Stanislav Konovalov & Mick Hart - Expat in Kaliningrad, Russia

Victor Ryabinin left Königsberg in 2019 to go back there. There is so much presence in his absence that it is hard to say if he ever went at all.

18 July 2023 ~ Victor Ryabinin Artist Four Years Out of Time

Featured image: Victor Ryabinin with Mick Hart, The London Pub, Kaliningrad, 2015

Our friend, artist, philosopher and local historian, VIctor Ryabinin, who lived out his entire life in Königsberg, died on 18 July 2019. He was, as I and others have written, a most unassuming, but in spite of and because of this, most remarkable man, both intellectually and on the level of humanity.

This is the first year that I will be unable to make the annual homage to his grave, as I am in England at present doing all the things that we people have to do whilst we are alive and which, when we die, mean very little if nothing to anyone. “Is it worth it?” sang Elvis Costello.

Such is not the case with Victor: Victor left behind a concatenation of friends and colleagues who filled the hall at his funeral to pay their last respects to him, who have written heart-felt eulogies to him, enough to fill a book, and who continue to speak of him with great affection and reverence. This is the yardstick of a worthwhile life: to have people remember you for the essence of the person you were and the light that you brought to their life.

It was a small affair, my funeral: There was the vicar, who begrudgingly turned out on a wet afternoon when the pubs were open, Ginger the cat, who had nothing better to do, and two professionals from Rent A Mourner. No one could be asked to dig the grave, so they used a post-hole digger and buried me standing up. My brother, the one who is a carpenter, made the coffin from MDF, his stock-in-trade material and, in order to keep things cheap, cut corners literally so that my feet stuck out one end. Happily ~ purely for the sake of appearances, mind, nothing to do with respect ~ someone found an old pair of wellies, so that took care of that.

Leonard Cohen was played throughout, and a man, chosen because of his serious face and the fact he cost a fiver, read an excerpt from my favourite short story, Ligeia, by Edgar Allan Poe, and then the graveside bystanders, muttering “He always was a miserable bugger.” ~ Ginger the cat said “Meow!” ~ off they went to the nearest pub at a gallop and by the time their first pint had been downed they had forgotten I ever existed.

Victor Ryabinin Artist

Something as ignominious as this could never happen to the likes of Victor Ryabinin, because he was a truly likeable man: admired, respected, loved, revered, warm of company and generous in spirit.

In 2022, we privately and officially celebrated Victor’s life and commemorated his death with a plaque that we had commissioned, and which is now attached to the wall of our dacha. There was talk once, there always is a lot of talk full of good intentions immediately after someone dies, of erecting a plaque in Victor’s honour on the wall of the building where his studio once was. It is a great pity that this idea has never been brought to fruition, as many people ~ poets, architects, historians, artists, museum curators and me ~ were privileged to sit with him there, surrounded by relics from Königsberg and the artworks created in his own hand, artworks which these relics, these haunting pieces of the past combined with his personal memories, had assigned him to compose and pass on for posterity.

Another building that deserves to be endowed with a plaque in memory of Victory Ryabinin is the Kaliningrad Art School, where Victor worked as an art teacher for many years. His former students speak warmly of him, both of the man and the teacher, and it is gratifying to discover that the inspiration that he instilled shines through their sketches and paintings, which are displayed at various times in solo exhibitions and with the works of other artists in Kaliningrad’s art museums.

Today, I am far away and unable to make my annual trip to Victor’s graveside. When he died, I vowed this would never happen, but show me the man who is master of his destiny and we’ll sit together and talk of lies. Fortunately, our minds are capable of travelling far greater distances than any machine, and special people and unique places never stray far from our thoughts. They are a source of great comfort in its ever having been and a source of equal pain in its never to be again.

What happens to the heart? Leonard Cohen asks. And well he might. Whatever it is, we have no choice but to live with it, if only, thankfully, for a little while longer ~ somehow.

Victor Ryabinin
Arrived in Königsberg 17^th December 1946
Returned to Königsberg 18^th July 2019

Victor Ryabinin Königsberg Artist-Historian: A biographical essay by author Boris Nisnevich

Victor Ryabinin Königsberg Kaliningrad: Mick Hart recalls how fortunate he was to have met and to have known Victor Ryabinin

“Through Victor, I learnt many things that I had seen throughout my life in Königsberg but had never really thought about.“ ~ Stanislav Konovalov, student and personal friend of Victor Ryabinin

The loss of an indispensable friend

Published: 2 December 2020

It is with great sadness that I report that our dear friend Stas (Stanislav Konovalov) passed away recently from post-operative complications whilst undergoing hospital treatment.

My wife, Olga, and I met Stas in January 2019. We were introduced to him by a mutual friend, Victor Ryabinin the artist. Stas told me later that Victor had said to him, “There is an Englishman moving to Kaliningrad. You should meet him. He is an interesting man, and I think you will find a common language.”

I am not altogether certain that I deserve the appellation ‘interesting’, but we did find a common language in our love of history generally and specifically for Königsberg-Kaliningrad and the surrounding region.

An important element in that common language was the inspiration we both received from our friend and mentor Victor Ryabinin.

A short while after Victor Ryabinin’s death in July 2019, I told Stas that I had found two paintings by Victor among my possessions in England. He replied, with characteristic modesty, that whilst he did not have a signed painting by Victor Ryabinin the artist, it was enough that he had a “secret pride”, which was that he had been “close to this great man”. “I was his student for many years,” he said.

When I ventured to suggest that Victor had also been his friend, he replied, once again with characteristic modesty, “Victor knew a great many people and associated with a great many people, but he probably would not have considered them all to be his friends. I can say that I was his student, that I admired him and enjoyed his company …” He then paused, before saying, “But I would like to think that he thought of me as his friend.”

Stas was a modest man. He was modest about all of his achievements, when it was quite obvious that he had as much right, if not more, to blow his own trumpet with the ‘best’ of them.

Stas Kaliningrad Königsberg Guide

Stas worked extremely hard on his tour guide projects, honing and perfecting them, making several YouTube videos and always asking, “What did you think of this aspect?” “Was that alright?” “Is there anything in my tour guide script that you think needs clarification?”.

Like Victor Ryabinin before him, Stas’ death has robbed Königsberg -Kaliningrad of yet another great ambassador.

It has robbed us of so much more.

Stas was a straight-talking, open, sincere individual. He was a kind man, always ready to help and good company.

Together, we shared the common language of the past, and I, through him, the common but all-important language of humanity.

In summation, Stas was that most precious of all commodities ~ he was the indispensable friend that we could ill afford to lose.