Published: 21 December 2021 ~ Victor Ryabinin Art Exhibition Kaliningrad opens December 2021
An art exhibition devoted to the works of our late friend Victor Ryabinin opens at The Kaliningrad Regional Museum of History and Arts on 23 December 2021. The exhibition will run until 31 December 2022.
He [Victor Ryabinin] was a breath of fresh air in my understanding of art. He was so alive in comparison with many of the other teachers. He ignited our imagination. He was not backward in pointing out our mistakes, but he inspired! And he took a sincere interest in our artistic development, which extended beyond the classroom.
Stanislav Konovalov, friend & art student of Victor Ryabinin
Details of Victor, the man and artist, can be found by accessing the links below:
“When I wrote the draft to {Victor Ryabinin’s biographical essay}, I wrote that I believe there is no equal to him in Kaliningrad — I still believe he has no equal.”
Boris Nisnevich, author
Victor Ryabinin Art Exhibition Kaliningrad
The Kaliningrad Regional Museum of History and Arts is located close to the bank of Kaliningrad’s Lower Pond.
Originally Königsberg’s city hall (Stadthalle) and also a performing arts centre, the impressive, multi-roomed building was constructed in 1912 by the Berlin architect Richard Zeil.
In its pre-war glory days, the Stadhalle boasted three concert halls, a restaurant and a well-appointed garden cafe that looked out over the castle pond, Schlossteich.
As with most of Königsberg, the building suffered extensive damage during the Allied bombing raid that took place on 26 August 1944. It took five years to restore the building, from 1981 to 1986.
The museum has five halls, each one devoted to a different theme: Nature, Archaeology, Regional History, War Room & the Post-war History of the Region.
Essential details:
The Kaliningrad Regional Museum of History and Arts 236016, Kaliningrad, St. Clinical, 21
To coincide with what would have been Victor Ryabinin’s 75th birthday, a book has been published which celebrates and commemorates his life and work. Conceived, supervised and edited by Kaliningrad artist Marina Simkina, daughter of the famous Russian poet Sam Simkin, and Boris Nisnevich, author and journalist, this fascinating book contains personal memories of Victor Ryabinin and critical acclaim of his work and career from 28 of his friends and colleagues.
More information about the book can be found by following this link [Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg], which will take you to the permanent pages on this blog under the category Victor Ryabinin Königsberg.
An artist who can hear angels speak Художник, у которого ангелы говорят Kaliningrad author and journalist, Boris Nisnevich’s essay on the haunting influence that Königsberg’s ruins had on Victor Ryabinin’s philosophy and art: “When I wrote the draft to this article, I wrote that I believe there is no equal to him in Kaliningrad — I still believe he has no equal.” ~ Boris Nisnevich
In Memory of Victor Ryabinin This article was published in memoriam on the first anniversary of Victor’s death. Victor died on 18 July 2019.
Personal Tour Guide Kaliningrad Stanislav Konovalov (Stas) was a student and close friend of Victor Ryabinin. In the months following Victor’s death Stas supervised and worked on the emotionally and physically difficult task of dismantling, packing, transporting and storing the many and various Königsberg artefacts, artworks and assorted relics that once adorned and constituted The Studio ~ Victor’s atmospheric art studio and celebrated reception room. Stas took detailed photographs and measurements of the room in the hope one day that it could be reconstructed as part of a permanent exhibition to Victor and his work. Sadly, Stas himself passed away in November 2020. We live in hope that someone will continue the work that his untimely demise left unfinished. This is Stas’ story.
Victor Ryabinin’s Headstone Königsberg After quite a hiatus Victor’s grave was finally bestowed with a headstone befitting the man and the artist. It shows Victor sitting on a stool in his art studio. He is leaning nonchalantly in his chair, relaxed, unassuming, in tune with himself, his life and the world around him. His right arm is resting on one of his art-historian creations, his left arm cradling the base. The artwork is an assemblage, a composition of assorted Königsberg relics assembled icon-like within a frame …
Published: 18 July 2021 ~ Victor Ryabinin a word with him after his Death
On the second anniversary of Victor Ryabinin’s death, I recall Victor saying of himself, “I suppose you could call me a cheerful pessimist.” His ironic self-assessment led me to the conclusion that if he could call himself a cheerful pessimist, I could call myself (amongst other things!) a pragmatic Romanticist.
My wife, Olga, however, is an explorer of and believer in esoteric, spiritual and metaphysical doctrines. Thus, it was no contraindication of our normality that just before falling asleep one night Olga should embark upon an epilogue that adumbrated her philosophic convictions that human kind, the world as we perceive it and the universe of which we are a part operate as an omnipotent mechanism, a machine of Art Nouveau amalgamation melding and interconnecting all of nature’s components, giving them purpose and place within a grand and mysterious scheme that starts before life and does not end with death.
I prefer to count sheep myself, or beer bottles, but that’s pragmatic Romanticism for you.
Olga believes that if you want something and that you visualise that something with devout conviction you can shape your own reality. It is simply another way of saying, “Life is what you make it”, or in Hollywood speak, “Dreams really can come true”.
On this particular occasion, however, she was not talking about her extreme good fortune of having met and married me, but about her increasing interest in and love for Königsberg-Kaliningrad, which has received inspirational impetus from her recent discovery of the architectural splendours of Komsomolskaya street, the street on which the Home for Veterans is situated, a street which has more than its fair share of late 19th century early 20th century buildings, built, embellished, thankfully preserved and carefully restored, in the grand style. She was so entranced by her May-time visit to this street that she wrote about it on her Facebook page:
Olga Korosteleva-Hart [Facebook]
Shared with Public
Do not underestimate the importance of the human factor! These beautiful bas-reliefs would have been destroyed if it were not for the woman in this series of pictures, whose name I sadly did not ask. She told me that building site workers tried to hammer the bas-reliefs from the walls of this 19th century house just before they began to paint the building, arguing that the symbols were Germanic and therefore were not relevant to Russians. It was only when the lady reasoned with them and wrote complaints to the city’s administration that the reliefs were restored and repainted in their original colour.
The history of the suburb of Hufen (the location of the buildings) is mentioned in the 13th century, but only in the 19th century did it begin to assume the shape that Kaliningrad’s residents see today. Queen Louise of Prussia spent her summer months in Luisenval, as this area was known in her time [early 19th century] , and this was the reason for its rapid development.
In the 19th century Hufen was divided into three parts: Forder Hufen – Far Hufen, Mittelhufen – Middle Hufen and Hinter Hufen ~ Further Hufen and was later renamed Amalienau. By this time, the urban layout of the streets had already been formed, and the wealthy owners of the villas laid a cobblestone road. In 1896, an architectural competition for the development of the Luisenallee, organised by the Eastern Bank of Konigsberg, established planning rules. The first and most important rule was to restrict the height of the buildings, the second was to adhere to half-timbered construction and the third to incorporate abundant decorative elements. The rules also spelt out several mandatory cosmetic conditions, one of which involved the addition of elegant ornamentation iconic to Gothic architecture or associated with national romantic symbols.
I would like to thank the lovely lady who managed to save these evocative ancient pagan symbols from modern barbarism. If we all cared about our environment and our shared history regardless of nationality as she does, life would be so much more beautiful!
And, note this:
“I love my city! Vibrant, busy and green!”
Victor Ryabinin, a word with him after his death
She told me that whilst she was walking along this street, she realised just how much she loved Kaliningrad. She said that she sees its imperfections less and less and that, like Victor, she is always discovering and learning something new.
She thought how pleased Victor would have been to have known how much Kaliningrad and its Königsberg heritage meant to her, and, as she was thinking this, Victor appeared to her.
She said, I spoke to him. I asked what he was doing now, and he replied that I am still learning; I am just in another realm.
She connected these mutual feelings about Kaliningrad to her ‘life is what you want it to be’ philosophy. Some people, she infers, can see the good in Kaliningrad, others cannot or will not. But, she believes, that if you see and feel Kaliningrad-Königsberg in a positive light, the city will reward you.
She proceeded to remind me of a day we spent with Victor. We were walking past an old, partly burnt-out Königsberg building. When we brought this building to Victor’s attention, he chuckled. He told us that years ago it used to be a police station. He must have been rather drunk one night, because having been arrested on the streets of Kaliningrad he had the pleasure of spending the night in the cells of this building. When they released him, he cursed the place and wished it would burn down. Shortly afterwards, it did.
From which we had to conclude that our kind, inoffensive and easy-going friend was something of a subliminal pyromaniac. Still, I never had a problem when we visited him in his studio in getting a light for my cigar.
But it was not the mysterious elements of these two stories that had prompted Olga to recall this day. It was Victor’s enthusiasm for a number of old buildings along the street where the burnt-out police station stood.
“I could not understand how Victor could be so excited by these buildings and by the spaces occupied by new buildings where old buildings used to be. I just did not get it,” said Olga. “But now I understand.”
The Mystical Nature of Victor Ryabinin
She alluded to the mystical qualities inherent in this city, referring to the symbolism expressed in the many bas-reliefs and in the other forms of ancient decoration, concluding that in days gone by, and not so long ago, people were more attuned to the other dimension, the world beyond our material existence. It was this intuitiveness that endowed people with a sense of belonging, belonging to the world and the universe. It imparted knowledge of the ‘otherness’ and the place that mortals occupy within its schema. It gave people a deeper insight into and understanding of the mystical, all of which is now threatened by an overt and misappropriated emphasis instilled and prosecuted by the globalists for the sake of their ‘Me, Myself, I’ culture, at the centre of which is alienating technology and the drive to reduce us all to nothing more than consumer clones. And I am sure that within this context coronavirus and its divisive objective also got a mention.
I thought for a moment, and then said, “There was certainly something mystical about Victor.”
“We were perceptive to this,” she emphasised. “This is why we enjoyed Victor’s company, because we were on the same wavelength. Victor was unique in many ways. He was non-judgemental; he accepted people for what they were, and he accepted situations; I do not remember him being really negative about anything or anyone.”
It is two years now, by our understanding of time, since Victor stepped out of time, but hardly a day goes by when we do not mention him. Since his death, Victor has become the benchmark by which we judge both the architectural and cultural developments in this region. Whenever we observe something new, such as the restoration of an old building or the construction of a new one, one or other of us will ask, “I wonder if Victor would have approved of this?” or will categorically state, “Victor would have loved this!” or “Victor would not have liked this!” whatever the case may be.
On 20 May 2021, Olga learnt that the green light had been given for Kaliningrad to invest in and organise the Kant celebration, which is scheduled to take place on the anniversary of the birth of Immanuel Kant, the German philosopher, in 2024.
As a boy who grew up in the ruins of Konigsberg and for whom this city and its history was his first love and his life’s work, the prospect of the Kant celebration was something that was very dear to Victor’s heart and something he had been looking forward to experiencing. Said Olga, on hearing the news that the Kant celebration was to go head: “Victor would have been so proud!”
We, too, are proud, to have been blessed with the friendship of Victor Ryabinin.
Postscript:
On the first anniversary of Victor Ryabinin’s death, our friend Stas (Stanislav Konovalov), student and friend of Victor Ryabinin, drove us to Victor’s graveside to pay our respects. Afterwards, we stopped in Kaliningrad and went for a short walk along the top of the ramparts and defensive banks next to the King’s Gate. Stas died in November 2020.
Updated: 3 May 2021 | originally published 24 January 2020
Königsberg, the former East Prussian capital which preceded Kaliningrad, was heavily fortified by two formidable rings of forts and interconnecting walls punctuated with bastions and other defensive structures. Today, these forts exist in various states of repair and disrepair, some extensively damaged as a result of military action in WWII, others being cared for by people who are renting them on a lease basis.
In 2015, we learnt that one of the forts belonging to the outer belt was being meticulously restored with a view to opening it as a tourist destination. Then, as now, a good friend of ours arranged for us to visit the fort. In January 2020, we were introduced to the entrepreneur who had taken on this ambitious restoration project. We were to meet him again at Fort XI to see how things were developing.
Fort XI (Fort Dönhoff), one of Königsberg’s forts within the outer defensive ring, is currently undergoing an extensive renovation programme. Already welcoming tourists, the massive and intricate structure is being painstakingly repaired, brick by brick, wall by wall, room by room. As I said to Arthur, the man behind the plan, “You’ve done a lot since we were here last in 2015.” Said he, with more than a touch of irony, “There’s still a lot to do.”
Having turned off the main highway, you arrive at the fort after travelling down a long narrow road that opens up into the visitors carpark. At the end of WWII and until recently, the fort was requisitioned and used as a munitions and armaments store. This explains why the perimeter of the fort is ringed with barbed wire fences, coils of barbed wire and a secondary metal gate, and why there are rusting warning signs and spotlights stationed in the trees. At this point you have not entered the red-brick fort. You are not in 19th century Königsberg, or Königsberg World War II, but atmosphere-wise you are very much back in the Cold War era.
Soviet entrance to the fort (summer 2015)
Where’s James Bond when you need him?
Not looking at all like James Bond, any of us, our
friend Venzel, Olga and I pass through the Soviet military gate, which is now
on the skew and decidedly rickety. We pass a portable cabin, which, for the
time being, functions as a front office, pay-desk and souvenir shop, and walk
the short distance to the fort’s gate proper.
The main entrance to the fort, built, as with the rest of the structure, in Neo-Gothic form, stands a few metres away from the later entrance, the banks on one side and the flatter terrain on the other still protected with military fencing.
The two tall pillars of the entrance continue to
support the original iron gates to the fortress. They are awesome in every
respect, thick and heavy with hinges and handle to match. What an excellent logo
they would make for border control in Britain when we finally leave the EU.
Hmmm, I think I should copyright this one.
Mick Hart at the entrance to Fort Dönhoff, Kaliningrad, Russia
Inside the compound, immediately inside, nothing much
seemed to have changed from our last visit: small building on the left, small
shed-like building to the right. But this position does give the visitor a
commanding view of the front of the fort: the hardstone track crossing the moat
to the great arched doorway; the side walls of the fort fanning out to form the
open end of a chevron.
Our host, Arthur, the fort’s lease owner, greeted us,
and we walked together towards the fort entrance. As we crossed the narrow
bridge, I could see immediately that repointing and cleaning work had been undertaken
and that the old windows had all been replaced with wooden-framed double-glazed
units. The overgrowth, and the rubbish that it contained, along both outer
walls of the fort had been cleared, the grass on both sides of the footpath in
front trimmed and the vegetation stripped from the moat. Arthur explained that
they had managed to lower the level of the moat by one metre, which must have
had a beneficial effect in combatting rising damp inside the fort.
Rare bits and rabbits
The mown grass banks that slope gently down towards the moat side contain a small profusion of little wooden houses. These were not homes for a rising population constructed on a green belt, but executive homes for rabbits. Arthur explained that they had a number of resident rabbits, curious and exotic species, half-a-dozen of which could be seen bobbing around munching the grass.
Gathering outside the entrance to the fort to discuss what had been achieved since we were here last, I observed that an outer door had been added. This new door followed the original contours of the arch. The frame was black steel, the inner criss-crossed with vertical and horizontal struts in the manner of a portcullis, the intervals between the squares infilled with double-sided, ribbed, translucent plastic. This theme, I would soon discover, had been adopted throughout the fort. The portcullis effect was highly suitable to the surroundings in which it had been employed, whilst the translucent plastic served two fortuitous purposes: letting in light whilst retaining heat.
And heat there was, not in every room and corridor,
but certainly in the rooms where renovation was complete. The heating of
choice, and it could hardly have been any other bearing in mind the fort’s
location, is wood burners. Nothing more, except for open fire hearths, would be
appropriate. The stoves have a retro-look about them and fit well into the
backdrop of red-brick walls and vaulted Gothic ceilings.
We passed through two ante-chambers containing relics from World War II: munition shells, military helmets, various items of field gear all discovered either in the fort itself or in the grounds surrounding it. The walls are interspersed at regular intervals with printed and pictorial information boards depicting the history of Königsberg’s defenses, the particular fort we were in, and the RAF bombing raids and subsequent battle which saw Königsberg reduced to ruins.
Fort Dönhoff : ammo boxes
Fort Dönhoff: historical information
I would have liked to have lingered longer here, but
Arthur was calling us into what was effectively a suite of rooms, three
interconnecting chambers that flanked the main entrance which, with their tall
archways and multiple vaulted ceilings, were deliciously Königsberg Gothic. In
here, the wall displays and glass cabinet containing both German and Soviet
firearms from WWII, were augmented with a large wall-mounted monitor on which a
video of the battle for Königsberg was running. From the presence of a longish
conference table, complete with modern chairs, their back supports decorated
armorial style, it would appear that this room was used for business meetings
and educational purposes. Arthur was particularly proud of the real wood floor
which, he surmised, would have been the status quo at the time when the fort
was constructed.
Fort Dönhoff: Conference table
It was explained to us before we continued our tour, that the two front radial arms of the fort had been the soldiers’ barracks, their living quarters.
When you first visit the fort, it is hard to visualise the layout, even with the help of plans which are dotted about on large display boards. For the novice visitor and us, effectively on our second visit, the initial and lasting impression is one of being swallowed up within a vast maze of corridors and arched-roof chambers. Obviously, electric lighting has been installed, but some areas are dimmer than others and others really quite dark. For the time being, however, the route we were on was figurable. On either side of the main entrance, long corridors run the length of the fort behind a series of arched rooms, the windows of which look out over the grassed bank and moat beyond. This would have been the view that the troops stationed here from the 19th century to the end of WWII would have had on a daily basis.
Passageway running the length of the barracks, Fort Dönhoff, Kaliningrad, Russia
As we walked, Arthur explained that these rooms were
at the forefront of the renovation process and would eventually be rented as
commercial units. All of the rooms were of the same proportion, except for the
first, this larger space having been arranged to accommodate parties over the
festive season. The main feature herein was the huge open fireplace with its
solid oak mantle beam.
Function room at Fort Dönhoff, destined to become the fort’s cafeteria
A unifying theme of both the left and right sections
of this area of the fort, and, indeed, throughout, was the application of the
portcullis-style doors, which fitted handsomely into the original archways and
were used to good effect in dividing the length of the corridors.
I asked Arthur how the entrance to each room would
have been originally, and he was able to show me, as one of the rooms was being
restored in order to demonstrate the original design. The arches to the front
of each room had been brick to the point where the verticals curved, with a
conventional door at the centre. The arched upper section would have been
filled with a wooden frame and windows.
Recreating the barrack-room experience! Soviet re-enactors’ beds
The chambers on the opposite side to the one we had
first visited were a mirror image, and, once again, contained relics and
artefacts associated with the history of the fort and Königsberg in general.
The first room had a giant plan of the fort on one side of the wall and, on the
other, a circle of ceramic plaques showing the outer circle of forts, including
Fort XI, with Königsberg at their centre.
Konigsberg’s outer ring of fortifications
The main suite of chambers here contained a modern, but refectory-style, table, and, if I remember correctly, recently these rooms had been used for holding parties.
Fort Dönhoff Caféteria
The design of the Königsberg forts was such that both sides had been constructed to include open yards. To get to these you have to pass through big, heavy iron doors. In fact, to get to anything here it’s big heavy iron doors! The yards are sunk well-like at ground level; they are valleys, with the ramparts of the superstructure rising precipitously above them on all sides. To get to the higher levels, you need to negotiate steep stairways or grassed tracks that rise gradually, but precipitously, along a lengthy incline. These yards are fitted with outbuildings sunk into the side of the banks, the exposed portions of their roofs grassed over, as is the fort in its entirety, making it look from the rooftop more like a giant mound covered in hills and valleys than a building. We would ascend to the roof in good time, but first it had done my chilled fingers and toes a power of good to see that in the corner of the yard was the welcoming sign of a café.
Cafe at Fort Dönhoff
Cafe at Fort Dönhoff: A welcome sight on a cold day!
Naturally, written in Cyrillic (isn’t my Russian
improving!), I was heartened to see that in keeping with the historical tenor
the sign was perfectly suited. It had been written, or painted, in hand and the
wooden frontage and doors below had a rough-hewn plank effect.
Inside, the accent was on basic; just as it should be. The natural stone floor and seats arranged down one side as a series of wooden box-frame units, painted to look distressed, ostracised any attempt at modernity, making for a completely inline atmosphere.
The interior of Fort Dönhoff’s atmospheric cafe
Before ordering something warm to drink, and a snack
to go with it, we were advised that quality and exotic coffees were the
specialities of the house, and I have to say that my choice, coffee with real
ginger, was superb.
Fort Dönhoff’s cafe: some of the most exotic and tasty coffee I have ever tasted!
Suitably replenished, we followed our guide into a
long passageway set into the side of the bank. He asked us to close our eyes
and imagine this as a street, with retail units of various kinds on either
side. So, I put on my architect’s head and what do you know, it worked!
Aren’t your toilets wonderful!
From this point onwards the exact route that we took
becomes a little blurred. We returned to the fort interior, checked out the
long, arched powder rooms, entered several narrow walkways, popped out again
into the open air, this being the opposite yard where in 2015 I had been filmed
by Moscow television coming out of one the historic toilet blocks and all I
could think of saying was, ‘the toilets are really wonderful’, returned inside,
climbed a very steep flight of steps and came out on the upper level
overlooking the entrance.
At this juncture, Arthur drew our attention to various scratched inscriptions in the walls and ceilings just behind the doorway. The names and their attendant dates largely belonged to the 1950s, and it was Arthur’s opinion that they had been incised there by a succession of lonely guards who, when the fort had been employed as a munitions store in Soviet times, would have been standing here in this doorway, rifle in hand, wracked with boredom.
Our excursion was now becoming more labyrinth-like by
the minute. We traced our steps, literally, to a lower level, and then climbed
a spiral staircase that brought us out on the top of the fort a few yards away
from the main entrance. Wooden decking had been laid here, on which there were
two park benches and, looking out towards Königsberg, a pair of coin-operated
binoculars raised on a metal stanchion.
Fort XI, Dönhoff, in World War II
From this point you could just make out using your own built-in optics a distant Kaliningrad. Said Arthur, “The fort garrison could clearly see from here the city of Königsberg going up in flames. The Soviet artillery was placed not much more than a metre apart and firing was so intense that some of the barrels were melting.” It was not surprising, therefore, that the morale of the German forces occupying the fort had, like the once grand city before them, disintegrated.
Grave of Soviet soldier
Not all of Königsberg’s ancient forts had been this fortunate: some saw heavy fighting during the battle for Königsberg, and some were reduced to rubble. Later, as we were walking back through the main tunnel, Arthur said with an ironic sigh, “Ahh, all this material and work ~ for nothing!” He referred to the fact that by the time Königsberg’s legendary fortifications had been completed, they were already out of date. Developments in artillery meant that the massive walls and ramparts offered little or no effective resistance and, of course, come aerial warfare they were all but perfectly redundant. The crowning irony has to be that whilst large swathes of Königsberg were wiped off the map in WWII, much of its fortifications survived the onslaught.
Back in 2020, on the grassy roof of the fort the Germans had bequeathed us, I marvelled at the garrison of chimneys marching across the skyline. Each red-brick chimney block, capped against the wind and rain, seemed to contain several flues. It was good to see one or two of them smoking. Arthur had informed us that they had undertaken assessments of all the flues in the rooms that had been earmarked for later use and all were in functionable order.
Since we were here last, in 2015, the trees, bushes and undergrowth sprouting from the roof of the fort had been done away with. It was now possible to stand on the entrance peninsular and look out over grassed areas that were not too far from golfing-green standard, except for the presence of tree stumps, and when we climbed to the highest point, and took up position at the base of the flagpole flying the Russian flag, the hills and dales of the rooftop landscape traversed with wooden walkways really was a sight to behold.
We ventured to the furthest extremity of the roof and looked out on the other side of the fort, where, extending from and behind the massy walls of the moat, more buildings were waiting among the trees to be renovated.
Gun emplacement on far side of Fort Dönhoff
Machine-gun post
At this moment, we were standing next to a great slab of concrete. It protruded from the ground at not much more than calf height and contained a pillar-box split, just wide and deep enough to peer through from the inside using a pair of binoculars or through which to mount a machine gun.
Arthur took us back into the fort so that we could see what this look-out/machine-gun post was like for the men who once were stationed here.
Our route took us past a peculiar tunnel, the walls and floor of which were almost smooth, that ran at a steep diagonal downwards. Apparently, it had once been a staircase, but some kind of high-powered incendiary device had been tested there, the heat from which had been so intense that it had literally melted the brickwork. The effect could clearly be seen and touched at the farthermost point of the ceiling, where the bricks resembled petrified jelly!
Incendiary experiment = brick meltdown! ~ Fort Dönhoff
We also passed some large oval iron plates in the
floor. These were trapdoors, which, when opened, would have allowed ammunition
to have been hoisted up from the floors below.
Trapdoors for elevating munitions to the upper storeys ~ Fort Dönhoff
We made it to the machine-gun nest, the last leg of the journey necessitating a short climb up a vertical ladder. Inside it was damp and claustrophobic, but those stationed inside would have had a narrow but commanding view over the moat. With a heavy machine gun trained on them from this elevated position many lives would need to be sacrificed before the fort could be stormed at this point.
Viewing & machine gun nest
View from slit window
We wended our way back from here to the lower level, where we were shown the fixtures and viewing windows to the right and left of the moat, where some kind of heavy cannons would have been trained, making any attempt to bridge the fort by boat a costly if nigh impossible one, and then we made our way back through a narrow corridor closer to the front of the fort.
I’ve never seen one as big as this before!
We had been talking about horses and stables when I thought I could smell hay and, hey presto!, at the end of the corridor in which we were standing was a room full of hay bales. Tempted to revert to my Judge Dread and Ivor Bigun upbringing, I won’t say it after all, but the occupant of this room was a large one ~ one of the biggest and most self-confident cockerels that I have ever clapped eyes on. He looked at us as if to say ‘follow me’, and led us through an open doorway onto the chilly embankment outside.
What a beauty!
We emerged about three-quarters of the way along the moat side, which put us in Funny Bunny country. Whilst Olga conversed with the cockerel, I observed three or four species of rabbit, the likes of which I had never beheld. I won’t dwell on this too much, as I have a friend in England who cannot stand rabbits. He claims that they were introduced to England by the ‘bloody Normans’, and that this was when for England ‘it all went wrong!’.
Tamelife at Fort Dönhoff
We had spent a splendid afternoon at Fort XI (Fort Dönhoff) and look forward to returning later in the year to see how things are progressing there. It is truly a marvelous and atmospheric place, particularly if, like me, you are only too pleased when the past catches up with you!
Venzel, Arthur & Mick in Arthur’s fort. Boys will always be boys!
When you visit the Kaliningrad region, put Fort XI (Dönhoff) high on your itinerary of must-see places. I assure you, you won’t regret it!
TOURIST INFORMATION BOARD Fort Dönhoff
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This article was originally posted to my blog on 24 January 2020 and revised on 4 May 2021. To preserve the historical integrity of this piece, the editorial revisions that I have made have been essentially confined to practical details, ie opening times, costs etc. For an update on Fort XI, please refer to my March 2021 post: Kaliningrad Hosts Retro Car Club Day.
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Essential details:
Fort XI Dönhoff Ulitsa Energetikov Kaliningrad Kaliningrad Oblast 236034
Opening times: The fort is open every day: Summer from 10am to 6pm; Winter from 10am to 5pm
Admission: 300 roubles Discount tickets 150 roubles (pupils and students, retirees, veterans of the Great Patriotic War, the disabled) Free admission for children under 7 years old
Sightseeing tours: Tours are provided free of charge On weekdays tours take place daily at 11am, 1pm, 3pm and 5pm At weekends and holidays at 11am 12 noon, 1pm, 2pm, 3pm, 4pm and 5pm Approximate duration of tour is one hour For groups of more than 10 people, advanced booking is required. Tel: +7 401 239 0699
On the 75th anniversary of Victor Ryabinin’s birth
Published: 17 December 2020 ~ A book about Victor Ryabinin
To coincide with what would have been Victor Ryabinin’s 75th birthday, a book has been published which celebrates and commemorates his life and work. Conceived, supervised and edited by Kaliningrad artist Marina Simkina, daughter of the famous Russian poet Sam Simkin, and Boris Nisnevich, author and journalist, this fascinating book contains personal memories of Victor Ryabinin and critical acclaim of his work and career from 28 of his friends and colleagues.
More information about the book can be found by following this link [Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg], which will take you to the permanent pages on this blog under the category Victor Ryabinin Königsberg.
The following articles relating to Victor, his life and his art, also appear in this category:
An artist who can hear angels speak Художник, у которого ангелы говорят Kaliningrad author and journalist, Boris Nisnevich’s essay on the haunting influence that Königsberg’s ruins had on Victor Ryabinin’s philosophy and art: “When I wrote the draft to this article, I wrote that I believe there is no equal to him in Kaliningrad — I still believe he has no equal.” ~ Boris Nisnevich
In Memory of Victor Ryabinin This article was published in memoriam on the first anniversary of Victor’s death. Victor died on 18 July 2019.
Personal Tour Guide Kaliningrad Stanislav Konovalov (Stas) was a student and close friend of Victor Ryabinin. In the months following Victor’s death Stas supervised and worked on the emotionally and physically difficult task of dismantling, packing, transporting and storing the many and various Königsberg artefacts, artworks and assorted relics that once adorned and constituted The Studio ~ Victor’s atmospheric art studio and celebrated reception room. Stas took detailed photographs and measurements of the room in the hope one day that it could be reconstructed as part of a permanent exhibition to Victor and his work. Sadly, Stas himself passed away in November 2020. We live in hope that someone will continue the work that his untimely demise left unfinished. This is Stas’ story.
Victor Ryabinin’s Headstone Königsberg After quite a hiatus Victor’s grave was finally bestowed with a headstone befitting the man and the artist. It shows Victor sitting on a stool in his art studio. He is leaning nonchalantly in his chair, relaxed, unassuming, in tune with himself, his life and the world around him. His right arm is resting on one of his art-historian creations, his left arm cradling the base. The artwork is an assemblage, a composition of assorted Königsberg relics assembled icon-like within a frame …
Published: 17 December 2020 ~ Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg
To coincide with what would have been Victor Ryabinin’s 75th birthday, a book has been published which celebrates and commemorates his life and work. Conceived, supervised and edited by Kaliningrad artist Marina Simkina, daughter of the famous Russian poet Sam Simkin, and Boris Nisnevich, author and journalist, this fascinating book contains personal memories of Victor Ryabinin and critical acclaim of his work and career from 28 of his friends and colleagues.
Young artists! Victor Ryabinin & Marina Simkina (From the book Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg (Marina Simkina)
This 198-page commemorative anthology, which has been produced to the highest standards in full colour and landscape format, provides a valuable and affectionate insight into who Victor Ryabinin was and his unique contribution to our understanding of Königsberg-Kaliningrad’s remarkable legacy as a place of dramatic change, an incomparable centre of culture and a magnetic hub for creative talent.
A Victor Ryabinin ‘Assemblage’ (From the book Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg)
The book contains numerous photographs capturing Victor both in creative mode and at leisure. It also incorporates examples of some of his most memorable works, presenting his sketches, drawings and paintings and includes his idiosyncratic and evocative Königsberg ‘assemblages’ ~ large frames in which random fragments of Königsberg are artistically assembled to form latter-day icons, a symbolic act which enabled Victor to explore his philosophy of universal interconnectivity, in this instance the destiny of two cultures symbiotically fused by time, place and fate.
The book also contains various extracts from Victor’s phenomenal pictorial diaries, which for me are the most fascinating and thought-provoking accomplishments of his career.
Victor Ryabinin’s pictorial diary (From the book Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg)
Victor was hardly ever without his sketch book, his ubiquitous fold-over drawing pad, in which he would faithfully and meticulously record everything that interested him. Spanning a period of 50 years, the page-a-day inclusions range from simple sketches and notes, verse and philosophic comments, often entered in a beautifully flowing calligraphic hand, typically sharing space on the same page with a bottle label, sweet wrapper or any other souvenir arbitrarily collected from a restaurant, bar or anywhere else he had frequented on a particular day, to highly intricate and detailed drawings, mostly symbolic in nature.
Victor Ryabinin’s pictorial diary (From the book Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg)
Each page, with its distinctively different collage, told him where he had been and what he had seen that day. It also captures his mood and artistic frame of mind at the moment of representation. Whilst functioning as a journal and being works of art in themselves, each sketch book contains pages, and within those pages numerous stimuli, of inspirational material that Victor could use at a later date for a broader and larger canvas.
Victor Ryabinin’s pictorial diary (From the book Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg)
The range and scope of artistic expression within these journals alone demonstrate Victor’s acute observation of the world in which he lived whilst revealing glimpses into his inner world, the one shaped by symbolism, in which he worked and flourished.
Book illustrations by Victor Ryabinin
Whenever I mention Victor Ryabinin, I am met with the same reply, “Ahh, you mean Victor Ryabinin the artist!” But I tend to think of him as Victor Ryabinin the social historian, the art-historian, not somebody who studied the history of art but who made the unique history of the ruined city in which he was born and lived his lifelong study, and who made sense of it and articulated his thoughts and feelings about it using art and the symbolist genre as his medium for expression.
Victor Ryabinin was truly a one-off, both in terms of his defined artistic-historical focus and in being one of the most agreeable, charmingly charismatic and humanistic of people that you could ever wish to meet.
(From the book Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg(Sergey Federov)
Within the covers of this superb publication, thanks to Boris Nisnevich and Marina Simkina, those who knew Victor, loved him, valued his work and everything that he stood for, pay tribute to the artist and the man, the likes of which in all probability we will never meet again.
Victor Ryabinin is a synonym for Königsberg. And this is the book by which he will be remembered.
(From the book Victor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg)
Photographs & inspiration fromVictor Ryabinin the Artist Born in Königsberg, compiled, edited and published byMarina Simkina and Boris Nisnevich (2020)
A new book on the vintage cars of Königsberg , titled The Steel Ghost of Königsberg, is a nostalgic & historical landmark
A historic moment was recorded today (17 October 2020) when our friend, Yury Grozmani, journalist, historian, vintage car enthusiast and organiser of the Kaliningrad international vintage car festival, The Golden Shadow of Königsberg, presented me with a signed copy of his recently completed book The Steel Ghost of Königsberg. The inscription on the inside front cover reads:
“To an excellent journalist Mick Hart from an equally excellent journalist Yury Grozmani. For a long memory in honor of the best years spent in the beautiful historical city of Kant and Schiller – the city of Königsberg – with respect from the author.”
New Book! Vintage Cars of Königsberg
Yury reminded us that it had been almost a year ago when we discussed the progress of this project over dinner at the Plushkin restaurant, sadly now closed. On that occasion he had brought with him a copy of the book’s proposed front cover, adding that there was still much work to do on the book itself. During that evening we discussed his previous book, The Iron Heart of Königsberg, which was published in 2015. The Steel Ghost of Königsberg is the sequel to this work.
Front cover design to The Steel Ghost of Königsberg
The Steel Ghost of Königsberg, which explores the relationship between the vintage cars of Königsberg and their owners, contextualised within the history of the East Prussian city, was no short time in the making. Yury confided in us that he has been researching, writing and compiling the book for an astounding 29 years!
New Book! Vintage Cars of Königsberg
The book is based on real events. It narrates the stories of people who, after the Siege of Königsberg in 1945, had the honour to own or use the cars that once belonged to the ‘great and good’ ~ kings, heads of state, ministers, bankers, actors and leading Königsberg townspeople.
The book comprises 18 chapters distilled from the memoirs of people from diverse backgrounds and all walks of life, including those who took part in the Battle of Königsberg, famous Soviet generals, doctors, actors, housewives, taxi drivers, traffic wardens, tram drivers and so on. The stories are different — some intricate, some formal, some sentimental, some dramatic and many very amusing.
With its imaginative page designs, detailed accounts and being lavishly illustrated throughout, this landmark publication demonstrates yet again Yuri Grozmani’s top-flight ability as a writer, journalist and editor, whilst the breadth and incisiveness of his research speaks volumes for his love of vintage vehicles, the history of their ownership and the unique city and region upon whose dramatic stage the vehicles’ life stories and the stories of those who travelled in and/or travelled through existence with them have been played out over the years.
To seal the historic occasion, Yuri completed the inscription on the inside front cover by penning in today’s date just before he handed my copy to me ~ 17 October 2020.
My wife was recently thrilled to discover that her birthday fell on the same day as Königsberg’s. On the 1st September 2020 Königsberg turned 756. Olga felt relieved and grateful that Königsberg was considerably older than her, whilst I feel like I am catching up with Königsberg every day that goes by.
On hearing about this coincidence of birthdays, I suggested that we show our respects to the old city on which Kaliningrad is founded by travelling to what was once the cultural and spiritual centre of Königsberg, the cathedral, and wish Königsberg a happy birthday.
Olga bought some flowers to mark the occasion, a pretty basket display, which she placed at the gate to Immanuel Kant’s tomb at the side of the 14th century cathedral. We then walked to the front of the cathedral, noting as we did that one section was undergoing renovation and that the cathedral parvis had been re-laid with cobbles in which a twin section of serpentine tram track had been sunk, thus creating a more accurate picture of how it once would have looked. Other improvements ~ some complete, some still work in progress ~ also caught our eye.
It was a beautiful day, as our photographs show; one of those early autumn days which brings people out in droves but winds them down into relaxation mode. It was not difficult, therefore, to get someone to take a photograph of us next to the model of Kneiphof Island, one of the three towns in the middle ages that comprised the city of Königsberg and the area in which the cathedral stands today.
This was all well and good, but we still had not yet toasted Königsberg.
Happy Birthday Königsberg
By and by, we found what we considered to be the perfect location on the elevated approach to the cathedral entrance. With my large vodka flask to hand, a kind and useful gift from our neighbours last Christmas, we accomplished our objective: Happy Birthday Königsberg!
Mick & Olga Hart: Happy Birthday Königsberg
Having respected history and become a small part of it ourselves, we took a slow stroll to the river bridge for more photographs in front of the Königsberg Stock Exchange and of the now complete Planet Ocean Exposition globe across the other side of the water.
There was one last visit to make. As we were in Victor Ryabinin territory, we decided to make the emotionally difficult but appropriate pilgrimage to the door of the building where Victor’s studio had been located. As Olga said, had Victor been here today he would have been with us and would have been proud to have toasted Königsberg’s birthday.
The building where the studio used to be is under scaffolding at the moment. We stood at the open entrance, and I saluted him and the building for all those memorable times we had spent together here.
Mick Hart at entrance to stairwell leading to the former Studio of artist Victor Ryabinin, Königsberg-Kaliningrad 2020
From Victor’s, we decided we would wend our way homewards via Kaliningrad’s famous war memorial. To do this we would have to cross over Dvukhyarusny Bridge. I hope that this bridge is preserved, as it is a landmark of the city. I love walking across the old buckled steel plate pathway that runs along the side of this bridge and gazing out across the Pregel River for the unique perspective it offers.
Dvukhyarusny Bridge, Kaliningrad 2020
Crossing over the busy road on the other side, it is possible to escape the traffic by following a section of road leading to the war memorial where traffic is restricted. This road climbs a hill between an avenue of mature trees with Victory Park on the left-hand side.
The Monument to 1200 Guardsmen is an awe-inspiring sight. Set in a vast semi-circular walled and paved space, a central obelisk, its ascending sections carved and embossed with WWII battle scenes, rises triumphantly into the sky; an ‘eternal flame’ burns in its foreground and the whole ensemble is flanked by two larger than life figural groups depicting soldiers charging into battle.
Obelisk at the Monument to 1200 Guardsmen, Kaliningrad, Russia, September 2020
Olga Hart, Eternal Flame, Kaliningrad
Olga Hart at 1200 Guardsmen Monument
We had our photographs taken here on the day of our wedding, 31 August 2001, and were fortunate enough to find two willing Kaliningradians to snap some photos today.
Olga and Mick Hart at 1200 Guardsmen Monument, Kaliningrad, September 2020
Not quite sure whether I had toasted Königsberg sufficiently, when I arrived back home I opened a bottle of beer and toasted it again ~ Happy Birthday Königsberg!
Victor’s grave is adorned with a headstone befitting the artist and the man
Published: 14 August 2020
Yesterday (Thursday 13 August 2020) a friend emailed a photograph to us of Victor Ryabinin’s recently completed and erected headstone. I was expecting the headstone to incorporate a photographic likeness of Victor’s face, as most gravestones in Russia seem to display a portrait of the deceased, but the image on Victor’s tombstone is more than that and all the more poignant for it.
It shows Victor sitting on a stool in his art studio. He is leaning nonchalantly in his chair, relaxed, unassuming, in tune with himself, his life and the world around him. His right arm is resting on one of his art-historian creations, his left arm cradling the base. The artwork is an assemblage, a composition of assorted Königsberg relics assembled icon-like within a frame, a symbolic reincarnation of parts that in their new unity pay homage to the unique bi-cultural character by which Victor defined the seamlessness of the Königsberg-Kaliningrad time continuum.
The image depicts a man forever and inextricably connected with the subject of his life’s work ~ Königsberg. It captures the eternal spiritual symbiosis that exists between each. It also captures the essence of the man himself: his unaffected attitude towards life and people, his open good-natured manner and his kind, calm and collected philosophical disposition.
Victor Ryabinin’s Headstone Königsberg
Victor was a larger than life person. He had a magnetic personality, first appreciated and then adored, and the fact that he is no longer part of life as we understand it is hard to accept, but the ethos and quality of this monument are a fitting tribute to him, both to the art-historian and the man.
When I look on this image it does not make missing him any easier. It captures who he was so well that it is difficult to gaze upon without wanting the yesterday we all once shared.
Consolation is all elusive, except for what we find in destiny and I cannot help believing in that respect that our loss is Königsberg’s gain.
Published: 18 July 2020 on the first anniversary of Victor Ryabinin’s death
Victor Ryabinin died on 18 July 2019
For those who knew him well, it has been a difficult 12 months. The first 12 months after someone dear passes away always is. There are so many occasions that memory will not let go of, everything becomes a commemorative anniversary of the last time, and it is virtually impossible not to fall victim to the ‘this time last year’ syndrome.
As the anniversary of Victor’s death closed in, it has also been impossible not to fall under the insidious spell of that morbid countdown: viz, this time last year Victor had only four weeks left to live … It is a macabre thought is it not, that last 60 seconds of life ticking inexorably away and then nothing? Not just the physical man himself gone but, as Leonard Cohen so eloquently puts it, “that tangle of matter and ghost”. A lifetime lost in a second. A unique loss of personality, thoughts, talent, experience, good nature, kindness, humanity. It is, indeed, a morbid thought, but as a friend of mine pragmatically said about death, “Well, you can’t stop it, can you?”
There is nothing much longer than eternity, but notwithstanding in the past 12 months those of us who were fortunate enough to be counted among Victor’s friends and those whom he taught and mentored have been just as busy preserving his memory as we have been cherishing it and missing him.
Book celebrating Victor Ryabinin’s work
As well as my blog, which is dedicated to Victor Ryabinin, to his artistic talent, to the magic that he found in and brought to Königsberg-Kaliningrad and to the man himself, one of Victor’s closest friends, Marina Simkina, herself an artist, has been working with writer and journalist Boris Nisnevich to bring to fruition a book about the life and work of this remarkable man: a thematically related text with essays, personal recollections, interviews, letters and poems which taken together speak of the rich legacy that Victor has bequeathed in his paintings, assemblages, collages and diaries and, for those of us who knew him personally, in the light that his sincerity, goodwill, open nature and profound interest in everything he heard or saw brought into our lives.
On the first anniversary of Victor’s death, I have added another article to the pages of my blog contributed by our friend Stanislov, whom Victor introduced us to shortly before he passed away
Catalogue of Victor Ryabinin’s work
Stas, as we know him, is actively involved in a project which will hopefully see the canon of Victor Ryabinin’s artistic work and his collection of Königsberg ‘relics’ housed and displayed in a permanent exhibition here in Kaliningrad. He also hopes to catalogue Victor’s work and produce a definitive version in print of the extraordinary talent of this man whose self-genre as Königsberg’s art-historian captured, celebrated and ultimately cast him as the spirit of the ruined city he had spent his life divining ~ the very Spirit of Königsberg.
Victor Ryabinin’s love affair with the interconnectivity of Königsberg’s past and Kaliningrad’s present, the surface paradox of two cultures hammered together in war but mysteriously wed by time and destiny, was as devotional as it was unconditional. For him, both transition and movement were seamless; it was the place itself that ‘drew people in’ as it had drawn him in.
Victor’s childhood impressions and art-historian perspective surpassed that of mere academia ~ he lived and breathed Königsberg. It was not a lifestyle choice; it was made for him; it was predestined. The symbiotic relationship that he formed with this special, this unique place, as he called the Königsberg.-Kaliningrad continuum, continually reminded him that his soul existed in two cultures, both Russian and German, and as much as he enjoyed anywhere else he intuitively knew he belonged nowhere else. He could not precisely say why, ‘I cannot explain this magic’, but as a child of Königsberg’s ruins he instinctively knew “this is my city”.
His city, represented symbolically through the artistic fusion of his childhood memories, the interaction between Gothic ruins and Hoffman’s Gothic fantasy, transcended time and place, engendering philosophical interpretations on a universal scale. His enduring belief in the insolubility of the past’s effect on the present and of existence viewed as a fantastic web of interconnectivity may suggest that whilst he had a definite sense of place and his place in it, he was also a child of the universe, but if so he was a prodigy.
In memory of Victor Ryabinin
The oft-cited opinion of those who were close to him, that he exhibited an almost childlike fascination in everything new that he saw or heard, was not a slight on his character but a character trait to be envious of. For the majority of people, interest, as with every other human faculty, slips further and further away from us the older we become, but not so with Victor, who remained alert, fascinated, enthralled to the last. Even in the latter days of his life, when in hindsight, by recourse to photographs of that time, he appeared discernibly older and more frail, he never lost his curiosity, he never grew old as others grow old, giving up his zest for life only when life itself decided that the time had come for him to paint his last picture, make his last entry in his pictorial diary and drink his last cognac with friends.
In the shadow of death and even more desperately in its gloomy, memory-filled aftermath, we rake among the embers not of the life that has passed, the life that has been extinguished, but in what remains of our left-behind lives, in hope of consolation.
But my consolation in Victor’s death lies in the certain knowledge that whilst we grieve for ourselves, we have no real need to grieve for him, for he has returned to the self-same spot where it all began. He is a child again in the ruins of Königsberg. His spirit has gone home. He is now a part of that history which so fascinated and clung to him from the moment of his birth. It is my belief that it never let go; he was just given to us on loan; and he drew us into Königsberg as he himself had been drawn in.
If you do not believe me just listen to and read the testimonials of those who knew him and what they have to say ~ his students, friends and colleagues. Through their words and their impressions, they seek to understand the mystical aura with which Victor was endowed. We may never comprehend it entirely, but we share one thing in common which is a sense of pride and privilege that in this ephemeral but interconnected world it was fortunately predetermined that our paths should cross with his.
We shall miss him always, forget him never.
Victor Ryabinin died on 18 July 2020 Forever Königsberg
