It has been a good while since we decided to broaden our format a little and introduce some new exciting series for our blog. So today we are introducing our Poetic Tuesday: every Tuesday we will (try to) post a remarkable Soviet poem, most probably on a fortnightly basis.  This particular poem, Winter Night by Nobel Prize for Literature of 1958, the author of Doctor Zhivago, Boris Pasternak has been hand picked to open this collection. We thank Andrey Kneller for the translation. The best way to enjoy it, we suggest, is by clicking Read More.., then play the youtube video and when the words begin, read the poem. The video features Winter Night read in Russian by Boris Vetrov, violin by Secret Garden. It is truly moving — we hope you enjoy it as much as we do. Thanks for being such a wonderful audience — you are a pleasure to write for.

The blizzards all across the earth
Have swept uncurbed
The candle burned upon the desk
The candle burned

As in the summer, moths are drawn
Towards the flame
The pale snowflakes soared
Towards the pane

Upon the glass, bright snowy rings
And streaks were churned
The candle burned upon the desk
The candle burned

On the illumined ceiling
Shadows swayed
A cross of arms, a cross of legs
A cross of fate

Two boots fell down on the floor
With crashing sound
And from the crown tears of wax
Dripped on the gown

And nothing in the snowy haze
Could be discerned
The candle burned upon the desk
The candle burned

A gentle draft blew on the flame,
And in temptation,
It raised two wings into a cross
As if an angel

It swept and swept all through the month
This frequently occurred
The candle burned upon the desk
The candle burned

Boris Pasternak

Related posts:

1. Best of Winter 2009–2010

Remember our post about  Slava Kurilov, the guy who jumped off the cruise ship near the Philip­pines islands — and swam to freedom for three consecutive days, completely alone at sea? Our today’s post tells a story just as remarkable — a young Russian surgeon Leonid Rogozov, stranded in  Antarctica with the Sixth Soviet Antarctic Expedition, in 1961 performs a self-operation: under local anesthesia, surrounded by a bunch of guys whose only experience with medicine was sitting in a dentist’s chair, the 27th years old doctor removes his own appendix.

rogozovappendectomy2

Dr Rogozov had a very promising start, but had left for the expedition shortly before having to present his thesis on new methods of operating cancer. He was the only medical person in the expedition, and in the downtime he also performed driver’s and meteorologist’s duties. Six weeks after the arrival to the base, he started feeling ill: weakness came, then nausea, then abdominal pain along with body  temperature rising. The diagnosis was easy: it was clearly a case of acute appendicitis — but the closest medical help was about 800 km away. Dr Rogozov wrote in his diary:

I did not sleep at all last night.  It hurts like the devil!  A snowstorm whipping through my soul, wailing like a hundred jackals.  Still no obvious symptoms that perforation is imminent, but an oppressive feeling of foreboding hangs over me… This is it… I have to think through the only possible way out:  to operate on myself… It’s almost impossible… but I can’t just fold my arms and give up.

Soviet Antarctic Expedition site four years prior to Dr Rogozov’s events

All the available conservative treatment was applied (antibiotics, local cooling), but the general condition was getting worse.And so the preparations for the surgery began. In his diary  he describes these events in  plain, almost emotionless language: how the guys found out, how he told them what was about to happen, what they were to do. Following Dr Rogozov’z instructions, the team members assembled an improvised operating theatre. They moved everything out of the room, leaving only the bed, two tables, and a table lamp. The aerologists Fedor Kabot and Robert Pyzhov flooded the room thoroughly with ultraviolet lighting and sterilised the bed linen and instruments.

In the event that Rogozov lost consciousness, he instructed his team how to inject him with drugs using the syringes he had prepared. Then he gave the main helpers a surgical wash himself, disinfected their hands, and put on their rubber gloves for them. And so it began: with the team’s meteorologist holding the retractors, a driver to hold the mirror and other scientists passing surgical implements, he sat in a reclined position and cut out his own appendix under local anesthetic.

The operation went on for two hours.

One of his assistants, the station director Vladislav Gerbovich, later recalled in his diary:

When Leonid had made the incision and was manipulating his own innards as he removed the appendix, his intestine gurgled, which was highly unpleasant for us; it made one want to turn away, flee, not look—but I kept my head and stayed. He himself was calm and focused on his work, but sweat was running down his face and he frequently asked us to wipe his forehead … By the end of the surgery he was very pale and obviously tired, but he finished everything off.

Half way through the operation Dr Rogozov passed out, but was able to continue.

halfway through the surgery the assistants asked for a photo camera to be brought in

Once  operation was complete, he took sleeping tablets and lay down for a rest. The next day his temperature was 38.1°C; he described his condition as “moderately poor” but overall he felt better.  He continued taking antibiotics. After five days his temperature was normal; after a week he removed the stitches. Within two weeks he was able to return to his normal duties and to his diary.

Those very instruments — on a museum display nowadays

A remarkable extract from Doctor’s diary:

I worked without gloves. It was hard to see. The mirror helps, but it also hinders—after all, it’s showing things backwards. I work mainly by touch. The bleeding is quite heavy, but I take my time—I try to work surely. Opening the peritoneum, I injured the blind gut and had to sew it up. Suddenly it flashed through my mind: there are more injuries here and I didn’t notice them … I grow weaker and weaker, my head starts to spin. Every 4–5 minutes I rest for 20–25 seconds. Finally, here it is, the cursed appendage! With horror I notice the dark stain at its base. That means just a day longer and it would have burst and …

At the worst moment of removing the appendix I flagged: my heart seized up and noticeably slowed; my hands felt like rubber. Well, I thought, it’s going to end badly. And all that was left was removing the appendix …

And then I realised that, basically, I was already saved.

Dr Leonid Rogozov

About a year later he left Antarctica for home: 29 May 1962 the ship docked at Leningrad harbour. The next day Dr Rogozov returned to his work at the clinic — and shortly after he successfully defended his dissertation. He worked and taught in the Department of General Surgery of the First Leningrad Medical Institute. He never returned to the Antarctic and died in St Petersburg, as Leningrad had by then become, on 21 September 2000.

“A job like any other, a life like any other”

This self operation was probably the first such successful act undertaken out of hospital settings, with no possibility of outside help, and without any other medical professional around. It remains an example of determination and the human will for life. In later years Rogozov himself rejected glorification of his deed. When thoughts like these were put to him, he usually answered with a smile and the words: “A job like any other, a life like any other”.

Related posts:

1. The case of The Kremlin Doctors and its Consequences: the State of Anti-Semitism

The Communal Bridge, back then (late 1970s)

The Communal Bridge, nowadays.

The unofficial capital of Siberia, the city of Novosibirsk was founded in 1893 with the initial population of only 8,000 people. By the time of the Great October Socialist Revolution of 1917,  it grew to the population size of 80,000. The name, literally meaning New Siberian City, was adopted in 1926 — and since then, the town had become to grow and prosper.By 1962, Novosibirsk became the youngest city in the world to have the population of 1 million — it only took about 70 years. Now it is an important industrial, cultural and socioeconomic hub of the country.

We realise that today’s post is a little different from our usual format, as the modern pictures of the city are, well, modern and not of the Soviet epoch. It is still nice to see, however, how the city has been changing over the past hundred years — and the old photographs are still full of life and very easy on the eye.

Apartment block nicknamed “The house of porters”. Late 1930s

“The house of porters” now

The Architecture Academy, 1929.

The Architecture Academy now.

The Train Terminal. Early 1930s.

The Train Terminal nowadays.

Now the three images of the City Trade Complex.

Back in those days, the city was called Novo-Nikolaevsk

The City Trade Complex in late 1920s

The Labour Day Parade, 1938.

Still one of the prettiest buildings around.

The Siberian Military HQ. 1940s = please note the horse carriage.

The Siberian Military HQ building, now.

Stalin Street (later renamed as Lenin St). 1938.

Lenin St Now.

Another view of then-Stalin St. Please note the green building of the Opera and Ballet Theatre.

A modern close up of the Opera and Ballet Theatre — it is the largest theatre of the kind in Europe.

The city centre. Note the parking lot for the coachmen.

The same street photographed from a similar spot much later — a modern photo.

And finally some shots of the main street of Novosibirsk — the Krasnyi (“Red”) Road.

1927.

Exactly the same spot — now

The house of the merchant Mashtakov. Late 1920s.

The house of the merchant Mashtakov nowadays.

1960s

1960–1965

The Krasnyi Road now.

Most images are courtesy of Egor Egoshin, and we are very grateful for that.

Related posts:

1. Best of Winter 2009–2010
2. How Khrushchev Had Killed the “Vampire”
3. May, 1st: Soviet Labour Day.

Joseph E. Davies was the second Ambassador to represent the United States in the Soviet Union in 1937–1938.

His daughter, the twenty years old Emlen Knight Davies, took some pictures of the surroundings. These images, courtesy of her private collection, were on display in Moscow for the anniversary of the Spaso House — the official diplomatic residence.

These 19 images portray Moscow in a slightly different view — the entire pre-war epoch ended was just about to end, and those times, still full of life and character, still look very charming.

Emlen Knight Davies, at the age of 20 (ish)

From left: Joseph Davies, Joseph Stalin, Vyacheslav Molotov.

Diplomatic Pass, Emlen Knight Davies, who is granted all diplomatic rights and privileges as the holder of such a document.

Spaso House, the official diplomatic residency of the American Embassador

The celebratory march of November 7th 1937

TSUM shop, just before opening

“Communism holds no serious threat to the United States. Friendly relations in the future may be of great general value”, Joseph E. Davies assessed.

The parents (Embassador and his wife) are going to a dinner party to M. Litvinov, the Minister of Foreign Affairs.

The Embassy’s staff team, in front of the Spaso House

The view from the second floor of the Spaso House

The park in front of the residence

The doorman nicknamed Two-Bearded and the Embassador’s Packard

Two Bearded, closer up

The Embassador with the wife, out on Leninskie Gory

The Independence Day Ball

The Masquerade Ball at the Spaso House

Emlen is learning to ice skate

Emlen with father, 1937

Emlen Knight Davies, at the age of 92, 2008

Related posts:

1. Best of Winter 2009–2010
2. The 50th Anniversary of the Soviet Union in Old American Mags
3. Moscow Underground Without Stalin — See the Gaps

Here is a fine collection of images of Moscow winters, dating from 1920s till 1991. Sadly many places portrayed on these photographs are gone now, just like the Soviet Union itself, yet lest we forget.  Please read on to see the image of the first set of traffic lights in Moscow CBD in late 1930s, which was operated by a specially trained person; or the largest freshwater outdoor  swimming pool in the world -  as well as people, wooden houses, old boulevards covered with the virgin snow.

1925. A private house on the bank of the Tarakanovka river

1991. Swimming pool “Moscow”, no longer exists.

1968. “Fili” stadium, the opening of Winter Olympics between the dwellers of the nearby apartment blocks

1947. Moscow central.

1960. Rozhdestvensky Boulevard.

1960. The Red Square skiing

1960. The Sverdlov Square.

Late 1940s. Leningradsky Road

1059. A kiosk not far from “Borovitskaya” Metropolitan station.

Mid1950s. Kolomenskoe.

1959. The Kremlin Embankment.

1959. The Sokolniki Park

1959. Gogol Boulevard.

Late 1930s. The very first set of traffic lights in Moscow central.

Late 1940s. Dorogomilovo

1959. The Arbat Square.

1959. A food market, next to the “Dairy” pavillion

1959. Next to National Hotel

1962. Ice hockey match on the Novodevichy Pond.

Close to 1920. The Red Square.

1976. Phys Ed lesson, Mt Poklonnaya

1959. Next to Metropole Hotel.

1959. Next to Metropole Hotel

Late 1950s. The contrasts of Koutuzovsky Street.

1959. Bersenevsky Embankment.

1959. Manezh.

1959. Moscow State University

1959. Yaroslavsky Railway Station.

1957. Petrovka Street

1959. Chistye Prudy Boulevard.

1959. Vasilievsky Slope.

1990. Varvarka Street

These images courtesy of Carl Mydans, Edward Clark, Marc Riboud, Thomas D. Mcavoy. As always, please click on the magnifying icon to see the images in detail. Follow us on twitter and stay tuned. Thanks a bunch!

Related posts:

1. Best of Winter 2009–2010
2. Photos of Moscow and Surroundings by Marc Riboud, 1960s
3. Photos of Moscow and Surroundings by Marc Riboud, 1960s

Just a very pleasant collection of photos from a private family archive. All photos were taken in 1950s — 1960s, in the streets of Yaroslavl, a small town not far from Moscow. Simple things — outdoor sports, fishing, swimming, enjoying the music or spending time with the family — these 38 photos are relishing small pleasures and bringing a smile to a face.

As always, click on the mag­ni­fy­ing glass icon to see the pho­tos in detail. All photos are courtesy of Sergey Kulikov, a granddad of one of our contributors. He is 86 years old now, and photography has been his hobby all along. Let us know which ones you like — or if you have photos in your family archive which you’d like to share.

Waiting for the play off.

The first half

I am going to make it!

The start line

Fishing in the bay

The big one.

Full of hope.

In the street

First ride after the winter

The team spirit

Oh those icy Russian women!

Spring: sailing the wooden ships onto the puddle water

The ice skate rink

Winter games

Dashing through the snow

Close up

A second hand book stall

The town of Yaroslavl chess championship. 1964.

The October Kids inauguration — see our article on them a couple of posts back.

The October kid.

Like father like daughter

Us or them!

Allow me

Summertime

Yyyes!

Two friends

Orchestra’s little helper

Drumming away

An aspiring trombonist

Spring carnival

Deep breath in

In the street

Yaroslavl in paintings

A young artist

The camera behind the camera behind the camera..

Girls’ stuff

They won’t make it without me

Let’s fix that now

Related posts:

1. 21+ Depressing Photos of Post-Revolutionary Russia by Arkady Shaikhet
2. Photos of Moscow and Surroundings by Marc Riboud, 1960s
3. Experimental Soviet Homemade Photography

The Announcement of the Soviet Government. By Vladimir Serov, 1918.

The Soviet Union was officially created in 1922, however, if there was a date which could be considered as a birthday of the USSR, that would have had to be November 7th of 1917  — this was the day when in St Petersburg the Bolsheviks — the organised military revolutionaries, who later became the Communist Party of the USSR — came to power. The Russian Provisional Government which were the head of the country after the Tsar Nicholas II had resigned, was overthrown and the Soviets, taking the government buildings one by one, had finally captured the town.

The October Coup, as it was initially called, had later been renamed as we know it now -  the Great October Socialist Revolution. Many attribute this change in terminology from a coup  to a revolution to have a propaganda underline, as revolution is certainly perceived as having more weight and grandiosity that coup. Interestingly, the term “October” is no mistake: the revolutionary events did take place on the 25th October 1917, yet the calendar style was changed in 1918 from the traditional Julian calendar to the Gregorian style calendar. Thus 25 October 1917 became 7 November 1917, yet the title — the October Revolution — was left unchanged.

The first anniversary. 1918.

It is hard to explain briefly what had lead to these drastic events of 1917. The country was exhausted after the First World War. In March 1917 Tsar Nicholas II abdicated, and the Provisional Government came into power, although many refused to recognise it.  The country was in crisis on the economic, social and political levels. Workers of many towns were on mass strikes, demanding better pay and better conditions. In towns the rates of unemployment were rising, while in countryside peasants were rebelling against landowners. The total bankruptcy was inevitable, which was odd, given that less that ten years prior to it, it was one of the most strongest economies in the world. Food shortages were becoming more and more frequent, and numerous conspiracies against the government began. So it was no surprise when the Bolsheviks’ Central Committee voted 10–2 for a resolution saying that “an armed uprising is inevitable, and that the time for it is fully ripe”.

Vladimir Lenin, the brain behind the October Revolution, and the face most often associated with it.

The Provisional Government was residing in the Winter Palace and, when the fall of it was announced, a decree was adopted, giving the power to the Union of Workers’, Soldiers’ and Peasants’ Deputies, thus ratifying the Revolution. The peasants were officially granted the land. The workers were allowed to take control over the factories and now manage them as they saw fit. The banks were nationalised,and all private bank accounts were confiscated. The Church was outlawed, and its properties were seized and later redistributed as cinema theatres, leisure clubs, or any recreational venues. All foreign debts were repudiated, and the wages fixed at an artificially high level. Vladimir Lenin was declared as the head of the State, and the long journey to Communism had officially began.

Seizing of the Winter Palace in St Petersburg by Bolshevik Baltic Sailors. The movie October, 1927.

The Bolsheviks viewed themselves as representing an alliance of workers and peasants and memorialized that understanding with the Hammer and Sickle on the flag and coat of arms of the Soviet Union. So the day was an official public holiday and the tradition to celebrate it with a parade, people marching in the streets with red flags and carrying red balloons and carnations — the official flower of the Revolution — had lingered for almost 70 years. The Red Square access roads in Moscow were re-constructed specifically for the November 7th annual Military parade showing off the latest developments in the Soviet weaponry.

Moscow 1941.

Not even the Military parade of 1941 was skipped, the year Germany invaded into Russia.  The Soviet Army tanks were moving that day across the Red Square and straight to the army front. That act itself was as important as a large military operation as the Soviet people were showing their desperate sublime heroism. It is believed that the same day, November 7th 1941, was planned by Hitler as the day of the grand victory march of German troops through the Red Square having conquered Moscow, but it didn’t happen.

Probably one of the most famous images of the Soviet power –tanks in the Red Square in 1941.

Stalin gave a truly inspiration speech that day.

The tradition to commemorate the day of November 7th was spread all over the country. Any town — no matter how big or small — would participate. The attendance often was compulsory.

A parade in the small town of Lyvny, 1954.

Small town of Volzhsky. 1978.

Small town of Usinsk. 1979.

By the end of 1970s the enthusiasm about this day started to cease. A great deal of years passed since the original Revolution and people stopped feeling that excited about the Soviet state.  The celebration march of the Working People was now enforced by factories and other organisations: it was no longer voluntary.  This military parade was not as popular anymore, the new generation of the Soviets was not interested in  weaponry and the great world power of the Soviet Union. However, from the outside it still looked the same and it was almost impossible to register the tiny changes in the  mood.

Town of Ufa, circa 1980.

Town of Ufa, circa 1980.

1986. Town unknown, but could have taken place anywhere.

Small town of Volzhsky. 1986.

Small town of Lyvny. 1988.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union the first Russian president Boris Yeltsin officially renamed the holiday in 1994, giving it a completely different meaning. November 7th became the Day of the Liberation of Moscow from the Polish occupation in the year 1612. The next year he came up with a new name and changed it to the Day of People’s Unity. Almost 10 years later, in the year 2004, Vladimir Putin changed the name again, bringing it back to the original roots: it became the Day of 1941 Military Parade on the Red Square in the city of Moscow in the memory of the 24th anniversary of the Great October Socialist Revolution. It stopped being a day off, rather,  the Day of People’s Unity sprawled as a new holiday, celebrated nowadays on November the 4th. Who knows what the future holds for this day now.

Related posts:

1. The Patriotic Education in the USSR. Part One: the October Kids.
2. Best of Winter 2009–2010
3. We Wish You a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

A singing class, Moscow, 1960s

This is our third 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.  Here is the first lot — and here is the second one. 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!

Museum, Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Tasty and Healthy Ice Cream, Moscow, 1960s

Olympic Games in Moscow, 1980

Related posts:

1. Photos of Moscow and Surroundings by Marc Riboud, 1960s
2. Photos of Moscow and Surroundings by Marc Riboud, 1960s
3. More pictures of Soviet Moscow 1960s by Mark Riboud

This is our second post devoted to the outstanding French photographer Marc Riboud who traveled extensively throughout the Soviet Union in the 1960s. His images captured an array of everyday life episodes from the lives of the Soviet people — today it is a collection of images of people out in the streets. The first lot can be found here. As always, click on the magnifying glass to see the photos in detail.

Please follow us on twitter and stay tuned. Thank you!

Moscow 1960

Moscow 1967. The military parade on the Red Square, young soldiers.

Moscow 1960. The queue at the Lenin Mausoleum, Red Square.Back then, it also hosted Stalin’s body and was known as Lenin and Stalin Mausoleum.

Moscow 1960. Winter Blizzard.

Moscow, 1960. The snow workers on the Red Square.

The parade for the 50th anniversary of the Great October Socialist Revolution, 1967.

The 50th anniversary parade, a face in the crowd.

Another Red Square parade, this time with rockets.

Winter portraiture.

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Moscow, 1960s

Related posts:

1. Photos of Moscow and Surroundings by Marc Riboud, 1960s
2. A Glance at the Soviet Lifestyle, Captured by Marc Riboud.
3. More pictures of Soviet Moscow 1960s by Mark Riboud

Remember the photograph of a young American girl with a flower who confronts the soldiers with bayonets, outside the Pentagon during the 1967 anti-Vietnam march? This prominent image, which is said to help to turn public opinion against the war in Vietnam, was taken by one of the most influential photographers of our time, Marc Riboud. Marc Riboud, a cosmopolitan Frenchman, had visited extensively across the world and, in 1960–1963, visited the Soviet Union. His photos are very simple yet thought provoking, and in the course of events of the deceased country, hold a very special meaning. The Soviet epoch is long gone, but the memories are preserved through his photographs. Have a look.

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

Moscow, 1960

This is the first series of Marc’s photographs in our blog, please let us know how you like it. The photos above are all from the winter 1960, more summer times to come. If you would like to clarify what is on the photos — do not hesitate to question.  Click on the magnifying glass icon for a more detailed view of the full sized images. Please retweet and stay tuned.

Related posts:

1. Photos of Moscow and Surroundings by Marc Riboud, 1960s
2. A Glance at the Soviet Lifestyle, Captured by Marc Riboud.
3. More pictures of Soviet Moscow 1960s by Mark Riboud