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A city that mirrors

contrast and change,

oscow is a city
more in the pub-
lic eye than most
world capitals. A
centre of history
— andmystery —
and the focus of
every other day’s
headlines, most
journalists these days seem to be scrambling
for a crack at the Moscow dateline, fora
chance to have their picture taken looking
stern and analytical with St. Basil’s Cathed-
ral in the background. Yet the city itself, not
the political stage, but the home, workplace
and proud heritage of countless genera-
tions, remains little known or appreciated
around the world.

At nine million inhabitants, and rapidly
expanding, Moscow is the USSR’s key
nexus of government, science, industry and
culture. Unexpectedly, it is also known as
“the biggest village in Russia” — not
necessarily a putdown for Muscovites, who

‘are proud of the easy familiarity that per-

sists in the midst of the metropolis.
Tourists often believe they have seen
Moscow after inspecting its magnificent
museums, monuments and theatres, and
riding down its vast, crowded boulevards
flanked by grand, apparently monolithic
public buildings. Few ever notice the small
archways cut into the street face of Moscow,
through which one plunges into an entirely
different world of labyrinthine back streets,
quiet apartment blocks that give onto open
courtyards, wild, overgrown parks and

FROM
MOSCOW

shady playgrounds where the children grow
up, all seemingly light-years away from
those bustling boulevards. Like a Russian
matrushka doll, Moscow is city within a city
within a city. =

The city ostensibly radiates out from its
heart, but actually not according to any
pattern known to geometry. The Kremlin
itself is neither a square nor a triangle, but a
unique shape formed by geography, history
and the Russian mind. Flowing outward,
the city too follows its own charming but
baffling logic, with the result that even life-
long Muscovites occasionally find them-
selves hopelessly lost.

I remember once hearing that during the
war the Soviet government issued deliber-
ately distorted maps of Moscow in order to
confuse the oncoming nazi invaders. I have
often wondered why anyone should have
thought that necessary.

Old Moscow, with its thousands of
churches, palaces and stately public build-
ings, still at least partly survives amid exten-
sive overlays of the new. As the Soviet
capital since 1918, Moscow has borne the
brunt of several efforts to bring it into line
with distinctly different versions of what
“the first city of socialism” ought to look
like.

In the 1920s, there emerged in Moscow a
revolutionary new school of architects
whose aim was to make the city respond on
all levels to the material and emotional
needs of its people. Many of their marve-
lous, prescient creations can still be found
sprinkled around Moscow. My own wife’s
family, for instance, lives in the famous

“house on the embankment.” Though it -

6 e Pacific Tribune, November 14, 1988

looks a little drab today, it was an amazing,
futuristic place when it was opened in 1931,
combining large, comfortable apartments
with all the everyday services: a cinema, a
theatre, department store, grocery shop,
laundry, clinic, kindergartens, post office,
gymnasium and bank.

In keeping with the spirit of the Soviet
revolution, architecture was international,
and large numbers of progressive foreigners
came to Moscow to contribute. Many Can-
adians will remember Hans Blumenfeld,
who died earlier this year, as an award-win-
ning University of Toronto city planner and
indefatigable peace activist. Few may be
aware that in his younger days he was one of
those who worked here and helped to shape
that dynamic and radical school of Soviet
constructivist architects.

In the mid-1930s, Stalin set out to re-
make Moscow in an entirely different
image. He had a penchant for monumental,
neo-gothic structures that have the peculiar
effect of dwarfing the human individual.
Best known of the constructions he set into
motion are the seven “‘wedding-cake” sky-
scrapers, looking like nothing so much as
giant science-fiction rockets squatting: on
their launch pads, that still tower over Mos-
cow.

The Khrushchev era brought a change of
tone. Its vision can be found in the Krem-
lin’s glittering glass-fronted Palace of Con-
gresses and the enormous box-like Rossiya
Hotel, which occupies the site of ancient
Kitaigorod just behind Red Square. These
are all still loudly debated by Muscovites.

Most of all, the Khrushchev era can be
seen in Kalinin Prospekt, an avenue of tall
modern office buildings and shopping malls
that was bulldozed through the heart of the
old Arbat district in the late 1950s. It repres-
ented a far more humane version of what
the city should be than Stalin’s, but was
obtained at the cost of irretrievably mutilat-
ing a part of Moscow’s ancient heritage.

The Brezhnev era’s contribution can best
be seen in October Square, a titanic ensem-
ble of cold, white marble-faced buildings
looking onto a large statue of Lenin. It was,
eerily, a modernist throwback to the mon-
umental style of Stalin.

It is not too early to say what perestroika

will bring. The past few years have already |
been characterized by a popular grassroots |

upsurge of Muscovites who have, in some
cases, taken to the streets with demands to
save and restore the city’s threatened herit-
age.

Colourful old downtown streets like old
Arbat and Stoleshnikov Lane have already
been renovated and turned into pedestrian
malls — historic preserves where no new
construction is permitted. These are “peo-
ple” places lined with cafes, book shops and
art stores. Several more are planned.

There is a wave of restoration fever grip-
ping Moscow. Speaking as one who walks
frequently around the town, I have repeat-
edly had the experience of suddenly being
struck by a beautiful little church or a stun-
ning palace that I must have passed by a
dozen times before without noticing. This is
far more than just fresh paint and giltwork.
The whole city seems to be springing into
new life.

Amazingly, most of this work is being
accomplished on a volunteer basis, fuelled
primarily by the enthusiasm of Muscovites
for their city.

Each weekend, teams of volunteers,
organized through the Komsomol and var-
ious historical agencies, gather and head off
for their chosen targets: old, neglected
churches, mansions, monasteries, even the
log houses that previous Soviet generations
were so keen to eradicate. They can be
observed all over the town ona Saturday or

building.
Sunday, mostly young people, digging,
scraping, hammering and painting.

Progress reports appear constantly in the
press, along with appeals for more people to
get involved. I came across this one recently
in the youth paper, Moskovsky Komso-
molets: “How long can you allow yourself
to feel outraged and disheartened by the loss
and destruction of our sacred national her-
itage?” it asks. “Enough! It should be res-
tored. This is our duty to those generations
of Muscovites who painstakingly built up
our capital over the centuries ....

“The youth association of labour initia-
tives appeals to all those Muscovites who

- would like to contribute their time and

effort to restoring the historic image of
Moscow. Come to us! Join one of the many
unions of amateur restorers sponsored by
our association .... There are unlimited
opportunities to get in touch with the spirit-
ual inheritance of our ancestors ....”

The most crying need in Moscow is for
new housing. The city is a rapidly growing
organism, with phalanxes of new apartment
blocks constantly forming on its outskirts.
But downtown, more than 15 per cent of the

MOSCOW ... St. Basil’s Cathedral in Red Square, built in 1560 (top) and thé
“~wedding-cake”’ architecture of the Stalin era, seen in the Ministry of Foreign Affait$

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people continue to inhabit communal flats
which, as dwelling places, are neither qual”
nor colourful. |
However, as the tone of their congres
last year indicated, Soviet architects 4
urban planners are in a militant moO’ —
There are distinct echoes among them oft
revolutionary constructivism of the 19205:
They aim to speed up housing constructio”
but insist that it must be not merely fun”
tional, but also attractive and human-sc4 ys
Downtown, they want no development os |
doesn’t harmonize with the city’s evolV®
historical character. |
We may soon begin to see startling new
innovations and insights appear in OY
planning, as Soviet architects emerge fro |
their pre-fabricated industrial phase 47
once again focus the human being at the |
centre of the urban environment. ai
Meanwhile, Moscow remains an excee t|
ingly enigmatic place, its personality not 4
all on the surface. Yet with time, one bes”
to see how its disparate elements cohere of |
a higher level and why its inhabitants re
it as the most beautiful, fascinating, temp? |
amental and, yes, lovable of all cities.

|