Redshift

Like the long travelled red light of a dead star, the revolutionary iconography of an earlier era is suprisingly omnipresent in the Russian Federation. From the red stars that still adorn the Kremlin towers to the local V.I. Lenin statue in the neighborhood square, the rusting and paint peeling relics of the 69 year history of the Soviet Union add a sense of historical layering, that would not be out of place in Rome. While the double-headed eagles of the Romanov Crown did not fair so well in 1917, even the ugliest symbols of Soviet Rule proved suprisingly long-lived (Stalin's statue in Gori, Georgia was only taken down early this year). But for the most part, in Russia, officials have been stymied by a combination of an older generation's nostalgia, and a resignation at the hydra-like regenerative capability of inanimate Soviet Molding.

Fotos below:

Soviet memorbilia litters the all-to sunny-park outside the back enterance to the Tretyakov Gallery of Modern Art. (Also the basis for a memorable cerpuscular scene in the deliciously post-Soviet 007 film, Goldeneye). While poking fun at the Ozymandius quality of the park's broken nosed, red-marble Stalin Statue in 2008, my friend and I were quieted by an old-couple laying a blue bouquet at his feet. At the time, and to present, I thought the gesture rather inconsiderate to the memorial of Stalin's victims, right beside him.


Stalin's pal, and a strong competitor in the worst human-ever-category, Felix Dzerzhinsky, entombed in Statue Park after a decade's long run outside KGB headquarters. (Wiki image).


Lenin II, prominently displayed outside Voronezh Oblast Government Headquarters (Lenin #1 was carried off by the German-Fascists Invaders in 1942). Caption, "A noble heart embiggens the smallest man."


Back in Voronezh, Star and sickled steel gate.


"In Soviet Union, even lightposts celebrated glory of Socialist Progress"


The imposing pediment of the Voronezh State Pedagogical University.


Enlarged.




Sometimes tasteful updates to a buildings facade, in this case the Central Voronezh Post Office, results in permenant scars.


If only every town could have a "Praise to the Soviet Sciences" traffic circle.


The Dentist Academy didn't quite know what to do with the former resident's decorating style.


An ironic pairing. The Hammer and Sickle and Comfort Systems. A friendly reminder of all of the consumer electronics the motherly Soviet military-industrial-state never quite managed to provide.


From my estimations, a full 5% of the Soviet GDP went to memorial plaques, such as this one, commemorating the first meeting of the Revolutionary Bolshevik Committee in Voronezh.


More Soviet moulding.


V.M. Emeliyanovich, Hero of the Soviet Union. Died 1942. In the U.S., it would be surprising to see fresh flowers at a memorial outside the VFW Hall. In Russia, fresh flowers are the norm, and a guady white limousine, with a semi-inebriated wedding party, taking pictures at the city's forever flame, honoring the millions of war dead, is not an extraordinary happening.


An odd juxtaposition. Still looking for the money shot, Marx and the Cross.


Iconography recycled. The modern Russian state has borrowed heavily from its imperial forebearers, including the Romanov Double Headed Eagle. even tackling England's heraldric monopoly on St. George, with the Orange and Black making a comeback in Voronezh's billboards and suspended from car antennas.


The Hammer & Sickle, the penultimate symbol of young angst, second only to the misdrawn Swastika(Look to the upcoming post on Graffitti and Street Art)