Архив рубрики: VISITOR’S GUIDE to KALININGRAD

Bottled Beer in Kaliningrad

Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)

Preface

Published: 21 June 2020 ~ Bottled Beer in Kaliningrad

Prompted by no other motivation than a love of beer drinking, I have decided to review some of the bottled beers I am drinking here in Kaliningrad, Russia, whilst the bars remain closed due to social distancing rules. This is the preface to a series of posts on that most hallowed of subjects, beer. It places my own beer-drinking experiences in a biographical and historical context and is a precursor to explaining how I am surviving without real ale in Kaliningrad, the alternative beers available and a personal review of the quality and marketing success of the bottled beers that I have sampled. As they say, it’s a tough job, but somebody has to do it!*

Bottled Beer in Kaliningrad

When I told fellow Brits that I was moving to Russia, three responses stick in my mind. The first, and the most obvious, was aghast amazement that I was leaving behind the most celebrated democracy in the world (Ha! Ha!). The second, a rather cynical comment on the number of times I visit the doctors, was made by one of my brothers: “It’s a long way to travel to see Dr Kelly each week!” And the third, “How are you going to survive without real ale?” The last one worried me.

I was a victim of the first wave of lager drinking, which infected the UK back in the 1970s. I will not call it a love affair, it was more like sex for sale. In those days, the UK pub industry was dominated by the Big Six ~ six major breweries that had consolidated their monopolies by buying up many smaller regional breweries and their tied houses and incorporating them into their business portfolio. Real beer had long since been challenged, and in many public houses replaced, by what CAMRA (the Campaign for Real Ale) pejoratively dubbed ‘fizz’, keg beer, which was spearheaded in the 1960s by the now infamous Watneys Red Keg Barrel, both brewer and beer having since become a cipher for poor quality, mass produced.

Watney Mann in Bulk — A former Watney’s brewery tanker reincarnated as a water tanker for farm use.
**(Photo credit: Roll Out Red Barrel;**
cc-by-sa/2.0 – © Michael Trolove – geograph.org.uk/p/1028498)

It is an irony of fate that the beer and the brewery which set out, and partly succeeded, in changing the drinking habits of the nation ended up as the beer-drinkers’ pariah.

Remember the Firkin pubs?

Of the many insults levelled at Watney’s, possibly the quintessential one, certainly the one that I remember best, was when the Flamingo and Firkin in Derby, one of the David Bruce-inspired craft-ale chain of pubs, refitted the gents toilet with an oversized water cistern masquerading as a Red Barrel. The barrel design, shade of red and even the Watney’s name emblazoned across the front in a typeface identical to the one that Watney’s used, was the pièce de résistance of piss taking, and in that respect it was in the right place.

Whilst no one can defend with any credibility the instigatory role that Watney’s played in the fizz revolution, Red Barrel was not alone for long. Who can forget the dubious delights of such mass-produced keg mediocrity as Ind Coope’s Double Diamond (‘Double Diamond Works Wonders’ ~ it didn’t) Whitbread Trophy (‘Whitbread Big Head Trophy Bitter the pint that thinks it’s a quart’ ~ well it would; it was all head, no strength and as inflatable as a hydrogen balloon) and Charles Wells’ Noggin (its bar-top beer-pump head made of wood to look like a nautical mooring post complete with rope wrapped around it, presumably to remind you that the 15 pence you had just spent was ‘money for old rope’).

The bland and sterile taste that these truly revolting beers left in one’s mouth was gradually, but then meteorically, replaced by something not dissimilar. It, too, was gassy, bland and sterile but sold well, thanks mainly to the money thrown at it in mass advertising campaigns that succeeded in hiding its meretricious nature behind a macho, blokey image, similar in aspiration to the rugged sexuality exploited by aftershave brands Brut and Hai Karate and enlisting the same flared trousers, tight-fitting tank tops and downturned droopy moustache approach.

Make way for lager

Initially, the lager market was aimed at female and young mixed clientele, but its rapid uptake quickly recommended it as a manly alternative to keg, escalating sales into brand warfare as brewers vied with one another to gas-tap their product into the number one slot.

My lagers of choice at that time were Lamont, Tuborg Gold and Tennent’s Extra. But the gold standard in lager for myself and my drinking confederates was undoubtedly Stella Artois, which, unfortunately, we could only seem to find in freehouses, and in our area these were few and far between.

My return to beer drinking and my induction into real ale is a vivid memory. It was 1979 and I was on a pub crawl in Norwich with a fellow student from the University of East Anglia, a chap called Clive. We had not known each other long, but long enough to know that we both liked beer. We met in the student’s bar on the then Fifers Lane campus. It was a full house that evening and a group of us were sitting on the floor surrounded by beer cans. Clive had just rolled in from a late game of squash. “A fitness fanatic,” I thought. I revised my opinion six pints later, but I have to say it was beer at first sight.

Clive was a Londoner and as such, insofar as beer-drinking trends were concerned, he was far ahead of the game than folk like myself who hailed from the sticks or from small provincial towns, places at that time where the only escape from the big brewers and their bog-standard fare was the occasional hard-to-find freehouse.

It was Clive who introduced me to real ale. We were in a pub overlooking Norwich market when Clive asked if I would like a pint of Director’s. As a lager drinker, used to less esoteric names, such as ‘Extra’, ‘Gold’ and ‘Red Stripe’, I remember thinking ‘what a bloody silly name for a beer’. Moreover, I had not drunk anything from a wooden handle pulled at the bar since my light and bitter days. Gas-tap beer was typically dispensed through a little plastic box with a light bulb behind it, whilst lager frothed and foamed worse than the liberal-left from out of conspicuous chromium taps, large, brassy and brazen things which over the years have become incredibly more stupid. Where does the light and bitter fit in? We were young when we started drinking in pubs, about 14 I think, but even then we eschewed Charles Wells’ bitter, which, unfortunately was a staple brew in most of the pubs in our area. We could drink it, but only ‘half-and-half’, that is a half pint of Charlie from the handpump diluted with light ale from the bottle.

Silly name or not, Directors was my first pint of real ale, and to me, at that time, it tasted like nectar. I was hooked from the first sip. Here, at last, was something different; something which had flavour!

All praise to CAMRA!

It was CAMRA (the Campaign for Real Ale) which revived the fortunes of real ale and put the final nail in the keg-bitter coffin. CAMRA launched a relentless campaign throughout the 80s and 90s, encouraging small and later micro-breweries to experiment with and increase their beer type and range and as the ‘cold tea’, as my cockney friend called ale, caught on the major brewers were forced to follow suit and up their real-ale ante to keep pace with the craft-beer experts.

Local beer guides and national Good Pub Guides coinciding with the arrival and development of the soon to become ubiquitous beer festival, which ranged from large-scale events featuring scores of brewers from around the country, fast-food outlets and live music to mini-festivals held in pubs, compounded and accelerated what for real legacy Britons such as myself is a unique and treasured part of our national heritage: proper beers and British pubs! No wonder that our saviour from the European Union, the indefatigable Nigel Farage, is himself a beer connoisseur!

Opening time at the Rushden Cavalcade beer tent c.2017

But these are troubled times, comrades. Coronavirus’s New Normal is sweeping across the land like an out-of-control temperance league and ideological agendas threaten British life with a rehashed version of British heritage. Our only hope is that beer-drinking patriots stand firm in the face of adversary. Keep the beer-drinking faith and stamp the virus out! Pubs are a national treasure and beer the jewel in its crown.

It is not ‘Time Gentleman, please’, yet gentlemen!

Bottled Beer in Kaliningrad

In the next astonishing instalment of Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers in Kaliningrad, we will see how exactly Mick Hart adjusted to the New Drinking Normal of no real ale!

*If you make your obsession your profession you will never work again ~ so some clever fellow once said. Well, I was fortunate to make one of my obsessions, beer, my profession for a while, and yes, if I had not moved on to something else, I might never have worked again! I was fortunate enough in my publishing career to work on and contribute to various licensed trade publications, hospitality titles, pub guides and drinkers’ manuals, which also gave me the opportunity to interview brewers, publicans and report on real ale and cider festivals. Consequently, I can vouch for the fact that you can have too much of a good thing, so I switched from drinks’ publications to medical ones, thus exchanging the fear of becoming an alcoholic for becoming a hypochondriac.

NEXT ARTICLE IN THIS SERIES: Variety of Beer in Kaliningrad

Plyushkin Bar & Restaurant Kaliningrad

Mama Mia Restaurant Kaliningrad

My wife has been nagging (they do, don’t they) for the past couple of days for me to leave the house and go outside, but the weather has been so awful that I have used it as an excuse to stay indoors and not get the fresh air that is so good for me.

Today, however, the sun came out and with my excuse rendered null and void I was forced to give in. We were off to the central market, and I had been told that it would be very beneficial for me if we walked, and besides I would enjoy it.

As it happens I did, but you don’t tell them that in a hurry.

On the way we took some photographs of some interesting bas relief work to some of the buildings close to the market.

We were off shopping for vegetables, and I must say that Kaliningrad’s covered market is such a joy to shop in (more of that later) that by the time we got there I had stopped complaining.

Loaded with all sorts of edibles that are not meat, we then decided to stop off somewhere for a spot of lunch.

We chose Mama Mia’s, a restaurant on the edge of Victory Square opposite the cathedral.

Mama Mia is a rather modern affair, certainly not the sort of place that I could wear my 1940s’ clothes in, but it is bright, comfortable and above all relaxing. On one side, the side we were in, you can look out of the windows and watch the world go by ~ I spotted a van with a large hammer and sickle motif stuck to it ~ or, for a slightly more reclusive experience, you can turn left where the room is divided up into larger seating areas favourable for group dining.

Mama Mia Restaurant

In here there are two rather interesting things: one, a wall-mounted water feature, which resembles a mirror but has water cascading down the inside of it; and two, a display of giant piano keys overlaid with outsized wooden portholes.

I was content to be in our little seats, seeing vans go by with hammers and sickles on them at a table where it is possible to flag the waiter’s attention literally at the press of a button.

We did not have the chance to use this communication mechanism, as we were straight in and ordering two ‘business lunches’. These are preset lunches at a very good price. I had Greek salad, soup and pizza accompanied by cranberry juice. My wife had chicken soup and chicken cutlets with brown rice, and between us, in a see-through teapot, we had freshly made ginger tea. The meals cost us £2.50 apiece and the speciality tea £1.70.

Mama Mia Kaliningrad — Comfortable and competitively priced: Mama Mia Restaurant, Kaliningrad, Russia

Shame on me, I did not partake of beer this lunchtime as I had a workout scheduled. But perhaps tomorrow night…

We snapped a few pictures whilst we were in there, caught a taxi home and I left one bag behind, had to go back for it and got nagged at for being дурак (silly)

That’s a nice thing to say to your husband, I’m sure.

Essential Details:

Mama Mia
Klover Siti Tsentr
Ploschtschad Pobedy 10,
Kaliningrad
Kaliningrad Oblast, 236006

Tel: 8 (401) 253 33 55

Opening times:
Everyday 10am to 12am

Kaliningrad City of Contrasts

No Laughing Matter!

Continuing with our theme of Kaliningrad City of Contrasts, I was out walking the other day and I came across this rather splendiferous example.

On one side of the road you have this spanking new block of flats; on the other, this rather sad and sorry ruined Königsberg cottage.

Kaliningrad City of Contrasts

Could the latter be restored, I hear you say? Or, is that just the sound of my own Romanticist fantasy ringing inside my head?

If I had a flat which faced the street in the new apartment block pictured here, every day I looked out of my window and beheld this ruined abode, I would be confronted with the question, is this building restorable?

I would need you there to laugh at me.

But something has to be built on this site at some time. So, let us rephrase the question: would it be possible to salvage something from this former home and integrate it into a new build as a historic feature?

You are laughing at me again!

But look at those marvelous chimney stacks, and is that an enamel sign peeping through the trees on the right-hand side? And who knows what may still be lurking on the inside under the debris? Perhaps one of those remarkable tiled Königsberg stoves; 1920s’ door handles; additions and renovations from the Soviet era. If nothing else, the red bricks have to be a reusable, recyclable commodity?

What’s that you say?

It would be easier to keep the curtains shut or buy a flat on the other side of the building.

Philistine!

Kaliningrad Architectural Contrasts

Kaliningrad a Place of Architectural Contrasts

February 8^th 2020 was a big day in Kaliningrad, to be more precise, it was Big Sausage Day*. Reputedly, it is the day that the ladies of Kaliningrad walk around with smiles upon their faces and quite a lot of the men most sensibly stay at home (source: anonymous). But not me. Unfazed by the reports of a giant object of cylindrical length being disported on the open streets, I set out, in defiance of the Vegetarian Society, one day late as usual.

The Big Sausage fest has become so popular here in recent years that it has undergone an extension, turning it effectively from a Big Sausage Day into a Big Sausage Weekend. Unfortunately, the huge and eponymous object makes its debut on Saturday morning. This year we had been invited to attend on Sunday and last year both I and our invitee were too hungover to attend. So, instead of reviewing how the Big Sausage went and where it went, I am going to make a few comments instead on the much-vaunted subject of ‘Kaliningrad: a place of contrasts’.

This expression is a stock-in-trade of most travelogues where Kaliningrad is concerned, and why not? It is a good one. The term is often applied to the striking and very often incongruous juxtaposition of architectural forms here in Kaliningrad.

Kaliningrad architectural contrasts

The connection between a whopping great sausage and architecture is not as obtuse as first it may seem. On the second day of this weekend’s event, the Big Sausage, understandably exhausted from Saturday’s exertions, goes into hiding, allowing the festivities to continue in a more circumscribed place. The venue this year was in the paved area surrounding one of Konigsberg’s restored monuments, the King’s Gate (more of which at another time).

Kaliningrad a place of architectural contrasts — Königsberg ‘s KIng’s Gate & Kaliningrad’s Soviet flats ~ a City of contrasts. Notice the old tram tracks!

Kaliningrad King’s Gate

You can see from the photograph supplied, the red-brick Gothic structure of the King’s Gate in the foreground (photographed from the back) and there in the background a long row of 1970s’ Soviet-built flats. Needless to say, the world’s most renowned architects eschew these rather than applaud them, but, like them or not, they are all part and parcel of Königsberg-Kaliningrad’s diverse and rich history.

In my humble vegetarianskee opinion, these flats could be employed to good purpose this time next year. By attaching a giant inflatable sausage from the rooftops, running from one end to the other, the venue for Second Sausage Day would be unmissable and the advertising potential for certain types of products phenomenal. Food for thought?

*The Long Sausage holiday has a long tradition. The medieval holiday was first held in Königsberg in 1520. Königsberg’s butchers cooked 16 metre’s of sausage and carried it around the city. The participants then ate the sausage, drank beer and danced. Today, the people of Kaliningrad continue the old tradition and enjoy the holiday of old Königsberg .

Plyushkin Bar & Restaurant Kaliningrad

Plyushkin Bar & Restaurant

Sadly, Plyushkin is now as deceased as it’s fictional namesake😥

It is not called ‘Lampshades’ but why not is anybody’s guess. Plyushkin (which is the name of a fictional character in Gogol’s novel Dead Souls) is a bar/restaurant located on a busy intersection in Kaliningrad opposite the Amber Museum. It is nice and central, and situated as it is on a bustling traffic hub, easy to get to by bus, mini-bus or tram. From the outside, it is deceptive, especially at night, when all that can be seen is a small foyer and the neon sign above it, but the bar/restaurant is below ground and once inside the place is truly TARDISial.

Plyushkin Bar & Restaurant Kaliningrad — Plyushkin bar & restaurant, Kaliningrad, where lampshades abound

Be that as it may, the furnishings, décor and lighting make for a very comfortable, cozy and inviting feel. When you stop marveling at the oversized lampshades, you are rendered agog by the seating arrangements. Where would you like to sit? It is not an easy choice. In Plyushkin no dining suite is the same as the next, although we narrowed down the selection from traditional table and dining-room chairs to low-slung settees and tables to match.

Plyushkin Bar & Restaurant Kaliningrad

The accent is upon old-world charm ~ reproduction antique furniture ~ but non-conformist enough to find walnut-veneer-framed divans sharing the same space as 1960s’ designs and Avant Garde spectaculars, such as one table which has a coiled rope columnar support, not dissimilar to a cat’s gigantic scratching post.

Along the side of one wall runs an eclectic series of mismatching sideboards and tallboys, both parodies from and originals to disparate eras. The walls and lateral ceiling supports are profusely covered in framed vintage photographs and prints, including one of a young Queen Elizabeth II (G’ord Bless yu Maam!), although one wall of painted brick has been left relatively clear with respect to the current industrial look.

Queen Elizabeth in a Kaliningrad Restaurant — Queen Elizabeth II in Plyushkin, Kaliningrad ~ that’s her on the wall by the way …

Pigs’ Snouts

The menu is deliberately ‘old style’ Russian, and whilst pig snouts in mustard sauce may not be everyone’s idea of culinary heaven, just think it could be worse, and there might have been a photograph in the menu.

Nevertheless, we have dined here four or five times, and my carnivore associates assure me that their choice of meals has been very tasty and value for money.

The bar is well stocked, leaving nothing to the imagination, and I can vouch for the beer. The cheapest is about 112 rubles (which is about £1.36), whilst the premium, which weighs in at around 7% gravity, is about 275 rubles (£3.33).

Service is spot-on, unlike some places I could mention ~ and no doubt will, as we get around.

Live music

All in all, Plyushkin is extremely atmospheric, and on Saturday evenings live music adds to the ambience. The pendant lampshades, of which there are many, are huge, creatively different and pose a curious question, if not ‘Lampshades’ why not ‘Not One the Same’? ~ both would make super alternative names.

Plyushkin bar & restaurant Kaliningrad. The bar area. — The bar area at the Plyushkin, Kaliningrad

Lenin says, “I’m always at the Plyushkin!”

Essential details:

Plyushkin Restuarant
Kaliningrad, pl.
Marshal Vasilevsky, 2

Tel: +7 (4012) 35 52 45

Kaliningrad: Secret holiday destination

A City of Contrasts

Preamble

Before going anywhere today, the first thing we do is consult the internet. If you undertake ~ or have already undertaken ~ an internet search of ‘Kaliningrad’ chances are that you will turn up, or have already turned up, a disproportionate amount of negativity. This is especially true of UK media articles, that is articles disseminated by the mainstream UK press, particularly articles written prior to and up to 2018, when Kaliningrad hosted the World Cup tournament in which England played against Belgium.

In the months leading up to the World Cup the concerted vitriol reached its apotheosis, which was rather unfortunate for the British press as, almost without exception, the majority of British fans who were not dissuaded from coming to Kaliningrad agreed that they had enjoyed themselves in Russia and in Kaliningrad in particular. So, it was a warm welcome for the British footer fans and a red face for the British media.

Since 2018, there has been a noticeable change in tone, with some, though not all, journalists adopting a more honest appraisal of Kaliningrad’s status as a tourist destination. Leading travel guides for English-language readers blaze the trail, using such words to describe Kaliningrad as ‘exciting, vibrant, a city and region of contrasts, fascinating, quirky and historically unique’.

Indeed, our late friend Victor Rybinin, artist and historian, defined its unique character as the combination of two cultures, first German and then Russian, and it is somewhere between this polarity that its fascination resides.

Königsberg: a city that refuses to die

Kaliningrad’s duality really begins at the close of WWII. Until that time it had been the capital of East Prussia, an imposing and noble city, boasting an architectural composition of Romanesque, Baroque and Gothic designs. Originally known as Königsberg, the city changed names when it changed people and country in 1946, the historical city of Königsberg having been all but extirpated from aerial bombing in 1944 and the Soviet siege and battle of 1945. From 1946 onwards, Königsberg, now renamed Kaliningrad, and the territory surrounding it, was absorbed by the Soviet Union.

Home to the Baltic Fleet, and of strategic geo-political importance, the area became a closed domain and remained this way until the collapse of the Soviet Union. The dissolution of the satellite Baltic states in the 1990s and their subsequent harvesting by the European Union created a physical and psychological barrier ~ physical in that the Kaliningrad region is separated by countries unallied to Russia, psychological in the sense that this little piece of land, the westernmost outpost of the Russian Federation, has become a political/military bogeyman for the West to rattle its sabres at ~ little wonder, therefore, that it is ringed with NATO bases! Never mind, it does not worry the locals, so it need not worry you.

History is Kaliningrad’s speciality

For the history buff, especially those interested in WWI, WWII and the Cold War, Königsberg-Kaliningrad has plenty to offer. The city contains a number of wartime monuments and museums and so many underground shelters that I have often amused myself whilst travelling from one side of the city to the next by taking part in my own spot the bunker competition. One of the bunkers, the aptly named Museum Bunker, is open to the public. It is very Nazispheric and replete with military history exhibits.

Kaliningrad: Secret holiday destination — Spot the German bunker competition

The most obvious examples of Königsberg’s military history predate the conflicts of the 20^th century, although, like every building in the beleaguered city of 1945, they played a not inconsiderable defensive role in the final battle for Königsberg.

Königsberg was a fortress city, which, by the middle and the late 19^th century, was heavily defended by two continuous rings of red-brick forts joined by an elaborate network of slit walls, bastions, gates, ramparts and crenelated towers. A prodigious proportion of both defensive rings is extant today, thanks to their solid construction, the determination of local history groups to conserve them and considerable restoration investment. Some of the forts now house museums; others are work in progress.

Königsberg fort — One of Königsberg’s inner circle of forts

Moat surrounding one of Königsberg's forts. Kaliningrad: Secret holiday destination — Moat surrounding one of *Königsberg’s* forts in the outer ring

Smaller relics both of Königsberg and from its military past can be found in any one of the city’s antique shops and ~ joy of all joys ~ at the city’s central street market. This haven for collectors has evolved into a boot fair/flea market hybrid, selling all manner of WWII and Soviet relics along with remnants of Königsberg itself.

One of the most atmospheric, or should that be claustrophobic, reminders of the Cold War is the Soviet submarine which is moored at the side of the Pregolya (German: Pregel) River on a bankside development mainly devoted to other marine vessels, museums and education centres under the auspices of the World Ocean Museum.

Soviet Submarine. Kaliningrad: Secret holiday destination — Soviet submarine, Kaliningrad

Kaliningrad’s Amber Museum is possibly the most well-known museum in the city and its territory. It was established in 1972 and occupies one of the inner-circle forts on the bank of one of Kaliningrad’s lakes (the correct terminology for which, I am told, is ‘pond’ ~ which makes it a very big one!) This, incidentally, is the same tower depicted in various YouTube videos, on which victorious Russian troops hoist the Soviet flag high across the war-torn landscape which, in 1945, is all that remained of Königsberg ~ at least in its physical form.

Kaliningrad amber

The Amber Museum, Kaliningrad — Amber Museum, Kaliningrad, Russia

Established in the richest amber-producing area in the world, the Amber Museum holds impressive and ornate examples of artisan craftsmanship, and both the city and coastal resorts are dotted with specialist amber shops, supplemented by market stalls specialising in every conceivable manifestation of amber-work imaginable and in all its various hues ~ jewellery, souvenirs, framed pictures, clocks, statues, household goods … the list is seemingly endless.

Exotic amber jewellery, Kaliningrad, Russia

Coastal resorts of the Kaliningrad region

The largest coastal resorts, Svetlogorsk and Zelenogradsk, are respectively a mere thirty and forty-five minutes away from Kaliningrad city centre by car, train, taxi or bus. As both towns are extensively populated with shops and stalls selling amber, and as the amount and range of goods for sale is little short of amazing, amber hunters visiting these resorts can combine their shopping expedition with a relaxing day by the sea.

Svetlogorsk (German: Rauschen) is a traditional coastal spa resort nestled on an undulating headland, sprinkled with fir and beech woods, in which quaint German houses of Hoffmanesque character peep out from within small enclaves of trees.

High Gothic. Kaliningrad Holiday Destination — High Gothic, Svetlogorsk, Russia

In recent years, renovation and large-scale investment has, like Kaliningrad, made this a place of contrasts and with it evoked controversy. Lavish and extravagant villas, high-rise buildings, even an entire street reconstructed in retrospective styles, have inevitably been precipitated by its growing popularity as a well-appointed, attractive coastal retreat.

Half-timbered reconstruction, Svetlogorsk, Russia

The, in my opinion, outsized multicomplex theatre and shopping centre, constructed in Svetlogorsk in 2015, seems to have been accepted, but there is decidedly less tolerance for what many see as a disproportionate extension to the seafront promenade, an enormous elevated walkway that has robbed Svetlogorsk of some of its little sandy beach and is destined to serve as the frontage for a parade of grand hotels and exclusive sea-view apartments. This notwithstanding, the older parts of Svetlogorsk are resolutely anchored by firm historical roots which, at the time of writing, continue to nurture the fairy tale.

Entertainment centre, Svetlogorsk, Russia

Zelenogradsk (German: Cranz) is by far the better option if sandy beaches are your thing. In German times, Cranz was considered to be the first resort and Rauschen the second, a position reversed in Soviet times and persisting to this day, but my prejudice is gradually moving in favour of Zelenogradsk. With its broad, golden swathe of beach, wide service-filled promenade, interesting beach-side cafes and restaurants offering unobstructed views of the sea, and its calm and easy serpentine high street containing many fine old buildings, some tastefully renovated others honestly gnarled and time-weathered, and not forgetting its awe-inspiring sunsets, a heavenly fusion of the sublime and surreal, Zelenogradsk for me is the perfect seaside retreat.

As stated previously, Svetlogorsk and Zelenogradsk are the two main regional coastal resorts, but they are not the only ones along this stretch of the Baltic coastline. Smaller and more secluded places await the intrepid traveller!

Secret Holiday Destination ~ Kaliningrad — Sandy beaches hidden away on Kaliningrad’s Baltic coatline

For nature lovers, and lovers of the great outdoors, the Kaliningrad region’s jewel in the crown is indubitably Korski Spit (the Curonian Spit) ~ a long (98km) narrow sand dune that arcs from the Kaliningrad region into south-west Lithuania, with the Curonian Lagoon on one side and the Baltic Sea coast the other. Carpeted with pine forest, and intricately laced with white sandy dips and hollows, this Unesco World Heritage Site is a phenomenal natural landscape and a natural habitat for a multitude of bird, animal and plant species. Wooden pathways constructed by volunteers permit the traveller to enjoy the natural beauty of the Curonian Spit whilst preserving the fragile ecosystem. It is along one of these that you are invited to walk to the Dancing Forest ~ so named because of the coiled and twisted nature of its trees. Visitors to the Spit will find viewing platforms from which to appreciate the beauty of both land and seascape, level cycle trails, and cafes tucked away in quiet little woodland glades. As for guest houses in this protected part of the Kaliningrad region, such are not prolific, although you may be lucky and find one in one of the two small secluded settlements hidden away on the Spit.

Meanwhile, back in Kaliningrad, no reference to its historic past would be complete without acknowledging the enduring presence of Königsberg Cathedral. A mere husk after the war, sterling work, much effort, considerable investment and skill has seen this fine specimen of 14^th century Gothic architecture restored to an unbelievable standard. In the daytime its unmistakable profile hints at the glory of what once was; in the twilight its silhouette is an eerie reminder of total war and the obliteration that still haunts this city.

Kaliningrad: ‘City of Contrasts’

Victory Square Kaliningrad Russia — Kaliningrad: Victory Square

The label a ‘city of contrasts’ is as good as one as any to try to hang on a place which is as enigmatic as it is ambiguous. Modern-day Kaliningrad is vibrant and bustling ~ new apartment blocks, expensive reconstructions cast in the mould of its Königsberg predecessors, an eclectic array of bars, cafes, restaurants and clubs, brand-spanking international hotel complexes rub shoulders with down-at-heel swathes of Soviet-era concrete flats, all sharing the same physical and spiritual space as the monuments to and memories of the ruins from which they have grown ~ Königsberg.

Original Königsberg building, Kaliningrad, Tourist Destination — Original Königsberg building, Kaliningrad

Epilogue

When I began writing this article, I had envisaged a succinct work of some 500 to 600 words. The fact that I have greatly exceeded that is testament to the great variety of things to see and do here, within Kaliningrad itself and its outlying region, and whilst I have deliberately focused on some of the more prominent, more defining features unique to this special place, those that I have not mentioned ~ of which there are many ~ less known, perhaps, but equally deserving, are urging me to write about them and, more importantly, for you to come and discover them for yourself.

Tour Guide/Accommodation

English-speaking visitors to this region are welcome to contact us on email Königsbergmick@mail.com. We provide a friendly, personal tour guide/interpreter service tailored to your requirements. We also offer accommodation (maximum two people).

The Tilsit Treaty and Rhythms of Kaliningrad

19 October 2019

The former Königsberg Stock Exchange, aka the Khudozhestvennaya Galereya, is home to a permanent exhibition, the title of which is The Shadow of Königsberg. It also holds temporary exhibitions on a regular basis. Two exhibitions attracted us recently, Alexander I and Napoleon Meeting on the Neman and Rhythms of Kaliningrad.

The Königsberg Stock Exchange (now the Khudozhestvennaya Galereya) is an impressive two-storey Neo-Renaissance-style building, which stands on the southern side of the Pregel River.

The grand building, which opened in 1875, was the work of architect Heinrich Muller and Emil Hundrieser, the latter to which is owed the external decoration, including the allegorical figures at roof-top level and the two lions on either side of the entrance steps.

As with most of Königsberg’s municipal buildings, the Stock Exchange suffered extensive damage when bombed by the RAF in 1944 and again during the Siege of Königsberg in 1945. It is believed that it narrowly escaped the systematic demolition programme of what remained of Königsberg after the war, as the new owners and powers that were ~ the Soviets ~ identified Russian Neo-Classical features in its construction (pphhhewww!). Since the building was reprieved, reinstated and reconstructed in 1967, it has passed through various transitions and is today one of Kaliningrad’s most important, and unequivocally, one of its most regal cultural centres [see the Tripadvisor website for photographs of this magnificent building].

Khudozhestvennaya Galereya

Stock Exchange Konigsberg — Napoleonic exhibition

The Khudozhestvennaya Galereya stages changing exhibitions on a regular basis. The building can accommodate two or three exhibitions at any one time, depending, of course, on the size, using dedicated and versatile screening facilities. To the right of the entrance hall and on the second floor, space is reserved for a permanent exhibition, The Shadow of Königsberg, which traces the history of this unique city and region through the turbulent transitions of its 20^th century history. Whether you are a professional historian, amateur historian, budding history scholar or are simply fascinated by the changing fortunes and character of Königsberg-Kaliningrad, The Shadow of Königsberg provides a pictorial timeline of indelible significance through drawings, sketches, paintings and photographs, supported by detailed models and electronic simulation. Its depiction of pre-war Königsberg in contrast with its post-war ruins and subsequent Soviet inheritance and legacy, that of life lived for three decades among weed-strewn, crumbling buildings, a hollowed out shell of a once noble city, has a pathos seldom encountered in the modern world we inhabit today.

Mick Hart Konigsberg Stock Exchange at Tilsit Exhibition — I really would like this poster …

Alexander I and Napoleon Meeting on the Neman

The exhibition, Alexander I and Napoleon Meeting on the Neman [River], opened in the former Königsberg Stock Exchange building, now a cultural centre, on 19 October 2019 and runs until 15 December 2019. The exhibition is dedicated to one of the two Tilsit* Treaties, that which took place on 7 July 1807 following Napoleon’s victory in Friedland. The treaty, which was well-satirised in the British press of the time, examples of which are included in the exhibition, is unforgettable not least because it took place on a purpose-built raft anchored in the middle of the Neman River. But its real importance was the ensuing impact it had on regional and world geo-politics. The principal loser of the treaty was Prussia, which was forced to surrender almost 50 percent of its territory. Russia and France achieved a peaceful settlement, a settlement which not all Russian’s were agreeable to, but the peace only lasted five years: in 1812 Napoleon returned to the Neman River, crossing it this time with invasion in mind. Be this as it may, the treaty inspired numerous artistic representations, both in Europe and Russia. And this is what this exhibition is dedicated to.

The exhibition contains about 60 exhibits from the collection of The State Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg, including paintings, drawings and sculptures, as well as original uniforms of Russian and French soldiers and is complemented by works contributed by the Kaliningrad Museum of Fine Arts and Private Collections.

*Tilsit was renamed Sovetsk when the East Prussian region changed hands at the close of World War II. It is located in the Kaliningrad Oblast.

Rhythms of Kaliningrad

The Rhythms of Kaliningrad exhibition comprised an eclectic selection of art ~ paintings, sketches, drawings, sculptures ~ and even elaborate contributions from the Kaliningrad region’s world-renowned amber industry, examples of which included handmade jewellery of the most imaginative and exquisite calibre, highly detailed icons and an urn of Classical and Baroque form lavishly adorned. Designer clothing, handmade and avant-garde, added an unpredictable dimension to what was already an exotic and exhilarating showcase of regional artistic talent.

Taken as a collection, the thematic denominator subsumes the randomness of each subject into a distillation, and the compendium of impressions is a lyrical exposition that neither aggrandises nor underestimates the unique heritage, urban environment and natural images by which it is informed but rather acknowledges them and celebrates them as a compound expression of an esoteric experience. Sunsets across water, abstracts, natural landscapes, urban landscapes, pseudo-incarnations of Königsberg’s nobility ~ the castle and the city’s monuments ~ (none of which ever existed in the modern artist’s memory), Expressionism, Impressionism, Surrealism, Realism, Painterly and the rest, a gamut of artistic subjects and the styles through which they are brought into being vying to define, striving to encapsulate what it is about this place, this city and its territory, that draws you inexorably into its soul.

A personal reflection

Sherbak-Pyankova artist Konigsberg villa at Rhythms of Kaliningrad Exhibition. — Haunting painting of Konigsberg by Sherbak-Pyankova

In delivering the essence of the exhibition’s title, Rhythms of Kaliningrad, no one artwork should be singled out for being lesser or greater than the others in its company, but spectators and critics alike are fickle, prone, as we all are, to the common human failing for putting personal preference before impartiality, and thus although I would shy away from the impossible task of deciding which work of art was the best, whatever the given criteria, there was, inevitably, one among the paintings which resonated resoundingly with my not altogether impartial predilection for the sublime and metaphysical.

This painting was by the artist Sherbak-Pyankova. It was the study of a Königsberg house, a villa, set back in its own grounds, surrounded by its own garden, demarcated by iron railings with a wrought iron gate of unusual splendour.

Naturally, reliant on the theme of the exhibition, the subject matter in and of itself was not by any means a surprising leap into incongruity, but to narrow down the appeal criteria not to what had been painted but the way in which it had been painted ~ no, more, much more than this ~ the manner of its composition, its inherent composition and the intrinsic affect it had upon me, is how I would like to proceed.

In this respect I have no inclination to classify the artist’s technique within a particular school or style, because by doing so I would by default promote taught technique above inspirational teaching and, ultimately, individual creativity. My attraction to this piece of work was at once instantaneous ~ an impulse, a reaction ~ the rationalisation that ensued, if indeed you can call it this, being a process of thought, of mind.

When I first examined the painting I was, as is the norm, standing relatively close to it.

The outlines of the house were distinct enough but the details, although present, impressed me with the notion that they were fading before my eyes. It was as though my view was partially obscured or obfuscated by a thin veil, or a light film, as though the building was slipping away from me. Suspecting the fault lay in my eyesight, I stepped back a few paces and took another look. From my new, more removed, position, unless I was mistaken, the subject on which I now gazed had developed a clarity hitherto unseen. Encouraged by this promising shift in perspective, I removed myself still further, at which greater distance the details became so clear that I could well have been standing outside the house itself, next to the ornate gate, not viewing it on canvas.

So now I began walking slowly back towards the picture and, as I did, I was relieved to discover that the suspicions about my eyesight were unfounded. With each step that I took the mist that had so impeded my vision from the moment I looked upon the picture was, by stealth and with steady degrees, returning.

I repeated the exercise, just to make certain.

I was of the understanding that the further I removed myself from the Königsberg house the closer I came to it, or it to me; conversely, the closer I came to the house, the further away it became, until almost evaporating.

This inversion of physics bemused as much as the metaphysics eluded, but then, with a Eureka moment, Romanticism kicked in and the haze before the house, being the haze behind my eyes, lifted in the subjective sunlight.

Of course, the visibility of the house was so much better delineated from a distance. The distance between myself and the house was not the insoluble distance of time that I had first believed it to be, but in fact quite the reverse. The further I walked away from the house the closer I came to Königsberg. Walking back was walking back in time towards the point of origin. But when I approach the house, in an attempt to go backwards, I walk back into the present, Königsberg slips from my grasp and all that I am left with is the hazy, phantasmagorical image of something I aspire to see, to experience in the physical world.

Sherbak-Pyankova artist: Konigsberg street , shown at Rhythms of Kaliningrad Exhibition — Konisberg street by *Sherbak-Pyankova*

This painting, and a second painting of a street in Königsberg-Kaliningrad by the same artist, got both my vote and my wife’s Olga’s before we knew anything about either the artist or her mentor. However, given the profound effect that her work had on us, it should not have surprised us to learn that the artist she had studied under, and had an enduring respect for, was a mutual friend ~ Victor Rybinin.

Victor had taught art for many years at the Kaliningrad Art School. He had, as he said, ‘grown up among the ruins of Königsberg’ and was ‘the product of two cultures’; he invested his entire life in the philosophical, artistic and historic exploration of the Königsberg-Kaliningrad continuum. As our artist and historian friend Stanislav Konovalov said, who had himself been taught by Victor, Victor’s artistic representations came from the heart, they are each and every one imbued with a symbolic mysticism, a profundity, a deep soulfulness which emanates from his appreciation of and unwavering love for Königsberg-Kaliningrad, always described by Victor, with characteristic understatement, as ‘this unique place’.

That none of Victor Rybinin’s art saw inclusion in the Rhythms of Kaliningrad exhibition is a sorrowful oversight, particularly since those who knew him and who know his art share the conviction that he was and will remain a principal figure in the city’s and its region’s cultural history ~ history being the final judge.

Romanticist attribution or irony of fate? Either way it is an uncanny coincidence that we should choose as favourite the painting which we chose today …

Essential Details:

(Khudozhestvennaya Galereya) Königsberg Stock Exchange

Prospekt Leninskiy 83

Kaliningrad

Kaliningrad Oblast, 236039

Map location: https://en.kaliningradartmuseum.ru/contacts/

Tel: 8 (4012) 46-71-66

Email: secretariat@kaliningradartmuseum.ru

[Website checked but not working on 12 April 2022]

Opening times:

Sat, Tues & Wed: 10.00 ~ 19.00 (10am to 7pm)

Thurs & Fri: 10.00~21.00 (10am to 9pm)

Closed Monday

Apartment Museum Kaliningrad (Königsberg)

10 November 2019

Our second cultural day in a row (yesterday we attended an unusual art exhibition) found us heading off for a guided tour around a flat that had belonged to a Königsberg merchant in the early 20^th century. I had heard of this flat from our dear friend Victor Ryabinin ~ artist, philosopher, historian (sadly now deceased) ~ who had, as with all things Königsberg, stimulated my curiosity by informing us that the flat in question had been preserved, and restored where necessary, in all its original glory.

The flat we were going to visit today is located at 11-1 Krasnaya Street, Kaliningrad. The official name of the venue is simply but effectively ‘Apartment Museum’. A century ago, it was the home of merchant and grocery store owner, Gustav Grossmann, and his family. As the advertising leaflet boldly and honestly claims, the authentic interior allows you to ‘travel back a hundred years’ and experience life ‘as a citizen of Eastern Prussia’.

Public interest in and success of the project had prompted the exhibition owner to invest in a retro café on the site of Grossmann’s original store, which is located in the same building as the merchant’s flat, and it was here that we were rendezvousing with friend and Königsberg historian Stanislav Konovalov, known to us as Stas.

Gustav Grossmann Konigsberg Cafe — Apartment Museum, Kaliningrad 2019: Shop & Cafeteria

The café, which is housed in a corner section of the historic apartment building, extends from the main structure out towards the pavement. The entrance to Grossmann’s apartment is recessed, away from the pavement, a small flagstoned area leading to the front door, and can therefore be easily missed. However, the café signage does a wonderful job, calling your attention to a building of stature, which is distinctive and old-world gentrified thanks predominantly to the large show window on the ground floor and above it on the first and second floors the unusual arched windows.

The lower window has been fitted out with shelving and, even before we climbed the small flight of steps leading to the café entrance, it excited us to see a variety of bygone items beckoning us inside. The artefacts displayed included, but were not limited to, kitchen pans, clothes’ irons, ceramic pots, oil lamps and the stock in trade of antique emporiums in this part of the world, the ubiquitous German stein.

Grossmann Retro Cafe Konigsberg — Gustav Grossmann Cafe, Kaliningrad

Anyone obsessed with the past could tell, from the demeanour of the building and the items displayed in the window, that you would not be disappointed when you stepped inside. The interior of the building has been subject to a complete and comprehensive retro makeover, with so much by way of antiques and collectables adorning shelves, festooned on the walls, cuddling in cabinets, swinging from the ceiling and dotted here and there that ~ as it is with the nature of such places ~ it was impossible at first glance and even ten minutes afterwards to take everything in. Certain features, however, made their mark and stayed there. Behind the front counter, for example ~ a long counter and one of impressive height ~ wall-to-ceiling shelving has been erected, and this shelving, consisting as it does of different sized compartments, the top section reserved for larger items such as a pair of antique radios, is occupied by a mixture of vintage and antique objects rubbing shoulders with the modern accoutrements that are vital for running a business like this, such as branded cups and saucers, selections of teas, different kinds of coffee varieties and so on. The café till, which may be modern, appears on the customer side of the counter as though it is made of wood, whilst the coffee machine, all made of shining chrome, is, in shape and appearance, an icon of the 1950s. Indeed, not everything in the café was what we English would call Edwardian or of early 20^th century origin: the radio in the window, which has most likely been fitted with an electronic player, was post WWII, although the music it aired pre-dated it as late 1920s or 30s.

Window Seat, Apartment Museum, Kaliningrad

As with the interior décor no expense in detail had been spared with regard to the café’s furniture, all of which has a heritage background, from the open-sided armchair beside the counter to the two armchairs and circular salon table in front of the window. As these chairs were occupied by patrons, who were studiously observing an unwritten code of conduct, which is, or so it would seem, to adhere to a kind of library silence in the presence of the past, we took up temporary residence in the only seats available, Olga on a dining chair with a Rococo-style splat and myself on an interesting settle, which was comfortably upholstered and had, at either end, small fitted cabinets with carved, pierced fronts.

Partaking of tea in Apartment Museum Cafe ~ *Königsberg*

Tea was served in two dish-shaped china cups with matching saucers, backstamped Konig… . We could not make out the exact wording, but we felt certain that the proprietor of this establishment would not have trusted us with an original Königsberg tea service.

Vintage tea cup Altes Haus — Vintage china tea cup, Gustav Grossmann Cafe, *Königsberg*

More or less observing the silence that everyone else was bound to, we drank our tea and continued our visual assessment, taking in the various enamel-fronted advertising signs that no antique-oriented premise should ever be without and recognising three wall-mounted cast-iron signs as tram destination plates, each bearing the number of a specific tram and the Königsberg districts which each tram had served. These distinctive and, I should imagine, highly sought-after Königsberg mementoes, which remembered the route that specific trams took, I had only seen once before and that was in the art studio of our late friend Victor Ryabinin.

Apartment Museum Cafe sells antiques

Alas, these plaques were not for sale, but some of the items were. There were three large wood and glass display cabinets containing all manner of small antique pieces ~ ceramics, tableware, relics from Königsberg ~ as well as some larger items, such as a silver-topped walking cane and a silk top hat, all of which could be purchased. Both Olga and I took an interest in the two-tier, Art Nouveau plant stand, which was slightly more unusual than the standard fare, but as the asking price was considerably higher than that which I would normally expect to pay for a similar piece in England, our interest remained just that.

We finished our tea and now that Stas had arrived and wanted a smoke, we joined the other interested parties who were waiting outside on the damp and chilly streets for the venue to open.

As 11am came and went Stas took the initiative to ring the doorbell. And seconds later the door was opened by a tall lady appropriately dressed Edwardian style, that is in a high-necked blouse and long woolen dress fastened and highlighted around the waist by an enamel-buckled cinch belt.

We were shown in to the communal hallway of the building, a spacious entrance hall with a flight of six or seven steps to the ground-floor landing, beyond which could be seen a rather imposing wooden railed staircase.

The door to the time capsule we were about to enter was mid-brown wood, with long vertical paneling , the upper section letting in light through a series of small windows, the glass inside being of the wire-reinforced variety. Our little entourage filed one by one inside and as we passed ~ me gratefully ~ from the 21^st century into the past, I pointed out the doorbell to Olga, which was housed in a metal plate wrought into a typical and prepossessing Art Nouveau design.

Art Nouveau Apartment Museum Kaliningrad — Art Nouveau doorbell, Apartment Museum, Kaliningrad

The corridor inside the flat was rather narrow and, indeed, we were soon to discover that this merchant’s flat was of no great proportion anywhere. Naturally, the space was made considerably less by the unusual volume of people that it now occupied, all at once milling and jostling as they tried to divest themselves of their outer winter garments to place in temporary storage within the deep, but not very wide, cloakroom reserved for this purpose.

Naturally, the initial impact of the transition from now to then, from new to old, would be better served with less people present, but ventures such as these need to be administered and maintained, and I would anticipate that the fee for a private viewing might prove cost-prohibitive. Nevertheless, I did find room to reflect on how reserved and dignified Mr Grossmann’s hallway was, with its black and white tiled floor, tall dark doors fitted with ornate and heavy brass handles and its wonderful bygone telephone, equipped with open cradle and sporting a large pair of bells.

Open-plan design

When we were all partially disrobed, so to speak, we were led into the living quarters, which was fundamentally one large room divided into two halves by the simple decorative effect of wooden vertical frames and pierced and moulded fretwork where the uprights meet the ceiling.

The door through which we had entered had taken us effectively into the living room/study. In the corner of the room, in front of the window, was a desk with shelves and drawers in all the usual places and with more incorporated in the elevated section of a glazed cabinet super structure. The desk held various interesting and curious pieces, including the first typewriter I had seen manufactured by Mercedes Benz. Next to the desk there was a large double-fronted glazed cabinet, containing many antique artefacts, and next to that a small sofa and copper-topped circular table.

This table was one for us. It had a built-in standard lamp, with a large bell-shaped fabric lampshade centred above it, c.1920s. Other objects of interest in this part of the room included a small, circular gramophone table complete with horn-type gramophone, a very nice carved and stuffed-over seat corner chair, used here as a desk chair, and various wall-hung paintings and antique ornaments.

Mr Grumpy (photograph withheld)

One thing that Olga had not forewarned me about was that Stas would be translating as the guide spoke, and Stas, in turn, had not been forewarned that Mr Grumpy was present. Mr Grumpy took umbrage at Stas’ mumblings in English, and even after Stas had explained his intent and purpose, Mr G could not quite permit himself the liberty of graciousness, turning every now and then to scowl at us, until eventually he slid away. At first I felt myself lean charitably in his direction, after all had not he paid for the tour like everyone else? ~ so why would he want to be distracted by Stas’ infernal utterances? But by and by I noticed that he was pretty much dissatisfied with everybody and everything. Perhaps his wife had dragged him there when he should have been in the bar? (If that had been the case, then it was perfectly understandable!)

Mick Hart Kaliningrad — Gustav Grossmann? No, Mick Hart at Gustav’s desk!

The guide’s talk continued for some time but the duration was necessary as we were not after all in the Palace of Versailles but in a very small, lower middle-class apartment, which, had the guide whipped us through, would have no doubt had Mr Grumpy demanding his entrance fee back!

Judging by the reaction of the rest of the group, with the omission of Mr Grumpy, the guide’s efforts appeared to meet with universal appreciation. Even with my sparse knowledge of Russian I could tell that she was a good speaker, instigating and maintaining interest and adding to it, from time to time, by drawing our attention to certain curious items, which she passed around for people to hold and examine, asking if anyone knew what they had been used for in their previous life. This technique was adopted throughout the tour, and, I am proud to say, I got most of the items right, except for a small pagoda-style, black-lacquered miniature house which, it transpired, had been a pet sanctuary for crickets, no less. As they say, and quite rightly so, you learn something new every day.

The second half of the room into which we had first been shown functioned as the dining area, the taper-legged table and simple but appealing early 20^th century chairs occupying centre place. Behind the table, set against the wall, stood a typical Könisbergian lump of a sideboard. I do not mean to sound disparaging, since these heavy, massy pieces of furniture typically adorned with heraldic and armorial appliques and supported on chunky ball and claw feet or, as in this example, large lion pads, solicit the Gothic in me, but I fully understand that their dominating presence is not, as we English are wont to say, everyone’s cup of tea.

Apartment Museum magnificent fireplace/stove

In this instance, however, it was the fireplace that got the better. Here we had a typical German glazed-tile fire-come-boiler affair ~ a masonry heater ~ distinguished above any I had seen hitherto, with the possible exception of one very ornate example, which may or may not be original, which resides within a hotel bar on a picturesque stretch of the river a few kilometers from Königsberg.

The fireplace we were privy to today owed its impressive status to its two-tiered format, and the fact that the decorative tiling was taken up from floor to ceiling, the top being surmounted with a rather elaborate carved and scrolled finial.

The metal grate doors at the lower level of the boiler also expressed an Art Nouveau intricacy, the artistic quality of which I have not witnessed elsewhere in this region.

Overall, the furnished and decorative note struck in Mr Grossmann’s flat was a mellow and conservative one, possessing and conveying an unaffected dignity. Towards this consummation the doors, all of which exhibited the same uniformity of design, added not a little. In fact, they stamped an authority of social standing on the nature of this abode, their dark-wood, tall and sober character surmounted by a dignifying architectural gable pediment.

Crotchless bloomers

The next stop on the itinerary was the bedroom. It was not at all very spacious and the two wooden single beds pushed together to make a pseudo double bed allowed for nothing more than a cabinet and a dressing table. The most remarkable bygone in this room was the mannequin, or rather the female underwear in which it was dressed, of which the principal feature was the long pantaloons. These, our guide revealed, were split-crotched in the most significant manner, which, my wife concluded, explained why men in the early 20^th century made such an eager audience when young ladies danced the can-can.

Apartment Museum Guide Kaliningrad — Apartment Museum guide, Kaliningrad

You see what I mean when I say, ‘you learn something new every day’.

We could not all get into the confines of the bed chamber, so some of us were necessitated to undertake our viewing from the hall, along which we then walked, as instructed by our guide, to the kitchen.

Nowhere does bygone domestic life impress itself more contrastively than in the kitchen setting. The kitchen décor of our modern age and the implements we use therein would seem so thoroughly futuristic from an early 20th century point of view, and also more recently for those who lived in the 1940s, as to make them impossible to envision. In years gone by kitchen items were heavy, solid-state, screwed, riveted, mechanical; they were constructed from metal and glazed stoneware, cast and wrought iron, and they were obviously made to last, which is why they are still with us. A few people aspire when they behold kitchens of yester-year to recreate something similar in their own home as a retro statement, but few people ~ only those of the most stalwart nature with a near to obsessive love of obsolescent times ~ are willing to go the whole hog, completely renouncing smooth, easy-to-clean surfaces and modern, time-saving kitchen utensils [see Art Exhibition Kaliningrad] for their more quirky but difficult to use and maintain predecessors.

Kitchen utensils Apartment Museum, Kaliningrad — Early 20th century kitchen utensils

In Mr Grossmann’s flat, the kitchen was quite small. Too many cooks was certainly not an option. The kitchen stove, or range, ruled the visual roost, it was, after all, an indispensable piece of home-living equipment, in this case cast iron, the front beige and green-enamel tiled and the whole raised on sculpted, ornate cabriole legs.

Above the cooker there was a row of hooks containing various kitchen utensils and, on the wall, cream and white enamel back-plates with integral hooks on which hung various straining, stirring and other culinary implements. The back plates to these utensil holders are lovingly shaped and are much sought after today by discerning collectors and interior decorators. Enamel products were, of course, the kitchen equipment stalwarts of their day, and another nice example, one of which I had seen before in Victor Ryabinin’s studio, was a three-compartmentalised kitchen-cleaning substance holder, which included a slot for a product well-known in England, Persil, the name of which, along with others, is printed on the surface.

Antique Kitchen Shopping List — Slider-controlled enamel kitchen shopping list reminder, c1910-20

One item that I was not acquainted with was an early refrigerator. The appliance looked like a tall, square, solid wooden box, but when the lid was lifted the top section could be seen to contain a perforated metal basket. The cabinet space below held the provisions whilst the ice above cooled the interior. A simple mechanism indeed, but I suppose it must have worked.

The kitchen was large enough to accommodate a dresser, with glazed cabinets to the upper middle section flanked by two enclosed cabinets, in which an assortment of curious contraptions were displayed, and the storage space offered by this piece of furniture was augmented by a small larder in the corner of the room, containing a stimulating jamboree of bottles, tins and jars, many with ageing contents.

The last room on the inventory was the toilet and bathroom, and this indispensable facility was to be found on the left just inside the door. You’ve just got to love a proper toilet, being one with a high-rise cistern with a chain and porcelain hand-pull, of German heritage of course.

Apartment Museum Kaliningrad Bathroom — Gustav Grossmann’s toilet requisites

Whether large country estate, stately home or a relatively small apartment such as this one, the question I always ask myself at the conclusion of my visit is not did it interest me but did it have the desired effect, namely during the time I spent there was I there at the time and in a different time at the same time? The answer in the case of Kaliningrad’s (Königsberg’s) Museum Apartment is Yes. Thank you Apartment Museum and thank you Mr Grossmann!

Essential Details:

Apartment Museum (Altes Haus)

11-1 Krasnaya Str

Königsberg

Tel: Kaliningrad 33-50-60

Email: alteshaus12@gmail.com

Website: www.alteshaus.ru

Excursions:

Monday to Saturday 11am, 12pm & 3pm

Attendance at the museum at any other time, including Sunday, can be booked in advanced

Art Exhibition Kaliningrad

I’ll have that painting and, by the way, how much for the flat?

Saturday 9 November 2019

Today we were off to an art exhibition. Of the exhibition I knew little or nothing, except that it would be different and was by invitation only. Oksana, our neighbour, had invited us, and the ‘different’ element made all the difference in that I was very curious.

I had no idea what to expect, as, in Oksana’s car, we pulled into a cramped carpark opposite a new red-brick block of flats. A group of people were walking alongside the building to a gate and were directed back from whence they came ~ we followed.

On the opposite side of the building we were shown into a narrow corridor. A woman, carrying a clipboard, appeared. The group, of which we were a part, about 20 in total, lined up on either side of the corridor, whilst the clipboard lady delivered a short introductory talk, about which, of course, I understood nothing. Then we filed through the door and took the lift to one of the floors above.

Designer flat project, Kaliningrad, Russia — Modern Chic or Retro Chic?

The block of flats we were in was new and unfinished, but the corridors, at least on the floors we were occupying, appeared to be in quite an advanced stage of completion. Chunky white door surrounds and white walls dominated the décor. From a distance it appeared as if a series of thin slate-like slithers of different dimensions had been painstakingly inserted at various depths to give a naturalistic, uneven surface finish to the walls, but on closer inspection you could see, as with even the best toupées, where the join was. Cunningly, the complexity of construction had been made considerably easier by the slate pieces being mounted on, or integral to, brick blocks. As modern as this was supposed to be, I could not help feel that there was something rather retro about the whole ensemble, so much so that it would not have surprised me had Russian versions of John Steed and Emma Peel come sauntering out from one the flats.

Designer flats in Kaliningrad, Russia, 2019 — Flats for sale, Kaliningrad

The flats themselves were at the stage known here as ‘grey scale’. This is an apt description, which means that the walls and ceilings have been plastered and skimmed but no finishing décor has been applied. There were no internal doors as yet but the double-glazing was in, as were the rads.

The concept explained

The concept of the art exhibition was an interesting one. My wife explained it to me. A number of empty flats in the building had been requisitioned to serve as exhibition halls. Each participating flat ether contained the displayed work of one individual artist or, if the artist’s contribution was less prolific, one room would be allocated. Thus, in some flats you would find the work of one artist and in others the work of, say, three artists, housed in separate rooms.

The concept worked surprisingly well. Since the walls of the flats were grey-scale they provided the perfect neutral backdrop and as, apart from the artwork, the only other items in the rooms were display units, advertising brochures and the odd bottle of mineral water, distraction had been obviated. Even the display modules were as basic as they could be ~ simple unobtrusive plinths and the occasional wooden easel. As there were few wall hooks in evidence, many of the exhibits were placed at ground level. This was in hindsight one possible flaw, as arguably the works in question were not shown at their best in this position.

The exhibition rooms not all being situated on one floor meant that the viewing public had to hop into lifts and run up and down stairs, and this alone added an interesting twist to what was already a novel concept.

Among the contributing artists whom we liked best was the work of Yri Bulechev and a second artist who, to add intrigue to his work, wished to remain anonymous. We did learn that the anonymous artist was by profession an engineer, and this calling was demonstrated thematically throughout his art. The focus subject matter was portrait: strained, tense faces with worried, uncertain eyes, apprehensive, frightened even, contextualised within a claustrophobic grid, an invasive backdrop of lines, narrow rectangles and circles, which reminded me of the geometrical patterns that I used to draw as a nipper with the aid of my then trendy Spirograph set.

Anonymous Kaliningrad Artist — Modern consciousness

This background fretwork ramped up the element of tension, especially since it invaded the human features, as if intermeshing the frailty of the human condition with the modern world’s increasing connectivity, the pressures that such a Brave New World inflicts and the hard-wired engineering by which our lives are ruled and controlled. That my good lady wife liked these paintings, indeed was drawn to them so much that she put in a bid for two, was, given her penchant for the light, airy and positive, somewhat surprising.

One painting she particularly liked was that of female face. It was, in fact, half a female face, the portrait painted on the very edge of the substrate with half of the image missing. Taught and compelling, the one eye blue and bright reflected something like fear, and there again was that all-pervasive geometrical static, smothering the backdrop and overlaying the startled features. Interestingly enough ~ but remember the artist’s vocation ~ this art form had not been painted on board or canvas but brought to life and into the world on a sheet of rusty iron.

Art Exhibition Kaliningrad — Half way there

The industrial-look of this artist’s work was indubitably enhanced by the stark, incomplete environment in which it was displayed, a factor which also fed into the large picture of a Russian female comedy actress, noted, I was told, for her happy-go-lucky and comical typecasting, drawn or painted all in white, whilst the dark shadowy head and face of Anthony Hopkins’ Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs) looks predatorily over her shoulder with a hunger in no way related to the baguette that the actress is ready to eat.

Silence Of The Lambs in an empty flat in Kaliningrad!

As a long-time devotee of Leonard Cohen, Lord Byron and Edgar Allan Poe, and being continually reminded by my wife that I am bleak and melancholic, these pieces should have been right up my nightmare street and, I have to confess, I enjoyed them, but on this occasion incongruously a role reversal had taken place, with me feeling enthusiastic about a large painting in contrasting pastel and vivid colours depicting two stylized lovers floating in the luminous air somewhere between Heaven and Earth. Seldom have I seen such a picture which radiates instant Karma ~ so soothing, idyllic, tranquil and so ethereal in every sense. Until, that is, I discovered how much it cost. Brought quickly down to earth again by the asking price of (ssshhhh!), I am yet inclined to say that the painting is worth every ruble ~ it was only my wallet holding me back!

Yri Bulechev painting, exhibited in Kaliningrad, Russia. — Yri Bulechev composition, which would look very nice hanging above my bed!

Seldom have I seen such a picture which radiates instant Karma ~ so soothing, idyllic, tranquil and so ethereal in every sense.

Flat 10

During our wandering from room to room, I had had the good fortune of being addressed by a very tall, very attractive young Russian woman, dressed in red leather trousers and elevated on a pair of block high heel shoes that seemed to be giving me vertigo.

She told me, among other things, that the best was yet to come ~ wait until you get to apartment number 10, she said. Funny, but the last two exhibit rooms before I got to number 10 are difficult to remember.

I am tempted to say that all I can recall about flat 10 was that it contained a massive king-size bed and a bath tub large enough for four Donald Trumps, but, in reality, I can remember quite a lot more.

Flat 10 was a showcase flat. It had been given the personalised designer treatment and as with all ~ or most ~ of the paintings here on display was up for grabs if you wanted it. Indeed, I was told by the interesting young lady who was talking to me in very good English that I could buy it if I wanted to.

Flat 10 as illustrated on the cover of the art exhibition advertising leaflet

Well, did I?

The old adage that first impressions count may or may not be true, but it is as good a place to start as any. I may have been the only one amongst today’s privileged public to have made a mental note that the door design harked back to the Soviet era, in that access to the apartment (too grand to call it a flat) was governed by two doors in close proximity: first the traditional Russian heavy weight external door with its Fort Knox bolting system and then a more conventional door painted in non-conventional salmon pink. Beyond this curiosity, one walked into a tall, narrow corridor flanked by what appeared to be grey veneered paneling but which was, we discovered later, discreetly shuttered cabinet space. As one would expect from a modern designer flat, the accent was placed firmly on minimalist décor and maximalist space-exploitation. The floor-to-ceiling paneling, which was utilised again in the walkway between the master bedroom and bathroom, was as discreet as it was maximising, and this was because, as with the kitchen cabinets, all of the grey paneled doors had been built sans-handles. All one needed to do to access the space beyond was to touch lightly and the doors pop open. Nothing wrong with that, I thought, unless, of course, you have just woken up from a nightmare in which the world had been robbed of its handles.

If you have a fetish for handles, the flat had a place for them. Indeed, as designer flats go, this one was very much built with a place for everything and everything in its place. The wall directly opposite the entrance has been thoughtfully provided with floor-to-ceiling box shelving in a beech-veneered wood, the rectangular display units varying in size being reminiscent of the modular concept. Space such as this could hold any number of different sized handles and anything else for that matter.

Space optimisation at its best!

By turning left you were heading to the master bedroom, which was located on the right, with the toilet and bathroom opposite. First impressions again: the door with its angled lozenge panels. These I liked. They were one of only two nods in this ultra-modern flat to the past and to antiquity. As for the master bedroom, I was not quite sure whether it was somewhat small or whether the bed was very large, but any risk of complete claustrophobia was dispelled by the timely inclusion of a large glass window that looked out into the covered balcony beyond.

The next stop, however, was the bathroom. I have already referenced the bath tub. It was big. And so was the fixed shower rose above it. As the musician and singer Judge Dread once said, ‘I haven’t see one as big as that before’.

The toilet was round the corner in a separate place of its own and here we were in for more surprises. No, it wasn’t a bucket; it was as designer-modern as the rest of it. We were shown into the toilet cubicle in the dark, but no matter as the inside of the pan was illuminated with little blue lights and the seat popped up automatically. Really, there was no way that you could not be impressed. I whispered to my entranced wife that such a toilet as this was made for a hypochondriac such as me. I had reached the age where ailments and hospital tests are more prevalent than hot dinners, and an illuminated toilet bowl was an excellent idea for checking your stools.

My wife refrained from comment (a phenomenal moment in itself), perhaps because she was already peering inside another room hidden away behind more grey paneling. This was a narrow room, also accessible by the paneling on the inside of the apartment door. It was here where you did your washing and hung your clothes out to dry. On one side there were a couple of 21^st century washing machines and elevated above them an up-to-the-minute tumble dryer; on the other, there were fitted wardrobes and shelves for your clothes. This was so right. The very idea of hanging your socks, pants and sundries over the edge of the balcony just would not work in a place like this.

Room with a view

We were on the balcony next. Make no mistake, this was no khrushchev flat. The balcony was completely self-contained, a great plate of double-glazed glass extending from the yellow-ridged floor to the dizzy heights of the ceiling. The wall had appropriately ~ given the artistic concept by which the event was defined ~ been fitted out with two large abstract paintings, whilst a handsome reproduction antique desk and swivel desk chair demonstrated how the space therein could be utilised as an additional ‘room’, in this case as an office. I liked this balcony. It was, as they say in British estate agents’ parlance, well-appointed, and I could honestly see myself sitting there typing away on an evening as I tried to resist supping beer in the nearby London Pub. I could not, however, see myself walking there ~ too much ~ as impressive as the modern floor structure was, like most modern floors today which are made of composite wood it tended to shift and creak. Not good if like the Sheik of Araby, you tend to creep about at night, and in a compact space-saving flat like this no one could blame you for feeling so inclined, particularly as this balcony contained an adjoining door to the guest room.

Although the guest room was rather small, containing a kind of settee bed, the strategic positioning of a slim vertical mirror opposite the balcony entrance and a wide mirror on the wall facing it, created the illusion of much more space than there was, particularly when the tall, Baroque-style door from bedroom to sitting area was left open.

Looking back at this door, from the sitting room to the guest bedroom, endorsed my earlier prejudice that the lozenge-shaped panels struck an essential and clever juxtaposition, the geometrical profile, although simple, being the perfect foil to handle-less cabinets and satin-smooth textures.

The sitting room and kitchen were, in essence, a double act. The sitting room determined by its flat wall-mounted TV screen and serpentine-shaped comfy settee and the kitchen starting, but partly concealed, behind a tall block screen. If anything did not work for me inside this flat it was the screen. It was dark-coloured and its height and breadth reminded me of the type of front desks that you feel belittled by in old Soviet-style hotels, such as Kaliningrad’s Moscow. Behind the front desk in this room, there were the kitchen work surfaces and state-of-the-art kitchen appliances and, immediately behind them, and soaring up behind them, a monolithic formation of touch-door operated fitted-kitchen cabinets. I am a beans-on-toast man myself, but even I could see that for kitchen aficionados there was nothing wanting in high-tech, or in ultra-swish, clean and easily cleanable where this kitchen was concerned.

Flats designed to buyer's spec, Kaliningrad, Russia — As I gaze thoughtfully at the ceiling stencil in the Swish kitchen …

The one thing that I have omitted to mention so far is the absence of a proper ceiling ~ by proper I mean traditional. In fact, there is no ceiling, at least no plasterboard painted ceiling. Above your head in this flat the concrete structure looks down on you in all its unexpurgated and natural naked glory. I like it. It melds perfectly into the industrial and steampunk ethos by which we live our modern lives, from train station to airport, from café bar to attic revamp, it is the modern-day equivalent of the nuts, bolts and rivets statement which defined the architecture of the industrial revolution. That it has followed us into our homes should not surprise us, but in this flat, just in case it did, the designers had taken the decorative precaution of stenciling onto the overhead concrete an elaborate sequence of scrolls, this constituting the second nod to antiquity, as the distinctive outline and shell-like form is unmistakably related to the family Rococo.

For a man who has spent most of his life dodging minimalism as if it were the plague, I have to confess that I was happily engaged by what I had witnessed today and the way that it had affected me. There is every possibility that I will never be able to look at a half-finished flat again without thinking, ‘this needs artwork’ or ‘what I could do with this space if only I had the creative vision of the designers of flat number 10’.

Mick Hart looking devilish at the Kaliningrad Art Exhibition 2019 (apologies to Zeus!)

Essential Details:

Kvartirnik Exhibition

The exhibition is a joint offline project of the ART SPACE Internet Gallery and PEPA HOME STEGING, which prepares real estate for sale.

Project Organisers

Stepanyuk Natalya, Exhibition Curator & Artist (examples of her works exhibited)

Kiseleva Tatyana, Architect & Interior Designer

Contributing Artists Include:

Baeva, Natalya

Elfimov, George

Elfimova, Lyudmila

Bulychev, Yuri

el cartoon

Kiseleva, Tatyana

Stepanyuk, Natalya

Vernikovskaya, Olga

Chepkasova, Natalya

Elfimov, Alexander Prokopyevich

Apartment Design

Tatyana Kiseleva, Architect (planning, interior design, furniture and all interior items)

Personalised Interior Design Project

Following consultation with the architect, an individual planning solution is offered to any buyer of any apartment in the building this article features.

For more information, contact

Tatyana Kiseleva

Tel: +7 9211033313

KSK Real Estate

Апрель 2025
Пн	Вт	Ср	Чт	Пт	Сб	Вс
	1	2	3	4	5	6
7	8	9	10	11	12	13
14	15	16	17	18	19	20
21	22	23	24	25	26	27
28	29	30