I'm lost. I got carried away with photographing a worker, hanging alone at a height of 15 meters and fearlessly drinking kefir. And my colleagues, led by the authors of the project, disappeared without a trace. I rushed about the floors of the former Ministry of the Interior - tiny low rooms, circular corridors, cramped staircases - and could not find a way out. And from each window there was a view of a gigantic suite: courtyards covered with a glass roof, across which lay a stone avenue platform. I felt like an absolute Akaki Akakievich - a little man living in a fragile world, next to which the inaccessible Nevsky was shining …
When I finally found colleagues, they didn't like my metaphor. They said that it was, of course, Gogol, just a different work. Namely, the article of 1831, in which he is angry at the modern Empire style (that is, just at the buildings of Carl Rossi), fondly recalls Gothic, and offers Asian architecture as an ideal. “If entire floors hang, if bold arches spill over, if whole masses instead of heavy columns end up on through cast-iron supports, if the house is hung from bottom to top with balconies … and will look through them, as through a transparent veil, when these, the beautiful tower, will fly with her to the sky - what lightness, what aesthetic airiness our houses will acquire then!"
In some places it really seems that Gogol is downright describing the project of the Yavein brothers. But here it should be noted that over the past 180 years, the attitude to the architecture of Carl Rossi has changed dramatically. To the extent that some St. Petersburg patriots believe the reconstruction of the General Staff building is a crime. (And what our "Arkhnadzor" will say is generally scary to imagine!) Formally, this is not at all the case: the outer perimeter of the building has not changed, the facades have been restored, and inside all the laws are observed: the new deviates from the old, emphasizing its separateness. But in fact, there is a sense of crime. The crimes of the audacious, passionate and unparalleled - which has not been seen in modern Russian architecture for a long time. But, as you know, "the rebellion cannot end in luck, otherwise it is called differently." And this is exactly the case - when the power of the gesture is so great that it is undoubted luck.
Translating Harington, Marshak alluded to the 1917 revolution. The Yavein brothers took the General Headquarters as unconditionally as the horse sailors once took the Winter. Yes, the interior of the complex was authentic and preserved the spirit of the 19th century. But in modern times, it decayed and weakened like the Romanov empire, 15 organizations dividing it began to sublease premises. In 1988, the executive committee of the Leningrad City Council handed over this wing to the Hermitage, part of the premises was restored and a year later the first exhibitions were opened in them. But Western consultants methodically persuaded the Hermitage to completely renovate the building and redesign it. Therefore, a strong move was needed that would turn the situation around, convince everyone - and which showed up in the project of the Yavein brothers, which won the 2002 competition.
The idea of the project is exclusively Petersburg, but rethought. It unites the firm courtyards-wells and the enfilade of St. Petersburg's "perspectives" - both street and palace. Nikita Yavein tried the idea of connecting the city and the courtyard 15 years ago in the Atrium shopping and office complex on Nevsky Prospekt. But there, due to lack of space, it turned out to be a little comical. Here Rossi himself helped - who conceived these courtyards as promisingly opening, like a street in theatrical scenery - fortunately, the configuration of the building is triangular. But the passages between the courtyards were built up. Now the platform laid through the courtyards has turned them into a completely new, never seen before space. Huge 12-meter wooden doors are built between the courtyards: when closed, they turn each hall into a separate exhibition space, opening (on special occasions) into a single suite. This transformability not only refers to the "mechanical amusements" of Peter in Peterhof (he liked everything to rise and turn), but symbolically unites two images of the city and removes the "problem of Akaki Akakievich."
The feeling of focus and magic continues in every new hall that connects the courtyards. There, the doors "turn" into walls, on which paintings will be on both sides - which will make it easy to change the exposition without interrupting the work of the museum. But at the same time, not only the exposition will change, but the space itself. There is something similar in the John Soane Museum in London - only the scale of the “magic box” there is much more modest, and changes only by 5 minutes. A prototype can also be found at the grand entrance staircase - for example, the staircase in Berlin's Pergamon Museum. But our splendor is much more powerful, even redundant. No wonder, Rem Koolhaas, whose project lost in the competition, dropped here his favorite word: “hierarchy”. Yes, this staircase does not dispose to sit and smoke after meeting with the beautiful, this is exactly what a solemn elevation to art. Democracy is the responsibility of the lower level of the building, which will become a kind of Forum - rich cafes, galleries, book and souvenir shops and other opportunities for communication. This space was conceived as completely open to the city and townspeople, although it seems that the security requirements will make annoying adjustments.
When Koolhaas lost to an unknown architect to anyone in the world, the usual words in such cases sounded: his own, they say, will bend where necessary, it is clear why they were chosen. The Yavains did not bend (although, of course, they are far from happy with everything), but more importantly, this project, in principle, took place - in contrast to the numerous cases of attracting Western stars who either left loudly or quietly surrendered. Paradoxically (usually the stars grab something from the sky) Koolhaas's project was much more modest and relied on economy. He proposed minimizing the invasion, using only two out of five courtyards, embedding neutral white boxes there, and making the main feature vertical links (escalators and elevator rooms) through which the collection would unfold in unexpected juxtapositions.
More than form, Koolhaas was concerned with the structure of information presentation. This approach did not cease to appeal to the director of the Hermitage, so he retained a considerable Dutchman as a consultant. And it is gratifying that some of his ideas remain alive - for example, the allocation of a separate hall to some contemporary artist for one piece, after which (after 100 years) the Hermitage will also become the owner of a luxurious collection of contemporary art. However, if the main part of the historical premises has already been allocated (for classicism, academicism, historicism, arts and crafts), then the fate of the new spaces is not yet obvious. Kabakov's “red carriage” will fit perfectly there,”said Mikhail Piotrovsky, director of the Hermitage, dreamily, but answered other questions evasively:“we'll see,”“discuss,”“come up with”.
The director completely rejected the parallel with the Turbine Hall of the new Tate, saying that it was rather an allusion to the Great Clearances of the Winter Palace. And so there is an idea to decorate the walls of the new halls with large-sized historical painting … I was cautiously horrified and said that we also have the Borodino panorama, but there was a reason why some attraction was created there - the painting is so-so. Piotrovsky was indignant in comparison: “So that's Roubaud! And we have Kotzebue! I had to shyly shut up, but timid doubts about the relevance of the quantitative growth of the exposition did not leave, especially aggravated at the fourth hour of wandering around the Hermitage. Koolhaas's idea that the museum should not borrow someone else's logic (the logic of, say, a shopping mall), but should take some sharper moves, itch like a splinter, like a nail in a boot, like Goethe's fantasy, like a knife that was stabbed to death by Kotzebue's father. By the way, Tyutchev wished the same death to Chicherin, comparing him with Vidok, as Pushkin once did with Bulgarin, concluding with the famous: “the trouble is that your novel is boring” …
This swarm of associations is exactly what makes our romance boring. This is what makes the juxtaposition of art and history beautiful in the Hermitage. And how the absence of modern structure, paradox, and customary neutrality is redeemed. All this will be in the General Staff Building. The suite is just a prologue. And then a fascinating procession begins through the most diverse spaces, where everything old is lovingly preserved, and the new only emphasizes its charm. The light gap in the floor materializes the axis of the Russian courtyards. Trees are the memory of Catherine's Hanging Gardens, from which the Hermitage began. Even the lofts above the vaults will be museumified, turning into “hilly ruins”. In addition, part of the premises will be preserved precisely as a story about the real existence of St. Petersburg in the 19th century.
But the main thing for which the public will go to the General Staff is still the Impressionists. Here, too, there are understandable fears: people, they say, are "accustomed" to the third floor of the Winter Palace, where Gauguin, Van Gogh, Matisse and a wonderful view of the evening Palace Square through the half-closed curtains. The square will not go anywhere: half of the halls with the Impressionists will be deployed on it, but in fact, initially these paintings were hanging in completely different places - in the collections of Shchukin and Morozov, and then also in the Moscow Museum of New Western Painting … But in none of the these places (including in the Winter Palace) they were not provided with ideal light - the upper one. And only here the Yavein architects took into account the dimness of the St. Petersburg sun and its movement over the building - and materialized all this in spectacular concrete pyramid lanterns that selectively reflect, refract and scatter light. They are different in each room (depending on the position of the room), but everywhere they are beautiful. So much so that it even seemed to Grigory Revzin that they could interrupt the impression of the "impression" masters.
But no impression will be interrupted by the translucent overlap of the courtyards. It frankly failed, although the project was extremely interesting: thanks to the glass beams, the roof became weightless. This, of course, turned out to be expensive, difficult, impossible, which experienced architects could not help but guess, but who would forbid dreaming and hoping for the best every time? In reality, everything has become rougher and harsher, but paradoxically, this disavows Koolhaas's main reproach - that glass roofs have become a bad commonplace. Here she will not attract attention to herself, she will remain simply - light. Yes, Gogol in his text dreamed rather of lightness, while the Yaveins were on the side of Russia - but which of them is more valuable than history? Considering that modern Moscow architecture has followed the path outlined by Gogol - with all its bold arches, round towers and other exotic "veil".
Rather, this project is consonant with those rare examples of modern Russian architecture, in which the power of gesture overcomes the eternal poor quality of embodiment and inaccuracy of details. But if they usually irrevocably compromise the plan, then the plan survived. And this breakthrough is very important. For the last 20 years, Russian architecture has been chronically failing. It's hard to name a really cool project in Moscow. In St. Petersburg, many times they tried to make a miracle, attracting stars - Foster, Perrault, Moss, Kurokawa - also failed. And then it worked. And it’s not a bank, but a museum. Moreover, in the very center of the city. Moreover, in a situation of the most acute discussion about the preservation of heritage. And the stars are not visiting, but their own. Miracle, pure miracle.
