Why Christmas Toys are Us

The yolka is the centerpiece of Russians’ Christmas and New Year’s celebrations. And the toys that decorate the yolka have an unusual power.

Every Russian associates his favorite holiday – New Year’s – with different things:  some with the omnipresent TV movie Ironia Sudby (The Irony of Fate), some with snow and frost or a hearty meal, some drivers with the dozing and unusually nonchalant traffic police. But, if you ask a Russian to go back in time to his favorite childhood memory, he will most likely name the trimming of the tree – a custom that came to Russia in the middle of the 19th century.

Alexandra Luchsheva, a lifelong Muscovite, born in 1910, recalled: “My brightest childhood impressions – and I remember from when I was about four – are connected with the yolka (fir tree). We children were always looking forward to Christmas and the New Year. We were watching the adults take the boxes with Christmas toys, decorations and candles off the shelves!”

“Then the secret rite would begin – the tree trimming – and the real world would disappear,” continued Luchsheva with a dazzled, somewhat absent-minded smile, as she plunged into her childhood reminiscences. “Enter the world of fairy tales, of sweet dreams with this presentiment of a miracle. It seemed to us that different animals would wake up from a fairy-tale dream and would sit in the Christmas tree branches – small wolves, foxes, hares and bears, little horses and zebras, and next to them, we could see perched herons, storks, swallows, owls. They were all made of compressed cotton and painted with their natural colors, while the loop on which the birds were hung was simply invisible. And then my parents would take different fish – perch, pikes, European carp, sheatfishes – out of the boxes made of double cardboard. One could see on the cardboard the fish head, the scales, the fins, and it was all so bright and fancy.”

The fish tails were made of transparent plastic, and the fish seemed to be swimming away from the branches to some unknown sea. The young kids would help the adults to hang the toys on lower branches, while the older ones, more adroit and agile, were even allowed to stand on a chair and hang toys on the upper branches – the ultimate excitement in tree trimming.

“But the biggest joy still lay ahead of us: the box with glass toys,” Luchsheva continued. “We were all stunned in mute admiration, looking at the multitude of multicolored sparkling balls and little balls, at the silver and golden figures, at the grapes which looked so natural on the coniferous tree. We were allowed to admire them and even touch the glass balls.”

But then, the adults would tell the children to leave, for they were supposed to see a fully trimmed tree only at the celebration itself (for Christmas and, after the Revolution, for the New Year). Such secrecy was understandable, for parents would wrap little surprises – nuts, tangerines, apples and chocolate sweets – in foil and hang them on the branches like decorations. And next to them, khlopushki (Christmas crackers, literally “swatters”) were hung. They were made of colored foil beneath which one could see white, lace-like paper which made the cracker look like white panties under a child’s dress. There was always some kind of surprise inside: paper carnival masks, little dolls, napkins, collars or carved figures.

Colored beads were also a must. They came in long threads that criss-crossed the tree at different levels. Little paper flags, also on long threads and sometimes featuring flags from all over the world, would also be present. The top of the tree would be decorated with a glass multicolored spire imitating the shape of a church onion dome or shining like the Star of Bethlehem. And from the top of the tree, silver or gold tinsel was hung.

Tree trimmers also put some cotton at the bottom of the tree to hide the wooden, cross-shaped stand and to create the illusion of a forest in a snowdrift. On top of the cotton, decorators would sprinkle some rock salt, so that it looked like sparkling snow. And only after that would Dyed Moroz (Grandpa Frost) and Snegorochka (the Snowmaid) begin their watch under the fir tree beside the children’s Christmas gifts. In the past, these two figures were made of papier-mache and were nicely colored.

When the New Year’s celebration began, candles were lit on the fir tree. There were no electric lights back then, so the candles were fixed on the branches with little metallic chandeliers.

“Today, as I am nearing my 90th birthday,” Luchsheva said, “I think: isn’t it because it reminds us of our ancestors that we still like trimming the Christmas tree? Because the Christmas toys remind us of our happy childhood with its undisclosed mysteries and secrets?”

But the Christmas tree is not just somebody’s childhood. It is also the childhood of humanity, a reminder of totem rites and the pagan traditions of pre-Christian Russia. The most amazing thing is that, after over a century and a half of trimming yolki, the ornaments have not changed much. True, today they are made of different materials, and the selection has improved. But they still reflect nature and the world around us.

These same themes still inspire toy maker Mikhail Sverdlik, director of a major, Moscow-based Christmas toy producer quite logically called Iney (hoarfrost). Sverdlik, who has headed Iney for 35 years, said: “Of course, the themes of toys have been widened, but not too much: now we have new animals or groups of animals – crocodiles, squirrels, Mishutka (diminutive for bear), Mishka with an accordion, pigs, geese and, of course, tigers (the Oriental symbol of the upcoming year 1998 – Ed.). We make them all of colored glass ...”

Iney features traditional toys like Snegovik (the snowman) and Baba-Yaga (the witch). Matryoshkas (nesting dolls) are also in demand, as are egg pendants, clowns, the Red Hat and Father Frost. They are all executed in a different color scheme, and for each toy, Iney offers from five to 30 different types of paintings.

But Iney’s most recent innovation is what Sverdlik called the “complex” toy. “In the past, we were forced to fulfil the socialist plans and produce simple, unsophisticated toys. Today, virtually every toy we produce deserves to be called a piece of art. Since we use mostly manual labor, all our workers can apply their creative flows. This is how we came up with multicolored balls in the style of Fedoskino boxes, Gzhel or Khokhloma. These are original winter landscapes and New Year’s scenes. We have dozens of different versions of each scene.”

Buyers also like the glass toy called “camomile,” featuring leaves, bindweed, snow flakes, snow storms – all in all 12 different types. Another Iney gem is the multicolored bell, of which there are 33 in total. But Sverdlik is especially proud of the yolka spires, “the best achievement of Iney’s glass blowers and designers, who let their fantasy play at will when creating these toys.” The technology of toy-making has also evolved. According to Sverdlik,“we use metallization and treatment with nitro paint.”

Iney’s production makes a difference for domestic consumers, whose pocketbooks don’t allow them to buy the imported Christmas ornaments that have flooded the market of late. A US-made glass spire costs R120,000 ($20), whereas Iney’s sell for between R11,000 and R18,000 ($2-$3).

For now, Iney mostly focuses its sales in Moscow and other Russian regions. Interestingly, the only export destination is the US. In Moscow, Iney has its own corporate store, and customers can also count on finding these toys in the famous Detsky Mir department store and the House of Toys (Dom Igrushki).

However, of late, in spite of its popularity with customers, Iney is having trouble keeping afloat in the troubled sea of a market economy and does not make much profit. “Iney is the collective property of its workers, we reorganized it as a closed joint-stock company,” said Sverdlik, who said he sees this as a positive change. “But the general tough economic situation can’t help having its impact on our business. We are forced to operate as a wholesale enterprise.”

As Iney manages to open more stores of its own in Moscow, like the one located at 3 Semyonovksy lane, not far from the Izmailovo district, the joint-stock company expects a larger profit margin.

“For now,” said Sverdlik, “we take our pride in the rapture in the eyes of both the kids and parents who keep buying our toys and the thank-you letters from domestic and US customers.”  RL

The toys produced by Iney will be available in 1998 from Flowers & Decorations, 3087 Brighton Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11235, ph. 718-934-2229.