Published: 18 July 2020 on the first anniversary of Victor Ryabinin’s death
Victor Ryabinin died on 18 July 2019
For those who knew him well, it has been a difficult 12 months. The first 12 months after someone dear passes away always is. There are so many occasions that memory will not let go of, everything becomes a commemorative anniversary of the last time, and it is virtually impossible not to fall victim to the ‘this time last year’ syndrome.
As the anniversary of Victor’s death closed in, it has also been impossible not to fall under the insidious spell of that morbid countdown: viz, this time last year Victor had only four weeks left to live … It is a macabre thought is it not, that last 60 seconds of life ticking inexorably away and then nothing? Not just the physical man himself gone but, as Leonard Cohen so eloquently puts it, “that tangle of matter and ghost”. A lifetime lost in a second. A unique loss of personality, thoughts, talent, experience, good nature, kindness, humanity. It is, indeed, a morbid thought, but as a friend of mine pragmatically said about death, “Well, you can’t stop it, can you?”
There is nothing much longer than eternity, but notwithstanding in the past 12 months those of us who were fortunate enough to be counted among Victor’s friends and those whom he taught and mentored have been just as busy preserving his memory as we have been cherishing it and missing him.
Book celebrating Victor Ryabinin’s work
As well as my blog, which is dedicated to Victor Ryabinin, to his artistic talent, to the magic that he found in and brought to Königsberg-Kaliningrad and to the man himself, one of Victor’s closest friends, Marina Simkina, herself an artist, has been working with writer and journalist Boris Nisnevich to bring to fruition a book about the life and work of this remarkable man: a thematically related text with essays, personal recollections, interviews, letters and poems which taken together speak of the rich legacy that Victor has bequeathed in his paintings, assemblages, collages and diaries and, for those of us who knew him personally, in the light that his sincerity, goodwill, open nature and profound interest in everything he heard or saw brought into our lives.
On the first anniversary of Victor’s death, I have added another article to the pages of my blog contributed by our friend Stanislov, whom Victor introduced us to shortly before he passed away
Catalogue of Victor Ryabinin’s work
Stas, as we know him, is actively involved in a project which will hopefully see the canon of Victor Ryabinin’s artistic work and his collection of Königsberg ‘relics’ housed and displayed in a permanent exhibition here in Kaliningrad. He also hopes to catalogue Victor’s work and produce a definitive version in print of the extraordinary talent of this man whose self-genre as Königsberg’s art-historian captured, celebrated and ultimately cast him as the spirit of the ruined city he had spent his life divining ~ the very Spirit of Königsberg.
Victor Ryabinin’s love affair with the interconnectivity of Königsberg’s past and Kaliningrad’s present, the surface paradox of two cultures hammered together in war but mysteriously wed by time and destiny, was as devotional as it was unconditional. For him, both transition and movement were seamless; it was the place itself that ‘drew people in’ as it had drawn him in.
Victor’s childhood impressions and art-historian perspective surpassed that of mere academia ~ he lived and breathed Königsberg. It was not a lifestyle choice; it was made for him; it was predestined. The symbiotic relationship that he formed with this special, this unique place, as he called the Königsberg.-Kaliningrad continuum, continually reminded him that his soul existed in two cultures, both Russian and German, and as much as he enjoyed anywhere else he intuitively knew he belonged nowhere else. He could not precisely say why, ‘I cannot explain this magic’, but as a child of Königsberg’s ruins he instinctively knew “this is my city”.
His city, represented symbolically through the artistic fusion of his childhood memories, the interaction between Gothic ruins and Hoffman’s Gothic fantasy, transcended time and place, engendering philosophical interpretations on a universal scale. His enduring belief in the insolubility of the past’s effect on the present and of existence viewed as a fantastic web of interconnectivity may suggest that whilst he had a definite sense of place and his place in it, he was also a child of the universe, but if so he was a prodigy.
In memory of Victor Ryabinin
The oft-cited opinion of those who were close to him, that he exhibited an almost childlike fascination in everything new that he saw or heard, was not a slight on his character but a character trait to be envious of. For the majority of people, interest, as with every other human faculty, slips further and further away from us the older we become, but not so with Victor, who remained alert, fascinated, enthralled to the last. Even in the latter days of his life, when in hindsight, by recourse to photographs of that time, he appeared discernibly older and more frail, he never lost his curiosity, he never grew old as others grow old, giving up his zest for life only when life itself decided that the time had come for him to paint his last picture, make his last entry in his pictorial diary and drink his last cognac with friends.
In the shadow of death and even more desperately in its gloomy, memory-filled aftermath, we rake among the embers not of the life that has passed, the life that has been extinguished, but in what remains of our left-behind lives, in hope of consolation.
But my consolation in Victor’s death lies in the certain knowledge that whilst we grieve for ourselves, we have no real need to grieve for him, for he has returned to the self-same spot where it all began. He is a child again in the ruins of Königsberg. His spirit has gone home. He is now a part of that history which so fascinated and clung to him from the moment of his birth. It is my belief that it never let go; he was just given to us on loan; and he drew us into Königsberg as he himself had been drawn in.
If you do not believe me just listen to and read the testimonials of those who knew him and what they have to say ~ his students, friends and colleagues. Through their words and their impressions, they seek to understand the mystical aura with which Victor was endowed. We may never comprehend it entirely, but we share one thing in common which is a sense of pride and privilege that in this ephemeral but interconnected world it was fortunately predetermined that our paths should cross with his.
We shall miss him always, forget him never.
Victor Ryabinin died on 18 July 2020 Forever Königsberg
Stanislav Konovalov ~ Stas ~ passed away in November 2020 from post-operative complications whilst undergoing hospital treatment. We salute him for the memories he has bequeathed us and grieve for those that would have been had death not suddenly deprived us of his company. The biographical article that follows was originally written and published on 18th July 2020. It stands in testament to Stas’ love of the history of this city and this land and as a tribute to Stas himself, a man that we are proud to have known and been able to call our friend.
About Stas Konovalov Stas Konovalov is a professional tour guide who specialises in tours of Kaliningrad and the Kaliningrad region. His tours are given in Russian and English. His love for this land was nurtured and advanced by his friend and mentor, Victor Ryabinin, the legendary artist-historian, for whom life began in the ruins of Königsberg and for whom Königsberg became his life. Under Victor’s tuition, Stas honed his knowledge of the city and its region, from its ancient Prussian roots, through the years of the Weimar Republic, through its rise, fall and eventual destruction from the beginning to end of WWII, its fate under Soviet rule, onto the modern bustling city, attractive coastal resorts and UNESCO heritage status by which it is defined today. Stas’ tours, given in both Russian and English, can be either broad-based or thematically tailored to suit individual or group interests. He refers to them in the second half of this article, where you will also find links to his internet tour page and his introductory YouTube videos.
Originally published: 18 July 2020 on the first anniversary of Victor Ryabinin’s death
My wife and I were introduced to Stanislov (Stas) in the winter of 2018 by Victor Ryabinin. He prefaced the meeting with “I want you to meet a very good friend of mine. He has a love for Königsberg. He is an interesting man, with a very interesting flat!”
At that time my wife and I were in temporary accommodation, looking for property to buy in Kaliningrad. It was but a short walk from where we were living to ‘the interesting man and his flat’. It had been snowing and it was snowing, and I will always remember Victor jumping up and down outside the door to the block of flats where Stas lives and clicking his heels together to shake the snow from his heels, saying “This is possibly the only flat in Kaliningrad where you are not expected to take off your shoes and run around in your socks.” Apart from this phenomenon, the interesting man and his interesting flat did not disappoint.
Sadly, our mutual friend Victor died in the summer of 2019.
At the end of his funeral, we thanked Stas for his support and his company. He replied, simply but sincerely: “I think we consoled each other.”
Since then we have continued to console each other, and Stas and his girlfriend (another Olga) have become good friends. I said to my wife, Olga, it was very fortunate that Victor introduced us to Stas when he did. Typically, Olga replied, “It was no coincidence. It was meant to be.”
Stas is planning to produce a catalogue of Victor’s work and is directly involved in attempts to establish a permanent exhibition, where the legacy of Victor’s art and relics from Königsberg can be properly displayed for future generations.
This is Stas’ story, of his life leading up to his meeting with Victor Ryabinin and how under Victor’s tutelage his life going forward has been directed and shaped.
Stanislav Konovalov ~ a brief biography
Upon leaving school, I entered the Kaliningrad Technical University Commercial Fisheries Department. In 1985, it was not difficult as that department was no longer popular. The course was not easy to follow in that it covered all aspects of engineering in depth, that is theoretical mechanics, strength of materials, physics, mathematics and so on.
My university study was interrupted for two years by national service in the Soviet Army. It was a period in the mid-1980s called ‘children of the children of WWII ’, when the army had to compensate for staff shortages by enlisting students, even from technical universities in spite of the fact that these had their own military departments.
My national service was undertaken mainly in the chemical defence forces. Once completed, I was so afraid that military service had kicked my brains out that when I returned to university I needed to prove otherwise and worked as hard as I could.
Army life ~ Only 100 Days to Go!!
At university, I met old friends and made new ones who felt the same way about the possible adverse effects of army life, so we united as a group of six to seven guys and studied eagerly. Soon, we were enjoying our studies and were surprised to find that on completion of our first ‘after army’ exams we were not as stupid as we thought. Thereafter, having developed a taste for study our later successes did not surprise us so much.
As undergraduates we were eager to invent and implement something extraordinary which would push commercial fisheries forward. My diploma thesis supervisor was Professor A L Fridman, who had studied under Professor F I Baranov. A street in Kaliningrad is named after Professor Baranov, who was the founder of scientific application for commercial fisheries. His name is well known among colleagues worldwide, as his book Techniques ofCommercial Fisheries, written in 1933, was translated into many languages.
The idea which I presented to Professor Fridman was to combine fish biology (fish behavior) with specific fishing equipment in order to develop efficient and selective fisheries.
Professor Fridman, who had professional contacts worldwide, arranged for lectures to be given at our university by two doctors of science from the Aberdeen Marine Laboratory, Scotland. Some of the topics encompassed by these lectures approximated to ideas covered in my course project, so I asked if I could meet with Clem Wardle, one of the visiting lecturers, to discuss these. I felt quite confident about my English, and besides Dr Wardle had extensive experience of communicating with non-English students.
These discussions led to me being invited for a training course at the Aberdeen Marine Laboratory, prior agreement having been made that two students from our university would participate in studies in Scotland.
I presented my Diploma Statement in both Russian and English, and the next day I became an engineer and assistant of the Commercial Fisheries Department of the university. But it did not last long. Perestroika was in full swing, and I had to channel my time and energy into earning money to feed my young family, which left little time for scientific research.
When did you first become interested in art?
I was seven years old when an art enthusiast, Alevtina Maksimova, created an experimental art group in the Kaliningrad Art School. At that time, entrance was restricted to children in the 10 to 12 age group. I cannot begin to imagine the effort she must have put into creating such a group under the Soviet system. Anyway, she succeeded.
Bureaucratic barriers having been overcome, she visited schools in Kaliningrad, examined children’s drawings and selected potential students on the basis of their work. I was one of them. Initially, the art lesson lasted 15 minutes, three times a week, but gradually class time was extended to normal hours.
For the next four years, I studied sculpture, painting, drawing, history of art and so on, and it soon became routine.
When did you first meet Victor Ryabinin and what part did he play in your artistic interest?
We were drawing and painting still life and in warm seasons went outside to practise. The last academic year included the subject Applicable Composition (Design). Viktor Ryabinin was our teacher.
As for the arts, Ryabinin directed me more towards feeling the harmony and philosophy of art. It was a sort of magic. He did it so gently that I thought that I had discovered it myself.
Stanislav Konovalov
At first sight, from a teenager’s point of view, he was this small and funny man, but very soon our attention was attracted to his methods of teaching. He was a breath of fresh air in my understanding of art. He was so alive in comparison with many of the other teachers. He ignited our imagination. He was not backward in pointing out our mistakes, but he inspired! And he took a sincere interest in our artistic development, which extended beyond the classroom.
When he invited us to his art studio, I was impressed on two accounts: first, that he had invited us at all; and second, by the studio itself. It was not as cluttered as it became in later years, but it had a special atmosphere that charmed me forever.
As for the arts, Ryabinin directed me more towards feeling the harmony and philosophy of art. It was a sort of magic. He did it so gently that I thought that I had discovered it myself.
With Victor’s help, I became interested in many artistic genres: Symbolism, Surrealism and others, and creating in graphics or in colour. Ryabinin attracted my attention to Impressionism as a means of playing with colours. Still life and landscape pictures are definitely important to me as are learning basic techniques from which drawing skills accumulate that can be implemented in any genre.
As a mentor, Victor was kind but did not hold back when pointing out mistakes. Drawing my attention to the Impressionists, he repeated the words of his mentor Valentine Grigoriev, “dark – darker, light – lighter”. What this means, for example, is that the shadow of a green apple must never be painted in a dark, green colour. He said (about any object drawn): “It must be tasty and alive!”
I continued to draw and paint after finishing art school. I showed Victor each new picture, listened to his remarks and very often corrected mistakes to which he alluded and even re-drew some of my pictures. When a new picture was ready, I would telephone Victor, and we would agree on a time to meet at his studio. Later, when I stopped drawing, we remained in contact.
What made you become more interested in the history of Königsberg than to proceed with your art studies?
I have been charmed by Königsberg for as long as I can remember. Of course, in my youth there were a lot of myths circulating among children and teenagers about underground objects relevant to old Königsberg that impressed my sense of fantasy. But it was Victor who inspired a new surge of interest in the history of the city and the surrounding land. Victor was an authority on Königsberg urban life. He knew very well the history of certain districts and even certain houses. He was an excellent storyteller, often attracting your attention to particular details that had passed you by in daily life.
Through Victor, I learnt many things that I had seen throughout my life in Königsberg but had never really thought about.
Stanislav Konovalov
I learnt a lot of things from Victor of this nature, for example about the hatches on the streets and pavements, in which factories they had been made and how they were brought to Königsberg; that the granite curb stones and cobbles used in the construction of the pavements and roads had been shipped from Scandinavia. Through Victor, I learnt many things that I had seen throughout my life in Königsberg but had never really thought about.
Have you any particular memories of your association with Victor both as mentor and friend?
Victor was always pleased when I arranged to meet him at his Kaliningrad studio with visitors from other Russian cities and from abroad. By the way, the first signature in his Guest Book was that of Noel Mizen, an engineer from the ELGA Pure Water Company, England. I was an interpreter for him when he installed the purification system at Kaliningrad’s vodka plant.
Being an artist, Victor had a sharp eye. I remember once walking with him among the ruins of Balga Castle and around the lagoon coast. We had a flask of cognac, from which we sipped from time to time. The weather was good and the leisurely walk enjoyable.
Next to the water’s edge Victor picked up a small piece of something and showed it to me. He explained that it was a metal button from the trousers of a Wehrmacht soldier. I was impressed that such a tiny detail had not escaped his notice. This was part of his magic: his ability to give a lesson invisibly.
I am happy I knew Victor and that I met with him a lot. For the last years of his life we lived almost in the same street, so we would bump into each other quite often. Victor appreciated my cooking. I used to invite him for a meal, and we would sit in my kitchen, talk, and often look at and discuss the latest entries in his pictorial diaries.
I am very lucky to have met Victor and to have been his student. I learnt a lot from him. He was a great artist and a good man.
By the way, I also feel lucky that I took lessons in in martial arts from Guy Aerts, 6-dan master, the student of Tanemura Sensei, the patriarch of the Traditional Jujutsu school and that I took guitar lessons from one of the best musicians and guitar players, Sergey Teplyakov.
Stas learnt to play the guitar, but he did not mention anything about horses!
Although, I can count some achievements, I have no pretensions of being a star student. I remember the words of one of the martial arts masters: “All your achievements are the achievements of your teachers. All your defeats are the result of your remissness.”
However, I keep in contact with all my teachers, and it seems to me they enjoy it too ~ I hope!
History-based tours of Kaliningrad
(a) Can you remember the first tour that you organised? To be honest, I can’t remember my first tour. It sometimes seems as if I have been doing them all of my life. As a child I shared the knowledge that I had gained about Königsberg-Kaliningrad from adults that I had met and from my parents’ friends with my mates. When I was older, I would use that knowledge to entertain visitors in the companies where I worked. I knew more about Königsberg than my colleagues, and this enabled me to arrange sightseeing trips. Of course, looking back I see how funny and unprofessional those tours were, but the main purpose was achieved – people came on my tours, received a first impression of the place they were interested in and, wanting to know more, returned again and again.
There are two occasions that I remember in particular. The second half of my national service was undertaken in Kaliningrad, but through my national service I had made friends with guys from all over the USSR. One of them came from Samara (at that time Kuibyshev) before he was sent to Kaliningrad. This friend would walk a lot through the city. He even created a chart of the routes he had taken.
He once opined that there was nothing to see in Kaliningrad. Although we were friends, his comment irritated me. Nevertheless, I patiently asked where exactly had he walked and what had he seen? He replied, and I explained to him exactly what he had seen and what had escaped his eye. After my ellucidation his route chart extended dramatically.
Later ~ 20 years later ~ thanks to the internet, we contacted each other again. He decided to visit me in Kaliningrad and stay for five days. When I met him at the airport, he introduced me to his wife: “Meet Stas, who I told you about,” he said. “It was he who made me fall in love with Kaliningrad.”
The second occasion that I recall concerns the regional manager in Germany of the company for which I worked. She had visited the company where I would eventually work six years before I joined it and had been avoiding Kaliningrad ever since! We got to know each other and met several times at events in Moscow and in Germany. Finally, she came to Kaliningrad again.
I didn’t try to show her something extraordinary in Kaliningrad or ‘the best of the best’, after all she had lived in Bremen and Schweinfurt for decades ~ two interesting cities. I simply showed her Kaliningrad, and we went for a walk around the coastal resort Svetlogorsk. I told her about Kaliningrad after the war and included some true stories about families that I knew. At the close of her visit, I gave her a lift to Gdansk Airport. As we embraced and said our farewells, she paid me the highest compliment: “I disliked Kaliningrad,” she said, “but, thanks to you, I have almost fallen in love with it!” For me, who loves the city and introduces visitors to it, what could be better to hear?
(b) How have your tours progressed since then? Having been told by many people for whom I have organised tours that I am in the wrong job, ie that I would be better as a tour guide, I asked if I was such a bad logistics manager. My friends and colleagues then tried to assure me that I was an excellent logistics manager, but my tour-guide abilities are superb. So, whilst accepting the compliment, I still doubt my logistics professionalism.
As I became more involved in giving tours, I set about reading up on the history of Königsberg-Kaliningrad and researched particular topics. It is one thing to give sightseeing tours to friends but quite another to visitors who might be well-read on the history of Königsberg and interested in specific details. My biggest problem is memorising exact dates, and this worried me. After a while, however, I consoled myself with the thought that bachelors and masters graduates of university history departments are not typical of the type of people who want to enlist my tour service, and that ‘normal’ people don’t usually want to be overloaded with precise dates (except, perhaps, with regard to a very few extremely interesting places or situations).
Exactly a year ago, as I am writing this, I received a tourist from Moscow. The young lady, a manager in a big international company in Moscow, had a background in history. She knew the history of Königsberg quite well. I must admit that I was rather nervous about the prospect of showing her around, especially as I was recommended to her by a mutual friend. I felt that it was more like an exam for me than an excursion for her. The excursion took about 10 hours instead of the expected three-and-a-half to four hours. She was open-minded, analytical but happy to see what it was that she had read about. We understood each other well, and I think I calculated quite accurately what she wanted to see on the tour and what would impress her. Several times I hit the bullseye!
(c) Which tours specifically do you offer now? Normally, I offer a general sightseeing tour, with some particular interest deviation, for example the history of beer brewing in Königsberg-Kaliningrad, Königsberg as a fortress city, the exploration of certain districts comparing its history with its modern life, the Curonian Spit, Baltic seaside towns and so on. What is most interesting for me about guiding is trying to identify the ‘general trend’ that a particular tourist or group are interested in ~ what they expect to see and hear.
The more detailed I am able to make a narrative, the more excited they get. But I never invent my own myths; I extract the expected theme from the history I have researched and then animate it. I focus on their interest with a view towards inspiring further interest in a specific topic, place and the history that surrounds it.
YouTube videos
(a) How many YouTube videos have you completed to date? There are six at the moment. The first video I did was undertaken for a tour guides’ competition. When it was completed, I watched my video and compared it with the videos made by other participants. I was pleased to discover that the theme of my video went beyond the format required by the contest. I immediately prepared two more videos. I did not get any reward for these, except for a phone call from a federal radio channel and the pleasure of having a couple of minutes conversation on-air with radio presenters whom I particularly like.
I posted my videos on my Facebook page and also on the YouTube channel and got a few positive responses, so I thought it would be a good idea to make some more videos, the idea being that they would act as a video business-card. In my opinion, very few people are prepared to read about you, but people respond to videos in the same way as they interact with television, using the remote-control mentality. You press a button listing the TV channels. If something attracts you, grabs your attention, you might stay on one channel for a few seconds. If not, you list forward. So, my videos are brief. On one hand, to demonstrate who I am and my ability to communicate, and on the other to provide a glimpse of what my tours are about and what can be learnt at a deeper level.
(b) Elaborate on the work involved, the difficulties and the positive aspects I’m not sure if I followed it to the letter, but I keep in mind Chekhov’s idea, “be short with words, but wide with thoughts”. It took quite a while to write texts based on that precept. The initial texts were excluded. When I checked the time that it took me to read them, I was able to work out what needed to be excluded. It was a good experience. After the fourth video, my camera man, a professional, said to me “You can now work on TV”, as we made fewer single-takes than we had before.
(c) Which of your current videos do you like the best and why? I both like and hate all of them. I hate my appearance in all of them. I like what we did and how we did it. I became friends with the camera man, Mikhail. My son handled the video editing. It was, besides the purpose behind producing them, fun to make these videos. Once my son, Ed, presented me with a ‘gift’ video; it contained all my pratfalls. I laughed watching it. That was great!
Good news. I talked to Galina Zabolotskaya, the Director of the Art Museum, and she told me that they could mount a permanent exhibition of Victor’s work within a hall on the museum’s ground floor in which they commemorate artists of Königsberg and Kaliningrad. She proposed that Victor’s masterpieces be displayed in a room reserved for his work exclusively. In my estimation, this could take some time. Sergey, Victor’s nephew, wants, on one hand, to bring Victor’s pictures and his collection to as wide an audience as possible but, on the other, he is extremely cautious about who he entrusts Victor’s work to.
I can see no benefit in trying to persuade him to act until he himself is ready; in fact, I am of the opinion that too push too hard will simply provoke resistance. I keep in contact with him, and we have taken some important steps in the right direction. I feel that he is pleased with what we have done.
Apart from, and in addition to, setting up a permanent exhibition, I would like to see Victor, the man and art-historian, and the unique contribution that he has made to the memory of Königsberg, commemorated by publishing an album, or catalogue, of his work and collection. I am on the case and will keep you informed about how things are progressing.
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.
Spot the German bunker competition
The most obvious examples of Königsberg’s military
history predate the conflicts of the 20th 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 19th 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.
One of Königsberg’s inner circle of fortsMoat 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
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
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
Opulent amber covered vase/urn, 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, 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
Following in the style of Rauschen (Svetlogorsk)
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.
Zelinogradsk promenade, Russia
Zelinogradsk High Street, Russia
Zelinogradsk Hotel, Cranz Style
Lenin in Zelinogradsk
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!
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 14th 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’
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
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).
