In keeping with my recent experiences visiting obscure museums, this
particular outing was to catch the Russian Packaging Design Exhibit
before it closed down. Every so often I come across these gems and
since I have time on my hands, I rush out to view them because, really,
when else am I ever going to have access to these opportunities? Sadly,
my partner-in-crime of the past two years has moved back to Canada so I
am once again on my own to visit these places.
That’s life, c’est la vie, это жизнь.
This
day I was rewarded with a two-fold experience. Not only was the
exhibit worth writing home about but the venue was rewarding as well.
It was a brilliant day when I emerged from a metro station in the far
north of the city (ВДНХ) and made my way along Проспект Мира towards
what I thought was a building in the center of a garden in the center of
a city block. Oh, Google Earth, you are a fickle mistress. What was
tagged as the address of the exhibition hall was, in fact, a private
school nestled in behind a wrought-iron fence whose grounds were
protected by a very unfriendly pack of (seemingly wild) German Shepherd
guard dogs. I double checked and made sure that I had the correct
address and coordinates but to no avail. There was no guard to ask
questions at the entrance. The dogs continued to bark - I swear they
were foaming at the mouth and just itching to sink their teeth in to the
juicy, lost tourist separated from them by nothing more than a few iron
bars. As my stress level mounted, the sun seemed to shine even
brighter making me now sweat profusely. In accordance with prophesy, to
top it all off, all of a sudden I needed to find a toilet. STAT. In
retrospect, it probably wasn’t a very sound idea to chug almost a liter
of water before leaving the house. Thankfully there was a lovely lady
searching for information at the same time I was. She wanted
information about the classes offered at the school and I was looking
for the exhibition grounds. We helped each other out.
She was
kind enough to show me that the All Russian Exhibition Center grounds
were actually back where I came from. Once I realized what she was
showing me, I knew enough to tell her that I wanted something
different. I wanted an exhibit at a venue just outside of the fair
grounds. The guard had returned to his post by now and we were able to
ask him for information and directions. It turns out that I was simply a
block shy of my destination and had I not been so befuddled and
desperate to use the loo, I would have found my address not 500m later.
A
few charade gestures indicating that what I really wanted was the
building with a large sculpture of a man and woman on the top on the
next block over, I was unceremoniously ushered off and found myself on
my merry way towards imminent relief. Heat, stress and frustration,
when combined, have rather strong repercussions on the human body.
(Don’t panic, nothing gross is coming up here.) Convinced that I would
not make it to the loo in time, I felt the reverberations of every
footfall throughout my body and every inhalation of air took up precious
space and caused undue pressure on my internal organs. I was almost in
tears as my bladder seemed to shrink to the size of a pea at that exact
moment. I just knew that in my heart of hearts I would be reduced to a
mess in a matter of seconds.
The mind certainly plays tricks on the body and vice versa.
Once
I emerged from under the shade of the trees lining the edge of the
block and looked across the street and up towards the structure before
me, all thoughts of imminent relief instantly left my mind. I was
completely taken aback by the wondrous beauty before me and all concerns
about my urgent call of nature vanished in an instant.
To my
astonishment, I was met by a building that is the embodiment of
rectilinear symmetry that is particular to the Art Deco architectural
style, complete with Рабочий и Колхозница (Worker and Collective Farm
Girl) - a sculpture of epic proportions - as its crowning glory.
It
turns out that the exhibition hall was a recreation of the Soviet
pavilion erected at the 1937 Paris World’s Fair. Some of you may know
that I have a strong proclivity for the style of Art Deco. For whatever
reason, I take comfort in the simplicity, order, harmony, strength,
luxury and glamour that emanate from colossi such as the Snowdon Theater
in Montreal (closed since 1984), the Chrysler Building in NYC and the
Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. I would have felt right at home in
the 1930’s.
Washroom visited, ticket purchased and air
conditioning relieving my poor, overheated body I set forth to visit the
exhibit I had actually come here for. IN accordance with local custom,
there were three бабушки jealously guarding the entrance to the
exhibition halls. Once my ticket was verified for authenticity (despite
the fact that the ticket wicket is no more than five meters from where the
ladies were seated and they were watching me closely as I paid the
entrance fee not one minute before), I was directed kindly but firmly in
the direction of the lifts to the fourth floor. I even received a
tutorial in how to use the lift and was informed that the doors would
open on the other side so I should stand facing the wall. Of course, I
wholeheartedly complied.
You DON’T want to mess with the бабушки here.
EVER.
One
half of the fourth floor housed the beginning of the building’s
permanent exhibition of the history of the structure and the other side
contained the Russian Packaging Design exhibit. I started with the
building design exhibit where one can learn more of the history and view
the architectural plans for the building on display. It is a truly
fascinating experience to be standing within the very structure you are
studying. Inception conception?
Walking through the corridor that connects the two halves of the fourth
floor, visitors can see the enormous milk carton that announces the
temporary exhibit of packaging design. One can’t help but be drawn to
the space out of sheer curiosity if nothing else.
As
a foreigner who is not familiar with the history of packaging in
Russia, the exhibit was very engaging. It provided a detailed record of
the influence of fashion and popular culture/style on the retail
industry. I was taken aback by a few of the tins - the label with
children playing Cowboys & Indians and the toothpaste tin with a
“Black Face” character on the front. Others I just loved, like the
Наташа and Саша (Natasha and Sasha/hers and his) hair dye boxes from the
80’s and the Rubik’s cube.
It also served as a lesson in
everyday Russian life for me. Just because we do things one way in
North America does not mean it is the only way to do it. My favourite
example is how milk cartons are pyramid in shape as opposed to our small
cubes. I’m sure they fit into crates for transport just as easily!
For
the Russians in the exhibition space, the objects and images on display
in the exhibit seemed to serve as a trip down memory lane. There were a
few patrons who were gushing and chatting about the memories that were
evoked by the various objects on display. There was a family of four
with parents showing their young children the objects that they
themselves recalled from their youth. An older woman with a middle-aged
friend was recalling her experiences in the past with some of the older
artifacts on display.
 |
| Caramel |
 |
| beer from St. Petersburg |
 |
| Red October Chocolate Factory cacao |
 |
| Toothpaste |
 |
| Make a strong statement for 50 р 7 коп. |
 |
| Our Industry Caramel - Red October Chocolate Factory |
 |
| Children's toys |
 |
| pasta |
 |
| plastic bag |
1980 Olympics memorabilia
 |
| plastic bag |
 |
| match boxes |
 |
| plastic bag |
 |
| Toys - Rubik's Cube, Tank, Cars |
 |
| I drink J7 juice! Finally, something I recognize. |
 |
| "Comme il faut" chocolate company |
 |
| Milk cartons |
 |
| Soviet Union bottle caps |
Leaving
the exhibition hall, visitors are directed to walk around the corner
and down a ramp to the next levels. There you come across a continuing
exhibit of the history of Soviet pavilions at various World’s Fairs
throughout the XXth Century. When I reached the level that showed Expo
‘67 in Montreal, I couldn’t help but exclaim out loud to the startled
security guard that Montreal was MY city. He seemed confused at first
but then quickly realized what I was trying to say. He was pleasantly
surprised as well. We chatted for a short while - me with my pidgin
Russian and him with his infinite patience - and we both parted with
smiles on our faces. I’m pretty sure he thought I was a crazy tourist
but at least he got to chat with someone instead of be treated as an
invisible entity and I got to unleash my kindergarten Russian on
someone.
This was, indeed, a wonderful experience from start to finish.
No comments:
Post a Comment