Red Square redux

For three weeks a group of us from India were guests at the largest hotel in the world. We didn’t know this at the time, but the foyer of Hotel Rossiya, which overlooked the Moskva river, did resemble the inside of a fortified iron bank vault - a hundred times magnified.

It was 1988 and we motley lot were in Moscow to set up Stree (Zhensheena in Russian), an exhibition conceptualised and curated by dancer and cultural icon Chandralekha and designed by Dashrath Patel as part of the Festival of India in the USSR. Rajiv Gandhi was prime minister and Mikhail Gorbachev was president. Who knew then, that three years on, one would be assassinated and the other unseated? Who could have guessed that the USSR itself would cease to exist? But that’s another story.

It was freezing February, when way below zero is the norm. I remember looking out the window on the 14th or 15th floor very early that first morning and seeing a lonely figure sprinkling salt on the snow. It was dark and desolate. But when I had an opportunity to go to Moscow this December, it seemed like great good luck. Once is a chance of a lifetime, but two chances in one lifetime — 26 years apart?

Snowflakes and Dr Zhivago Now, as then, it was snowing lightly when the flight landed. But this time I knew snowflakes did really come in intricate designs. Driving into the city, the landscape once again evoked Boris Pasternak’s Dr Zhivago , despite the new presence of buildings and advertisement hoardings.

Hotel Rossiya doesn’t exist anymore though. It was demolished in 2006 and a huge park complex is planned in its place. In its time, it had dwarfed even the Kremlin with its 21-storeyed stolidity and 3,200 rooms. The Guinness Book of Records had it as the largest hotel until a certain Excalibur in Las Vegas outdid it in 1990.

Still, in spite of many avant-garde high-rises, the Moscow skyline continues to be defined by the Seven Sisters — a set of massive, spired structures constructed in the Soviet era on the orders of Joseph Stalin to commemorate 800 years of the city. If the logic was a building for every 100 years, there should have been eight sisters. There was one more, only it was abandoned soon after the foundation was laid and Rossiya rose up instead.

A time to be free A whole new generation has emerged since perestroika and glasnost and for many, the Soviet Union belongs only in history books and stories their parents and grandparents may share. Even though the heart of Moscow constitutes hoary landmarks such as Red Square (which, incidentally, comes from the Russian word for beautiful), the Kremlin, St Basil’s (or Vasily’s) Cathedral, Lenin’s mausoleum and Alexander Garden, the people who throng its streets late into the night seem free-spirited and on the go. Illuminations in red, blue and white of the national flag shimmer from buildings and trees, the shopping shows no signs of dropping, restaurants buzz with business, and music plays loudly across New Arbat Street as if challenging the gothic silence of the ‘sister’ that is home to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Back in 1988, Zena, one of our ‘interrupters’ as someone thought the word was, had taken us on a late-night jaunt on the metro. We were stunned by the stations, which with their murals and stained glass, chandeliers and polished granite seemed like works of art themselves. Musicians and artists hung out in their hideaway in the old Arbat Street subway. Getting a portrait sketched for 15 roubles wasn’t just an expensive affair, it seemed an act of rebellion even. We went past some street artists again, but this time it was enterprise.

Nobody’s glancing nervously over their shoulders, nor speaking in whispers. The Soviet era is long done and it seems as though people have moved on. But we did get excited at the sight of a small posse of bodyguards, earphones in place, moving swiftly and with purpose. We missed seeing the object of their guard-ship, though. “Can’t be so important,” our Moscow friend said. “See, his car is parked on the kerb. The more important you are, the closer you pull up to the entrance.”

Restricted and revealing The visit was short and restricted to the city centre, in connection with the Moscow Urban Forum, a conference on urbanism. But it was revealing in a way that the three weeks 26 years ago were not. Were people shyer, less willing to communicate then? Or is it that now there is openness, comfort with other languages, and a desire to make contact? The aspiration to make Moscow count as much as New York and London is palpable, and it appears the ambition is to be European.

In the Rossiya days, we took care never to be in lifts or corridors alone because strangers would accost us at every corner, seeking dollars in exchange for roubles. Their desperation was disturbing. But when older women admonished us for being inadequately clad for the winter, we felt reassured. Once, inside Krymsky Val where Stree was coming up, some young men in our team had stripped down to banians, desi style. An elderly caretaker, who used to spend all her time rolling balls of wool, watched with utter disapproval and a group of local visitors stood rooted to the spot until shirts and sweaters were back on! Another time, a genial gentleman in the lift smiled and said enthusiastically, “Indira Gandhi! Indira Gandhi!” The irrepressible Chandralekha responded with equal eloquence: “Joseph Stalin! Joseph Stalin!”

People also stared for a different reason — the pinks, yellows and purples peeping from beneath mismatched, warm feathers begged and borrowed from friends of friends. That’s changed too, and even though the Russian stylebook is ruled by the little black dress, the attitude is more colourful. The demographic profile too is visibly rainbow-hued.

The iconic Gum department store was swinging and busy and stacked with whatever money could buy. There’s an image from back then that refuses to be erased: rows and rows of women’s innerwear displayed like an inexplicable art installation. Even bread was in short supply. We had heard so much about Russian ice cream but couldn’t find it until the end of our stay, and all we got was one scoop each. Now you only have to ask and you will find the cuisine of your choice.

Open arms According to notices in The Moscow Times , Elton John was scheduled to perform in spite of the government policy on gays; a play called Lady Macbeth of Our District , described as “one of the harshest works in the Russian literary canon”, received rave reviews; a survey revealed that Russians were spending 13 per cent more this holiday season; and it was reported that a film on the punk rock group Pussy Riot had made it to the longlist for best documentary in the upcoming Oscars.

The government is going all out to woo investors. At a mass media road show they had ‘foreigners’ share their experiences of doing business in Russia. So, why isn’t anyone exporting/importing Russian chocolates? They’re delicious and they’re packaged beautifully.

(The author was in Moscow at the invitation of the Moscow Urban Forum.)

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