ulitsa O.G.I.

Can't quite believe how many new sights/sites I have fitted into this trip. N and I took me to the Ulitsa OGI bar, which I thought had closed down, but it is still there, nicely hidden in a yard. This is sooo famous, designed by one of Russia's most radical art-architects, Alexander Brodsky, and I think one of his best pieces of interior work, being both strong conceptually (as part  of his ongoing commentary on the difficulties of making architecture in the Soviet Union/Russa) and a comfortable, easy to occupy bar.

I managed to take quite poor photographs of this interior -so go to Yuri Palmin Photography for great pictures of both this and other Brodsky projects. 

ragout

One of many wonderful 'last meals' before I leave, this one with L and friends, at Ragout. She is the most uber-trendy person I know (she knows all the best London cocktail bars) so as you can guess, the food at this place was gorgeous.

domestic interiors of the Soviet 70s

There is also lots of very contemporary design work at ARCHMoscow, enough to make the small stand showing photographs and furniture from Moscow 70s domestic interiors (real flats - still unchanged) feel quite eccentric. So, of course, I loved it. Partly because it reflects the Soviet standard furniture sets that I have in my own flat here (and which remain ubiquitous in older apartments) and partly because it shows a kind of careful celebration of, and obsessive interest in, both the previous and continuing lives of Moscow residents.

a fancy food shop

Every time I go to the famous wonderfully over-the-top neo-baroque-style food shop called Eliseevskiy on Tverskaya I attempt to take a decent photograph of its lurid and artificial glamour - along with the other tourists snapping away  - but the results are always unimpressive. (This is, by the way, where I found the pink and green easter display, shown below.)

I go a lot because ... and this will only be relevant to a tiny proportion of the population ... it is the only place in Moscow I have found that does gluten-free foods; well actually just g-f plain biscuits, but better than nothing.

lift guy

I have been trying surreptitiously to take a photograph of this guy for ages. He lives in our goods lift at work. Well of course he doesn't actually live there, and I cant tell quite how often he is 'at home', but it looks like his job is just to sit in the lift at all times. He doesn't help with loading and unloading (which anyway doesn't happen very often) but he does have the minimum comforts of life - except any daylight, of course.

I guess because wage levels here remain so low, bosses can afford to employ people to do, basically, nothing.

lift

And whilst I am grumbling, I had to avoid the film crew yet again on my block staircase putting up yet more mock graffitti (remember I live in a trendy slum) and the lift was broken as usual.

Actually, what really annoys me about the lift is that it exemplifies the problems of Soviet design (and, probably, post-Soviet maintenance). You will note the lift buttons go up to 9. This block has only ever had 7 floors. A small thing, but somehow immensely irritating.

10-of-the-best: no. 2 State Kremlin Palace

In the late 1950s and early 60s Khrushchev built a massive, modernist, glass and concrete 'palace' for communist party meetings, right within the historic Kremlin. The scale is monumental, with seating for 6,000 people, and not surprisingly the building is not well-liked, given that a considerable part of an older Russian heritage was destroyed to enable its construction.

But I love it. This is not so much because of the building design itself (although there are some fabulously classic Soviet murals) but more about the sheer scale of the whole 'mass' experience. I first visited in the 1970s to see the Bolshi Ballet perform, and was literally swept away; first by the huge crowds pouring down symmetrical sets of stairs to divest themselves of coats; and then by the same crowds moving upwards to the main concert hall itself.

This experience is repeated at the interval; this time everyone surges upwards to the largest room I have ever seen, where buffet-style, these 6,000 people simultaneously snack on Russian champagne and slices of bread and cheese/caviar/meat (at least that's what it feels like). Have visited much more recently, and enjoyed it in much the same way.

I should note that none of my Russian friends and colleagues seem to share this same enthusiasm, nor many of my English workmates; that seeing an event here is not cheap; and that it tends to the extremely popularist - right now they are running Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance. But, well, to me, attending an event here is still a great way to capture something of the country's Soviet past.  The proper post-Soviet name is the State Kremlin Palace (GKD/гкд in Russian), although most people still know it as the Kremlin Palace of Congresses. Moscow-in-your-pocket is an easy place to start to see what's on and this is usually a good site for buying tickets.

and a cafe

The other good thing about leaving by the north metro exit at Mayakovskaya is that if you turn right and walk a couple of blocks you will find the Respublika bookshop and cafe. It is a place that many  Muscovites like because of its contemporary feel. It sells art and design books, music vinyl and CDs and some designerly gifts. It also stocks a rather eccentric small collection of English fiction and - which sadly makes me very excited - is one of the few places in Moscow you can pick up magazines in English (and some other European languages).

The cafe on the first floor has been recently renovated and there are misc. art and design books in Russian and English to browse. And it has a mirrored ceiling.

grey (2)

Spent more time than I wanted in this small blank room at Moscow Domededovo airport yesterday. It is the Consul, on the wrong side of passport control, where I arrived quite late in the evening to be told that my existing work visa (dated to May 2011) was no longer valid; the ins and outs of which are quite dull to recount. After some negotiations  and the payment of a new fee I left with a new - single-entry 10 day - work visa. This is because multiple entry work visas are not issued on first entry (despite the fact that my old passport was already filling up with quite a number of multiple entry visas, and I already had a up-to-date visa.) So now another visa will have to be obtained to allow me to stay longer.

I realise this is nothing compared to the Guardian corrrespondent Luke Harding's experiences recently (when he was not only put in a cell but also deported before being allowed back a week later), so I am not complaining, only giving it as an example of some of those 'different' aspects of Russia.  Maybe people coming the other way - into England - have similar stories to tell about getting into the UK.

And, mentioning Luke Harding, I am sorry that he and his family are going back to England for now; although this is entirely for selfish reasons as I have still never managed to go on one of Phoebe Taplin's amazing looking walks. I do keep most of the double-page spreads she has written in the Moscow News, suggesting places to go and things to see. She promises to return, so lets hope so. 

double doors

I must stop  extrapolating from my neighbours' behaviours to Russian habits and tendencies in general. This is not only because of the poor logic involved in making such assumptions, but also because things here continue to be a little eccentric and singular.

For example, I now have a new, new front door.  I thought this was because the initial one was a rather tinny Chinese-made version which was going to be replaced because it was not secure enough. But, no, what I now have is another door immediately inside the old new one - so immediately inside that the door handles easily become entangled.

To this must be added the fact that the the handle on the new (inside) door does not work very well, so tends to get jammed. The new door, it transpires, is not for extra security - because the key has not been fitted properly - but for extra warmth and acoustic separation. So getting in and out has got a lot more exciting.

And in more neighbour news, I got invited next door last night to see Es collections. Tropical fish, plates from around the world, fridge magnets, coins and paper money both old and current. And a request to help obtain more of the latter. His flat is absolutely stuffed, not just with collections and ornaments but also with furniture; moving around is almost everywhere done sideways.

christmas time again

And whilst I am doing GUM, just thought you might like to see the Christmas decorations. Different from last year. Just.

wedding jam

GUM is one of the particular places of choice for wedding parties to go to have their photographs taken. I don't know why this Saturday was so popular, but there were so many different groups they kept bumping into each other. Very enjoyable to watch.

minor improvements

I think I got rather smug (and rather snug) in my previous flats, both of which were modern enough to have proper double glazing. And I think I talked a lot about how indoors in a Moscow winter you only need tee-shirts and underwear.

Well, now I am in a proper Soviet flat, with warped timber windows and a gap wide enough between the double panes for the air in there to get nicely chilled. So, I have finally started to need jumpers indoors. My very sweet landlord turned up this evening (with the helpful neighbour) to implement one of the standard Russian solutions to this problem - a thin, but slightly padded sticky tape around all the joints of the inner window frames.

Whilst he was here we also talked cleaning. I am just no good with those short sweeping brushes made out of dried straw or sticks;  can't seem to get the knack, nor to lose my desire for a more sophisticated broom-like or electrical device. So I have been lent a small vacuum-cleaner for now - with the promise that we will 'refresh' the rugs by beating them (with aforesaid brushes) at a later date. This, it turns out, happens outside and so just waits for a thicker layer of snow as a proper base.

upstairs

This is my new living room. I think I may be seeing a lot of my landlady, she keeps inviting me to eat in their flat upstairs, or dropping by with something. This evening had a very relaxed but long-winded filling in of the lease agreement with her, her husband and grown-up son. Very nice people. Food. More food. Much admiring of her flat, which is full of lovely and historic bric-a-brac. Much moving of the large black and white cat that spent most of its time lounging across the paperwork. Many attempts to persuade my (Russian translating) friend that she should get to know the landlady’s son better. And something I really enjoy – that like me these people tend to lounge around indoors in housecoats, track suits and other items very close to pyjamas. I have now been visited several times by the husband in his tracksuit and dressing gown. That, at least, makes me feel very at home.

new flat

Slept last night in the flat in borrowed bedding, so have been to collect my stuff from work and begun to make the place my own. The building is from the late 1920s, initially built as a hotel, and then converted into collective housing. Which I guess explains the huge stair landings. The landlady’s story, if I understand it correctly, is that her family owned the flat originally but were cultural intellectuals who were cleared out in the 30s to be replaced by poorer families, many living in each room. Then at some stage she and her parents were able to move back and so how she has both her own place and this one (she also seems to own some other apartments elsewhere for letting out.) Clearly an entrepreneur and a survivor; she and her husband – a chemical engineer – seem to have done all right for themselves. Like ex-council estates in London, the wider block appears to be inhabited by many different kinds of people, including a regular gathering of drunks on the stairs, who it must be said are perfectly friendly if a bit messy.

new

Familiar strangenesses are multiplying. Went immediately to view a flat that my Russian colleagues have found me (via many, many email exchanges of interiors/locations/prices). Prices seem to have shot up, although it may be of course that I demand to live relatively central. Anyway, this place is old and furnished traditionally, but in a fantastic location just minutes walk from work. The landlady and her husband live immediately upstairs, so initial discussions also involve soup. The plumbing is ancient and basic but the floors are wooden, the windows big, the rooms of a good size and the view green, so I like it. It is also very cold – being as we are in that transitional period with chillier, more autumnal weather but before the powers-that-be decide to turn on the heating. (Also they have left the windows open, which I later realize is to blow away the slight but all- pervading elderly smell.)

So the landlady show me the traditional trick of lighting the cooker, and putting bricks on the flames. And I can’t work out if this is weird or not.

smoking (extra)

You see, a city of smokers, but kind of neat and tidy with it, in an ad-hoc make-do-and-mend kind of way......

wishing I could hear more everyday stories

Today we went to visit the flat next to my old flat, which I have watched builders going in and out of for several months. So, on the off-chance and as I was leaving, I enquired as to whether it might be for rent.

Well, we met the owner, an elderly engineer. The one-roomed flat, which had been his mother's, still has Soviet period fixtures and fittings. Visiting it was like being in a time-warp compared to the IKEA corporate flat I have just left (or the shiny 'capitalist realist' style interior I now occupy). I loved it of course - it would make a great 'matching set' with my 50s modernist flat in London - but there was a complicated story about how he and his wife would like to rent it to me, so I could help the grandchildren with their English (and because they have had good times in London on a cultural exchange), but that his daughter was keen to use it as extra space for these children and their artistic activities, so no decision could yet be made. Photographs of his grandchildren and my daughter were duly studied and cooed over, and other stories were swopped particularly about a shared interest in architecture - of which more below.

This led , after we had left, to talk about both the housing market in Moscow and the stories it offers about people's lives here. In many ways Moscow is like London; housing is now very expensive, such that those who 'came into' property before the boom have the potential to live off the additional income from renting it, whilst those who missed out can no longer 'get in' and must pay around 50% of their income for somewhere to live.

Only in Moscow what people now own - mainly following the privatisation of the 90s - depends on how their parents were employed during the Soviet period. So, if your dad or grandfather was in the KGB or some other high-ranking official, then you may now well have the keys to a huge flat in a Stalinist skyscraper. I don't know about the engineer's family, but his wife is the daughter of Vladimir Shukhov, who designed some of the earliest hyperboloid structures, including the famous Tower named after him (just this fact alone is very exciting to me, for which I apologise), so they have another, inherited flat.

And then this led on to stories about other people I work with, including one whose father was Stalin's helicopter pilot. Because, in Soviet times, you only got permission to move to Moscow legally if you were a key worker or part of the power structure. Which means, I guess, that there is a greater 'density' of such personal histories here.

more shopping advice

Been meaning to mention two really classy design shops for ages now. Both worth visiting, since this is definitely something Moscow doesn't have much of a reputation for. The customised broomsticks outside one of Buro Nahodok's shop (near Patriarchs Pond) give an indication of the kind of locally grown humour that underpins most of the stuff here.

Design Boom is much more typical of the kind of contemporary design you get right across Europe, but still nice bits and pieces, good interior and cafe (if all quite pricey).

Handy hints for travelers 9: Don't drink the water!

A visitor asked me recently if it was okay to drink the tap water here. Illustrated is the bowl in which I - being typically English - put water on my radiators to try and cool/humidify the dry, hot interior air created by Moscow's unturnable-off district heating system. Look and learn. Do not drink the water!