This is a very painful exhibition for me.
Because for the last 15 years I have been writing about modern Moscow architecture.
And this exhibition is about her defeat.
And this defeat is not from Foster with Nouvel, not from Libeskind and Calatrava, but from the city itself.
It is doubly offensive, because no one won this battle - today there is neither old Moscow, nor new.
In a virtual sense, this is, of course, a victory for Moscow. And not even the one that "before the seventeenth year", but very recent - Soviet!
Indeed, back in the 80s it seemed that Moscow around us was a boring, gray, dull city.
But everything is learned by comparison.
In those days, only pre-revolutionary Moscow was a model for comparison. And then, of course, any picture from the “was / was” series hit backwards.
Ah, this picturesque bustle of narrow streets, trams, newspaper people, advertisements, domes, a cabman is standing, Alexander Sergeich is walking …
It is paradoxical that this very image was one of the driving forces behind Luzhkov's renovation. It seemed that we would return the Kazan Cathedral and the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, and there, you see, the Sukharev Tower with the Red Gate - and everything will be as nice and comfortable with us as it was before Soviet power.
And who would have thought that just 15 years later, those Soviet photographs would seem like views of a lost paradise?
I would like to explain all this not by someone's evil intrigues, but by elementary aberration. It is clear, however, that in youth the trees were big, and the “Tarhun” was sweet, and the vodka was 3.62 each.
But it doesn't work. And this is the merit of the exhibition. Which at first glance seems very similar to numerous exhibitions and books of recent years - about Moscow, which does not exist. But this is not just nostalgia. Here are visual comparisons, which also beat backhand.
Here was a view from Sretensky Hill to Trubnaya - but it was blocked by a new house. That was the view from the Ivanovskaya hill - but it was hidden by the attic of the restaurant.
And this is the worst thing. Not only architecture is leaving - relief, landscape, views are leaving. And architecture - of course, it gets old, wears out, cracks and crumbles. But what in return?
All right, the old left in an honest fight with the new. All right, something vanguard, bright, daring would appear in its place … After all, when you think that this constructivist masterpiece has grown in the 30s on the site of a demolished church, you can still understand. And here - faceless blurred flat walls, one Kadashevskaya embankment is worth something!
It would be convenient to think that the new good architecture is being made by intelligent and advanced people, and the old one is being broken down and remakes are being erected - completely different, evil scumbags.
And then you walk around the exhibition and see the same names …
This, of course, frustrates: when next to the monstrous "Voentorg" or the same creepy office at the beginning of the Arbat - and much more subtle and thoughtful objects nearby on Taganskaya Street or on the square of Belorussky Vokazal. It's still not the same thing.
Therefore, it is especially pleasant that, with all their fervor, the "Arkhnadzor people" take the trouble to figure it out and not lump everything together - for example, the exhibition does not show Svistunov's mansion in Gagarinsky Lane. The house of the Decembrist survived, but a new glass structure appeared behind it. So, from the point of view of changing the landscape, this is, of course, a loss, but it is clear that without the “new” and “old” they would not have done so well. And the "new" in this case is interesting. But this, alas, is rare.
On the other hand, it is somehow painfully clear that if you allow yourself to reflect and ponder, it will only get worse. For some reason, you remember how in the same Soviet times, in order to hack to death the publication of the next dissident, they called critics who analyzed it in terms of punctuation and spelling and said: no, well, this is not Turgenev.
So after this exhibition, I want to shout into a megaphone: move away, do not step on the strings, put on slippers quickly! And the main thing is not to touch it with your hands!
We are told all the time that the metropolis cannot but develop, that Moscow is the capital and it cannot turn into a museum. This is all true, it would be strange to argue. But there is a question - "how" to do it. Why is there no such thing in other European capitals - London, Paris, Vienna, Madrid? Why do they find an opportunity to develop without destroying what makes their charm and attractiveness?
The answer, alas, is disgustingly simple. It is not profitable. Reconstruction is expensive not even because it is a delicate and thorough work. And simply because without knocking down the old house, you cannot build a three-level parking lot under it, a two-level attic above it and a seven-story extension behind it.
And no matter what considerations of landscape-visual analysis all this is not covered up, and no matter how they explain to us about the economic feasibility, you see behind all this only a greedy mug. With whom it is absolutely pointless to discuss subtle matters, but you just have to say: go out.
And if there is anything consoling, it is the evil knowledge that all this is being built so badly that within 15 years it will look even worse than what was demolished. But this, of course, is little consolation.
