Of Crocodiles and Tchaikovsky

Crocodiles

Beginning with the town’s founding in 1760, for some 150 years Izhevsk was known as a large settlement for workers toiling at Izhevsky Zavod. Izhevsk had the largest population in the guberniya (province), larger than its capital of Vyatka (now Kirov), yet it was still officially classified as a small town. This may have left an imprint on modern psyches. Since the vast majority of its workers were summoned to the city’s ironworks and gun factory from nearby villages, their rural mentality is remarkably well-preserved.

Yet these workers also brought fame to our city, especially during major Russian wars, because they supplied our troops with vital weaponry. Back in the day, the best workers were awarded long green coats, kaftans, and top hats. This ensemble apparently inspired both envy and mockery, and the green-coated workers were nicknamed Crocodiles. In 2005, the city created a monument to the Izhevsk Crocodile.

Kulakova’s Skis

Izhevsk does not have as impressive a waterfront as, say, Pittsburgh, Baltimore, or Cleveland, but it can boast a man-made lake, the second largest in Europe. Izhevskians, however, call it a “pond” or, more derisively, a “puddle.”

From one bank of the pond rise the smokestacks of the armaments plant that gave birth to the city, and this view has all the appeal of any industrial skyline. Elsewhere, the waterfront is embellished with an elaborate park, with stairs and landscaping cascading down to an expansive esplanade, crowned by a monument meant to symbolize friendship between Russians and Udmurts, a relationship dating back to Ivan the Terrible’s conquest of Kazan.

The park was designed in typical Soviet socialist realist style, with severe, imposing lines. But locals have affectionately nicknamed the monument that towers over it “Kulakova’s Skis” (Лыжи Kулаковой), as the two columns obviously remind everyone of Galina Kulakova, a world ski champion and Izhevskian.

Ustinovshchina

In the Soviet period, many Russian cities were renamed to commemorate prominent revolutionaries and Communist leaders, but in the 1990s most won back their original names.

Izhevsk was renamed Ustinov in 1984, following the death of Dmitry Ustinov, a Soviet Minister of Defense. While Ustinov’s work as a People’s Commissar of Weaponry during the Great Patriotic War was remarkable, to many Izhevskians the connection between the man and the city was unclear. After all, he was born in Samara (already renamed Kuybyshev in 1935, what to do?), so, this being the dawn of glasnost, many Izhevskians boldly protested the renaming... by sporting “Izhevsk” lapel pins. Students were forced to remove them at school.

The situation became even more idiotic when they changed the name of our local hockey team from IzhStal (Izhevsk Steel) to Stal. Popular discontent grew, and in 1987 Izhevsk got its name back — at the forefront of a coming wave of renamings in the 1990s.

Dropshot City

For some macabre reason, Izhevskians feel that the fact that the city was one of about 100 on the “Dropshot” list of US nuclear targets in the event of nuclear war is something worth boasting about.* This is the sort of burden you are saddled with as a major industrial center in Russia.

It’s no wonder, therefore, that, during the Cold War, Izhevsk was a “closed” city. Only in 1987 were the first foreign visitors allowed in, though they weren’t real foreigners, just Bulgarians (as the popular Soviet joke had it, “Курица не летающая птица, Болгария не заграница” or “A chicken is not a flying bird, Bulgaria is not abroad”).

Actually, the first Americans soon arrived. They were the members of a group of inspectors working on a missile reduction program in neighboring Votkinsk.

Tchaikovsky

Surprisingly enough, few tourists know the birthplace of the famous composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (but many do know his main residence, in Klin). This is sad, because the Tchaikovsky family estate has been beautifully restored. The most interesting (and authentic) exhibit is the piano that little Petya once played. Guides always tell the story of how four-year-old Petya first heard Mozart’s music when his mother played it on the piano. As the dramatic description goes, after hearing the music, Petya ran upstairs in tears, crying because “the music was so beautiful.” The original of the composer’s birth certificate is also in the museum.

Yes, yes, a keen reader of history will note that the Tchaikovsky family estate is technically in Votkinsk, a town 10 miles from downtown Izhevsk, but that is just an insignificant minor detail.

Every April, a music festival is held in Izhevsk (not Votkinsk) to honor Tchaikovsky. And recently the affinity for electronic music among Izhevskians has led to the city becoming known as the unofficial capital of Russian electronic music.

Today, the fate of Izhevsk is that of many Russian cities: some industries are dying out, leaving crippling unemployment in their wake. Meanwhile, factories are being turned into shopping malls, signifying the shift from a decaying Soviet past to a glittering consumer future.

I love returning to Izhevsk and noticing changes — new apartment buildings and new developments like the Izhevsk circus, Mikhailovsky Cathedral (as ornate as St. Basil’s), and the Izhevsk Zoo. At the same time, Izhevsk remains fundamentally unchanged — it is the same old Russian provincial city it has been for centuries.

* Dropshot was a US Department of Defense plan made in 1949 and declassified in 1977.