30 April 2024 ~ Kaliningrad Celebrates Kant on his 300th Year
Of the many things that Kant and I do not have in common, two stand out more than others. The first is that he was one of the world’s great philosophers, considered to be the third wheel behind Plato and Aristotle, the second he did not like beer. The first is an accomplishment worthy of applause; the second we will let quietly slip away, as it does not behove a gentleman of such intellectual stature whose name is synonymous with logic and reason.
Not widely read today, because his style of writing does not conform to the SEO prescription for sentences of 20 words or less, it is indeed a sobering thought that had Kant lived in the early 21st century, the systematic dumbing down of language and generational attention deficit attendant on this rule, would seriously have obstructed him in his quest to play linguistic games on paper. Instead of engaging the intellect with works of a ground-breaking nature, he would most likely be biding his time posting snippets to Twitter, taking selfies for social media, and pinning pictures of cakes on Pint-rest (incorrectly referred to as Pinterest). Deprived of these unspeakable pleasures, he had to be content with the lesser mental dynamics required to come to grips with epistemology, metaphysics, ethics, and aesthetics.
300 Years of Kant
Immanuel Kant was born on 22 April 1724 in Königsberg, East Prussia, where he lived until he died on 12 February 1804. Hardly venturing from his home city, Kant, nevertheless, through philosophical thought based on transcendental idealism, is largely credited for changing the way that people think around the world. So, if you have ever wondered why it is that you think the way you do, just think Kant and you have the answer.
Kaliningrad Celebrates Kant on his 300th Year
In life, Kant was a professor at Königsberg University, specialising in logic and metaphysics; in death, he lays entombed near Königsberg Cathedral on the appropriately named Kant Island ~ Kneiphof Island in Königsberg times.
Did you know? Kant was German. I bet you knew that. But did you know that for seven years he became a Russian subject? During the ‘Seven Years’ War’ in Europe, Austria’s allies, Russia, captured the East Prussian city of Königsberg , whereupon Kant, along with other Konigsberg citizens, pledged his allegiance to the Russian empress, Elizabeth. It was an allegiance he would not renounce even after Königsberg was returned to East Prussian rule.
As a philosopher of universal acclaim, a distinguished member of Königsberg ’s academia and one of the city’s most prominent citizens, Kant was fully qualified to be buried inside the cathedral itself. In 1880 that honour was extended when his remains were exhumed and rehoused in a chapel purpose built for him at the cathedral’s northeast corner, opposite the then prestigious Albertina University.
Was he boring, Kant? History has it that Kant was so regular in his routines that Königsbergians could set their watch by him. His habit of walking the same route at the same time each day earnt him the nickname of ‘The Konigsberg Clock’. However, contrary to his stereotype, that he was dull and prone to reclusiveness, Kant, by all accounts, possessed an uncommonly good sense of humour, loved to drink red wine and was a congenial host of dinner parties.
The university perished in the heavy Allied bombing of World War Two, but the mausoleum that would eventually replace Kant’s chapel, the one that we know today, whilst not escaping damage entirely at least escaped it sufficiently to allow for restoration.
Described by some as ‘minimalist’, the simple column and canopy structure has a certain aesthetic elegance and a dignity not detracting from the cathedral’s Gothic profile. The chapel, built in 1924, is the brainchild of Friedrich Lahrs, renowned East Prussian architect.
“The anniversary of the philosopher will be celebrated by the whole of Kaliningrad and guests of the city. The International Kantian Congress, various lectures, presentations, seminars, concerts, excursions, performances, as well as several exhibitions are planned here. Events dedicated to the 300th anniversary of Kant will take place in the city throughout 2024.”
I don’t want to boast, but we came second and were a whisker away from first!
Published: 31 May 2021
We had just left a bumpy, pot-holed back road and re-joined the main highway. Our driver throttled back. “In a modern car such bends are OK,” he said, “but in this car, which is tall, it could be dangerous, yes, dangerous. It is a tall car, you see, and could easily …”
He paused as we took the sharp bend.
“… easily turn over.”
The car in question was a 1956 GAZ-M20 Pobeda. It had column gears, a front bench seat, split (two-part) windscreen, wood-effect trims, a large working clock, indicator button at the top centre of the dash, small side vent windows on the front passenger doors, and sun-filtering fold-down eye-shields. It had an owner-driver called Yury Grozmani and also inside of it myself and my wife, Olga.
The reason we were in it, sailing along, watching the clock studiously and glued to a sheath of navigation charts was that we were taking part in the Auto Retro Club Kaliningrad’s first regional vintage car rally.
Kaliningrad Vintage Car Rally 2021
We had rolled off the start line, an elevated vehicle platform, at precisely 13.21. The carefully estimated time of our journey from start to finish was one hour ten minutes, no more, no less, from the front of Königsberg Cathedral to Gvardeysk. The rally was timed, literally, to the very second. There were two checkpoints on the way and arrival at these checkpoints must coincide exactly with the designated ETA. If you were running behind time, you had to put your foot down; if you were ahead of yourself, you needed to take your foot off the gas and dawdle.
Yury was driving, I was the navigator and Olga became the impromptu time co-pilot, confirming joint readings of the time we were making each step of the way from her mobile phone.
For anyone who has even an elementary understanding and command of map reading, navigating would have been a doddle, and even I, who had neither of these propensities, had no difficulty in making the connection between the bold, line-drawn symbols in boxes and the landmarks and directions that they represented.
The navigation charts had been planned with simplicity in mind so that any fool could use them. Each page contained a three-column grid dissected horizontally at regular intervals. The first column provided an estimate of the time it should take from the start line to reach a certain navigation point, the second column a simple but clear illustration of the turning or lane to take and the third column any additional information that may be useful, ie name on signpost.
I soon got the hang of this as any fool would; shame it was not the same when it came to timing. Neither Olga nor I have any maths’ trophies, not even booby prizes, and from first shout we were all out of kilter with the timing requirement. The ETA at the first checkpoint was 31 minutes, and we were having difficulty calculating where that put us on the clock. After showing ourselves up, Yury stepped in, and we both agreed that he was right, even if we did not really know if he was or not.
Traffic was not particularly heavy in Kaliningrad today. We had a few anxious moments as we turned off one main road onto another, particularly in the vicinity of Kaliningrad’s World Cup football stadium, but once out onto the open road, the Pobeda sailed along like the class car that it was meant to be.
We checked our time and found that despite a relatively hunky-dory take-off, we were several minutes behind schedule. Yury put his foot down. We checked our time a few minutes later and found that whilst we were going faster, time was overtaking us. And then came the back road leading to the first checkpoint.
The Pobeda rolled off the production line in 1946 and underwent a series of improvements over the next three years. Among the improved, 1949 Pobeda’s selling points was its ‘suspension for all terrains’, and on this stretch of road Yury put it to the test. The 64-year-old car took it in its stride, the suspension and spongey bench seats proving more than a match for the bounce algorithm, allowing us to enjoy a particularly attractive recluse of land, steeped in hills, hollows, lakes and old German rustic buildings
Suddenly, the first checkpoint loomed into sight. Guess what? We were 60 seconds ahead of schedule! Yury remained unphased; with the tempo of a seasoned Foxtrotter he eased the throttle back and landed us right on the button.
Checked in at the checkpoint, off we went again.
Another argument ensued as to how long we had before we were scheduled to arrive at the next checkpoint. Something was wrong somewhere. But I refuse to say who it was who was more wrong than anybody else! It transpired that there was a meagre seven minutes between the first and second checkpoints, which was a little mean as it gave us no time to relax.
We thought we were behind time, when in fact we were in front.
Just ahead of us were the two Volgas that had left Königsberg before us. They had both turned off the road, presumably because they, too, were ahead of schedule but, on seeing us, pulled out in front.
The second checkpoint required driving into a yard, marking one’s card and then driving out again. The car in front took a wide turn and Yury swooped in, cutting it up at the checkpoint. I am sure it was taken in good part, even though a lot of hooter-blaring ensued.
We roared off again, with about 25 minutes to go to reach the finishing line in Gvardeysk.
Kaliningrad Vintage Car Rally 2021
Gvardeysk is a small town with a large public square, making it perfect for events of the kind taking place today. We were last here with my younger brother in summer 2019, again with the Auto Retro Club, but on this occasion for the international Golden Shadow of Königsberg festival.
Olga and I like this town. It is well laid out, has a balanced proportion of German and Soviet ancestry, some fine old Gothic buildings, museums, a specialist cheese shop par excellence and an interesting walk along the side of the river.
Today, we had literally lost no time in getting here and had to fall back to lose a few minutes before rolling up on the town square to the razzmatazz of cheering crowds, music and more cameras than Kodak.
As soon as we arrived, a young lady presented Olga and I with a present. It was a large, and I mean large, disc-shaped apricot jam cake, freshly baked and still warm from the oven. Such kind gestures do not go unnoticed.
This is the age of the smartphone, Facebook and the image blitzkrieg, and needless to say there was no limit to the rounds of photographs taken, first on one person’s camera and then on another’s, then with these people and next with those. Olga and I had made the effort to dust off some vintage clothes, so this was another reason for having it large with the paparazzi.
We did find time to slip away, however.
The first stop was the public conveniences. I am strange, so I love using the loos here. It is a real Soviet experience: down the narrow flight of stairs, pay the babushka sitting at the counter at the bottom and then turn right into the homemade throne room. I cannot imagine any trip to Gvardeysk without using, or at the very least, visiting the lavs.
It was now time for a relaxing stroll around town, see the sites, visit the cheese shop and sit in the old courtyard of the cat sanctuary to have a bite to eat, whilst admiring the cat illustrations and old German feel of this sequestered place.
We had more free time at our disposable than we first imagined, so I also treated myself to an ice cream, a CCCP no less! (which is USSR to you).
More photos were waiting for us when we arrived back at the square. It was here that a young woman asked if she could have a picture taken with us. It turned out that she had a good command of English, and in the process of chatting she revealed that her ambition was to go to America. When my wife asked why, she thought, and then said: “The American Dream”. We said nothing. I could hear Leonard Cohen saying, “But you don’t want to lie, not to the young”. Anyway, this young woman must have been either extremely discerning or should have gone to Specsavers, as she said that I looked ‘handsome’. Was my wife jealous? Amused, I thought!
Before we left Königsberg Cathedral, Yury had raised a red flag by telling us that his car was having problems with the cooling system, but so far, so good: no need to top up with water. Just before we left the finishing line, he did, however, top up the tank with fuel, and I was intrigued to see that he could check how much was in the tank using a small dipstick located in the boot. Please refrain from the obvious joke; I was standing three feet away.
We left Gvardeysk as a cavalcade, with a police escort from the square to the town limit and to a fanfare even more enthusiastic than the one that had greeted us. Vintage cars seem to have that effect upon people, evoking respect, affection and enjoyment. Many people stand on the side of the road taking photos on their phones and making videos; people in cars toot their horns and wave as you pass by. It is all good stuff!
Today, on the return journey to Kaliningrad, we were pulling into Valdau Castle, the drive to which runs parallel with the main highway, and as we folded back upon ourselves, facing the way from which we had travelled, we were treated to a most magnificent sight, that of the club’s cars forming a long uninterrupted procession, the polished chrome and paintwork glistening in the afternoon sunlight and the car flags bearing the club’s name and logo fluttering resplendently in the breeze.
Regrettably, Valdau Castle would only be a pit stop today, but no sooner had we crossed the threshold into the grounds than I felt that ‘portal into the past’ sensation. So profound, exhilarating and organic it was that this familiar call from bygone days could not go unanswered for long. Olga was of the same mind, for she expressed dismay when she discovered that there was no time today to investigate the grounds and property further. “We will be back!” she asserted to whomever it was who was listening to her, going on to grumble about me to Yury for ‘never wanting to go anywhere … just sit in the churdak and write”. As a man to whom writing was not unfamiliar, I knew he would only empathise.
The grounds to the front of Valdau Castle are not as one might expect, vast, in fact they are copse-like, forming a central island of trees and grass, with one road in and out and a path on the opposite side. The approach widens at the front of the building, and as the cars filed into this wider area one by one and very slowly, a group of five ladies who were lined up in the castle’s doorway were cheering, waving and laughing as each car made its debut. This jolly group were dressed one and all dirndl style and played their part so convincingly and with such perspicacity to the scene in which they were cast that no one, but no one, was able to assume a contradictory attitude. As each car turned the corner, the occupants were smitten with the sincerity of this greeting. It lit faces up as though someone had turned them into human lanterns. Nobody, nobody that is except the president of the club, Arthur, who was dashing up and down trying to fit too many cars into not enough space and only just succeeding, went uninitiated; the conviviality was infectious and spread like emotional wildfire. Even the imposing Gothic building could not feign disapproval. There was so much of everything bright and cheerful, including more than a touch, and in all the right places, of Moll Flanders’ better attributes.
From the castle the line of cars broke up as each took its preferred route back to Königsberg Cathedral, but met again at the Cathedral entrance to an applause and welcome fit for conquering heroes.
On landing, there was time enough to buy a snack from one of the food outlets and a coffee and relax on one of the wooden benches in the best patch of sun you could find, after which it was time for the moment of truth. Who had matched the rally clock, completed the course as specified and attained one of the first three positions.
There were three main trophies for the first three contestants, together with smaller cups and certificates for those who did not do as well as they would have liked but were gratefully acknowledged for their participation. We came second place, being only one second out from coming first.
Once our status had been announced, we hopped back into the Pobeda and Yury, deftly and at speed, whipped the motor up onto the elevated car ramp after a fashion that I could only dream of aspiring to.
It was trophy winners’ acceptance time and speeches.
This was not an easy task for me to accomplish. Apart from being the only Anglichanin in the race, I was not about to inflict, either upon the crowd facing me or upon myself, my incomparable Russian. This meant that I would have to address the crowds in English. I am sure that there must have been one or two people in the facing throng who knew what I was talking about. There was my wife, for example, who never knows what I am talking about, so why should she start now? And anyway, after I had concluded my few words, Yury rendered a brief translation.
It had been a long day, a rewarding day, a different day. There is, as they say, a first time for everything, and we had enjoyed this first time immensely!
Food festival in the grounds of Königsberg Cathedral
Published: 17 May 2021 ~ Kaliningrad Street Food Festival
On 9th May, after honouring Victory Day by paying our respects at the Mass Grave of Soviet Soldiers and the Monument to 1200 Guardsmen, we were driven by our hosts, Arthur and Inara, to the street food fair, held this Easter in the sculptured parkland and cobbled grounds of Königsberg Cathedral.
Kneiphof Island, as this area was once known and now more commonly referred to as Kant’s Island for the very good reason that it is the historic resting place of the great German philosopher Kant with whose name it is eponymous, has undergone a series of successful gentrification programmes over the past few years, making its long, broad thoroughfare, which stretches from the Trestle Bridge on one side to Honeymoon Bridge on the other, the perfect place for cultural events.
Tourists and the majority of Kaliningradians approve but, as in every sphere of life, pleasing all of the people all of the time is as unobtainable as the Holy Grail, and the food fair, as well as other events held in this vicinity, is not without detractors, its critics arguing that the proximity of the cathedral and the hallowed ground on which it stands should prohibit such acts of sacrilege.
I personally do not hold with this. Reincarnation, as in the case of Königsberg Cathedral as much as in any other, is about breathing new life into something that would otherwise cease to exist, and the historical Phoenix that Königsberg Cathedral most assuredly is, is a good enough argument in my books for holding events nearby that celebrate life and, whilst I myself do not go in for Facebook snapshots of plates of grub, most people would agree that food and drink plays a not insignificant part in celebrating life or is, at the very least, a rather indispensable ingredient of it ~ something very much up there with oxygen and sunlight.
Thus, silently mediating between the cultural polemics by which my actions were guided, I was able to wend my way without a sullied conscience, heading towards the food fair by way of the riverside walk that fronts Kaliningrad’s ‘Fishing Village’ ~ an attractive architectural fantasy of swish hotels and well-appointed restaurants that has nothing to do with fishing but a lot to do with tourism.
Kaliningrad Street Food Festival
Someone, I believe it was my wife, suggested that we rest our weary bones at one of the outside tables and take light refreshment before going on to the fair. This was an odd idea considering that over the other side of Honeymoon Bridge there was about forty or fifty food stalls. But wives, as you know, know best …
The first mistake was quickly followed by the second, which was that the spot we had chosen was firmly in the shade and subject to strong gusts of wind; the second mistake was the restaurant/café itself. Foodwise, it had not been a good choice, even for snack standards, although I did enjoy my pint of Leffe!
You might infer that having crossed Honeymoon Bridge we would be plunged into the troubled world of real life, but this was not the case.
The continuous row of brightly coloured stalls and milling crowds was a sight for sore self-isolating eyes, a coronavirus-contagious nightmare for your mask-wearing six-foot distancers, but for me, today, a much-needed carnival atmosphere ~ a cornucopia of pleasing sights, foot-tapping sounds and sizzling smells ~ or, as I put it earlier, a celebration of life.
Kaliningrad Street Food Festival
The pink stalls with their colourful, whacky wallpapered fronts, looked well in the sunlit environs, with the hefty walls of Königsberg Cathedral acting as their backdrop. There was food galore, which was not a bad thing for a food festival, but this being Russia it was a foregone conclusion that most of it would be meaty. For vegetarians such as myself, options are rather limited.
Unphased, since I am a ‘baked beans on toast’ sort of person anyway, there was nothing for it but to turn my attention to the beer they had on offer.
Olga discovered one stall selling warm beer; not warm as in ‘Ugh my beer is warm’ (an ironic grumble in England where everyone seems to have forgotten that beer is supposed to be served at room temperature), but warm in the sense of heated. Being nothing but adventurous ~ where beer is concerned, that is ~ I sampled some of this, and I must admit that, contrary to my bigotry, I found it remarkably palatable.
Mick Hart samples heated beer at Königsberg Cathedral Food Fair
At the corner of the pedestrian walk where the cobbled street widens to form the plaza at the front of the cathedral, a group of vintage vehicles were on display, among which was our friend’s, Arthur’s, Volga.
Speciality warm beer, vintage cars, good company & Königsberg Cathedral: Food Festival Kaliningrad 2021
To the right, the one-time silver refreshment caravan in the shape of an American diner has been replaced by a permanent parade of gift and refreshment cubicles and even a proper restaurant. Again, some people criticise, but I like them. They reflect Königsberg Cathedral’s increasing popularity as a tourist destination and are just enough and not too much.
At this point in the cathedral grounds the land rises, and it is necessary to climb a brief flight of steps to ascend to the higher and wider concourse, on either side of which today food stalls took pride of place.
The variety of food on offer was really quite astonishing, so much so that you would have to be suffering from indigestion, experiencing an attack of consummate vegetarianism, or just being rather peculiar should you not be able to find yourself something to sink your choppers into.
As I fall into at least one of those compromised categories, I continued to stay on the beer, which, like its solid counterpart, offered incomparable sustenance of a most diverse and most diverting kind.
All of a sudden standing went out of fashion. It was fortunate, therefore, that the municipal makeover of our immediate vicinity had pre-empted this condition, a contingency not found wanting in the number, style and seating capacity of the scrolled and slat-back benches dotted around the park.
Being difficult as well as vegetarian ~ same thing? ~ I immediately ignored these, and we eventually came to rest on the well-thought-out and positioned wooden steps that aligns the seated with the magnificent facade of Königsberg Cathedral.
Mick Hart & Olga with Arthur (feeding himself) on the steps in front of Königsberg Cathedral (May 2021)
From this spot we refused to move (OK, I refused to move) for the rest of the afternoon, with the exception of forays for food and beer ~ Oh, and Olga’s impulse purchase of a silver and amber ring (good job my beer requirement was not overstretching our budget!)
Said Olga, whilst we were sitting where we were sitting: Have you noticed how the front of Königsberg Cathedral has an unreal aspect about it? It has an ethereality, a lightness that most ecclesiastical buildings do not possess. Cathedrals in general have a formal and officiating presence, commanding deep and unquestionable reverence, but this cathedral seems to hang in the air ~ to float. Now remember, it was Olga saying this and not my beer, but was it the beer that made me respond that it looked from our perspective as if the cathedral could have been drawn on the natural canvas donated by this calm and relaxing day by our friend and artist Victor Ryabinin?
Some things you can never be sure of and others even less so, but one thing we agreed on was that Kaliningrad’s food festival had given us plenty of food for thought.
Published: 8 February 2021 ~ Awesome Königsberg Cathedral Organ Concerts
We recently received a kind invitation to attend an organ concert at Königsberg Cathedral. This was the first time that I had been to a concert there, and I was keen to discover if the sound of the cathedral’s pipe organ was as impressive as it looked.
With temperatures outside falling to as low as -17 degrees, we were surprised, happily surprised, to discover that in spite of the capacious size of the cathedral it was warm and comfortable. For a cathedral that had been reduced to a shell in the Second World War by RAF bombing and subsequently and painstakingly restored, the atmosphere and ambience is superb. Lighting is important in any environment, but particularly so in exhibition and concert halls, and here it cannot be faulted.
The colonnades, sturdy walls and Gothic vaulted ceiling served the acoustics well, the hard surfaces reflecting the quieter notes distinctly and the deeper tones with generous resonance. The organ rolled, rumbled and reverberated, the multiple dense sounds thundering spectacularly from numerous points within the buildings chambers.
I will admit that I am not much of an opera aficionado, but on this occasion I felt that the dulcet tones of the singer complimented and contrasted perfectly with the rich and varied tones of the pipe organ.
At the close of the concert, we chose to walk around the back of the cathedral, past Kant’s tomb. My wife, Olga, rightly commented that here, outside and within the cathedral, you can still feel the spirit of the city of Königsberg.
This was so true, and I felt rather guilty that I had not visited the cathedral more frequently since moving to Kaliningrad.
I confess that since the death of our friend Victor Ryabinin in the summer of 2019, I have been purposefully avoiding the cathedral and the surrounding area. The cathedral and Kneiphof island are only a stone’s throw away from Victor Ryabinin’s former art studio and as such constituted the epicentre of his cultural and historical world. There were so many memories that I did not want to face, and so many more, like this evening’s, which he may once have been a part of but now never will ~ at least in person.
But you cannot hide forever, and I was glad that I had agreed to go to the concert.
Even in the falling temperatures and with noses like beetroots, Olga managed to snap off some photos of the cathedral on a cold winter’s night, which capture the magical quality of the external lighting and how it is used to imaginative effect.
Brrrr: It was time to rattle back home on the number 5 tram and, once indoors, make with the cognac!
Königsberg Cathedral Organ Concerts: Königsberg Cathedral website: http://sobor39.ru/
Concert details for 6th February 2021
Titular organist of the Cathedral, laureate of international competitions, Mansur Yusupov
Soloist of the Kaliningrad Regional Philharmonic, laureate of international competitions, Anahit Mkrtchyan (soprano)
Music and song featured works from the following composers:
A. Vivaldi A. Scarlatti G. F. Handel J. Pergolesi J. S. Bach V. Gomez M. Lawrence, A. Babajanyan