After the collapse of the Soviet Union, I visited Moscow and St. Petersburg and joined a diverse tour group. The object of my special interest was the world famous Hermitage Museum at St. Petersburg. I tried to absorb as much as I could in a few hours on tour. I returned the next day on my own free time.
It's easy to understand why the Hermitage is a World Heritage site. It is a treasure trove of valuable art and historic objects. Each enormous room is a unique spectacle of design and purpose. In a word--unforgettable.
I had a ticket to a Kirov Ballet and Opera performance of Glinka's "Rusian and Ludmila" at the Mariinsky Theatre. I sat in my designated seat among other foreign tourists, who were excited and talked too much. The Russians seated near us turned and looked at us disapprovingly. We understood, and shut up. That was before the music started.
Don't dare to speak after the show starts--you may be ejected by Russian audience members using the force of moral indignation! They will stare you and steer you to the exits!
It's not Broadway. The experience is like the solemn experience of church. Russians show respect for the conductor, orchestra and performers from the moment they enter a theatre. At the conclusion of a performance, polite reserve and subdued emotions break into loud and prolonged applause.
When I was in Moscow I went to the Bolshoi Theatre (before renovation) and watched a performance of Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake." I noticed the same rapt attention by Russian audience members and the same disapproval of anyone, foreign or domestic, who spoke too much, coughed too much, or even whispered too much. Russians are truly serious about ballet and opera. It is not a pretence.
The Russian people I met at St. Petersburg were wonderful people. They dressed and looked like people who lived in upstate New York. Many wore leather jackets and coats.It was late March, and we had snow flurries often.
Cold cuts for breakfast were unexpected for this American, but I got used to them. Hard boiled eggs, some vegetables and fruits were available. I bought snacks at a curbside store near my hotel to augment the few and paltry meals which were part of the tour package.
On my last night in Moscow I wanted to photograph St. Basil's Cathedral in the Kremlin. Our Russian guide, a former policeman, objected. He was responsible for his tour group and didn't want to lose anyone. He knew that I didn't speak the language. He asked, "How do you intend to navigate the metro system?"
The metro station signs were written with the letters of the Cyrillic alphabet. I told him that I had studied the Cyrillic alphabet and knew how to translate to Roman or Western. He tested me, then said: "You can go--if you have a companion." A Mexican tourist, a polite and interesting young man, volunteered to go with me. He wanted to photograph St. Basil's too.
The metro runs deep underground. It has world-class tile art at the stations.
It was dark when we arrived at the Kremlin. We walked to the area around St. Basil's Cathedral, which was lighted and beautiful at night. We snapped several photos. Then we returned to the hotel.
I had the negatives developed when I arrived home. One of the prints is framed and hanging in my house. It reminds me of this wonderful and interesting trip every time I see it.
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