Russian Chicago

Chicago is a windy city, metaphorically and literally, which may be part of the reason it never sits still, is always changing, shifting, and transforming itself.

Chicago is “a city in motion,” says journalist Alex Kotlowitz.

The city’s neighborhoods are also constantly metamorphosing, changing their ethnic characteristics and real estate values, the way they look, smell, and sound.

This may be why, while there is a strong Russian community in Chicago, there is no Russian neighborhood proper; there are only bits and pieces here and there. Yet, if you know where to go and how to catch the right wind current, you can uncover a rich, parallel Russian world in this Midwestern American city.

Getting Here from There

Traditionally, Chicago is known for its vast Polish, rather than Russian, community. The city has the world’s largest Polish population after Warsaw, with over a million in the greater Chicago metropolitan area.

The biggest wave of Polish immigration to Chicago occurred after World War II, as a result of the communist takeover of Poland, and though many Russians fled the USSR for similar reasons, the two Slavic immigrant communities did not mix, despite similarities in their languages and a shared history.* Part of this could be attributed to religion: while the majority of Poles are Catholic, most Russians are Orthodox Christian or Jewish.

However, outside these two Slavic communities, Polish and Russian are often conflated as “Eastern European.” This is part of the reason why the Russian population in Chicago is not only hard to ascribe to a specific neighborhood, it is hard to quantify in other ways as well. According to Dr. Katarzyna Zechenter, US immigration authorities used “Russian” not just to classify Poles, but also Belorussians, Ukrainians, Jews, and even Germans. Due to such imprecise methods, exact historical statistics on Russian immigration are lacking.**

What is known is that, starting in the late nineteenth century, Chicago became the Midwest’s largest center of Russian Jewish immigration. The first wave of Jewish settlement in Chicago began in the 1860s, when a small number of Russian Jews put down roots in the south side. A second, larger wave arrived in the late 1880s to early 1900s, fleeing escalated persecutions. Garry, a successful store owner on Jewelers’ Row, remembers how his Ukrainian grandmother would cry out in her sleep from nightmares about a pogrom in her village. This second group coalesced in the area around Maxwell Street, eventually comprising 80 percent of the Chicago’s Jewish population.

Most non-Jewish Russians immigrating to Chicago in the beginning of the twentieth century made their homes in the Western regions of the city, around the streets of West Division, Wood, and Leavitt, earning the area the moniker, “Little Russia.” In the decades following the 1917 revolution, the population of “Little Russia” fluctuated: new immigrants arrived in flight from the Bolsheviks, while established immigrants left America to return to the “workers’ paradise” they thought Soviet Russia had become. Today the area has little to remind of its Russian past.

Later immigration waves occurred after the Second World War, and just before and during the collapse of the Soviet Union, in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s. The majority of these immigrants moved into neighborhoods in the northern part of Chicago and into the city’s suburbs, which remain densely populated by people of Russian heritage.

You can spot a Russian household in the Chicago suburbs by peeking into the backyard. In place of decorative shrubs you will often find large, healthy gooseberry, black currant, raspberry, or sea-buckthorn bushes. Even though American supermarkets now offer a variety of fancy preserves, the Russian soul craves homemade varenye (jam) made out of fruit from one’s dacha (or backyard, as the case may be).

When in Chicago...

The easiest way to get to know Russian Chicago is to look for places where local expats buy their food, communicate, drink, dance, and relax. These places give the Russian community a strong presence in the city and can pleasantly surprise a fan of Russian culture. And, of course, what better way to experience a culture than through its food?

It is worth noting, however, that when Russians say “Russian food,” they mean food that was cooked on the territory of the former Soviet Union, which embraced many different nationalities and traditions. Therefore, you can meet Russian-speaking people in Chicago restaurants that serve Uzbek, Tajik, Azerbaijani, Ukrainian, and Georgian food, as well as “proper” Russian dishes. Similarly, in restaurants serving delicacies from the former Soviet Union you will not only find dishes specific to the national cuisine of that nation, but also standard “Russian” food such as dumplings, buckwheat, and chopped salads.

One of the dining locations offering a traditional Russian menu, Russian Tea Time, is in the heart of Chicago’s downtown, a couple of blocks from the Art Institute, Chicago Symphony, and near the diamond stores of Jewelers’ Row. It is in fact a fine example of the unifying qualities of the Russian Soviet past. Although the restaurant carries the word “Russian” in its name, its owner is originally from Uzbekistan, and the dishes served here are based on Central Asian, Slavic, Jewish, and Caucasian cuisines.

The food here is good, yet the decor does hew to the Soviet Imperial style. Its dim dining area boasts a heavy décor: gigantic vases with flowers, and lots of gold and velvet. Indeed, the surroundings inspire self-indulgence, and you end up eating more than you should in order to be able to graciously leave the table. The same applies to drinking here: one should be careful not to be carried away by the variety of vodkas and heavy Georgian wines on offer. Thankfully, the prices – by no means low – are helpful toward keeping one’s eating and drinking in check.

If you are curious to try Kyrgyz cuisine, or happen to come to Chicago during winter, try Jibek Jolu, where you’ll be served hearty portions of dishes originating from Kyrgyzstan (formerly the Kyrghyz Soviet Socialist Republic). Most Kirgiz food is prepared with meat or potatoes and served with fresh vegetables and baked goods.

Another place that serves comfort food and is favored by the Russian population of Chicagoland is Chaihanna. It is located in the northwestern suburbs and offers shurpa and laghman – traditional Uzbek soups that are famous as hangover cures. Occasionally, you can stumble upon a large Uzbek or Russian family celebrating here, with kids running around, adults dancing to 1990s music, and generously flowing vodka. As a cross-cultural experience, it could well outrank an exhibition of Russian art.

Those craving traditional Russian deserts and sweets should stop in for a cup of tea and cake at Shokolad. Situated in Ukrainian Village, it does not remind of a “traditional” Russian restaurant, with matryoshki, golden candelabras, or velvet curtains. Instead, it looks for all intents and purposes like any modern coffee shop. Its Slavic origin is betrayed by the bilingual English and Ukrainian “BYOB” sign, the Russian names of some dishes on the menu, and of course the selection of real Russian pastries and tortes. This is the place to go for a piece of homemade smetannik, a generous chunk of sweet and crunchy Napoleon cake, or pastries filled with sweet condensed milk.

For those interested in Chicago-made Russian food, two local companies are worth a look (and their wares are available nationwide). First is Alef, which produces tasty, aromatic, spicy sausages based on traditional Ukrainian and Russian recipes (see Russian Life, Mar/Apr 2013). The sausages are predominantly sold in Eastern-European groceries, but can sometimes be found in the deli sections of large American supermarkets.

The second is Lifeway, a Chicago-based company with Russian roots. It produces mainly kefir, a traditional Russian/Caucasian drink made of fermented milk. Their kefir is available in an assortment of flavors (pumpkin spice, strawberry, chocolate truffle, and banana, among others), and can be found in most large grocery stores or supermarkets (see Russian Life July/Aug 2005).

Couch Street

A stretch of Devon Avenue, located in the northern part of Chicago in the area known as Rogers Park, was a predominantly Russian neighborhood from the 1970s to the 1990s, when a large Russian Jewish immigrant community moved in, supported by the Friends of Refugees of Eastern Europe, which was headquartered there. The name of the street, pronounced “diVAN” in Russian, (“sofa”) quickly made its way into immigrant folklore and anecdotes. Even a simple question about one’s location became a funny word play for those who spoke Russian (“Where are you?” – “I am on the sofa” (на диване). Numerous Russian grocery stores, restaurants, cafés, and shops sprouted up in the area.

But, over the past two decades, things have changed. Russians who initially settled in the Devon Avenue area saved their money and bought houses in suburban areas such as Skokie and Buffalo Grove. And as Russian immigrants moved out of the neighborhood, new immigrants from India and Pakistan moved in.

However, there are several spots on Devon that still remind of the Russian past: the Georgian bakery Argo, a Russian bookstore, a drug store that sells Russian medicines and creams, and a small health clinic. On a side street you can find the office of a lonely Russian notary, Raya, who keeps a stack of free Russian-language newspapers by the entrance to her office. In Argo, aside from baked Georgian bread and pastries, you can buy a large jar of red caviar for a good price, and in the grocery next door you can find Russian products such as spice cookies, salted herring, Russian sausage, and various Russian candies and chocolates, as well as the English tea Ahmad, which is ubiquitous in Russia.

The bookstore sells Russian books – both paper and audio versions; CD’s with Russian music; and various expensive souvenirs for Slavophiles or those who simply feel nostalgic. The used books section is the best, not merely as a good source for books, but also for anthropological reasons – it shows what kind of books people take with them when they leave their country forever, having very limited space in their suitcases stuffed with documents, valuables, and warm clothes. There are a lot of cookbooks here, along with mathematics textbooks and old Soviet novels in shabby, faux-leather bindings.

The Russian drugstore on Devon deserves special mention. Somehow the workers and the owners of the store have managed to reconstruct the atmosphere of a real Russian pharmacy, along with the noises (speech in Russian, discussions of what medicine to take if you have the flu, liver problems or back pain), the smells, the colors, the lights. For a moment, an émigré can forget she is in Chicago, and be cast back to Lenin Street in her home town, buying valerian drops from a moderately grouchy sales assistant. If you are fond of homeopathic treatments, you should definitely drop by, as there lots of medicines here based on herbs and berries. They also sell boxes filled with dry roots and leaves and flowers believed to have a medicinal effect.

Steam Rooms and Book Clubs

There are certain other spots in the city where one can interact socially with Russian Chicagoans, yet these are not obvious. You have to know your way around town to find them. One is the Korean King Sauna and Spa, which has become a Russian favorite and attracts flocks of both men and women, primarily on the weekends. This sauna reminds of a Russian banya, where you sit in hot steam and sweat. There is also a swimming pool and an array of massages you can get for an additional fee. For young Russian women, going to this sauna is a bonding experience; they come here to sweat together, discuss their boyfriends and love life, and get recharged for the working week.

Another sauna, The Red Square, has just opened, creating some tension and competition for the Korean spa by offering its own selection of massages and sweat lounges, to say nothing of a broad range of vodkas and a fancier ambiance. But its prices are much higher. Yet the sauna’s bar is worth a visit if only to drink some real Russian vodka while staring at the replica of the Kremlin wall behind the counter.

A more energetic way to spend your time in Chicago, Russian-style, is to go to a nightclub or a bar. There are certain places favored by the younger members of the Russian population. Martini Club, which is primarily a Polish hangout, is also a popular destination for younger Russian expats. It might lack sophistication and sport an un-ironic kitsch (disco balls are abundant, and the decor is exuberantly posh), but its regular parties, with Russian DJ’s, caviar, and sushi, are quite popular.

Partially due to the absence of a nuclear center for the Russian community in Chicago, and partially because of the overwhelming popularity of social networks in the immigrant community, many expat gatherings are organized online, through Facebook and Meetup groups, as well as in announcements in blogs, such as chicago-ru.livejournal.com.

These gatherings are held in different locations: bars, restaurants, and parks, and are attended mostly by a younger Russian generation: men and women who are relatively successful in their integration into American society, yet who still need to interact with their compatriots. One of the groups on Meetup.com (300+ members), named “Russian club,” describes its activities as “theater outings, picnics in local parks, watching sports games, and monthly book club meetings in a peaceful home environment.”

Culture

Russian art and culture are represented throughout Chicago. Yet, like the expats, it is not concentrated in any particular area, but is sprinkled throughout the city.

In downtown Chicago, on 10 South Dearborn, there is a permanent installation of panels decorated with colorful mosaics. This landmark, The Four Seasons was created by Mark Chagall, a renowned Russian-Jewish artist. Chagall’s presence in Chicago is significant: he created his famous America Windows as a gift for the city of Chicago (it is now in the collection of the Art Institute), dedicating the work to the city’s then Mayor Richard J. Daley. The artist’s final painting was a piece of art commissioned for the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago.

Less of a popular sight, but of no lesser significance, is the Holy Trinity Orthodox Cathedral, located in Ukrainian Village. It was designed by the American architect and father of the skyscraper Louis Sullivan, and partially financed by Tsar Nicholas II. The church does not look overwhelming or imposing, and, unlike Sullivan’s skyscrapers, it is rather low and minimalistic. Inspired by the unimposing onion-domed Russian churches once built in provinces and villages, it looks like it belongs more to a small town on the banks of the Volga than to this busy metropolis. Yet, once inside you feel as if you have stepped into a fairy tale. The ceilings are blue, painted with golden stars, and the space is decorated in traditional red and gold. Divine Liturgy is held on Sunday mornings, and visitors can call ahead to schedule a church tour for any convenient weekday.

Finally, when it comes to Chicago’s offerings in Russian culture, one must mention the famous Introduction to Russian Literature course taught at Northwestern University by celebrated professor Gary Saul Morson. Every fall over 600 students sign up for his class on Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky. His lectures on Russian literature resemble theatrical performances; Professor Morson so mesmerizes his audience of undergrads that they forget about their smartphones and hang on his every word. Even Russians, who tend to regard themselves as Russian literature’s sole proprietors and claim that Americans cannot understand the depth of the Russian soul, admit that Morson’s lectures are the best they ever attended.

Which just goes to show: when it comes to Chicago, you never know just where you will find an authentic remnant of the old country. RL

* Through various partitions and wars, vast swaths of Poland were the dominion of the Russian or Soviet empire for most of two centuries.

** In 1910, the combined Russian/Polish population in Illinois (some 149,000 souls) was the third largest foreign born population in the state. According to current (2010) census data, 16 percent of the Russian-born population in the US lives in Illinois (fourth highest after NY, CA and NJ).

Chicago’s fame as the corruption capital of the US gave Chicago a starring role in the Russian cult film Brother 2, directed by Alexei Balabanov. The plot revolves around the travels of the main hero, Danila Bagrov, from Moscow to Chicago in order to avenge the death of his friend, who was killed attempting to take on a Chicago businessman that was exploiting his brother (a professional hockey-player for the Chicago Blackhawks).

In their on-line diary, the film crew praised Chicago for its beautiful architecture, inexpensive apartment rentals (the crew rented an apartment downtown, with big windows facing the skyscrapers), and even compared it to Moscow for its severe climate and strong, cold winds.

The crew did not have run-ins with any local gangsters, but did manage to find some local Ukrainian immigrants who “looked like bandits,” and even used them in the movie. Many of Chicago’s architectural landmarks made the final cut, as did Ukrainian Village.