Tag Archives: Kaliningrad statues

Hippy Party on the Baltic Coast

Hippy Party on the Baltic Coast

A funky, flower-power, fabulous day

Published: 13 September 2021 ~ Hippy Party on the Baltic Coast

It didn’t go exactly according to plan, but then what does? I am talking about our hippy party, which was scheduled to take place on the 11th September 2021. The main stumbling block was the weather. We had decided to hold the event on the 11th because two weeks before the day assorted internet weather services were predicting uninterrupted sun, but as the days fell away from the calendar, so the forecast changed erratically.

One consultation revealed that it would be overcast, another that we were in for intermittent rain, another that … In desperation, I even turned to the BBC weather site, knowing only too well that their forecasts, like everything else that they do, has a sharp liberal left slant  to it, so the probability of getting the truth, the half-truth or anything but the truth was rather hit and miss, and yes, their forecast was also chopping and changing, like the way they had reported Brexit and the EU referendum.

It was hardly surprising, therefore, that as the day drew near, one by one, people cried away; and on the evening before the day that the party was to take place, we cancelled it.

Between times, we had succeeded in completing the renovation of Captain Codpiece, the deteriorating statue in our garden. Our friend and artist Vladimir Chilikin, with the help of a beer or two, had transformed Codpiece from the worn concrete man that he had become over the past 40 years into a strapping bronzed figure, in which many lost details could now be clearly seen.

Olga Hart with Russian fisherman statue
Olga Hart with renovated fisherman statue

We, my wife and I, had been admiring Chilikin’s work from the pavement at the end of the garden when who should materialise but our friendly stout babushka.

“Hello,” we regaled her, cheerily.

“Why have you spoilt him?” she asked.

I knew she could not have been referring to me, so she must have meant the statue. Before we had chance to reply, she had exclaimed “He’s black!”

I heard someone saying, but I know not from whence the voice came, that it would not surprise me if it was black. Being British, I am only too aware that white statues are an endangered species, at least in the UK, and that, unless they are all painted black, it won’t be long before they will all have been run off with and thrown over some wall or other into a watery mire. But I ignored this voice and simply retorted, “No, in fact, he is bronze.”

“Well,” replied the stout babushka in a rare moment of concession, “I wouldn’t know because I am peearnee (drunk).”

I think in all fairness we can say ‘tipsy’, because when Olga collected some litter from the side of the road and placed it in our rubbish bag, babushka was quick to comment: “Huh! Haven’t you got anything better to do with your time!”

The statue, which is bronzed not black, was completed that afternoon. We had brought the marble glazed plaque to Victor Ryabinin with us, and before we left at the end of the day, we dragged the boat into place and finished the ensemble.

Hippy Party on the Baltic Coast

We came back on the 11th September as, on the morning of that day, we discovered that the weather forecast had changed again. Now we were informed that it would rain but not until 8pm, and until that time it would be bright and sunny, with temperatures reaching 26 degrees centigrade.

It was too late to rally the fringe, but the old faithful were ready to go and at a moment’s notice, so our hippy party went ahead, albeit reduced in numbers.

An executive decision was reached that it did not seem proper to combine the opening of Victor’s memorial with everyone dressed in flower power, even though Victor’s Boat with Flowers put flowers centre stage. But we abided by the decision and reserved the ceremony for a later date

The renovated statue, rocks adorning the plinth and Victor’s Boat with Flowers joined forces with our rather silly attire, caricature wigs, bright-coloured cushions and mats and, with the help of Arthur’s classic Volga and the dulcet tones of the Beatles wafting from our music system, attracted many a stare and comment from passing villagers.

The stout babushka was not in evidence today, which was a shame. I am sure that she would have had a thing or two to say had she witnessed our shenanigans. But at some point in the early evening a different distraction occurred. Someone had sent a drone buzzing over the garden and consigned us all and our antics to film.

I am sure that a hippy party, themed or not, would not have gone down well had this been the former USSR, even though, or especially since, drinking cognac from cognac glasses gave our particular brand of hippyness a rather bourgeois air.

Peace man! (no sexism intended, of course)

Hippy Party on the Baltic Coast
Mick Hart with Artour, who looks like a cross between Jimi Hendrix and Benny Hill
Mick Hart with Egis Kaliningrad
Mick Hart with Egis looking as cool as cucumbers on a hot day

Copyright © 2018-2021 Mick Hart. All rights reserved.

Max Aschmann Park Kaliningrad

Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 84 [11 June 2020]

Published: 14 June 2020

We were outside and walking down the street! It felt alien and wonderful at one and the same time. ‘O brave new world that has such people in’t!’ And, as I reflected on recent events in the western media, by the kindness of history, where we were today, no such people innit …

We were on the way first to the post office to post a letter to my mother and family, which I had started writing in March but had not posted due to coronavirus close-down, and then our mission was to find the whereabouts of Königsberg’s Max Aschmann Park.

Previous articles:
Article 1: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 1 [20 March 2020]
Article 2: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 6 [25 March 2020]
Article 3: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 7 [26 March 2020]
Article 4: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 9 [28 March 2020]
Article 5: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 10 [29 March 2020]
Article 6: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 16 [4 April 2020]
Article 7: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 19 [7 April 2020]
Article 8: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 35 [23 April 2020]
Article 9: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 52 [10 May 2020]
Article 10: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 54 [12 May 2020]
Article 11: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 65 [23 May 2020]
Article 12: Diary of a Self-isolator: Day 74 [1 June 2020]

Max Aschmann Park Kaliningrad

We knew it was not far away, and we were aware that it is a park of some magnitude, but our objective was to discover the way in, so that at some point in the not-to-distant future we could lessen the more austere effects of isolating by going on a picnic.

It was a beautiful summer’s day and Kaliningrad was at its greenest and, therefore, at its best. On the way we bought a couple of ice creams and stopped off at a small park not far from where we live. In the centre of this park, and a few feet away from where we were sitting, was a Soviet statue.  I winked at him. “You’re safe mate,” I thought. “This is not the UK.”

Proceeding from here, feeling extremely grateful that I was far enough away from the multicultural malaise that is now, as Enoch predicted, blighting every aspect of British daily life and threatening to obliterate its cultural identity, we spotted, peeping through a small fringe of trees at the side of the road, another monument. Further investigation revealed that this great carved slab of granite sitting on a concrete plinth and vandalised only by the same natural influence that vandalises our bodies ~ Time ~ was German and of Königsberg origin, dedicated to 100 graduates of the Altstadt Gymnasium who lost their lives during the First World War.

Königsberg monument WWI Altstadt Gymnasium
WWI MONUMENT, KÖNIGSBERG (Kaliningrad), IN MEMORY OF 100 GRADUATES OF THE ALTSTADT GYMNASIUM WHO DIED IN THE FIRST WORLD WAR

As the photograph in this post shows, the monument is flanked by two trees which, as the architects intended, have now grown into mighty and impressive sentinels.

Altstadt Gymnasium Monument  Kaliningrad 2020
WWI GERMAN MONUMENT KÖNIGSBERG (Kaliningrad) MARAUNENHOF SUBURBS

Criss-crossing the streets a couple of times, and feeling a little foolish asking people ‘do you know where the Max Aschmann Park is?’ aware as we are that the park is huge, our bearings suddenly returned to us. Olga declared, “We are on the road that leads to the yellow church.” I also knew that this road led to a couple of café bars, which I also knew, courtesy of Coro, sadly would be closed.

In the heat of the day, against the green and blue backdrop of trees, shrubs and sky, a reference to this time last year flashed through me. It was a little schizophrenic moment, a duality of emotion, part sorrow, part joy ~ one rooted in grievous loss, the other in poignant memory. For a split second I saw, and quite vividly, our deceased friend Victor Ryabinin walking by our side, as he could well have been in life. The moment passed as quickly as it had arrived, and I was left with that bittersweet sensation to which we are helpless when we miss someone dear to us, something between chasmic wistfulness and eternal gratitude, the longing for yesterday softened by the sense of privilege for paths that could so easily not have crossed on our strange little journey through life.

My wife, being an advocate of predeterminism, saw it as a fait accompli ~ whatever will be is meant to be ~ and she must be right, because in next to no time, after a brief excursion into the grounds of an interesting church, we arrived at the undisclosed entrance to Max Aschmann Park.

We had never been here with Victor, but Boris Nisnevich does refer to it in his biographical essay An artist that can hear angels speak. Victor cites the park as one of the places that had been earmarked for restoration, although rumour has it that whilst some remedial work has been undertaken the project has stalled.

Max Aschmann Park Kaliningrad

The Max Aschmann Park

The Max Aschmann Park was named after its benefactor who, in 1903 bequeathed the Maraunenhof estate to the city of Königsberg together with a substantial sum of money to aid in the park’s construction. The 25-hectare park took seven years to complete. By the 1940s the park had been greatly improved and expanded. It was now approximately three times the size of the original and equipped with an elaborate network of ponds, natural habitats ringed and intersected with paths and bridges, woodland groves, sporting facilities, playgrounds, curious buildings and monuments. As with most of Königsberg, the park fell victim to the Second World War and, thereafter, was neglected. Its abandoned status made it the perfect venue for itinerant drinkers and a place to rendezvous for impromptu barbecues, further contributing to its fall from grace. Sporadic maintenance has taken place in more recent years and plans for a more elaborate renovation programme are known to have been discussed. Victor Ryabinin, artist and local historian, refers to such in Boris Nisnevich’s biographical essay An artist /that can hear angels speak, but rumour has it that any plans that may have been discussed have been postponed indefinitely which, if true, is rather sad.

Our meeting today with Max Aschmann would be brief. As I said earlier, we were on a reconnaissance mission. But we followed the winding block-paved road that led to the park and tarried awhile in the wooded perimeter at the side of a large pond, a delightful interlude interwoven with beaten tracks and so natural that you could have been anywhere, anywhere that is except in the suburbs of a bustling city.

Max Aschmann Park Kaliningrad
WOODLAND POND IN THE MAX ASCHMANN PARK, FORMER KÖNIGSBERG , NOW KALININGRAD

We wended our way home via a different route, stopping off at a magazin for victuals and, oh yes, a couple of litres of beer. Well, it was such a nice day after all …

One of these beers, a monopolistic mainstay of the Soviet era, has an interesting history, which, if I can remember anything about it after drinking the beer, I will jot down for your edification.

Hmm, it will soon be time to open Mick’s Bar.

Copyright © 2018-2021 Mick Hart. All rights reserved.