Tretyakov, Volkov, Yusupov...

The temperature is slowly dropping in Moscow and after exploring the city on another cold day, popping into a nice, cosy place like the Balchug Kempinski is as good as it gets. It is not as glittery and gaudy as the Ritz, and doesn't need to be, with the smiling, attentive staff and the soft tones of the classic décor. As I sit here writing, the soothing sound of jazz music created by the bass guitar and the trumpet, flowing into the lobby from the adjacent Café Kranzier, has made my short stay in Moscow totally worthwhile. After the Swisshotel, this is my next favorite place for some quiet time in Moscow.

It has been another weekend of cultural experiences in the city and I'm thrilled at what I have found. On Saturday, I made my way to the Tretyakov Gallery which had been on my to-do list for a while. This time when I came out of the Tretyakovskaya metro station, which also serves Ostrovsky's House Museum, I went in a different direction from the one I normally take to my tango lesson. I passed the Library of the Institute of Sciences housed in yet another Russian, neo-classical architectural style building in a yellow pastel tone, and a square displaying a sculpture of artwork in frames very much in demand photographically.

Instead of going straight into the museum I chose to continue along the pedestrian walk which led to Kadashevskaya Embankment lined with plain, pastel-colored low rises, looking onto the river and the Kremlin, as well as an endless line of huge tour buses parked on the side and a series of trees embellished with padlocks from wedding couples sealing their forever after. It was a cold, gray day, but the walk was pleasant so I retraced my steps after I'd spent some time admiring the Kremlin and its surroundings. Another short detour before I made it to the museum took me on a visit to the Temple of the Resurrection of Christ in Kadashi. Although undergoing reconstruction, and crumbling in places, the church could still be visited. It stood erect in all its past glory with glistening bulbs and crosses on the roof and a sturdy belfry.

I made my way through the entrance and up the stairs into the church. I was surprised to find labeled indoor plants everywhere, which made me think it may have been used as a botanical garden back in communist times, although I could be wrong. Or the priests just love gardening. A nuns' convent on the outskirts of Veliky Novgorod revealed the same practice.  I climbed the stairs to the church where a sign warned me to “switch off my phone and observe the awesome silence”. I paid heed to the sign. The church had been restored on the inside, where the flames of the usual lit candles could be seen fluttering, but this church dating from the latter part of the 17^th century, seemed to have taken a real beating and would need a lot of help to recover its past image.

After paying my respects at the church and taking in the solemnity it exuded, it was finally time to make it to the Tretyakov Gallery. I paid for my ticket, which was once again higher than that of Russian nationals, and an extra 200 rubles for the privilege of taking photographs. My interest and excitement increased as I walked from room to room with a display of works of painters I had not heard of and was glad I had made the effort to experience this jewel in Moscow. As is usually the case, we tend to know more about our own area and culture and need to make an extra effort to find out about what is unfamiliar to us. This discovery of Russian painters I was in the dark about, was a wealth of information and knowledge I needed to digest slowly, and felt that I would need to read up on these artists besides making another visit to the museum – Ugryumov, Shchukin, Borovikovsky, Perov, Kirov, and many more.

Ivanov’s gigantic mural depicting the biblical scene of the bathers by the river to whom the Messiah appeared was a favorite of many visitors who sat on the comfortable benches provided for them to view the painting at ease an at their leisure. Another mural depicting a battle, landscapes of places in Italy, like Capri and Sorrento, seemed to be favored tremendously by some of the artists, as were portraits, realistic paintings, sculptures… it was endless and I couldn't get enough of it. Nevertheless, after two hours, I felt I needed a break to assimilate all I'd seen. Moreover, as the day progressed, the museum filled up with more visitors which usually does not allow for an enjoyable viewing, so I thought it would be better if I left.

This time, I would have taken Makovsky’s “Declaration of Love” with me for my foyer – the young couple indoors on a summer day. She looks shy as she is sitting with her head bowed, and he is standing with his side to her, cap under his left armpit… one can easily guess what they’re talking about with no chaperone in sight. The brightness in the picture inspires love and hope for the new couple as lush vegetation can be seen through the window behind them.  I couldn't be greedy. I had to leave something for the other visitors to choose from.  It had certainly been a great experience and one I'd definitely like to repeat. As I collected my coat to leave I realized how long the line at the ticket offices had become and thought to make my next visit an early morning one.

On my agenda for the next day was a visit to the Volkov-Yusupov Palace on Kharitonevsky Street. One piece of reading had led to another and eventually onto information about this palace that not even my Russian colleagues knew about. It could only be visited on an organized tour on Sunday at 11 and I made sure I was there for that event. Krasniye Vorota (Red Gates) metro station, which is the closest to the palace, is one of the stops on the metro tour organized by the Ministry of Architecture in Moscow, although it is not particularly spectacular. In comparison to the other stations I have visited, this one is dark, has no ornaments except the dark, blood-red paint color used for the walls. I don’t remember the guide saying much about the station, except that it was on the red line, among the first stations to be opened and was close to Bulgakov’s residence – the famously known Russian writer of “Master and Margarita”.

I made my way out of the metro station, leaving behind one of Stalin’s Seven Sisters, the former Leningradsky Hotel, which is now the Hilton Leningradsky, and headed to my destination. It was a short walk along the busy Sadovaya Chornogryazkaya Street for a few minutes, after which I turned right into a side-street with abundant vegetation and buildings of palatial architecture. I joined the group on the tour through the different rooms which paled in comparison to the well-known Yusupov Palace in St Petersburg. From the guide’s explanations, none of the residents whose portraits could be seen in different rooms ever spent much time there. They seemed to be mostly in St Petersburg, and I can understand why.

The place is now more likely to be used as an events center. The rooms downstairs were empty except for wallpaper-like decorations of water lilies on the ceiling, gilded door frames and more decorations of gold and red on the walls. The history of the building was narrated as we walked through the rooms. Numerous names were mentioned, among them Alexander Volkov, Ivan the Terrible and Yusupov, not Felix known for the murder of Rasputin, but one of his ancestors who was the last to own it before the revolution.

The hunting scenes painted in one of the rooms downstairs, and the location of the palace in the woods as it would have been at the time suggests it was on hunting grounds, thus the palace was used in hunting season by guests and hosts. Two halls upstairs were set up in dining room fashion; long rectangular table with chairs and big plasma screens in picture frames keeping in tone with the décor of the period. Such apparels could only be indicative of business meetings with presentations. The interior has been done up nicely, however, the beating it had taken from several decades of disrepair is still visible on the exterior.

The visit over, I came to a nice place to celebrate the satisfaction of another cultural experience in Moscow, and the Balchug Kempinski Hotel has been just right for that – warm shelter from the cold outside, calm soothing atmosphere to enjoy nice drinks and listen to music. Gluhwein seems to taste different everywhere I've had it so far, and following the same pattern, this was no different. It was beautifully presented in a glass mug with a slice of fresh orange on the rim held by the rind. The mango sorbet with a twig of mint in a deep, cut-glass ice cream bowl tasted heavenly, and had I not had to watch how my clothes fit, would have had more than one scoop. For the first time in Moscow, I was not told, “no, we don’t have soy milk”. I could see the waiter was not sure, but accepted my order and I saw him make his way behind me and return to the bar with soy milk for my soy latte, which was served in a beautiful, funnel-shaped, glass, accompanied by a spoon with a very long handle to reach its depths.

And finally, the Banana Bee – blended orange juice, banana and honey - was the icing on the cake. All of this placed on a dark wood coffee table, standing on a plush red carpet with beige and burgundy flower motifs, where my feet also rest comfortably. Similarly, the silver sugar bowl with lumps of brown and white sugar, the tongs clasped on the side, sits beside a small bowl with miniature envelopes bearing the hotel logo containing artificial sweetener. So does a porcelain ashtray with silver edges and an embossed italic B.

I enjoy the pleasant setting and treats leisurely, in a soft armchair of mellow gold tones, ensconced in an open area held by shiny, rectangular marble pillars. The occasional, light clinking of china and silverware can be heard faraway at the bar as the guests are entertained by jazz filling our ears and nourishing our souls from next door in Kranzier Café.