The Embassy of Finland seems to be one of the most open in Moscow, it was even awarded such a title. And now, celebrating the anniversary of their building, the embassy, with the help of the project "Moscow through the eyes of an engineer", conducted an excursion for historians and journalists, accompanied by a lecture by the avant-garde historian and Hermitage employee Ksenia Malich. The tour was led by Ayrat Bagautdinov.
The building in Kropotkinskiy lane consists of two parts, the first was built in 1938, occupying the territory of two estates allocated for this purpose by the Soviet government. The second is the left wing, designed by Tuomo Siitonen in the 1980s and completed in 1996. It expanded the embassy's capabilities: it now houses several saunas, a swimming pool, a dining room, a conference room and a double-height foyer facing the courtyard with a fireplace, one half of which faces the street and the other inside.
But, of course, we are talking about the first building. It
became the first Finnish embassy built in another country, and the first embassy building rebuilt (and not equipped in a requisitioned mansion) in Moscow. The building was solemnly opened on the Independence Day of Finland on December 6, 1938, there were more than 200 guests, many Soviet leaders, among them the red commander Budyonny and the director Sergei Eisenstein. And almost exactly a year later, they closed it, because the war with Finland began. Then they opened it again, and again for a year - between the Finnish and domestic, in which the war, in fact, continued. In other words, the building, a symbol of independence, was in some way at the forefront of the subsequent struggle for it. A book has been published about the building; its anniversary has already been celebrated at least once: when the embassy turned 75 years old. The building is important. And not only historically and symbolically, but also, curiously, in architectural terms too.
The construction was preceded by a competition held in 1935, 26 applications were submitted for it, Alvar Aalto, among others, participated, but did not even come close to the prize-winning place. Erik Lindström won, but at the same moment he got a more profitable order for the building of the telegraph in Helsinki, and the project that took second place - Hilding Eckelunda, was implemented.
The building is white and very simple: along the lane, with an "ambassadorial" indent from the fence, there is a four-story building with a canopy over the passage to the courtyard. A two-tier wing extends perpendicular to it on the right and into the interior of the site: here on the second floor there is a reception hall, relatively small, but one and a half dawn. On the left, there is an exit to the open terrace, which ends with the wing: here it is called the "steamer deck", modernist buildings are often compared to ships, and they tell the story of how Juho Kusti Paasikivi, the former Finnish ambassador during the short break between the "Winter" war and World War II, walked that terrace every day, and his wife Allie swam in the pool in the yard. A wide staircase leads down from the terrace, and the end of the wing turns out to be open and stepped.
The reception hall is located to the right of the aisle to the terrace, it ends with a glass wall, about a meter thick there is a winter garden, which serves as a kind of "green filter" when looking out: there is winter or autumn, but here a wall of plants looks like summer.
A row of round pillars, rather conditionally dividing the path to the terrace and the hall, is built at an angle - a baroque technique of enhanced perspective: when viewed from one side, the space narrows and we see each column, from the opposite side we do not see pillars at all and the perspective seems to be absent.
It is interesting that this Italian technique, tuned to enhance the dynamic, let's say, wow-effect, beloved by Bernini and Borromini, in this case is given very delicately: without knowing, you can not pay attention to it at all or not immediately, but wander inside and analyzing the sensations.
A promising technique has been turned into a nuance, and this is essential. Here, much is given in exactly this way, in a junciated manner, nothing catches the eye with a cry - here I am, beautiful - everything is very calm, but there are many nuances, and many of them, of course, belong to the plastic language of their time, the 1930s. For example, the entrance is framed inside by two semicircular protrusions, a kind of propylaea, similar to the ends of sliding doors that have gone into the walls, rather than columns. All balconies, absolutely in the spirit of functionalism, are built of metal grilles with fillets and corrugated metal plates. The whiteness is barely disturbed by the granite base, while the stone frames of the windows of the first tier, yellow wooden frames and a black, with an arched recess, visor over the passage arch.
The building is unclassical: its L-shaped plan is asymmetrical, an arch leading to the courtyard with a visor is shifted from the center to the right, the main entrance is located in the corner between the two buildings from the courtyard side and is not exactly accented. The proportions of the windows are rather horizontal, but note that the mass of the wall does not bother anyone here - it seems enough to “de-materialize” it with white. But - again a hint - the features of classical architecture are present: this is a round roller outline, not a window and not even quite a niche, but a drawing, and two small protrusions on the sides.
Three windows of vertical proportions to the right of the arch inside unite the first and second floors, and inside they open onto the main staircase: accentuating the staircase with windows, more often stained glass, was customary in eclecticism, Art Nouveau, Art Deco and equally modernism, so to determine the stylistic nature of the reception impossible, except that the vertical proportions of the two openings are "classic".
Why do we take so long to consider these few "classic" tricks? Here's why. In the early 1930s, the paths of architecture in Finland and Soviet Russia finally parted. Finland, in principle, almost did not participate (or did not participate at all) in the avant-garde movement of the 1920s, in that energetic surge of plastic protest and the search for something new, to which the Russian constructivists, functionalists and the German Bauhaus enthusiastically devoted themselves. In Finland, at that time, various types of rational modernity were relevant, smoothly turning into art deco (which this time Ksenia Malich spoke about in detail, with examples), but in the 1930s, art deco was replaced by international “white functionalism”. In Russia, as we know, in the 1930s, the so-called post-constructivism already reigns, former avant-garde artists, with varying degrees of despair, abandon delusions and look for acceptable versions of decorative art, and neoclassical masters rejoice and more and more actively study the Quattrocento and Cinquecento in search of an object. copying and inspiration.
So, the project of the embassy appeared in 1935: in Finland, "white functionalism", in Moscow, a course for the Stalinist classics. It is not surprising that the Soviet government - and we know how much we like to agree on and recommend everything - advised to make the façade more representative. And what do we see in the end? And practically nothing. Two or three sluggish concessions. This is akin to when you are asked to rewrite the entire text, and you - took, changed two words, brought - here; please, all comments are considered. The same feelings, one must think, are experienced by architects when they can afford it. This is what happiness, joy and a holiday. I understand Finland perfectly.
But we have to fight for happiness, and history proves to us that it won't be easy, although sometimes it works. The architecture of the embassy, this neutral, Finnish-style delicate and calm building turns out to be a kind of proclamation in its non-representativeness. An example of the ability to say your soft, but firm "no" to circumstances that, it would seem, are many times stronger than you. ***
The great Finn Alvar Aalto is not directly related to any of the Moscow buildings, and his things - vases and lamps, appeared at the embassy much later. But now from can be seen in the cupboards of the ceremonial hall.
