Exhibitionism: Soviet Style

Moscow’s Exhibition of Economic Achievements (abbreviated VDNKh in Russian) was a showcase of everything the Soviet Union could be proud of, whether it really existed or not...

The utopian exhibition known as VDNKh was founded 65 years ago and initially called the Soviet Agricultural Exhibition. Nothing remains of the pavilions built in 1939 – most of them were temporary. But, judging by old photos, even the first exhibition was quite impressive. For instance, the Volga Pavilion consisted of a cascade (symbolizing the Volga), topped by a statue of legendary Civil War hero Vasily Chapayev, “on a rearing horse, with a raised sword.” During the reconstruction of the exhibition in 1954, many of the pavilions were recreated on their former sites. These buildings, which still stand today, roughly resemble their predecessors.

The post-war rebirth of the exhibition was grandiose indeed – Moscow was especially proud of the fact that the construction work needed, among other things, 50 million bricks, 37.5 tons of cement and seven million cubic feet of timber. The architecture of the complex was a perfection of kitsch, an inconceivable eclecticism in which the best achievements of high Renaissance were tossed into a single heap with the works of popular craftsmen. Still, even such kitsch was worthy of respect – from the lively gothic of the Uzbekistan pavilion to the glass cubes of “Building Materials.” (The transparent facing of the latter is reinforced with a skeleton of thin metal bars completely invisible from inside. Thus, it seems as if the building’s richly-decorated flat ceiling is genuinely suspended in mid-air.)

Yet the fairytale exhibition’s opening was doomed to be overshadowed by events. VDNKh threw open its newly renovated doors in 1956, just a few days before the groundbreaking 20th Communist Party Congress, which, in addition to denouncing Stalin’s personality cult, marked the beginning of the campaign against architectural excess. As a result, several pavilions were hastily concealed behind grim rational façades; flowery lintels in national-grotesque style still peep out to this day.

Many things were lost, including the wonderful “Beer” and “Vodka and Spirits” pavilions. A bit later, the fairytale “Ice Cream” pavilion disappeared. The remaining buildings declined and their magnificent interiors were divided up into shops. Nevertheless, the spirit of this bizarre and unique architectural hallucination still offers surprises. Seeing VDNKh in its entirety is said to require no less than five days. You can do the main sights in just one.

The exhibition covers 550 acres, exactly one ten-millionth of the territory of the Soviet Union. It begins with a magnificent triumphal arch at the main entrance, crowned by a sculpture of a tractor-driver and a female collective farm worker. “Strong and fine, they embody the constructive labor of the workers of Soviet agriculture,” says a Soviet-era guidebook. Directly opposite is the 320-ft Main Pavilion, the most immense and yet most drab of all the structures. It used to house an exhibition called, “The Triumph of Lenin’s Ideas”; now there are shops selling products of every imaginable (non-Leninist) industry, from Japanese electronics to fluffy elephants.

Behind the pavilion is the spacious Collective Farm Square, with its famous fountains, called Stone Flower and Friendship of Nations. The Flower fountain’s huge mirror is clad in iridescent mosaic tiles and surrounded by bronze still-lifes of wine and fruit, among which multi-colored carp once swam. The Friendship of Nations includes gold statues of women dancing in a ring, symbolizing the 15 union republics. The color and trajectory of the fountain’s 800-odd streams of water were almost infinitely changeable. But now the fountain has fallen into disrepair and will soon close for reconstruction. When you think of the unhappy fate of Vera Mukhina’s massive Worker and Peasant statue – which used to stand nearby but was taken to pieces and now can’t be put back together again – there is good reason to be worried that, once disassembled, the fountain will never be able to be reconstructed.

The pavilions surrounding the square were also devoted to the achievements of the republics. It is interesting to observe how their roles have changed. For example, the inoffensive Russian Soviet Republic pavilion first became “Atomic Energy” and now sells army ammunition. “Tobacco” became “Household Goods,” then a business center for the Saratov Region. “Ukraine” was “Agriculture” for a long time, but is now “Ukraine” again. “Armenia” was refurbished as “Health” and “Siberia” as “Armenia.” “Northern Caucasus” became “Education”, and is now “Georgia,” while “Estonia” became “Kyrgyzstan.” Yet, through all this shuffling, the national aesthetic of the re-designed pavilions remained: the interior of today’s “Armenia” is decorated solely with cognac advertisements.

The most significant pavilion is a titanium construction covering nearly 200,000 ft2, the focal point of the complex. In 1950, it was known as “Mechanization and Electrification of Agriculture.” Its entrance was graced by a column of tractors, while magnificent statues of a worker pulling levers and a female collective farm worker at the controls of a combine harvester stood on its corner towers. At the beginning of the space age, it was converted into “Space.” Today this monstrous construction is inhabited by traders of gardening goods – from chainsaws to seedlings. No industry or space, just gardening goods.

Architecturally, the huge pavilion reminds one of a church. The traders occupy the central nave of this former temple of space, while the main part, beneath the dome, has been left tactfully empty. Behind the gardening kiosks you can still see the dim residue of space-scapes and a portrait of Yuri Gagarin – it is mounted on the wall behind the “altar” and has been covered with a transparent cloth, rather than being cast down like a false idol.

On the square in front of the pavilion (at one time occupied by a titanium statue of Stalin), there is still an exact copy of Gagarin’s Vostok rocket – though admittedly the former excitement it once generated is nowhere to be found. Kids used to put wax on sticks and extract tourists’ small change from under the rocket. Whoever had the longest stick and the softest, stickiest wax would win. On a good day you could make five rubles.

Beside the rocket are two planes, one stripped out and boarded up, the other still open to visitors. Inside the second plane you can watch or buy documentaries about the history of Soviet and Russian aeronautics.

On the right, behind “Space,” is a compound formerly devoted to domestic animals, which used to be made up of 69 pavilions (including even an artificial insemination unit). Not surprisingly, it was always pervaded by a very specific, wholesome barnyard smell. Here you could see and smell the country’s best pigs and cows, or have a ride on a troika or a pony. Now the farming enclosures are empty.

“The last chicken was eaten three years ago,” an elderly cleaning lady says. But even just a few years ago, on the other side of No. 4 pond, there were enclosures with prize turkeys and ducks. You could hear the sound of domestic birds on one bank, and a menacing crowing noise on the other. Fierce cockerels, masterfully tamed by a one-eyed poultrywoman, lived in glass houses along the edge of the Michurin Garden. Now the only sound you hear is the croaking of frogs.

A must-see for tourists is the 360-degree panoramic cinema. This miracle of Soviet technology was built in 1959 and was a milestone in cinematography. The 20-minute documentaries shown here were filmed by 11 cameras fixed on a single stand, then shown on 11 screens simultaneously. The effect is powerful – it is as if you’re sitting in the body of a moving truck and turning your head in all four directions... or hanging from the bottom of a helicopter in flight... or, even more improbably, surrounded by a ring of dancing Kyrgyz maidens. The surround-film was so convincing that the sharp braking of the car in which the audience was “riding” would make everyone fall to the floor in unison. There are only five films extant, the most recent made in 1992. They are the travel films Bon Voyage and Take us with You, Tourists, a folklore film called An Inexhaustible Source, and two home-grown action films, not recommended for persons with weak stomachs.

If you walk past the cinema building and leave the exhibition grounds, you enter Ostankino park. In the exhibition itself, almost all the old fairground rides have long since been replaced with gaudy, modern rides. Although there are still a couple of genuine shooting ranges – with laughing bandits, squealing hares and a drunkard in bell-bottoms spilling his bottle – the cozy old merry-go-rounds have all been dispatched to the ash heap of history. At Ostankino Park, on the other hand, the past has been preserved. Here you can find wooden horses, pedal boats and bumper cars. An old wooden stage attracts the over-30 crowd for weekend dances. There used to be retro and ballroom dancing as well, but unfortunately they were stopped because of lack of demand. The pond, which was originally dug for the estate of the wealthy Sheremetyev family (their famous palace is about 300 yards away, behind the trees) is inhabited by ravenous ducks and some kind of fish.

The main attraction at the exhibition, however, was always food and drink. “People didn’t go there to stare at the exhibits, but to eat and drink, and the rest was just a bonus,” older residents say. The “bonuses” included not only demonstrations of the achievements of the economy, but also a great many accompanying attractions. For instance, in 1939 there was a “hammock alley,” a reading room, a parachute tower, a laughter room, stilts, a dance veranda, organized games and singing, and an “alley of riddles, brainteasers and charades.” There was also a separate children’s playground and a consultation point for the Union of Militant Atheists, an anti-religious body set up under Stalin. Nearby, anti-aircraft and chemical defense methods were demonstrated, and you could attend meetings with representatives of overseas revolutionary organizations, international friendship evenings and lifeguard demonstrations. You could learn to fence, dive with an aqualung and tie nautical knots.

Nowadays, you can expect to find a huge number of cafés and snack bars (there’s even a liquor store called “Let’s be friends!”). The best of the cultural attractions available, though, are the tasting rooms, which really liven up this utopian city. This is where mature men and women thoughtfully sample interesting drinks brought from all corners of this huge country. They’re a real gem and, more importantly, the only pavilions where – according to the old guidebooks – “all 15 republics have found a place to demonstrate the successes of these once backward, oppressed peoples.” The choice is wide and available to all, and an expert is on hand to explain the nuances of the samples to interested parties. Someone might say to her: “Your Cabernet tastes a little strange...” To which she will reply, “How dare you, sir! You’ve already tasted a few powerful bouquets too many!”

Towards evening, the exhibition descends into a kind of artificial stupor, as sweet-voiced karaoke singers go out onto the terraces of the many open cafes. Languid sounds ring up and down the avenues of the exhibition as mustachioed men cry into their beers.

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In the near future, it appears as if VDNKh (which is now officially called the All-Russian Exhibition Center – VVS) will be facing more big changes. Yet another new name has been promised – the International Exhibition Complex. And there was to be massive reconstruction – including the addition of nearly 2,700 ft2 of space – as part of a plan to sell Moscow as the site of EXPO-2010 International Festival. Even though Beijing got that nod, Moscow city authorities still intend to modernize the exhibition complex, to make it the most advanced exhibition space between Germany and Japan.

There have been some controversial proposals to build unrealized masterpieces of Russian constructivism, including Vladimir Tatlin’s “Monument to the Third International,” known as the Tatlin Tower, designed in 1920 but never built. Yet, one cannot but hope that, even as these unlikely plans are bandied about, VDNKh’s unique Stalin-era pavilions – 45 of which have already been declared architectural heritage sites – will be restored. For even the most radical modern building program will not surmount the heroic spirit of the old VDNKh.  RL