet architecture — the Moscow Underground System.

Kurskaya Circle Station, 1944. Stalin by Tomskiy. After the statue was moved, the place was taken by a kiosk.

A mosaic: three women are embroidering a portrait of Stalin. Belorusskaja Station.

Later Stalin was replaced by the Emblem of the Red Labour Flag.

The trumpets are praising noone: the part of the mosaic with the face of Stalin was removed. Paveletskaya Station

This station, opened in 1944, was initially called Stalinskaya. In 1961 it was renamed as Semenovskaya.

Semenovskaya Station nowadays.

Semenovskaya, inside. Another portrait gone, not much polishing given.

Dobryninskaya Station, open in 1950 — Yuri Gararin was a teenager then and could not be portrayed as yet. However he replaced Stalin in mid196s there.

Elektrozavodskaya Station: at the back wall there used to be an ornament with a portrait of Stalin.

Elektrozavodskaya Station, nowadays.

Partizanskaya Staton. Above the statue is Stalin’s portrait and a quote “To defend our country is the most sacred duty of every citizen”.

Partizanskaya Staton. Now both the quote and the portrait have been removed

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Christian Dior in Moscow: a Fleeting Sense of Happiness

eugenia — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 08:52:24 +0000

1959. The official photo shoot, images courtesy of LIFE archives (Howard Sochurek)

The Khrushchev’s Thaw was to bring change to many aspects of the Soviet life, and fashion was one of them. The decision to allow the Soviet fashion designers to learn off their French counterparts was made as high as at the government level, which implicitly put fashion above politics or international ideological regimes. The colour of the Soviet Union, a generic grey, was about to be mixed up with the motley and lithe palette of the French fashion.

The fashion house of Christian Dior was chosen for many reasons. Firstly it was the epitome of elegance and style, defining the haute couture all over the globe. Secondly and most importantly, the Dior fashion was considered to be classic, regardless of the season or collection — and this suited the Soviet clothesmakers immensely. A “classic” cut of a suit would be considered “ideologically neutral” by the Soviets, as well as stable and practical. It would also mean lower production costs, as after having produced a set of patterns, the clothesmakers could go on releasing the same clothes for years.

Girls just want to have fun!

Full of life.

The statue of Liberty, French style.

Out in the streets, mesmerising the simple folk.

GUM — the biggest and the most upmarket Moscow department store.

Buying flowers from street vendors.

After 1957, the teams of Russian fashion designers regularly visited the fashion houses of Christian Dior, Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Lanvin. Special attention was also paid to the art of shop window displays: in Paris, no two were the same; in Moscow, it was a sad, standartised, withered look. In short, a lot was to be taken home.

This reminds me of the Sex and the City episode, season five — girls partying with sailors.

I wish those girls had twitter — I wonder what they were thinking!

Looking swell, Dolly!

An alien on the street

Three graces

The wow factor

However, things were so much behind in the USSR. The implementation of new styles and techniques was inhibited by the overall conservatism of the state. The decorative elements of dresses were often omitted (Russian women were considered to be above cheap frills), and the cuts were simplified not to let the seduction slip in. The magazines were scarce and of Polish or Czech origin, if one was lucky. The clothes on sale were identical and sad-looking– it was labelled practical. Overall, despite the efforts, the French fashion had very little influence over the Russian fashion until the very late 1980s.

Also at GUM

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An Italian Affair: Vyatka vs Vespa

eugenia — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 00:20:42 +0000

After the Second World War in Italy the carmakers realised that it would be a long time before everyone who needed a car would be able to afford one. So the smart Italians switched to designing and producing motor scooters: these light, affordable, ergonomic Vespas, a low cost product available to everybody.

Needless to say, Vespa was the brand of the time (and arguably still is) and it grew more and more popular across Europe, until, in early 1950s, it reached the USSR. All of a sudden this youthful and cheery means of transportation coincided with the Khrushchev Thaw and it was decided to launch the Soviet line of motor scooters. Machinery wise, it was viable: since the war times, a few factories had been idle, so it was only a matter of design.

Modern girl with a vintage scooter. She is probably gloomy over the petrol price.

The design couldn’t have been an easier problem to fix: Europe was going through a real scooter boom and, since the copyright laws were not as aggressive as they are nowadays, it was decided to simply copy some. The choice was there but, after much consideration, Vespa was chosen as the prototype.

Everybody loved a Vespa.

The decision was made at the level as high as the Cabinet of Ministers. The designers and engineers were given six months to produce the first models. Which was timely achieved, and in early 1957 the first scooters – called Vyatkas – by the name of the factory situated in the Vyatka region – were introduced to the market.

One of the first Vyatka models, 1957

Both externally and on the inside, Vyatka was a very close copy of its Italian counterpart. However, at a closer look, the Soviet scooter would lose a few points to the Vespa. Vespa was 16 kgs lighter (104, not 120); 30kmh faster (100, not 70); and it had more power (8 hps vs 4.5).

Vyatka Logo: looking familiar? Imagine the lawsuits in our days! Back then, the Italians opted to pronounce the supremacy of their scooters that even the Communists were copying.

Unsurprisingly, people liked Vyatkas – they became very popular very fast. Younger drivers would take it on long intercity trips, and every now and then a female driver would be spotted. It was meant to provide the comfort of a car for the price of a bike — well, almost, as the slogan stated.

The paintwork was so bad, it often started peeling within the year of purchase. But it was still a reliable vehicle.

As the time went by, the scooter was being perfected: the glove box became key-lockable; the brake pedal was shifted under the floor; and the power went up to 5.5 hps. The price was about 350 rubles, which was good value for money.

The dashboard. It certainly never went up to 140.

The later model of 1974, Vyatka-Electron, was equipped with a new type of ignition, an electronic one, copied off the Japanese car makers. This allowed the scooter to become more powerful (up tp 7.5hps), faster (up to 80 kph) and more economical, too (less than 3litres per 100kms). The price also dropped to 280 rubles, which made it affordable even for students.

Vyatka-Electron. Quite fancy, isn’t it?

Nevertheless, the popularity of Vyatkas was steadily declining. Nowadays we would call it bad marketing policies, but then really it was a matter of supply and demand in the planned Soviet economy. Even the numerous promotional advertorials in the automobile magazines did not help: by 1979, the production was stopped. It took a good decade to sell out the excess stock of Vyatkas, and another one to market off the parts. Altogether there was made about 1.7mln Vyatka scooters in these 23 years.

Of course the Soviet scooters never stopped with Vyatka. There was the Tuirst scooter, named after the factory in the town of Tula, later on there were Java and Ural, each with a wide range of models.

Tula scooter, 1961.

Yet the Vyatka story is another finest example of how fantastically inefficient the USSR and its policies were. The Italian Vespa is still a funky brand and a great vehicle. The Russian Vyatka ceased to exist, and it is more of a collectable item now.

A restored Vyatka.

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