Piskaryovskoye Memorial Cemetery

Katie Cook

Today was our first sight of rain in St. Petersburg. It was metaphoric in a way, we are always taught in school that rain brings about change, and in this case, I believe it brings a rebirth. The sweltering heat of days previous would not have been appropriate for the solemn scenery of the memorial. I like to think the sun represented the unbearable suffering that burned in St. Petersburg during the siege of Leningrad, but the rain, it brought a calmness and peace to the land. The sky was grey, but the grass was a fresh, lush green that starkly contrasted its surroundings. The dew gave a lovely sheen to the grass and trees — it felt as if it was an early morning sunrise, rather than the afternoon.

Over the course of WWII, no country suffered as much loss as the Soviet Union. They lost 11 million soldiers, and as least as many civilians, though these numbers range anywhere from 7 million civilian casualties to 20 million. The siege of Leningrad was the most brutal battle of the war, lasting nearly 900 days and claimed over a million civilian lives. With this in mind, the monument stands as a huge testament to the bravery and perseverance of not only Soviet soldiers, but people as well.

As you approach the memorial, the motherland welcomes you with open arms, as if she was asking you to pass over her children, to lay flowers and give thanks. This place was more than a place of remembrance, but one of self-reflection as well. I walked through the path of trees and felt an overwhelming sadness, but soon it gave way to such an overwhelming sense of happiness that I began to cry; in this moment I understood the phrase, “joy with tears.” I was happy because I felt such peace in this place. Everything was still, and I had the impression of a relieving sigh hanging overhead like a breath of fresh air and the beauty of spring. The air smelled sweet and the trees laced within each other creating the perfect path of solitude. Indeed, I thought anyone could be at peace here, simultaneously feeling connected to both one’s self and others that they had never even known. I had no conception of nationality or the decades that separated me from those buried here; simply that all humans are the same in that they understand the precious gift of life and the desire to hold on to it.

The only disturbance to the silence was the sound of birds. People strolled this way and that, but no one dared to speak, as if it was an insult to the memory of others. Though, what words could be said? In such grave contemplation, no words would do justice, only poetry seems profound enough, because it is like a song and only music can portray the indescribable and unspeakable. I thought of Anna Akhmatova’s poem about the war:

Nikto nam ne khotel pomoch’
Za to, chto my ostalis’ doma,
Za to, chto, gorod svoi liubia,
A ne krylatuiu svododu,
My sokhranili dlia sebia
Ego dvortsy, ogon’ i vodu.

(No one wanted to help us
Because we stayed home,
Because, loving our city
And not winged freedom,
We preserved for ourselves
Its palaces, its fire and water.)

These people had hopes and dreams all rooted within this city. They dared not abandon it because the thought that it could be taken away and destroyed in an instant was inconceivable. It is a truly humbling experience, realizing how easily it could have been you lying beneath this grass. You, or your mother, or your father, or your sisters, or your brothers, or your dearest friend. My chest was tight as I thought of the love I held for my family and how that was stripped away for so many lying right beneath my feet. Who am I to be able to walk here, to reap the benefits of their perseverance and strength? A strength I myself don’t think I could have kept in their same circumstance. To think one man’s selfish war could have destroyed the love of so many is despicable to say the least, but as I said before, what words can even be used to portray such deep feelings of sorrow and humility?

If you ever find yourself in St. Petersburg, I beg you take the trek to this memorial. Though it may seem a grim thought, you will realize the depth of emotion goes so much farther than that. It is more than a memory of people you didn’t know, but a reminder of how lucky we are to live such privileged lives. Truly, I am humbled and I hope one day I can stroll those peaceful paths again with the people I love.

Sources:

http://www.eisenhowerinstitute.org/about/living_history/wwii_soviet_experience.dot

https://www.history.com/topics/world-war-ii/siege-of-leningrad

The Peterhof Palace

Katie Cook

When we think about the extravagance of the Western monarchs of the past, our heads reflexively turn to that of France and England — to Versailles and the Buckingham Palace. These are grand gestures of wealth, but I dare say no one will try harder than a monarch wanting to be noticed. This was the case for many Russian empresses and emperors biding for recognition as a European power with similar values and lifestyles. Everyone has heard of Versailles and hail it as one of the most beautiful palaces in the world, but I argue that the Peterhof Palace is often overlooked. Both its gardens and interior parallel the great palaces in Versailles and Buckingham, but in addition to this, it also is home to the largest fountain park in the world. What’s more, these fountains operate without the use of pumps, making their operation much more efficient and cost-effective. Water is supplied from natural springs and collects in reservoirs in the Upper Gardens. The elevation difference creates the pressure that drives most of the fountains of the Lower Gardens, including the Grand Cascade.

The most famous ensemble of fountains, the Grand Cascade, which runs from the northern facade of the Grand Palace to the Marine Canal, comprises 64 different fountains, and over 200 bronze statues, and other decorations. At the center stands Rastrelli’s spectacular statue of Samson wrestling the jaws of a lion. The lion represents Sweden and is meant to commemorate Russia’s victory over Sweden in the Great Northern War. As you stroll through the park, you’ll find that there are many such references to Sweden, as it was considered one of Peter the Great’s crowning achievements.

In addition to the grand fountains of gold, there were many small “joke” fountains, as well. Apparently Peter was quite the prankster and would often leave his guests soaking wet through hidden fountains triggered by stepping stones or by workers operating the fountains in a hidden place. I think, my favorite fountain was the dog chasing a duck, but back when the fountain was created, the noises made by the duck and the dog were made just by a person sitting in the shadows, constantly just making dog and duck noises for the guests to get the full effect.

Of course, as amazing as the outdoor park is, the interior of the palace is equally fantastic. Truly, a place suitable for an emperor or empress. The unique qualities of each Russian ruler is clearly displayed in each room. Peter the Great began construction of the palace in 1705, but it was quite a modest spread for an emperor. It wasn’t until his daughter Elizabeth, as extravagant as she was, took power that the palace nearly tripled in size and became a true spectacle. All the rooms constructed by Elizabeth were made in the baroque style, which in layman’s terms means gaudy. Gold everything, with a touch of classicist paintings were the main qualities of each baroque room, and it was always breathtaking. Here’s an example of a typical ceiling within the palace:

Elizabeth had great influence over the palace’s finished product, but we can also see the romantic influences of Catherine the Great as well. Romanticism had similar aspects to baroque in the sense that it cherished the arts, but it is much softer and more delicate. It focused more on rooms decorated in pastels and ornate details, rather than showing off wealth in gold. My favorite room of the whole palace was the portrait room. Catherine II commissioned portraits of regular peasant girls and others, which line every part of the wall in the room. Also featured is a tour guide I accidentally took a candid picture of within the portrait hall.

I thought the personalities of each individual was perfectly captured within their portraits. They also were people we would have otherwise never known what they had looked like, as portraits were a luxury reserved for the rich and famous.

There was only one room that still remained that was decorated by Peter the Great and it looked more like a Captain’s office than a palace. Every part of the room, both the furniture and walls, were made completely of the same wood. It was almost laughable how easy it was to identify this room as his. A palace filled with gold and jewels, but instead Peter chose to be practical in his living situation.

Unfortunately, I feel like I cannot do the palace anymore justice just by simply describing it. It is hard to imagine a place like this once belonged to one family that freely roamed the halls millions of people are now hustled through as they take pictures of a museum. I think that is the greatest challenge with all places like this that are out of a different time. With how publicly marketed it is, the true significance is desensitized to the masses of tourists. We forget that this place was more than a palace, but also a home to some of the most globally influential players in history. This is where they raised their children and ran a country, where they held meetings and made world-altering decisions. However, I’ll end by saying that there is a reason Peterhof is one of the biggest tourist attractions in St. Petersburg, and it is something I think everyone should see, especially any Versailles supremacists!

Sources:

http://www.saint-petersburg.com/peterhof/fountains-peterhof/