Chapter III Memories of Russia
London, 13th of November 2020
What do you call memories of which you don't actually have memories of? Fantasies, Delusions, Past Life Memories or Desires perhaps? A friend recently asked me what my life long interest (read: obsession) with Imperial Russia was all about and when it began. The truth is, I Don't Know.
I've always been interested, enthralled and bewitched by the idea of Imperial Russia. It's been like that for as long as I can remember. I was probably ten or eleven when I started to take books home from the local library about Russia in its heyday. The librarian always remarked that these were book for adults with a lot of text, but I never cared. I took them home for 3 weeks, returned them and took them home again, much to my delight.
I was always different from all the other children at school, I was always far more interested in people who lived centuries ago than in celebrities who were all the rage with my contemporaries, I simply didn't care and I still don't, I'm happy to say.
When school was over on Friday, there was nothing I loved more than to dive into my books about Imperial Russia, Jewelry and the Belle Époque. I used to get them every Thursday evening when I would go into town with my Mama. We used to go shopping, followed by my usual trip to the library and then on to supper at our favourite brasserie or hotel. This was a time before the internet could provide you with all the things it does now, the main source of my information were books, countless amounts of books. When we would have our Friday and Saturday evening canapés (I always had a ginger ale as a child, which I loved and later joined them with real drinks) usually accompanied by Frank Sinatra or something of the sort I always brought my books with me, piled on the sofa or spread on the floor around me. It was the highlight of the week, my refuge from the real world, school. A place where no one really knew what I was talking about, let alone to know who those people were of which I talked about and made endless doodles of tiaras and court dresses in my notebook specifying train lengths for Grand Duchesses and Countesses. These weekends and every evening away from homework I could possibly afford were always a delight. And I find myself still doing it when I visit my parents and flick through all the books I have there, but now accompanied by white wine or perhaps champagne, not ginger ale.
Perhaps it was the close ties that the Dutch and British Royal families have with the Romanovs, I don't know. But Russian court life and society in Imperial Russia has always had a particular fascination for me. But it gained another dimension and perspective when I visited Moscow a few years ago.
When I visited in March of that year, and the aeroplane approached Sheremetyevo airport, the landscape below me was covered with tall and dark pie trees covered with enormous amounts of snow, a sight that thrilled me to the core! When taking a taxi to Moscow the icy wind was howling through the dark streets of the capital carrying enormous amounts of snow with it. I passed a glowingly lit Red Square, with the Kremlins imposing walls and the cathedral's iconic domes and with a quietness that only snow can bring. That was the first real sight I saw of Moscow and that's how I remember it. But at the same time I felt that those friendly ghosts that I carried with me all that time, finally came to life.
In Moscow I had a marvellous time. My guide was a lovely girl I studied with at university and had been living in Moscow for a long time. The rubble was very low due to another political crisis so I lived extremely well for almost two weeks. Not quite like the Tsar but perhaps more like a Grand Duke, dressed in a Swakara fur lined cape in which I roamed the streets, the Bolshoi and the Kremlin. Apart from the culture and the usual places to visit, I was enthralled by Moscow, it's sheer size, the scale of the squares and buildings and its life. The only thing I did, consciously or unconsciously was to imagine life in Tsarist Russia, all the stories, biographies and accounts I had read all of a sudden came to life in the greatest of detail! The pastel coloured palaces, the galleries filled with dazzling portraits of members of society and the Kremlin cathedrals, the Armoury and the jewel vault.
The Kremlin Armoury was nothing short of spectacular, A dazzling amount of furniture, armour, carriages, porcelain, artefacts and all the court dresses and the Ermine Coronation Robes displayed in their full glory in an overwhelming succession. Certain pieces were emotional to see, bringing all those stories and years of research for my personal pleasure and interest as well as my professional one to life. Another impressive visit was the Kremlin Vault, where they exhibit the extraordinary Russian Crown Jewels and other jewels belonging to the Imperial Russian Treasury, or what is left of it. Endless tiaras, diadems and other pieces of jewelry, along with trays filled with diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and pearls. Most likely all belonging to the either the Crown or raided from the jewelry cabinets of the Russian Nobility when the Empire toppled. That was when the reality and the cruelty of the extermination of a single layer of society hit me. The other side of the story where people ran for their lives, leaving everything they had and knew behind them. It was immensely beautiful and at the same time immensely poignant. But regardless I left this place with a feeling of such inspiration and appreciation for all the artistic wealth that was provided by visiting it. It is still one of the best trips I have ever made and I hope a next trip to St Petersburg will be just a good.
Will my interest and fascination with Imperial Russia ever lessen? I highly doubt it, it comes and it goes like the tides of the sea. I tend to remember it more in times like these when all of us have more time to think and process our ideas, passions and interests. Do I feel nostalgic? Yes often, that's perhaps part of who I am. But it makes me incredibly happy to think about this world, about this time in history where, in my view such beauty in so many things and forms was created, passed down, perceived and lived in.
It's something I'll always remember, because things like these, memories like these will never really vanish. They live on, as long as we remember them.
Love,
F
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