Day the First 1/5/99

New journal, new (and final) adventure with the scholars. Got here ok, meet up with the Sawinski show in queens after a bit of delay over them changing money + final packing set off. Discovered that D's new camera was fresh out of batteries, couldn't find them at the airport, her parents actually headed back to the real world and came back an hour later with the batteries. Connected in Helsinki, beautiful while landing and taking off, all the snow covered pine trees, someone said it looked like Santa's country. Arrived in Moscow, customs pretty nonexistent, hope getting out is as easy as getting in-nobody with loudspeakers requesting you turn over your foreign currency a'la Bulgakov. The regulation bossy little old lady for a tour guide, don't see how you can do that for a living and keep it interesting, don't think you can.  Took a walk outside the hotel, a pretty good view of nothing in particular from the window.  Saw a guy stopped by a cop apparently showing his papers, that is something that I've really seen only in fiction previously, nothing too menacing about it I suppose... still. Walking through the snow and wind I'm reminded that I always imagined The Master and Margarita as taking place in winter, though they're constantly referring to the heat of summer. Now seeking the place in winter is just reinforcing it. The greyish streets are the kind of place where you'd expect to meet evil apparitions stalking the street. Took another wander through red square with D+A, was cold, wish I had a sensible hat. Also thinking a second coat of waterproofing on these boots would have been a good thing. An, again regulation, mediocre hotel dinner in what the guide referred to as the fairy tale restaurant, a reference I presume to the folk decor. After that a subway tour, had something of a 'what can we do to occupy the Americans event but some interesting stuff, a hell of a lot of marble of various sorts in those subways, not to mention the socialist realism 'masterpieces'. Never understood why it was called that unless its what socialists see as reality. No breakthrough on Bulgakov, the book [Mikhail Bulgakov's master and margarita, doing illustrations of it was my 'scholars' project for the trip] is in Alanna's hands at the moment. Just need to start sketching.

Day the Second 1/6/99

A not entirely inspiring day. It never got light in the morning, so had a heck of a time getting up shower, another one of those barbarous European arrangements where they seem to expect you to sit down while you wash. The city tour was typically for creatures of its species a drive endlessly in circles tour.  Saw the new maidens nunnery from the outside. We hit the cemetery which was quite interesting. Quite a variety of monuments, some quite interesting sculpturally, all reputedly important people. I asked the guide about Bulgakov and she claimed he was buried there but couldn't or wouldn't find the spot. Not sure she even knew what she was talking about, maybe we couldn't spare the time from important things like Stalin's second wife. Irritating to be so close (maybe) but miss it. All the same it's not the dead Bulgakov but the living that I'm trying to see. Actually it seems kind of appropriate that his grave should be hidden from sight, he didn't live a loud fame filled life (Bulgakov that is Stalin be dammed) And in another sense he lives on so how can you visit his grave. The new something or other, they had some interesting pieces of modern sculpture besides taken down official sculptures of various KGB thugs etc, a giant maritime monument in the background which is kind of surreal. Went to pay a visit on comrade Lenin, passed a hell of an accident on the highway. Stood for a half hour on line to be shoved by grade scholars through a cattle gate and be desultorily scanned with a hand metal detector. File by, ordered into two by two's, those with hats told to take them off, hands out of your pockets, bit strange really, he looks like a wax saint in a church altar, doesn't strike me as healthy by any means. Sat in a shopping area, then wandered + got lost, tried and eventually succeeded in finding a map, after that my patience wearing a bit thin. Back to hotel, out again.   Had Russian fast food, little filled bread things and weird beer that tasted like iced tea.. All second grade fresh undoubtedly. Another regulation dinner, almost identical to prior night except for cream of mushroom in these little cups. Deirdre decided it was sauce for the meat after I'd eaten it with a spoon. Out again in search of a pub but failed, the armor in a store window as standard Spanish export stuff. Had a sundae at McDonalds, had enough trouble getting it. Back and to bed.

Day the Third 1/7/99

Another day, the consensus of the posse was not to do the monastery trip to head to the Pushkin museum instead. Headed there on metro. Standing endlessly on streetcorners pondering the map, when we got there it appeared to be closed, though I'm not sure we ever really found it. I guess we must have but it was supposed to be open. So wandered the streets till it became a bit surreal, back at Red Square but visiting hours were in progress. Back to Russian fast food place, had a mushroom filled thing + another weird malt thing. Headed in search of Patriarch's Pond from the opening of the Master and Margarita. It's a relatively small kind of cute park with a currently frozen but rather large for the parks size pond. Kids were making snowmen on the frozen surface and a lot of people were walking around, couple guys playing hockey of a sort. I wonder where a train line could have run, a bunch of the buildings must have been old enough to be there in Bulgakov's time. It was really hard just to imagine the place in summer with the trees all green never mind taking 70 years off. It was cool to see the spot though. I tried to do a bit of sketching but it was raining a bit hard for the fountain pen ran and ball points apparently don't write on wet paper so took some pictures and headed on. Back to hotel, dinner almost edible despite usual dismal appetizers. Chris posed the question: if he announces something and asks for objections and doesn't get any does that justify it no matter?  kicking someone in the teeth and more picturesquely putting his penis in his coffee cup were cited as examples, ah travelling with the countries intellectual cream. The lecture was ok, a bit anecdotal but your dealing with social science people here. Headed out with Pete D+A had a sundae ad Mc'Ds That took a long time, general discussion. Walked though red square at night. Added spray painting the addition "is dead get over it" or "for a good time call" to the inscription on  Lenin's monument to the list of ways to  get kicked out of Russia. Already on the list: shouting 'look he moved' while filing through the necropolis. I suppose what makes you uncomfortable comes in for the most criticism.

Day the Fourth 1/8/99

The Kremlin its great, everyone troops through metal detectors, sets them off and continues on. Saw the armory. An incredible collection of elaborate bits and bob. Cant help but thinking "while the peasants starved" while walking through the carriage collection. Apparently have the worlds largest collection of early British silver, in Britain it was all melted down during the civil war. A strange thought what the two countries have gone through since, that these would be preserved in what was then a relatively backward part of the world. Saw an orthodox patriarch of some sort all in white while going into the Kremlin. Went to a Pushkin museum, wandered a bit quite interesting, books, personal effects, a pistol. Deirdre kept asking where the French impressionists were. Clearly it was not The Pushkin museum so headed to that.  Dammed popular man Pushkin.  Waited 20 min on line there they let people in in little groups, interesting place, more cool paintings including those French impressionists. An incredible collection of casts of stuff, rooms of it. D seemed scandalized, said it was trippy. Think it violated some sense of the authenticity of art for her to make casts and put them in a museum as if they were as real as the real thing. Hasn't been to the V+A I think. I further resolved to paint bigger pictures. Back to hotel the out gain to follow D in her fruitless quest for a fur hat for her mother. If it was warm it wouldn't be so bad but when it's freezing.  Back. another edible but not desirable dinner, down again for the ballet. Bizarre heading downstairs in the elevator with roommate. A woman gets in and says something I don't catch, I thought in Russian. Roommate says niet, she says something else and he points to himself and says gay. I caught the gist, when we got out he said she was specifically offering him a "sex massage" and when he said no kept asking why, hence his response. The other one that was hanging around from last night sitting on the couch in the lobby. Truly bizarre, this person who must have been 6 something in heels and a foot long dress sitting in your hotel lobby, not that I've seen many but certainly the most attractive prostitute I've seen.  The ballet was cool, sleeping beauty. I was a bit sleepy by the end, more me than it but it could have ended when she wakes up without going into other random stuff.  They also take their applause way to seriously, the rhythmic clapping thing also gets to me. Nice ballet though

Day the Fifth 1/9/99

Another weird day in Russia. First the t something gallery, some quite impressive stuff, 19th century romantic stuff , surreal and historical stuff quite nice. Ivan the terrible holding the body of his son he'd just killed was apparently a popular theme. One of Christ in Gethsemene a weird one my photo came out blurry of a priest +assistant performing rites over a field full of naked corpses spread as far as the eye could see. The Chagal Alanna wanted to see was closed. Wandered, back to hotel then out to a 20's theme diner, strange but pretty good food, the to artists market which was closing up as we got there, mostly junk, pirated CD's Clinton and Monica Lewinski nesting dolls. Other people there earlier said they saw firearms and optics but I didn't see anything. Back then to GUM sat in a cafe + with D+A had a beer, a large one in my case, unintentionally. doodled a bit deaf guy came by selling keychains  and remembering my instructions from Lesley but mostly from the beer got a package for her friend. Lost our first scholar, Jed was feeling better but still had a bit of a fever so he headed home, was afraid of pneumonia which he'd had before. Dinner then fruitless effort to get ice cream at underground mall, not satisfied with 4 flavors they had at the Baskin Robbins.    The train was an interesting setup, different from sleepers I'd seen before, 4 bunks with just enough room to stand breadthwise between. Talked with mike who is kind of compulsive, goes on and on (he is on Ritalin) Apparently a writer of fan fiction for Star wars and Lovecraft mythos stuff, quite a strange character really but likeable enough.  Dave (who'd gone to the circus in Moscow) was saying about the circus that at one point they had a monkey with a keeper + they had him dancing the Hora which people seemed to think was hilarious, understandably insulting you'd think. The stars were beautiful from the window could really see the constellations, didn't sleep tremendously well.

Day the Sixth 1/10/99

awoken by banking on the door, bit later pulled in, to hotel, checked in, to breakfast Quite an impressive breakfast, much better than the last, hot buffet with all sorts of stuff, pancake things, yogurt, oatmeal. Then the city tour which was a bit boring as tours usual are but we saw a bit, the stupid emperor trying to catch up with the clever one. Visited usual souvenir tourist trap, interesting in that it had these elaborate wooden doors under repair, the paint was scraped off but in one place they layered out the strata of paint so you could see each layer. Back to hotel, the out again to see something or other, the vagueness of these plans start to get to me, met guide in subway who provided some advice.Wandered at in fast food place, pretty good Russian stew with French fries, got ice cream and ate as we went dammed cold, had to put my stupid looking hat on then I put the ski mask on and the hat over it.  Wandered more saw the sphinxes by the river, a rather surreal effect. Thought I was freezing to death a few times but didn't. I'd freeze, think I was dying then warm up somehow, then get cold again. Trying to find the subway. At station there was a line, I've never seen a line to get on the subway. Dinner which wasn't bad, and conked out, Dave has lost his camera, so tired.

Day the Seventh 1/11/99

I woke up from a dream involving Russian prostitutes. Breakfast good. Chris typically telling a rather amusing story about people they'd met a t a jazz club, they bought them shots and got tremendously drunk only one of them actually spoke English. headed to fortress, saw the church and a bit of the grounds, current resting place of the last Romanovs and their servants. At the moment there is a rather odd marble pattern painted wooden monument on the spot,  a real one to replace it. Its probably real wood at least since the marble effect looked hand painted but still even if temporary, it looks like a piece of stage scenery. Apparently Peter the great always has flowers, everyone but his are fake. He's got real carnations though, apparently after the French revolution the knights of Malta were persecuted and found shelter and support in Russia under him (he was the grandmaster) so members of the order who visit always arrange to have flowers provided. Wandered, saw a very odd sculpture of peter the great with a pea head which is reputedly to scale. Heard the story that the gesture of tapping your throat to indicate you want to drink vodka with someone comes from a steeplejack they had straighten the angel on top of the church. They couldn't pay him so they got him a certificate good for vodka  wherever he went, but he would loose it so he asked to have it tattooed on his neck,  the gesture imitates his pointing to it. Next church which  which was very impressive, huge malachite columns. What look like oil paintings on the walls are really very intricate mosaics done with subtly different tones. Alanna didn't want to do the tour of the summer palace but D did so we went and she stayed. Summer palace was incredible, elaborately decorated interiors gold and white, not my style personally but once again impressive. Resolved once again that when I have a real place to live to decorate it decently.  Also amazing how much reconstruction was done by the Soviets. Germans tore the place apart. But they rebuilt it all, a monument to a society they labored so hard and paid so much to destroy. All to spite the Germans I suppose, as good a reason as any. Noted however that even the Romanovs (or the Soviets hard to tell) could only afford birds eye maple veneer, the furniture isn't solid. Back then to dinner. Had a Bulgakov like touch during dinner, below us (we were on the promenade)  there was a huge funeral reception of some kind going on a wreath with picture of the dearly deceased and spooky organ music being played on a synthesizer. Just what I want noisy foreigners having dinner above my funeral. I bet they ate better than us. To the ballet, was cool nice music kind of depressing witch and a poisoned shawl, the guy dies, had a heck of a time grasping what was going on, wonder how such a strange art form ever started, no idea. Discussed art with Deirdre, probably offended her with my Mark twain quote about the old masters. I'm probably just contrary minded but on occasion her sacred art of the great masters thing gets to me. I don't like them because their great, they're great because I like them, that's the proper order to my mind.

Day the Eight 1/12/99

First the dream, I was walking long a street sort of in NYC but not quite, was tropical and alien. Was with D and there were other people, we went into a store, wandered D saying she didn't need anything from  homeless woman on the street with nail files and stuff attached to a board in front of her. Somehow or other I offended her and some friend of hers a huge Hispanic guy had me pushed against a wall and was question me, what do you know about her, how she is sacred. Wanted to get away but started getting sincere and gave a speech on how I knew she was sacred all gods creatures were sacred she was sacred that was all I knew, it was enough. He keep aggressively asking how she was sacred but there was a sense that I'd answered correctly and the menace was gone. One way or another I wound up involved with this marble temple on big grounds in the city it didn't seem religious , there were alot of animals that lived there and these big displays. In a sort of central fountain or pool were really important. There was this person sort of me and sort of some woman that went to the temple regularly. I /she was going and I could see her/me going down a path. In the foreground there were these two oak trunks, they went up and down and were the feet of a big twiglike creature that lived there. It was following, her/me around, there was an image of it fighting with this big lumpy clay golem thing, It didn't seem to be getting the best of the other thing. Then I remember a bunch of people working taking interlocking marble blocks away from the central fountain. They were a covering that formed a dome over it. You could see brownish water as the stones were taken off, a block was broken. I remember a leader type saying that too many blocks had been broken and could not be replaced. People brought 4 or 5 broken blocks out and laid them on the ground in front of him, he was speaking in Italian.

    Breakfast was interesting, there was  an older American man he was apparently a Texas land developer on vacation bc with all the flooding in the west they couldn't transport heavy machinery. So he came to St Petersburg to visit a "little lady" in his words he had meet on the internet. A metallurgist, been in touch for   2 years, was quite strange, the guy seemed to have done everything. He was a musician, air force pilot, of course he may just lie like a Texan as well.  The Hermitage took all day and well worth it. Great museum, huge collection could spend another day there, not too much Russian stuff, some really nice paintings, sculpture. Took pictures of some stuff. These high relief sculptures of people set in frames which were windows of worn buildings. Brickwork and the like, I definitely  have to do more ornate fiddly stuff. We left at 5:00 I could have seen more. They didn't have much armor 1 room but they had a really cool gothic gauntlet, rather impressive. Took a bunch of pictures of it probably all fruitless, then the evening headed  to Valentina's birthday party, quite an experience. I was kind of reluctant but it turned out really cool.  We were going to get flowers for her, a guy in a beret with a British accent stopped and there was general milling and confusion about someone who told him to meet a bunch of Americans there. Later found out to be a friend of Valentina's Misha, actually Russian, had just learned British English, learned it incredibly well. So set off,   subway to bus to a huge lot with a bunker like apartment building in the middle. A rather big nice apartment. Scholars outnumbered Russians but it was cool. Early in the evening Pete downed a number of vodkas (I had one)  gestures for me to come close, put his arm around my shoulder + said, "I can admit it among us men but I am feeling those shots. The problem is when I get drunk I start speaking in German and doing the gestures, clicking my heels together" he was hilarious, said he then often breaks into Deuschland which is very strange indeed.  Misha apparently knows alot of Irish songs and did quite a few of them rather well, he had an encyclopedic knowledge of music so D+ A did  the performance fleece thing which was pretty bad. I was prevailed on to dance for the 5th time in my life. Though it adds a bit of dignity to the occasion that it was with a Slavic languages professor celebrating her 50th birthday.  As we were leaving Dave + the blond guy just showed up at the door by some kind of miracle.  I have no idea how they managed, incredible luck. Headed back on the subway with the blond guy  in an American field jacket.   Quite an evening.

Day the Ninth 1/13/99

Russian museum, Alanna was sick and didn't eat or go out. Museum was cool, spent too much time in state rooms with dubious portraits of old men and their more dubious but much less old wives.Some great pictures, 19th century, all the giant battle scenes and morbid genre deathbed stuff great. Especially noted marine painter who could supposedly could create a seascape blindfolded.  Also a painter who  did weird lighting effects, the moon over the river, incredibly vibrant, not quite sure its flat paint.  The story was it was taken to a village and the peasants looked behind  the canvas not believing that there wasn't a source of light behind it. We were kind of rushed. Back to check on Alanna she still wasn't well so we headed out with Dave and the Lovecraft looking guy. Ate at the literary café, noted that gin and tonic was listed under soft drinks regret I never had one of those. Was the last place the holy Pushkin dallied before his fatal duel. Looking for this guy Dave bought a coat from  the day before. Guy had asked if he wanted to see his store which turned out to be his apartment which he shared with another family but we couldn't find him. Headed for the other market near the church of spilled blood. In a fit of insanity or to kill time bought 2 malachite pins for the stones, I asked the woman if they had just stones, she stopped and looked at me goggle eyed for a bit asked someone at the next table then assured me the pin backings came off very easy. It did in my pocket heading back to the hotel. That and an imitation military patch of some sort.  D went to get vodka, recommended stuff was only $2 a bottle pretty incredible almost made me wish I drank. Headed back, dinner, hung out talked with peter + Bryan. Apparently Pete's family is old German and they've got a good bit of armor, squirreled away back in  Germany.

Day the Tenth 1/14/99

Airportwards. Stopped at war monument rather amazing, doesn't look like much from outside but rather impressive from inside though of course a bit heavy. The grey sky, the black stone the eternal flames burning around the periphery. Pretty amazing. Inside cases with  some pretty powerful exhibits. A piece of the sawdust bread they ate during the siege, a bullet riddled helmet and a withered daisy. A case of personal effects with bullet holes in them, soviet booklets marked with hammer and sickle. Faded liquid marks, silly but it never occurred to me before that blood fades.