Published: 18 July 2021 ~ Victor Ryabinin a word with him after his Death
On the second anniversary of Victor Ryabinin’s death, I recall Victor saying of himself, “I suppose you could call me a cheerful pessimist.” His ironic self-assessment led me to the conclusion that if he could call himself a cheerful pessimist, I could call myself (amongst other things!) a pragmatic Romanticist.
My wife, Olga, however, is an explorer of and believer in esoteric, spiritual and metaphysical doctrines. Thus, it was no contraindication of our normality that just before falling asleep one night Olga should embark upon an epilogue that adumbrated her philosophic convictions that human kind, the world as we perceive it and the universe of which we are a part operate as an omnipotent mechanism, a machine of Art Nouveau amalgamation melding and interconnecting all of nature’s components, giving them purpose and place within a grand and mysterious scheme that starts before life and does not end with death.
I prefer to count sheep myself, or beer bottles, but that’s pragmatic Romanticism for you.
Olga believes that if you want something and that you visualise that something with devout conviction you can shape your own reality. It is simply another way of saying, “Life is what you make it”, or in Hollywood speak, “Dreams really can come true”.
On this particular occasion, however, she was not talking about her extreme good fortune of having met and married me, but about her increasing interest in and love for Königsberg-Kaliningrad, which has received inspirational impetus from her recent discovery of the architectural splendours of Komsomolskaya street, the street on which the Home for Veterans is situated, a street which has more than its fair share of late 19th century early 20th century buildings, built, embellished, thankfully preserved and carefully restored, in the grand style. She was so entranced by her May-time visit to this street that she wrote about it on her Facebook page:
Olga Korosteleva-Hart [Facebook]
Shared with Public
Do not underestimate the importance of the human factor! These beautiful bas-reliefs would have been destroyed if it were not for the woman in this series of pictures, whose name I sadly did not ask. She told me that building site workers tried to hammer the bas-reliefs from the walls of this 19th century house just before they began to paint the building, arguing that the symbols were Germanic and therefore were not relevant to Russians. It was only when the lady reasoned with them and wrote complaints to the city’s administration that the reliefs were restored and repainted in their original colour.
The history of the suburb of Hufen (the location of the buildings) is mentioned in the 13th century, but only in the 19th century did it begin to assume the shape that Kaliningrad’s residents see today. Queen Louise of Prussia spent her summer months in Luisenval, as this area was known in her time [early 19th century] , and this was the reason for its rapid development.
In the 19th century Hufen was divided into three parts: Forder Hufen – Far Hufen, Mittelhufen – Middle Hufen and Hinter Hufen ~ Further Hufen and was later renamed Amalienau. By this time, the urban layout of the streets had already been formed, and the wealthy owners of the villas laid a cobblestone road. In 1896, an architectural competition for the development of the Luisenallee, organised by the Eastern Bank of Konigsberg, established planning rules. The first and most important rule was to restrict the height of the buildings, the second was to adhere to half-timbered construction and the third to incorporate abundant decorative elements. The rules also spelt out several mandatory cosmetic conditions, one of which involved the addition of elegant ornamentation iconic to Gothic architecture or associated with national romantic symbols.
I would like to thank the lovely lady who managed to save these evocative ancient pagan symbols from modern barbarism. If we all cared about our environment and our shared history regardless of nationality as she does, life would be so much more beautiful!
And, note this:
“I love my city! Vibrant, busy and green!”
Victor Ryabinin, a word with him after his death
She told me that whilst she was walking along this street, she realised just how much she loved Kaliningrad. She said that she sees its imperfections less and less and that, like Victor, she is always discovering and learning something new.
She thought how pleased Victor would have been to have known how much Kaliningrad and its Königsberg heritage meant to her, and, as she was thinking this, Victor appeared to her.
She said, I spoke to him. I asked what he was doing now, and he replied that I am still learning; I am just in another realm.
She connected these mutual feelings about Kaliningrad to her ‘life is what you want it to be’ philosophy. Some people, she infers, can see the good in Kaliningrad, others cannot or will not. But, she believes, that if you see and feel Kaliningrad-Königsberg in a positive light, the city will reward you.
She proceeded to remind me of a day we spent with Victor. We were walking past an old, partly burnt-out Königsberg building. When we brought this building to Victor’s attention, he chuckled. He told us that years ago it used to be a police station. He must have been rather drunk one night, because having been arrested on the streets of Kaliningrad he had the pleasure of spending the night in the cells of this building. When they released him, he cursed the place and wished it would burn down. Shortly afterwards, it did.
From which we had to conclude that our kind, inoffensive and easy-going friend was something of a subliminal pyromaniac. Still, I never had a problem when we visited him in his studio in getting a light for my cigar.
But it was not the mysterious elements of these two stories that had prompted Olga to recall this day. It was Victor’s enthusiasm for a number of old buildings along the street where the burnt-out police station stood.
“I could not understand how Victor could be so excited by these buildings and by the spaces occupied by new buildings where old buildings used to be. I just did not get it,” said Olga. “But now I understand.”
The Mystical Nature of Victor Ryabinin
She alluded to the mystical qualities inherent in this city, referring to the symbolism expressed in the many bas-reliefs and in the other forms of ancient decoration, concluding that in days gone by, and not so long ago, people were more attuned to the other dimension, the world beyond our material existence. It was this intuitiveness that endowed people with a sense of belonging, belonging to the world and the universe. It imparted knowledge of the ‘otherness’ and the place that mortals occupy within its schema. It gave people a deeper insight into and understanding of the mystical, all of which is now threatened by an overt and misappropriated emphasis instilled and prosecuted by the globalists for the sake of their ‘Me, Myself, I’ culture, at the centre of which is alienating technology and the drive to reduce us all to nothing more than consumer clones. And I am sure that within this context coronavirus and its divisive objective also got a mention.
I thought for a moment, and then said, “There was certainly something mystical about Victor.”
“We were perceptive to this,” she emphasised. “This is why we enjoyed Victor’s company, because we were on the same wavelength. Victor was unique in many ways. He was non-judgemental; he accepted people for what they were, and he accepted situations; I do not remember him being really negative about anything or anyone.”
It is two years now, by our understanding of time, since Victor stepped out of time, but hardly a day goes by when we do not mention him. Since his death, Victor has become the benchmark by which we judge both the architectural and cultural developments in this region. Whenever we observe something new, such as the restoration of an old building or the construction of a new one, one or other of us will ask, “I wonder if Victor would have approved of this?” or will categorically state, “Victor would have loved this!” or “Victor would not have liked this!” whatever the case may be.
On 20 May 2021, Olga learnt that the green light had been given for Kaliningrad to invest in and organise the Kant celebration, which is scheduled to take place on the anniversary of the birth of Immanuel Kant, the German philosopher, in 2024.
As a boy who grew up in the ruins of Konigsberg and for whom this city and its history was his first love and his life’s work, the prospect of the Kant celebration was something that was very dear to Victor’s heart and something he had been looking forward to experiencing. Said Olga, on hearing the news that the Kant celebration was to go head: “Victor would have been so proud!”
We, too, are proud, to have been blessed with the friendship of Victor Ryabinin.
Postscript:
On the first anniversary of Victor Ryabinin’s death, our friend Stas (Stanislav Konovalov), student and friend of Victor Ryabinin, drove us to Victor’s graveside to pay our respects. Afterwards, we stopped in Kaliningrad and went for a short walk along the top of the ramparts and defensive banks next to the King’s Gate. Stas died in November 2020.
In memory of a good friendship too short-lived.
Copyright © 2018-2021 Mick Hart. All rights reserved.
