Lunch with Monika

"I'm nostalgic about conversations I had yesterday."

2012-01-28T19:39:00.000-05:00

When I was younger, in middle school and early in high school, I was intent on pursuing a career in acting, whether in film or on stage. This passion led to a love of film and theater, and films were incredibly more accessible than theater, which is why every year I tried to catch every Oscar nominee. Since then, I've obviously strayed from that calling, yet the profound affect that films can have on me remains.

Oddly enough, my favorite films of the past few years have been thematically related, but not to my own life. The top three at the moment at "The Darjeeling Limited" (Wes Anderson 2007), "The Brothers Bloom" (Rian Johnson 2008) and "Kicking and Screaming" (Noah Baumbach 1995). I will not bore you with synopses of the films, but will tell you that the common themes are brotherhood and accepting adulthood. Additionally, the three directors are somewhat related and have been involved in each other's projects, which can almost be inferred from the films' styles.

"Kicking and Screaming" was a film that I first saw the summer after my freshman year of college, at a time when I had trouble connecting to the characters. Upon returning it to the library I, for all intents and purposes, forgot about it. The film follows four immature yet close friends in the first semester following their graduation from college. Although there is no evident rising and falling action in the film, the characters change in earnest during this variable period of their lives.

The DVD jacket. If you know me, you might imagine why I picked it up off the shelf in the first place.

This was not something I realized the first time I watched the film. However, during the past two weeks, I've watched the film twice, struck by the profound similarity of the characters' lives to my own life right now. The film presented me, a recent college graduate, with a glimpse of post-college life in the mid-nineties, and the way these friends relied on each other, while dealing with their own individual struggles. While strangely similar to my own life, the differences, such as the fact that the characters were mostly immature men (brotherhood for the win!), and in the "historic" milieu of the 1990s, separated me enough to not scare me to death.

My appreciation for the film finds its roots in my recognition that my life is simultaneously very similar and very different from these peoples'. The reason for that is the obvious, age-old fact that the transition to the real world is not an easy one, and that the main support system for this transition comes not from my own ability to do things, but my ability to trust and rely on others, while moving forward and knowing what I want.

Grover and Jane. They are adorable.

I guess I can say that this film is, in fact, thematically related to my life, just not because of the brotherhood aspect. Revisiting this film was a great decision on my part, and I hope that I can take some of its guidance to heart, as I continue moving in the general direction of the real world.

winter words (what is my life?)

2012-01-28T19:01:00.002-05:00

I'm itching to tell you all something interesting about my life, but, although I feel that plenty interesting is happening, none of it takes the form of a blog post or written word. Instead, I wordle-fied an e-mail that I sent, summarizing my life for a friend, yesterday. It's a bit overwhelming, but such is my life right now.

Story in the Second Person

2012-01-23T22:48:00.003-05:00

Driving home the other night I decided to write a short story in the second person. It turned out much shorter than planned, yet it still captures the concept of the story I was trying to write. Creative writing takes time, and now that I have time, I just need to do it!

You are, at this moment, beginning to write the story that you meant to write months ago. Rather, it is the story that you've been writing in your head every minute of every day for months, or even years. You are sitting in that charming cafe, at which works the cute barista, and are seated in a large chair that looks more comfortable than it actually is. Your laptop is open, you have a medium dirty chai on the table, and you are ready to write. You begin

writing a story that you've been meaning to write for months. Alas, the words of the story are unclear, mostly because you have neglected to plan sufficiently for the story at hand. You wonder if the story was meant to be a short story, or a novel. Maybe it was meant to be a poem, or just an article. You realize that if it is too short, it would probably be worth only a blog post. A short blog post on a blog that you have been writing on fairly religiously for nearly three years, yet only a select few people take the time to read. Yet, even if the story was meant to be only a short story, the story is what you have been writing

for months. When you begin to write the story, you imagine yourself as the main character. Conflict emerges before your character-version of yourself even appears on the page. You are forced to ask the question, is this character me? Or is it the ideal version of me? Or is it the version of me who I hope not to become? I have always been told to write what I know, but is it best to write what I know I am or what I know I do or do not want to be? If I write an auto-biography, it is what I know, but who will want to read about me, and my dull life? The auto-biography will be about what I imagine people think of me, rather than actually about me. At this moment, you realize that your autobiography would consist of the story of you sitting in the charming cafe with the cute barista.

The ideal version of you would stand, approach the barista, and say something witty and attractive. You would flash a smile and his heart would melt. As you order your dirty chai, he would smile in spite of himself, and make some witty crack about how none of the cute girls normally order such an intense drink, most of them don't know what it is. When he asks what milk you prefer, he admires that you don't answer skim, rather, two percent. Taste is everything. The story about the ideal you writes itself. It is the story of you doing everything that you are too afraid to do, in a fantasy world that is remarkably similar to a host of your favorite films. The ideal you would saunter back to your comfy chair in the charming cafe, as the cute barista looks on, and you would sit down to write the most brilliant short story ever, inspired by the barista's admiration, and the zest of the dirty chai.

Yet that story is not written of what you know, but rather what you wish were true. Sitting in the less-than-comfortable chair, you watch as the cute barista fails to smile at any of the customers; which you imagine is because he is working at a cafe for just over minimum wage. You turn back to your laptop and your dirty chai with skim milk, and begin to write another short story, that ultimately becomes just another blog post.

Doctor Zhivago

2012-01-21T20:59:00.003-05:00

After a long journey of reading this book, I have finally finished it. While I let it settle in my soul, but before I put it back on the shelf, I wanted to share my three favorite quotations.

"I don't like purely philosophical works. I think a little philosophy should be added to life and art by way of seasoning, but to make it one's specialty seems to me as strange as eating nothing but horseradish."

"You must never, under any circumstances, despair. To hope and to act, these are our duties in misfortune. To do nothing and to despair is to neglect our duty."

"You and I are like Adam and Eve, the first two people on earth who at the beginning of the world had nothing to cover themselves with - and now at the end of it we are just as naked and homeless. And you and I are the last remembrance of all that immeasurable greatness which has been created in the world in all the thousands of years between them and us, and it is in memory of all those vanished marvels that we live and love and weep and cling to one another."

Thank you, Boris Pasternak.

2011 In Review

2012-01-17T12:51:00.002-05:00

This is a project I've been working on for the past week or so. It's just a smattering of awesome things from 2011 to review the amazing things that the year contained for me. Click to enjoy a legible size.

Here's to 2012!

What's wrong with sweater-vests?

2012-01-13T13:14:00.000-05:00

I have made it no secret that any boy in a sweater vest can easily win my heart. This is something that has been a part of me for the past few years, and I have even made a statement of it in my facebook profile at various times. So, of course, I'm more than a little bit offended to see this blog post regarding Rick Santorum and his signature styles.

I'm not saying that I'm in favor of this Republican candidate. His conservative politics are a bit over-the-top, although, as a Catholic, I understand where he's coming from. Regardless, just because you think he's crazy, doesn't mean his fashion sense is!

Look at this man. Look at his sweater-vest. What is wrong with it? Nothing!

Respect the sweater-vest!

Long live the sweater-vest!

Monika & Julie & Julia

2012-01-12T11:52:00.000-05:00

It's that time of year. Massachusetts is a sad, cold, place to be, I can't justify reading in bed all day, and my mother has flown the coop to spend the week in Florida with her parents (how dare she!) leaving me to fend for myself and take on her role to care for my Dad and Tommassio. It's that time of year, when my maternal instincts start kicking in, and I use a cookbook to channel those instincts into something delicious and productive. Last year, one snowy day, it was my first batch of homemade cepelinai, which turned out, unfortunately, gray, but edible and remarkably delicious. This year, I've decided to go with some more "haute cuisine."

Which brings us back to Christmas. This year, I really didn't want much; a car, an apartment, a job, and world peace. Unfortunately, Santa's had a tough year, and couldn't provide. What I did get, was a pair of boots, a nice pink fleece jacket, the complete first season of Burn Notice (the show about us... that's for another blog post) and Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Ever since my mom saw the film "Julie and Julia" about two years ago, she has raved about how similar I am to the protagonist, Julie, who blogs about cooking through Julia's book over the course of a year. I think it's because we're both bloggers and, of course, my stunning good looks rival those of Amy Adams, while my sense of humor will only ripen with age to the caliber of Meryl Streep's. We watched the film together last year over winter break, and she persists to tell me that my blogging skills could also earn me a book or movie deal.

So, the book was one place to start. Not that I will get a book or movie deal from cooking through the same cookbook, since it's, obviously, already been done. Regardless, as I mentioned, my maternal-instinct kicks in mid-winter, so it's provided me with enough inspiration and amusement to weather some of the worst-weather days.

Today is one of those days.

I woke up to the tap-tapping of sleet hitting the window at the head of my bed. Snuggling under my covers, 9.30 AM yoga was not calling my name, but the cookbook and the pie crust in the freezer were. I walked down the stairs, and the first thing I did, after pouring myself a cup of coffee, was blanch the bag of spinach that was in the fridge. At this point, my plans of staying in my pajamas and cooking all day were foiled, when I realized that I didn't have half the ingredients I needed. So I dressed and drove to the grocery store to purchase the things that remained. An hour after my return, the result was a beautiful and delicious quiche aux epinards (spinach quiche)!

Plans for tonight's dinner are already in the works - Carbonnades a la Flamande (beef and onions braised in beer). I feel gratified, because my French language skills and maternal instincts have synthesized in the perfect past time for unemployed recent college graduates! Channeling Julia Child has never been so much fun. Bon Appétit!

How to use google translate intelligently

2012-01-08T20:47:00.000-05:00

Google. One of the most powerful and wealthy search engines and internet empires in the world. In recent years, especially, as the empire expands to such a global level, it has become a crucial resource for communication, resource, and young linguists, struggling with first and second year French and Spanish classes.

I hope here to give some guidelines and helpful hints in regard to using google translate and other online translation tools; not to teach young children how to cheat or write fake french essays. I think that it is important that all people learn at least one language beyond their native tongue. However, there are times when a single phrase will suffice, and it is important that that phrase be used appropriately and correctly.

Without further ado, I present five tips on using google translate intelligently:

1. Know what you're trying to say in English. This may seem like a no-brainer. Of course, you're writing something, and you should know how to convey it. But sometimes, we get caught up in our mind-language, and throwing incomplete mind-sentences into google will give us some interesting translations.

2. Be aware of colloquialisms. This is really more of a continuation of #1 than anything else. Most languages are cluttered with colloquial phrases and idioms that we forget to think about, and google translate is inclined to take literally.

3. Boil down the phrase to the most basic form. Think of how it might be phrased so as to best be understood. Expand contractions and use basic word order if possible. Take out unnecessary words and, if necessary, translate them separately.

4. Have some grasp of the grammar of your translated language. There is most likely a reason that you need to translate that phrase to the language you're translating to. Part of that reason should be that you are learning the language, or have some grasp of it from listening to it. Don't take google's translation for law. (This is the part where I give you even better advice) Look up the wikipedia article on your language's grammar. Check if the word order is important. See if they implement articles or decline pronouns. Make sure adjectives agree with nouns if they need to. Do your research, and it will most likely pay off.

5. If the phrase is something that is used regularly, copy the translation into a google search. If it seems like the phrase is used regularly in real life or on websites from the host country, it's more likely that the phrase is correct.

6. Learn the language! It doesn't hurt to learn something new. Languages can be difficult to learn, but the learning process is valuable, and I hear that knowing languages is good proof of analytical skills.

I hope this short tutorial will give you, dear readers, some help when you next want to write something in another language, translate a message, or reinforce your lingual skills. I find online translators to be very valuable, as long as they are used responsibly. Maybe these six tips will help!

Mylimajai

2012-01-04T13:05:00.000-05:00

Aš bijau pasakyt, kaip tave aš myliu,

Aš bijau prasitart ir išreikšt negaliu,

Nes vėjelis išgirs, laimės man pavydės

Ir pasauliui garsins jausmus mano širdies!

Aš bijau pasakyt, kaip tave aš myliu,

Aš bijau prasitart ir išreikšt negaliu,

Nes aukštybėj dangaus, rodos, žvaigždės pajuos,

Ir tamsioji naktis ilgus amžius skrajos!..

Aš bijau pasakyt, kaip tave aš myliu,

Aš bijau prasitart ir išreikšt negaliu,

Nes jautrioji širdis man krūtinėj sustos,

Trūks pusiau iš kančių ir tos laimės didžios.

A few years ago, when I was a camper at Neringa, this was a poem that my cabin read for poetry night at least two years in a row. It was very romantic of us, as our young teenage selves believed that we were falling in love with our fellow campers, and some of the counselors. Yes, we were a bit ridiculous. The poem, "Beloved," essentially voices the concerns of one who is afraid to tell their beloved that they are in love.

In recent years, since I was living in Vilnius, I have been trying to rediscover this poem, and it took me until only recently to find out any information about it, which I will share here. The poem is by a poet named Ksaveras Sakalauskas-Vanagelis, and, I was shocked to find out, is essentially a translation of an 1886 Russian poem by Николай Максимович Минский

Я боюсь рассказать, как тебя я люблю.

Я боюсь, что, подслушавши повесть мою,

Легкий ветер в кустах бдруг, в веселии пьяном,

Полетит над землей ураганом...

Я боюсь рассказать, как тебя я люблю.

Я боюсь, что, подслушавши повесть мою,

Звезды станут недвижно средь темного свода,

И висеть будет ночь без исхода...

Я боюсь рассказать, как тебя я люблю.

Я боюсь, что, подслушавши повесть мою,

Мое сердце безумья любви ужаснется

И от счастья и муки порвется...

Although the translation isn't necessarily direct, the meter and repetition of the first two lines in each stanza is remarkably similar, and beautiful in each language. Unfortunately, although I'm fascinated by this connection, I do not wish to become a scholar of Lithuanian and Russian poetry and literature, so I will leave these poems for you to read in whatever way you like.

The IgNobel Prize

2012-01-03T13:03:00.000-05:00

Back when I was in undergrad (re: while writing research papers, until about a month ago) I did a lot of research about Lithuania, which often came to some ridiculous discoveries. One of these is the IgNobel Prize that is awarded by the Journal for Improbable Research, a journal associated with MIT.

I first heard about the prize while living in Lietuva, when visiting Grutas Park for the first time. The park's founder, Viliumas Malinauskas, was awarded the IgNobel Peace Prize for the park's absurd theme in 2001, when the park first opened. This year, for a course called Public Space: Monuments and Memory, I wrote a research paper, arguing the idea that the park, which displays the retired Soviet statuary that had previously been on display in public spaces around Lithuania. (e-mail me if you would like to read the paper, entitled "A-museum-ment Park: Grutas Park and the Fate of Soviet Statuary in Lithuania")

I found the award oddly fitting, though, because the work of the journal is to draw attention to research that makes you laugh and then think. Certainly this park is a good example of such a statement.

Lithuania, I was pleased to find out, was this year awarded its second IgNobel Prize, again for the Peace category. The mayor of Vilnius, Arturas Zuokas, went viral on youtube for running over a fancy car in a tank earlier this year. His innovative strategy for fighting illegal parking and promoting bicycle-riding was commended with this peace prize, despite the destruction it caused.

I was excited to hear this news, mostly because I had heard about this tank-riding scheme two months before it made it to youtube. Since the video was published the day before my birthday, it was like Zuokas had practically given me a birthday gift. The award made the victory against illegally parked cars even sweeter. I hope that Lithuania will continue to do more attention-grabbing, ironically-peace-driven actions in the future, especially if it pays off with peace prizes.

Happy New Year!

2012-01-02T21:06:00.002-05:00

I am aware that it has been a while since I last posted a true blue post about the things that are happening in this world. I have been occupying my post-undergrad holiday season with celebrations, friends, and thoughts about the future.

Look forward to new posts in the coming days about some Lithuanian poetry, an honorable award, a short tutorial on how to use google translate effectively, 2011 in review, and some thoughts about life as a college graduate.

2011 was a phenomenal year. I propose a toast that 2012 be just as, if not more, spectacular, and that it brings all of us heath, happiness, and the stamina to resolve to change our lives for the better.

Me, experiencing the epitome of happiness, on December 11th at my winter graduation reception.

Happy Boxing Day!

2011-12-26T15:52:00.001-05:00

To all my readers, though you may be few:

Merry Christmas.

2011 has been a phenomenal year thus far. Let's end it with a bang!

All the best!

Why I am so "liked."

2011-12-14T16:25:00.001-05:00

This past Monday, I delivered my final presentation, thus completing the last of my coursework, as an undergraduate. It was a fairly short and exciting journey, and I'm excited to be continuing on to bigger and better things. We'll see if all pans out according to plan. However, as they told me on Saturday at the Winter Graduates' reception, "Experience is what we call our mistakes." So we'll see what sort of experience I can gain in the coming months.

Apparently, everybody is also excited for me, or at least excited to see me go, judging by the fact that my facebook status on Monday evening earned 143 "likes." That's about 10% of my facebook friends. Goodness knows that facebook "likes" should not be a measure of accomplishment, but it made earning that bachelor's degree just a little bit more sweet.

Real life, here I come.

#Occupy Swem #Satire

2011-12-12T00:02:00.000-05:00

William and Mary students have been criticized over the course of the past week for being overly zealous regarding the storming of Earl Gregg Swem library as the doors opened last Sunday as Swem's open-24-hours for exams period began. I, on the other hand, find it undoubtedly necessary that students should need to sit at the exact table in the exact room that brings them the most studious stability during this treacherous time in our lives.

After all, exams are some of the most trying experiences of our lives. Those three hour periods of sitting and writing or doing problem sets or recalling from memory trivial information can be some of the most urgent hours of our lives. When they add up to as much as thirty percent, nay, forty percent of your grade, getting an A is vital to maintaining the upper-range GPAs that we were accustomed to achieving in high school. And that disregards the fact that William and Mary has been suffering from serious grade inflation in recent years.

The fact is, desperate times call for desperate measures, and the atmosphere of Swem gives the perfect mix of stress and confidence, cocktail of competition and commiseration, that standing outside the single set of sliding doors of the monolithic establishment, waiting for them to motion-activate open at 1:00 PM is without a doubt the only way to calm the nerves of students preparing for finals.

I regret to admit that I was not one of the obscene number of students waiting in that crowd for the doors to open on that bright Sunday. Nor did I join them for more than twenty minutes at a time during my exam period. Only twice did I enter through those doors, to join the ranks of students in the library; to print out a paper and to partake in the phenomenal free massage chairs that a generous alumnus of the College has lent us for the exam period. Despite my lack of participation, I salute the students who would fight for their God-given right to the table of their choice, their right to brush their teeth and sleep, and their right to live a fulfilled life in the environment that Earl Gregg Swem offers us during this finals season.

Christmas Carols

2011-12-07T10:56:00.001-05:00

One of my favorite songs for the Christmas season is O Come O Come Emmanuel, which we sing each year at CCM's Gaudete Mass. This year, once we practiced the song on Tuesday, we decided to take it on the road, and we visited three of CCM's full-time staff members.

Our second stop was one of the most beautiful adventures I had had in a long time, and I was particularly glad it was taking place during this exam week. We spent about forty-five minutes trying to get into the gated community of our development officer, and when we finally arrived at her house, we were afraid that we may have gotten there just a bit too late, thinking of her daughter, who is in the sixth grade. After such a journey, though, we were not about to give up that song.

The ten of us crept up the front steps and I rang the doorbell. We counted off and began singing as the family came to the door, in a bit of a who-could-possibly-be-ringing-our-door-bell-at-9:00PM?-panic. Instead of some emergency, however, they found us, ten smiling faces singing...

"O come O come emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel..."

Two versus later, there were tears and there were hugs, and I had never felt so much Christmas spirit. I was standing on the front step of the home of a beautiful family, who devoted so much of their lives to the community, singing with nine of my closest friends, both new and old, and quickly nearing the end of my college career.

I'm leaving this school, almost as if to test the waters for my friends who will be graduating several months from now. Feeling the joy that I have felt over the course of this week has been a blessing, and I need to remember these moments, so that I don't lose faith in my future or in all the things I have gained here at William and Mary. Despite the crazed nature of the exam season, it is a beautiful time of year.

Bigger Things

2011-12-07T10:45:00.001-05:00

This week is exam week, so I've been the busiest bee, trying to get all of my assignments done by Monday, so I can enjoy the sweet freedom of real life before I leave the safety of my college campus on Thursday.

Something I've been doing to keep sane in this somewhat frightening time is upholding the tradition of and accepting the gym and mass challenge, wherein Sarah and I make an effort to work out and go to mass every day during the exam and reading period. This is particularly interesting this year, when it is my last chance to complete it, and it is coming at such an important liturgical season in the Church.

Just last week, the new mass translation was used liturgically for the first time, on the first Sunday of Advent. All of those phrases that I had memorized from the mass are suddenly gone, and instead there is a mumbling crowd that says something like, "and also with you spirit," whenever the Priest says, "The Lord be with you."

Reflecting on life and faith during that half hour every day has been really meaningful for me, especially with regard to the new translation. When my mind wanders away from the page in front of me, I find myself saying "and..." thinking "also with you," pausing, and with that delay, finishing the phrase, "with your spirit." It's a process, but it is something that I know I will accomplish with time and integrate to my life.

As the English-speaking Catholic Church is making this big transition it gives me comfort in the changing of my own life. The liturgy of the Catholic Church has been unchanging for years, yet, quite suddenly, this new dialogue is thrust upon us, and we are forced to think twice about what we say every time we go to mass, regardless of whether or not we have the words by heart. To see the massive institution of the Church change in such a momentous way makes me feel that this transition in my life, to the "real world," is not actually so big and that I am totally capable of succeeding.

Happy Advent, all!

Introducing...

2011-11-30T21:46:00.001-05:00

Last night we premiered our films from St. Petersburg.

For your viewing pleasure, I present,

"collective apARTment: The Pushkinskaya-10 Legacy of Unofficial Art."

In the age of its technical reproducibility...

2011-11-29T15:24:00.000-05:00

I had a conversation with Professor Spike several weeks ago regarding some reading that I had done for my philosophy class last spring. In German philosophy we read Walter Benjamin's "Art in the Age of its Technical Reproducibility," which discussed the modern era of photography and technology, and its role in the art world. The essay addressed the question, is art still valuable if it is easily reproduced?

I, personally, thought the question was newly significant in the computer age, where we can create "art" on the computer, through visual arts or photography, and have them never take solid form. There are hundreds of photographs that I take for art's sake that never exist in paper form because I never take the time to print them, and they exist only on the computer screen. We have come a long way from verbal tradition and cave drawings, my friends.

Sitting with Doctor Spike, browsing David Hockney's collection of electronic and iphone art, I asked him what he thought of the argument. His response, was that of course art is valuable, no matter what the medium, because art is communication. If a picture, or a painting, or a mark on a computer screen successfully evokes an emotion or sparks a dialogue, how can it not be art?

I don't know if I necessarily agree with him, now that it's been several weeks since the conversation, but the way he said it made me think that there was no way this man could be wrong.

It's that time of year...

2011-11-28T18:21:00.000-05:00

A brief dialogue from my monuments and memory seminar:

-The "who"s in this story are very important.
-Just like in The Grinch!

Thanksgiving is past. Our lights are up. It's beginning to feel like Christmas time. The one thing that's standing between me and Christmas is finishing college. Cheers!

Words

2011-11-27T11:41:00.001-05:00

I've been meaning to post this for a while. It's called a wordle. I made it back in the first few months of my blog. It's a pretty good description of everything I had on here for the first few months. Here's to many more words!

le petit dejeuner

2011-11-26T10:25:00.001-05:00

I had a French morning today. I woke up at about nine and made chocolate croissants and drank coffee while watching Le Quatre Cents Coups or The Four Hundred Blows. I feel so French, except fatter, because I've eaten so many croissants in the past three days.

Regarding the film, it was recommended to me by Sasha last week when I was in Swem looking for movies to watch over break. He said it was a must-see for anybody who is interested in film, and then Madeline agreed. It was realistic and strange and inconclusive and, in that respect, very French. I felt almost as if I had seen it before, but I'm supposing that that is because it is important to French cinema culture. For me, it seemed to capture the reality of 1950s France; of parents and children alike learning to be responsible and of a developing nation in the post World War II era. I'm glad I watched it.

J'aime les matins francais.

It's Frye-day, Frye-day...

2011-11-25T09:08:00.001-05:00

Happy Black Friday, everybody! Buy lots of cool presents (for me and everybody else on your list)!

I'm off to celebrate at the Trellis, just like I celebrated Thanksgiving yesterday! Although yesterday I got the morning off to run a 5k (24:49.15) while today I am actually scheduled to work 12 hours. Oy vey!

But my Fryes are the most comfortable shoes ever, and today is our one year anniversary! I bought them last year right before Black Friday, and they arrived on that day. Hopefully I can get away with wearing them for most of the day, since the last time I tried wearing them to work I was told to stop wearing cowboy boots.

But you know what Rebecca Black says... it's Frye-day.

Bigshot Phonecalls

2011-11-18T12:39:00.001-05:00

For the Muscarelle class, I'm doing research on a lithograph portrait of Felix Man by David Hockney. Doctor Spike, who I have begun to affectionately call "Spike," considers Hockney one of the greatest living artists.

I have proof that he's alive.

I just got off the phone with him.

Out of respect for his copyright, here is a link to his portrait of Dr. Spike with his wife, Michele.

All Hail the Pumpking!

2011-11-16T12:05:00.000-05:00

Pumpkin + Ice Cream + Coffee = cheapest and best pumpkin latte. Instead of cream and sugar, just add a tablespoon of pumpkin ice cream to your coffee, and maybe some extra milk.

Last week I had access to a car, which meant that I went on a big grocery shopping spree to Trader Joe's. Much to my dismay, however, the pumpkin ice cream was out of stock! Luckily, a shop-keep saw the shock and horror on my face when I realized there was none, and told me that they could call me when the next shipment arrived.

So, two days later, they did! And now I have pumpkin ice cream and pumpkin butter and so much delicious pumpkin all the time.

I have undying love for Trader Joe. If he were Pumpking, I hope he would allow me to be his Pumpqueen.

Metro: Life and style.

2011-11-15T13:34:00.000-05:00

The Metro / Subway / Tube.

Whatever you call it, it's certainly a way to get around town, or maybe the world!

I bought these earrings this summer in St. Petersburg - they are maps of the St. Petersburg and Moscow Metros. It's amazing how something so practical in everyday life can be so structured and, dare I say, pretty. The metro becomes a symbol for the city and the world in which we live.

However, this map shows a lot about how we understand and view the world. The fact that Europe and Asia are so enlarged, and how Africa is shrunk, might give insight to where such a system of travel is necessary, and where it is valued.

Here are two maps of the proposed Vilnius metro. On the one hand, the city would benefit from such a system, because it would allow Vilnius to join the ranks of other "metropolitan" European capitals. On the other, a Vilnius metro would take a lot of work, time, and money that Lithuanians may not be ready to handle. The current system of buses and trolley-buses has long since been 100% efficient; however, it also feels like a distinctly Eastern-European institution. Considering the fact that the trolley-buses celebrated their 45th birthday on November 3rd, I would say that much of the population agrees. It remains to be seen if the metro ever gets off the ground (or, as it were, into the ground), but forward-minded Vilnieciai will obviously keep their fingers crossed.

Fluxus Lives!

2011-11-13T12:39:00.001-05:00

My last post was about Fluxus Ministerija closing.

But that was in Vilnius.

The New Fluxus Ministerija is planned to open in the abandoned Lituanica shoe factory in Kaunas.

The Ministry is looking for creative people who are interested in using the space for studios or other functions. If you stumble upon this, and are looking for a new, amazing experience, contact them through info@fluxusministerija.lt

FLUXUS LIVES!

Fluxus Ministerijos Uzsidarymas.

2011-11-10T13:29:00.001-05:00

I was there for the opening, I conducted research about it, and now, after a good 18-month life, Fluxus Ministerija is closing. I hope the memory of this movement will live on in Vilnius and in Lietuva.

I was curious when I first heard about the Fluxus Ministerija. I actually knew nothing about it when I arrived at the building, with Robbie in tote, that weekend in April. There were chalk tags around the city advertising its opening, and the group of eccentrics, both young and old, made it quite the event. I had heard of Fluxus, but the building, the abandoned ministry of health, seemed like a strange place for the home of Fluxus in Vilnius.

“Keep dancing. Keep singing. Have a gooddrink and do not get too serious. Ok?”

-Jonas Mekas

Thesewords were scribbled on a plaque hanging above the elevator doors and next to aset of re-appropriated train station schedule boards during the grand openingof the Fluxus Ministry. Reflecting on the quotation, I wondered if it waspossible to “not get too serious” when walking the extensive interconnectinghallways the former Soviet hospital, that reopened its doors for the first timein April 2010 under a completely new pretense. Five stories above ground andtwo stories below, the long, broad hallways of former hospital wards rang with experimentalmusic, flickered with the lights of ancient film reels, and were filled withmembers of the artistic community of Vilnius, old and young, congratulatingeach other on the success of the collective artistic project.

That was how I opened my personal statement when I applying for my research grant for last summer's research in Vilnius and St. Petersburg. The impression that the place left on me has carried me into a year's worth of investigating the significance of unofficial art movements, and the essential nature of space in artistic life.

Talking to the people involved, I know that Fluxus Ministerija will live on, if only as an 18-month memory. I can only hope that their efforts will pay off, and new institutions will emerge from the success of this short chapter.

Free Sticker Day

2011-11-08T15:22:00.000-05:00

If you are at all able, go vote today!

Vote whether or not you know why or how.

Your instinct and intuition is better than not voting at all.

Vote.

Today monikawithak.blogspot.com reached 12,345 page hits.

I discovered this two hits later, at 12,347 page hits.

Pretty cool, huh?

To celebrate, enjoy this brief and historic article.

It's been spreading around facebook like wildfire, but it is lovely.

Valio, Lietuva!

showtime!?

2011-11-06T15:57:00.002-05:00

We are down to the wire, people. Just about three weeks until our St. Petersburg films premiere! If you *happen* to be in Williamsburg, come check them out!

Real Life-cation

2011-11-01T22:49:00.002-04:00

I am approximately six weeks from finishing my undergraduate education.

I have approximately thirty pages worth of papers to write, several hours of exams to take, and a documentary film to edit.

I need a vacation.

The (potentially) longest vacation of my life is waiting for me six weeks from now.

This is my crazy-scared-excited face.

Lithuania + Halloween = Best Day Ever

2011-10-31T09:52:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine shared this on facebook, and I subsequently commandeered it for my profile picture. It's not every Halloween that Foxtrot turns Lithuania into a pun of a Halloween costume (and a bad one at that!)

Happy Halloween from monikawithak.blogpsot.com!

Impressing Impressions by Impressionists

2011-10-28T11:56:00.001-04:00

I mentioned before that I was taking a course called "Curating, Collecting and Connoisseurship" at the Muscarelle Museum this semester. For the first week, the class seemed amazing, and subsequently turned into a struggle. Every class I went to, I felt that, although Professor Spike wanted us to help on the show, the amount of time we spent at the museum would make that impossible. Thus, I became disheartened and slightly apathetic, compiling my script for the tour on a whim and thinking of the museum class as just a task on my to-do list.

Then the paintings arrived and the show opened.

Everything has changed since then. The show opening was a fantastic event, with hundreds of people mingling, drinking wine, and struck with awe at the paintings we had to share with them. My classmates and I attended, celebrating that the show was finally up, and sharing the good times. The following day, I returned to guide my first tour, which was a bit rocky, but more or less a success.

I am no expert on Impressionism, although Professor Spike might want me to be. Nonetheless, I have learned a lot from taking this course, but not just about Impressionism. Yesterday afternoon I gave another tour for two of the museum's most important donors. I had fixed some of the glitches in my first tour, specifically the path that I took them on, and was able to speak fluidly about the whole exhibition, albeit with some improvisation. Having spent so much time researching and hearing about the works, I now feel comfortable sharing that knowledge by ad lib, which, honestly, sometimes seems like the root of academia.

If any of you are interested in seeing the show, it's running at the Muscarelle until the 22nd of January. If you want a tour by me, however, you will need to come in by mid-December.

PS: Visit the class blog to hear more about our role in the production of the show!

Homecoming 2011

2011-10-20T17:26:00.001-04:00

It's a strange institution, the idea of school pride, or, in my case, Tribe Pride. Having travelled in Europe, particularly in Eastern Europe, and being so familiar with the American tradition, it's strange to imagine how it all came to be. It's more particularly strange that I find myself bridging this gap.

This weekend is homecoming. That idea means nothing to most Eastern Europeans, but for me it means a weekend full of Pep Band, receptions, free food and, more than likely, quite a bit of alcohol. Being entirely aware of the fact that Pep does not translate into other languages puts me in a weird place when explaining that part of my life to my colleagues in Europe. Normally, I break down the action to, "I play trombone during football games." It makes no sense without the cultural context, but that is exactly what it is.

Trombones love the Griffin

I don't have it in my mind to change the cultural institution of school pride in Europe. I don't expect to start a pep band at some university in Lithuania or Belarus. It would be humorous, and I would feel like the Music Man. (He's a music man! He's a what? He's a what?) Instead, I will wear my Vilnius University sweatshirt around William and Mary's campus, and remember that part of my college experience with pride, while cheering on the Tribe and playing my trombone at Saturday's football game.

A Tale of Dates and the Russian Department

2011-10-14T17:42:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I spent a good portion of the day with the Russian department. Professor Kate Brown, a professor of Russian studies at University of Maryland Baltimore County came to give a talk about closed cities and nuclear power plants and some of the Russian department seniors were invited to a lunch with her beforehand, to discuss our options for research and graduates studies and other plans for the future. Aside from the free lunch, I was excited because most of time was spent talking about research and her adventures after undergrad, wandering around Eastern Europe and learning languages. Essentially, I spent the whole lunch sitting next to her thinking I want to be you!!!

Additionally, the lecture was also very interesting and thought-provoking, showing the similarities between the United States' and USSR's dealings with the residential areas around Nuclear power plants, particularly with regard to closing cities due to radioactivity, and the affects up until today. It almost makes you want to visit these places, and then you're reminded that they are not open to the public. The repercussions today, even, are tragically ongoing.

By the end of the day, I was excited to get a break from my classes and lectures, especially because I had a date to go to the Blue Talon Bistro. Ever since I started working at the Trellis, I've become something of a foodie. This has escalated in the past months, since I've turned 21 and feel like I can truly experience restaurant dining with wine and all.

I arrived at the Blue Talon only to run into one of my TAs from last year, who is quite active in the history department, particularly with Eastern European studies. "What do you know?" I greeted her with, and she responded, "Are you here for the dinner?" The way she emphasized the made my heart skip a beat. I had made my own reservation a few days before, but having seen her and the rest of the Russian department several times already through the day, I knew what she meant.

The Russian Studies and History Departments were having dinner at the Talon. Four of my professors, and two of my Fulbright recommenders were right there.

But that's not all. The hostess sat me and my date right next to their table.

I averted my eyes and asked the hostess if we could be moved, so she sat us on the other side of the room, just a few tables away, which was enough of a relief. I was aware that the Russian department was just behind me, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

Until the end of their dinner, when Professor Corney, one of my History professors and Fulbright recommenders, popped by the table, leaned over my shoulder and asked, "How was your dinner? Lena [my Russian Literature professor] told me not to come over, but I have daughters, so I know how to make dates uncomfortable."

Thank you, Corney.

I responded, "It's been lovely! Thanks for stopping by!" or something like that. My date must have been very confused, regarding the apparent familial connection I have to these professors.

I truly feel like I am a daughter of the Russian department now. Sasha, our Summer in St. Petersburg Professor, is my Russian dad; his wife, Lena, is my Literature professor and Russian mom; and Corney is my crazy British/Russian uncle. However, as much as I love the Russian department with all my heart, that encounter was almost too much to handle. My life is so entirely consumed by Russian studies and all that that entails, that I am legitimately ready to be done with all of this schooling. It's good to know that I only have two months left.

The date itself, however, was actually lovely. Just serendipitously invaded by the Reds.

Magazine Feature - Celebrity Status?

2011-10-08T02:17:00.003-04:00

My research is the gift that keeps on giving! Apparently, I've been featured in this semester's edition of "Ideation" the William and Mary Undergraduate Research Magazine. It's a photo of me conducting an interview accompanying an article about undergraduate research opportunities. I thought you all might like to know.

It's nice that, even though my research project, minus the movie, is over, I keep getting recognition for it. I hope it means good things to come!

Loose Ends Tied

2011-10-05T13:22:00.001-04:00

My research paper from this summer has been officially posted to the William and Mary in St. Petersburg Research Blog.

Face Lift

2011-10-04T13:33:00.000-04:00

monikawithak.blospot.com is going through some changes

A makeover, if you will. It has come to my attention that this blog, once so directly focused on Eastern Europe, has strayed from its initial goal. Rather than leaving the blog behind, as I once did, and starting a new one, I'd like to leave all my materials in one place, and, instead, just change the name.

Some of you might recall the project I once started, which I called "Lunch with Monika." It's back. Maybe not in the same way, but back nonetheless. In this blog, you will likely find a variety of random thoughts by me, regarding my life, my plans, my future, and the cool people that may come in and out of the picture. There will be some exciting adventures, but mostly musings on academic life, which is, I recognize, often very boring. So I'll try to include pictures to make it a bit more exciting.

The North End by night - outside the Vinoteca di Monica

Thank you for sticking by me for such a long time, dear readers. I know you are few, but you are lovely. New blogging technology allows me to see that I'm getting quite a good number of blog views every day, and that warms my heart. You are the best!

Curating, Collecting, and Connoisseurship

2011-09-29T13:43:00.001-04:00

One of the coolest classes I'm taking this semester is a class at the Muscarelle Museum of Art, the small art museum on campus, called Curating, Collecting and Connoisseurship. The class is taught by the staff at the museum, headed by Dr. John T. Spike, a world-renowned art historian, who is currently serving as a Scholar-in-Residence at the college. I took this class not really knowing what I was getting involved with, but it's turning out to be pretty exciting for the most part.

What we're doing in the class is helping to put together the educational and marketing materials associated with a collection of impressionist works that is coming to the College in October. The collection, owned by the High Museum of Art in Atlanta, is coming to us on a whim, because they had another venue drop out of the tour. The collection includes several Monets, Renoirs, Mary Cassatts, and plenty of other phenomenal impressionist works, that have, in reality, no set exhibition, so we were given the opportunity to arrange them and share them as we pleased. That's why we entitled the show, "Seeing Colors: The Secrets of the Impressionists." (This link goes to class blog, on which I am featured!)

We took a class picture yesterday. It was supposed to be a jump-shot, but this is immediately post-jump, so it looks pretty awkward.

I knew very little about Impressionism before, but I learn more and more each day. I'm in the group that is coordinating the tours, and planning out how the tours will sound when the show opens and people want to be guided through the exhibition. It's a daunting task, and with our deadlines fast approaching, we have a lot to do!

I must say, though, that working with Dr. Spike is the coolest opportunity. I'll be honest, that I didn't know much about him before, but his lectures are endlessly helpful, and his individual meetings are even better. On the first day of class, I learned that his undergraduate degree was in Russian, so we recited Pushkin together, and when he learned my name was Monika, he started off on a tangent about St. Monica and faith, and gave me a hug, which made me melt a little bit. Yesterday in a meeting, he mentioned that he had stumbled upon my blog, which I want to thank him for here, especially because he mentioned it.

I love this class, as I hope you can see from this post. There are some flaws to it, which I don't want to expand upon here, but it's definitely an interesting introduction to museum work that I'm glad to take a part in. Make sure to visit the show if you're in the area sometime between 22 October and 22 January!

Summer Research Showcase

2011-09-27T21:21:00.000-04:00

When I finished high school, I was almost sure that I would never have to make a tri-fold presentation poster ever again. I was wrong. Having received a research grant from the Charles Center this summer, I had to present my findings and experience with such a poster, which I presented this afternoon.

Thanks to Sasha for the pictures! Here, you see me and my poster's title "Free Culture: The Legacy of 'Unofficial' Art in the Former Soviet Union." I am also wearing my St. Petersburg Metro earrings.

The past few days have been filled with poster production, which, although time-consuming, was a lot easier than I expected it would be. I began with selecting some thirty pictures and still frames from my footage, and printing them out at the copy center. I then wrote in-depth captions for each photograph, describing the contents and the context of each one. From interview shots to images from my year and summer abroad in Vilnius and St. Petersburg, I had an overwhelming amount of material to put on the poster, which I glued and taped together last night.

Arriving at Blow Hall 201 today, I was unsure of the protocol for the showcase. There were some fifty people presenting their projects today, each set up at a table with tri-fold posters of varying quality. Some people seemed to have put little more than twenty minutes in the building of their posters, while others, like myself, definitely put some effort in. Quality of the posters aside, there were a ton of topics covered, that I was blown away by the amount of information thrown at me.

Sasha came to hear about my project. Thanks to Lena for documenting on photograph!

What was surprising, in the best way possible, to me, was that the presentation of my own poster felt so natural. Talking about my research experience and my findings, using my poster as reinforcement, came so easily, because I have, in fact, internalized so much of the information that I researched. I was able to talk freely about my experiences and the implications of the unofficial art movements, so much that when I was presenting to Sasha and Lena, Sasha insisted, yet again, that I go to grad school somewhere and study anthropology or Slavic studies. As nice as Dr. Bernotas sounds, and as much fun as this research process was, I think I'll stick to my guns and run into the future head-on to see what it has in store.

Pumpkin Quadfecta (It's a word now)

2011-09-27T09:02:00.001-04:00

Saturday: Pumpkin donut.
Sunday: Pumpkin muffin.
Monday: Pumpkin scone.
Tuesday: Pumpkin bagel.

I love pumpkin season.

Thoughts

2011-09-22T14:39:00.000-04:00

Men want to be heroes.
Drinking dirty chai makes me feel like a hipster, but it's just so tasty.
[some] women want to be saved.
Croque-Monsieurs are the best sandwich.
People, in general, like to complain.
I like the looks that I get, as I walk down a hall wearing high heeled boots that make epic click-clacking noises.
House sitting is time consuming, but having a car with a fac/staff sticker makes it worth it.

I'm sitting in my art history seminar right now. I did the readings according to the pre-hurricane syllabus, which means that I didn't do the readings. Such is life.

Yoko Ono's Wishing Tree in the Sculpture Garden in Washington D.C. over Hurrication

I love love, and it's pumpkin season.

Full Swing

2011-09-21T17:32:00.003-04:00

The past few weeks have been proof that eighteen credits is, in fact, a lot to be taking as a final-semester college student. Yet, all the courses I'm attending are fantastically engaging, and I am reminded every day why I am glad to study at William and Mary.

Of course, I find myself all too often in the basement of Swem, working on cleaning up and editing my footage from my summer research. Each hour I spend in there, I am thrown into ridiculous bouts of nostalgia, not only for St. Petersburg, but for Vilnius as well, and all of my Eastern European adventures. It is hardly the big events that I'm nostalgic for, rather, the every-day life. The sitting on the canal on warm summer nights or climbing up Gedimino Bokstas on a beautiful fall day or making dinner in my flat with my flat mates.

I'm just about one month into what has already been a crazy semester, and there is so much left to be done and said. Cheers to the beauty of fall and the experience of memories; not that the past should happen again, but that I can celebrate the joy of those moments even today.

Kite-flying over Hurrication in Springfield, VA

Today vs. That Day

2011-09-11T20:19:00.003-04:00

I hate that today, you can refer to "that day" and know what everybody is talking about.

I will always remember that in the subsequent months, the sound of airplane wings cutting through the atmosphere from miles away gave me chills, fearing that the United States, Boston, my home would be a target.

It is my Dad's birthday.

The first time I watched the film of "Godspell" I didn't know what to think. I watched Jesus dance on the Twin Towers, which were at the time a new beacon of American industry and world peace.

Today, I pray for all those who live with these losses every day. We may come together today in remembrance, but they have learned to cope every day for ten years. I am endlessly thankful for all that I am blessed with. My life is beautiful.

Deadlines, Beginnings, and Ends

2011-09-05T20:57:00.002-04:00

The semester has begun. The end of this semester is the end of my formal education for the time being.

!!!

There is a ton in between me and the end of the semester, though. We got off to a rough start because of Hurricane Irene and the subsequent evacuation. Now that we're going, there's no stopping. Here is some of what I'm up to:

Pep Band After a rough (and I mean rough!) trip to Charlottesville to watch UVA slaughter us on Saturday, the season is looking hopeful. The band sounds great, despite my inability to play the trombone, and, as social chair, the social events are also looking excellent. I'm no Martha Stewart, but I'm excited to do some group entertaining, and having an officer's position has its benefits.

CCM I'm serving on the CCM Campus Presence Ministry again this year. I am not yet sure what this will entail, but I'm glad to be involved with CCM somehow. More important to me, however, is my singing in the Folk Group, which is the best way to celebrate mass. I miss singing in formal groups, but the possibility for me to join Choir this semester was practically nonexistent. Catholics are great!

The Trellis "It's lonely at the top," lamented my boss yesterday at the Trellis, when I returned for my first shift of the semester. Apparently morale is low at the restaurant these days, which is a sort of drama I really don't want to be dealing with this semester. However, after only two minutes back in the saddle, I had my head wrapped around the changes, and it was like I hadn't even left. It's not a bad way to make money; at least better than nothing!

Classes I am taking some of the coolest classes this semester. I have three requirements for my major this semester, which include Russian Literature, Intellectual History of Modern Europe, and European History. In addition to those, I'm attending four more classes. One is called Curating, Collecting and Conoisseurship, a class at the Muscarelle Museum, for which we'll be putting together the materials for an impressionism show that is coming to campus in October. Another is Public Space: Monuments and Memory, a three hour seminar where we'll be studying sites of memory and elements of urban landscape that contribute to a collective identity. The easiest class is Adventure Games, which is a twice-a-week, one-hour class on the ropes course on campus. The last one is called Visualizing St. Petersburg.

Research The last class I'm taking is actually a class in which I'll be wrapping up my summer research. At the end of September I will be presenting a poster to summarize my findings from this summer's research project. Then, in late November, on the 29th to be exact, I will be showing the final product of the documentary that I'm working on. As I write, I am in the Library's Media Center capturing footage from this summer. It makes me want to return to Lithuania and Russia so badly!

Fulbright As my formal schooling career comes to an end, I have few academic pursuits on my horizon, as far as I'm concerned. One of those is a Fulbright English Teaching Assistantship to Belarus. I'm currently at the beginning of the application process, working on my initial project proposal and my personal statement, as well as my resume. I don't know if it is exactly what I want to be doing next year, but I won't know if I have the opportunity even, unless I apply, so here I am, juggling eighteen credits, work, two committed extracurricular activities, research, and a big-time grant application. Such is my life.

I hope that quenches your thirst for knowing what is going on in my life. There is a lot going on and, despite the fact that I can't be sure I'll survive, I'm feeling pretty good about my ability to juggle all of this. For better or for worse, it's my last semester, and I'm going to make the most of it!

Wedding plans you can't plan for...

2011-08-31T09:05:00.002-04:00

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

I feel only a little bit weird making a blog post about somebody else's wedding, but this is important. On Monday morning I received an e-mail from the director of my camp, alerting the community that severe flooding in Vermont has left 105 people stranded at Neringa after a wedding on Saturday. My first reaction was shock, because being stranded is never actually a good thing. Thereafter, my reaction was envy for two reasons. The first, was that I haven't been to Neringa in over a year and I miss it something horrible. The second, was that it was a wedding at Neringa which, despite the fact that I am without an immediately potential husband, and have no imminent wedding plans, is exactly what I want when the time comes.

Through further facebook stalking, I managed to find pictures from the ceremony, and the subsequent days that seemed to be essentially a mini-stovykla (camp) where those who were stranded took part in yoga and massage classes, as well as enjoyed the surprisingly beautiful weather post-storm. The ceremony, which took place in the outdoor chapel, proved that I can get married outside and in the Catholic church (or so it seemed, somebody may prove me wrong). Furthermore, the bride had a ceremony wedding dress, and a white party dress for dancing around barefoot in the Pavilijonas until the hurricane hit, which seems like a splendid idea.

My own hurrivacation managed to get me out of class for three days, making this past one a five-day weekend, which I spent at the home of my roommate in Washington DC, being adopted by her family. Although it was a blast, I couldn't help wishing I was at Neringa, and ultimately spent the latter part of the weekend planning my wedding, whenever it may be.

Airport English.

2011-08-22T07:17:00.004-04:00

Before I left for Russia I was lucky that I had friends who were willing and eager to advise me in what St. Petersburg would be like. Now, upon reflection, I realize that some of their advise seemed unnecessary, and is proof of the constant change that's happening in that massive country. Because, truly, in the twenty years since the end of Communism, much has changed.

The one that stands out in my memory is in the few hours I spent at the St. Petersburg airport, leaving the country after six weeks. I tried to pack immaculately, weighing my bag after each item I put in and balancing between my purse, my carry on bag, and my checked suitcase. Unfortunately, I exceeded my weight limits by several kilograms, due to the books that I had collected on my trip. The attendant at the LOT Airlines desk insisted that I had to pay for my overweight bag in English, and I responded, of course, in angry English, that I would not, and I would rather re-distribute my belongings. Luckily, he allowed this of me, but I ultimately had to pay.

I was told before I went to Russia that I would not hear English langauge anywhere, and that people would be adamant about speaking Russian to me. On the contrary, I found people very willing to speak to me in English, when they could tell that I was a fluent speaker. It was similar to my experiences elsewhere in Europe, when they hear English, they want to practice. Furthermore, most signs on public transportation were listed in Russian and in latin script.

I'm not sure if this was for the high volume of tourists in St. Petersburg or for true advancement of Russia's ability to speak English, but I was surprised. Robbie, in particular, told me to prepare to not hear a word of English, particularly in the airport, of all places, because Russians would be adamant about speaking Russian. I was surprised, and not particularly pleasantly, to find people meeting my broken Russian with English. But, like everything else, it's a result of globalization, and I think I have to get used to it, especially if I have any intention to teach English in the future... but more on that later.

Another Chronology: My Last Few Days in St. Pete

2011-08-14T14:45:00.003-04:00

Sunday: Make blueberry pancakes for my host mom, go to church, return home to sleep, watch the sunset with Sophie from the beach.

Monday: Watch "A Window to Paris" in Russian class, watch "Anastasia" in Sasha's class, group dinner at Russian Kitsch, out until the bridges go up

Tuesday: Tour of the Church of Christ on Spilt Blood, market shopping, long day of wandering around the fontanka, packing, wandering to Lenin Square to see the Lenin Statue

Wednesday: Grocery shopping, picked up to be taken to the airport at 11.00, flight to Warsaw, long delays, arrival at JFK at 1.30 AM

Best Summer Ever?

2011-08-14T14:22:00.003-04:00

I had been looking forward to this summer for a long time. Probably for most of spring semester, because that semester, all 19 credits of it, was kicking my butt. The big thing to look forward to, of course, was my six weeks in Russia, especially because the trip was essentially free. However, my summer seems to improve with every day, and because of that, St. Petersburg stands out as only the beginning of the best summer ever.

Since my return from St. Petersburg nearly three weeks ago, I have not ceased to be busy. I flew into New York, only to drive three hours to Giraite, arriving at 6.30 am. Jet lag slowed me down, but this year's reunion at Giraite was nonetheless phenomenal. The week consisted of a series of mini-crazy-parties leading up to one larger one, which, due to some legendary mai-tais was unforgettably-forgettable. It was, like every year, my favorite thing in the world, hanging out in the woods with Lithuanians, and reconnecting with my family.

The best moments of this family reunion had to do with connecting with my russian cousins, Kira and Max. At ages seven and five, the two kids are adorable, and splitting their lives between Moscow and New York, they speak not only Russian and English, but Lithuanian as well. My first encounter with them this summer started with a simple "Privet" ("hi" in Russian) and led to them gasping, wide-eyed, asking in Russian how on earth I learned to speak Russian. When I told them that I just got back from St. Petersburg the day before, they scampered off in excitement to tell their mom. The rest of the week included some similar encounters, and Kira, while giving me a manicure, recounted the story of Чебурашка in Lithuanian with Russian dialogue.

After the Giraite reunion, I was home for a week, celebrating my 21st birthday, unpacking, doing laundry, tanning in the back yard, doing yoga, and repacking, because the second week in August brought me to Dainava in Michigan for Lithuanian Dance Camp. In name, it was courses for learning the dances that will be performed next summer at the Lithuanian Folk Dance Festival, which Boston is hosting. In reality, however, the week consisted of lots of dancing and lots of partying in the woods with Lithuanians. Essentially, all of my favorite things were rolled up into another phenomenal week of victory.

It is difficult for me to believe that the summer is drawing to a close. My new semester starts in nine days, and I'm spending the next couple days at home, unpacking, doing laundry, and repacking, and hanging out with Giedre, who's coming up to browse apartments in the Boston area. I'm packing as much Lietuvybe into the last few weeks of this summer as possible, to weigh out the six weeks of Russia. Not to say that Russia was bad - just to say that it was awesome, and, with some luck, I didn't have a back-to-reality-post-russia-let-down. My life is unbelievable, and I can only hope that my return to real life and school isn't a disappointment.

Souvenirs

2011-08-02T12:41:00.003-04:00

I gave my brother a Зенит scarf from the football game we went to during our first week of our trip in St. Petersburg. It's hard to believe that that was already six weeks ago, and how fast time is flying towards the beginning of another semester.

Anyway, I gave my brother this scarf, and he looks at it a bit bewildered. He reads:

"three eh-hent kahkht netep six eeper"

Which is his understanding of "зенит санкт петербург."

The scarf in action. Foreground: Sophie, Caitlin, and Ashby.

I guess I got so used to reading cyrillic that it didn't even phase me anymore. For him, it makes no sense at all. As far as I'm concerned, that makes it a pretty awesome souvenir.

Airport Promises

2011-07-27T01:49:00.003-04:00

My bags are packed, I'm ready to go, I'm sitting at my computer browsing through my last seven weeks of pictures, thinking about how I owe you all a lot of them, both on this blog and on facebook. I promise that will happen soon.

It's over. I'm being picked up to go to the airport in an hour, the start of a 15 hour journey home. I have a lot of things to write about, still, but I don't know which of those things will be absolutely necessary to report on.

St. Petersburg is a phenomenal city, and I'm blessed that I've had the opportunity to spend six weeks here. Many thanks to those who helped me, and, of course, read this blog. It's not over yet, just as it wasn't over after I returned home from Lithuania.

I leave you here, with a simple до свидания, Санкт Петербург. It won't be long, I'm sure.

St. Petersburg Ska Jazz Review -- In Concert!

2011-07-26T13:08:00.000-04:00

I can picture it now. I would stand at the stove in the smaller-than-small kitchen of our flat on Putino gatve, and Renato would be sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a beer, and playing this wonderful jiving-jazz music from his computer. It got me dancing every time, so after a while, SPSJR's "Too Good to Be True" came to be one of my favorite albums, finding its way into my music collection.

What a surprise it was to find out that they were playing in St. Petersburg while I was here. I learned the news online only three days after our arrival, and spent the first four weeks looking forward to this concert. When the day came, unfortunately, the whole group was wiped out, so I found myself headed to Mod Club by myself for a hell of a concert.

Of course, in good Russian fashion, the advertisements and fliers all said the concert started at 8, so when I came running from the metro station at 8.05, afraid that I had missed something, I was aggravated to learn the concert didn't start until ten. The bar served Baltica 8, though, so I settled down and watch a diverse crowd trickle into, what looked like an underground warehouse, although it was very much above ground.

Brilliant concert by a brilliant band. St. Petersburg Ska-Jazz Review! It's just too good to be true.

At last, the concert started, and the dance floor was packed. I pushed my way up near the front to hear the group rock out. Some of the things that made it amazing were, of course, the singer's jazzy belting, the funky outfits, the rocking dance floor (and the stupid crowd-surfer), the cute boy dancing close to me, and, most of all, the brassgasm, coming from the trombone player, with some help from the trumpet.

Unfortunately, the show was still going on when I took my leave at 12.00, so as to not miss the last train, and be stuck on the main land overnight. I was thrilled, though, to take this once in a lifetime opportunity to see one of my favorite bands live in such an intimate venue. Live music is always a phenomenal thing to see, and, even though I was alone, I enjoyed this concert immensely.

Peter the Great?

2011-07-26T12:39:00.004-04:00

Caitlin, my flat-mate and colleague, while I have been working on my Pushkinskaya-10 research project, has been studying the monuments to Peter the Great around St. Petersburg, and discovering people's perceptions of his Great-ness. It's a fascinating topic, especially because she is focusing on an avant-guard statue, made by Mikhail Chemiakin, a Russian emigre who lives in New York. The statue depicts Peter I as being tall with spidery arms and legs and a very small head. Where as some locals find it disturbing and disrespectful to the Czar and founder of St. Petersburg, tourists seem to enjoy the statue a lot.

Caitlin, Anastasia and I pose with Chemiakin's statue.

A couple of weeks ago, we went to a guest lecture by a professor at a local academic club. Essentially, the club hosts various events that people come to if they are interested, and want to expand themselves academically. We made our way there after class one day, to see his lecture about Peter the not-so-Great.

The man was prepared to present to us for four hours, but we arranged for it to be an hour and a half. He discussed Peter I's role in founding St. Petersburg, but the main points of his lecture were to blow holes through the weak title "Great" that the Czar has been given. He made claims that as a diplomat, reformer, and leader, Peter was really a horrible czar, with the mind of a child and the hands of a worker, and that he was unfit to lead the country.

Personally, Imperial Russian history is not my forte, and the lecture only had my attention for a short time. At the end, though, I was overwhelmed by the distaste this professor had for Peter the Great. It made me wonder why he was so vehemently critical of the city's founder. Upon some thought, I decided that it was possible that he was not, himself, incredibly opposed to Peter's rule, rather, he was making a point to introduce the idea of being critical of one's leaders. In America, with our two party system, it is easy to be critical of either party, depending on the main points of your own belief system. In the restrictive states of Imperial Russia and Communist Russia, being critical of the state meant deportation or exile, and even today, it is rare to see Russians outspoken against the heads of state. It is as if there is a grand myth that says that the state can do no wrong. This professor, whether or not he believed everything he said, was attempting to break the myth of Peter's Greatness, in order to introduce the idea of being critical of the country's leadership, because, in a theoretical democracy, that criticism must be present.

For better or for worse, I survived the lecture. Unfortunately, he does not need to make such a presentation to me to convince me of Peter's Greatness (or lack there of), since it is not my area of interest. I was glad, though, to see russians breaking the mold, and seeing new and controversial ideas come to the surface.

Alphabetter and Marketing

2011-07-26T12:28:00.003-04:00

One of my favorite things about Russia is the alternation between Cyrillic and Latin alphabets, especially in advertising. A lot of foreign companies are in Russia, and have their names in both the original language, and transliterated to cyrillic. Here are some of my favorite examples.

The oil company BP is in Russia, apparently. I was disappointed to see, though, that they advertise only in the latin alphabet, which, to a russian, should read as "VR." In my opinion, they should transliterate it to БП.

Of course, my Данкин Донатс mug has made its appearance here.

Subway / Сабвэй: The sandwiches aren't half bad, either!

One of my favorite meditations on this trip, was wondering whether russians read H&M as it is in English, or as "N&M" like it would be in Cyrillic.

Cracking Down in Russia: Bears before Beers!

2011-07-25T14:52:00.003-04:00

Last night, on one of our many recent evening outings, Sophie and I came across a bit of a strange situation. We arrived at the grocery store at 22.00 to find that they were going to stop selling beer at 23.00. Although this didn't affect us very personally, since we were buying then, and didn't forsee having to return to the store before we hit the sack, we were surprised that such a law was enacted, and we hadn't heard much about it.

I say "much" because, of course, there has been talk for a while about the loose alcohol policy in Russia, yet the buzz of reform has been quiet. I returned to the store today to see no such signs, but made my purchases before 23.00 anyway, just to be safe. When I googled the action, I found that the real point, was that the Russian government has recently made the declaration that beer is, in fact, an alcoholic beverage. Who knew?

Apparently, limitations on buying all alcoholic products will begin in the near future. Some of my reading reports as soon as 2012, others say 2013. Whatever the story, I don't know why the purchase time was limited last night, and I may never find out. Part of me is sad to hear this, but that part of me is the crazy girl, studying abroad in Eastern Europe, who, in fact, gets bored of partying quickly enough. The logical, responsible, almost-21 part of me is proud of Russia for taking the step, knowing that the country will be better off for it. According to hear-say from a recent survey, foreigners think of cold first, then vodka, then snow when thinking about Russia. Alcohol has really left its mark on the country's image. Maybe with this step, foreigners will begin to think about some more practical things. Like bears.

The First Step meets The Last Step

2011-07-25T13:41:00.003-04:00

It took only to realize that I had been defeated to accept my defeat, and move on.

Since that day, two weeks ago, I've been much more positive about my experience in St. Petersburg. Seeing it come to such a fast end is sad, although I know the city has served its purpose for now. In these past two weeks I have accepted the academic load that I was meant to take in St. Petersburg, and took that much more seriously. I committed myself to seeing new things and seeking new paths. One of my favorite things to do since I've been here was to mark a destination, and find my way there, trying to see as much as possible on the route I chose.

This is another feelings post. I feel that I was able to complete my tasks here more efficiently once I accepted defeat, and let the massive city wash over me, like the a sunken shard of glass in the Giboedova Canal.

The best part about this is that my own experience can almost be reflected in the St. Petersburg myth, of which I've learned so much about. Torn in two, pulled in the directions of enlightened Europeanness and mixed-up Russian-ness. Stuck in the divide. Yet the city gets to you, and whether it was through historic or cultural sites, with the group or on my own, I was able to get a feel for this city.

I have less than 48 hours in St. Petersburg. It's hard to believe its come to this, although it's not over yet. There is more to be said, more to be written, and this is not the last the city of St. Petersburg will hear of me.

Making Friends - Easier in Russia?

2011-07-25T13:11:00.003-04:00

The past couple of days, have been a big deep breath, since our work here was finished with an oral exam that we took on Friday. The weekend was largely without excursions, except for a nice canal tour by boat, which took place Saturday morning. This gave us plenty of time to do what we do best - hang out and enjoy our last few days in St. Petersburg. With that on the agenda, Sophie and I found ourselves wandering about and reflecting on our time while enjoying our city scape over grocery-store beers.

After a particular outing that occurred between the hours of 11 PM and 7 AM on Saturday night, Sophie observed something new about Russian people, that hadn't occurred to me before. She proposed that Russian people are easier to make friends with than Americans, because, although they have very hard faces from the first glance, once you acquaint yourself with them, they become quite friendly. On the other hand, Americans have a very friendly facade, but are less likely to share personal information or feelings until later in a relationship.

I have been put off by Russians, mostly because of their tendency to not smile. This is an observation that many Americans make about Eastern Europeans, but puts me at a particular disadvantage, because of my habit of smiling all the time, such that I was nicknamed "Smiley" back in my younger days. I have, fortunately, been able to survive despite the circumstances, by working hard on my metro-face and trying to look as confident as possible.

The fact is, smiling is acceptable in some situations, and smiling leads to conversations, and conversations lead to amazing adventures. Like the one that we had on Saturday night. It started with me, standing outside the Metro stop, waiting for Sophie under my umbrella, and making eye contact with a молодой человек (young man). Re-making eye contact several times, followed by a smile, led him and his friend to come start a conversation with me. That led to a text message an hour later from Misha inviting Sophie and me to party with him, which led to a meeting on the river bank to watch the bridges raise, a 2.00 AM boat tour on the river, and a visit to his doctor father's bourgeois apartment to watch 90s cartoons and drink sparkling wine.

Now, I don't know how common it is in America to have such adventures, but I certainly can't imagine having such encounters that begin only from making eye contact on the metro, and end without some horrible sex-scandal or tragedy. Maybe I'm just lucky, or maybe there's something to be said about the speed of developing friendships in correlation with outward appearance of friendliness. Whatever the story, I was pleased with the outcome of this adventure, despite my extreme fatigue now, but I think fatigue is part of the last few days in St. Petersburg experience.

KinoForum Update

2011-07-23T23:30:00.001-04:00

I've been featured on the William and Mary Reves Center News. Check it out!

In Chronological Order

2011-07-23T13:46:00.004-04:00

The past two weeks:

Friday: University, Photography Lecture, outing for Sophie's Birthday

Saturday: Peterhoff, Helsinki Bar outing

Sunday: Wandering the city, mass in French

Monday: University, Revolutionary March, Peter and Paul Exhibition Opening

Tuesday: University, Outing to Yusupov Palace, Kinoforum movie

Wednesday: University, Interviews for Caitlin, Guest Lecture about Peter the Great, Goodbye Dinner for Jes, Kinoforum Movie, dinner with Sophie at Kabanchik

Thursday: University, Kinoforum Movie, 1812 Overture and Fireworks

Friday: Interviews for Caitlin, Interview for Movie Theater Project, Lunch at Mama Roma with Sophie and Alex, Cafe Chillin', hanging out at home (watched Woody Allen's "Love and Death.")

Saturday: Pushkin, Catherine's Palace, St. Petersburg Ska-Jazz Review Concert

Sunday: Mass in Russian, wandering to Aleksandr Nevsky Monastery, Lunch at Etagi Loft Project

Monday: University, interview with Natasha, fruitless Souvenir market trip, coffee with Sophie, worked on my paper

Tuesday: Skipped out on class, Master & Margarita at Aurora Movie Theater, Intense wandering around the city, meeting with Sasha

Wednesday: University, Interviews at Pushkinskaya-10, Shopping with Anastasia

Thursday: University, New Museum of Contemporary Art, Anna Karenina Ballet

Friday: Final Exam, Excursion to Alexander Nevsky Monastery, Park chilling with Sophie

Saturday: Boat tour, Kabanchik lunch, Pushkinskaya-10 filming, Out until the bridges go up

A Palace is a Palace

2011-07-22T13:55:00.005-04:00

The past two Saturdays we have visited two of the most famous and elaborate summer palaces of the Russian Czars of old, designed by Italian architect, Ristrelli. The first, back two weeks ago, was Peterhoff, then last weekend was Pushkin.

Peterhoff is best known for its pump-less, controlled-by-gravity system of fountains, which was created to rival the palace of Versailles. On our excursion, after we toured the inside of the palace, we got to visit the Grotto, and see the tunneling system at work. It was a viciously hot day, and I wanted so much to jump into the fountains, although I knew it was a bad idea.

Honestly, I felt a bit silly bothering to take pictures at these sites, considering the number of people who were doing so. Here is one of the fountains at Peterhoff.

Pushkin, is a town where two palaces are located. The one we visited, was Catherine's palace, in which Czar Nicholas II lived with his family before he was de-throned. We visited on a rainy day, but that, obviously, didn't stop us from visiting the crown-jewel of this palace: the Amber Room, a room outfitted with panels made entirely of amber. Unfortunately, the room we visited was a reconstruction of the original, that had been destroyed by the Nazis in World War II.

The grand ballroom of Catherine's Palace, because we weren't allowed to take pictures in the Amber Room.

Although the palaces were decadent and unbelievably beautiful, I couldn't help but feel a little bit empty visiting them. They were packed with tourists, and I really, more than anything, hate the feeling of being a tourist. It didn't help that we had a tour guide speaking English to us about the sites we were seeing on both occasions. Despite the fact that the visits were touristic and underwhelming, I think I would have felt worse not visiting them, since they are such monumental sites to the history and myth of St. Petersburg.

Pushkinskaya-10 Research Thoughts

2011-07-21T09:30:00.003-04:00

After five weeks in St. Petersburg, adventure after adventure, and lots of lessons learned, I feel like I’m on my way to having an absolutely awesome research project (not that I wasn’t on my way before I got here). When I proposed this project, I was working off of a theme that was assigned for our study abroad program. For that assignment, we were looking at sites of memory in St. Petersburg, and developing short documentary films around interviews and filmed footage taken in the city. With that project in mind, I took my site, Pushkinskaya-10, and found a similar site in Vilnius, Fluxus Ministerija, and am now seeking to document their parallel existence with regard to the importance of physical space to artists and the legacy of unofficial art in the Soviet Union.

I first visited the Pushkinskaya-10 Art Center on my first free day in St. Petersburg, Sunday the 19^th of June, five days after our arrival. My first impressions were remarkable because they seemed to fit my project perfectly. The place is literally tucked away in plain sight, a somewhat-sacred space fusing studio, exhibition, and living spaces. I saw a man standing in a doorway chain-smoking cigarettes and staring into space, people making music, and little repairs happening here and there. It was mostly empty, but the few visitors I encountered had looks on their faces that betrayed their confusion or serenity with the situation.

Since that first visit, I have returned at least once a week to gather materials for my project. Valentina Kirichenko, the Art Center’s young and organized International Programming Director, who I’ve been in touch with since the project idea came up, was an invaluable resource by helping to connect me to different artists and figures in the Art Center. So far, I’ve conducted five interviews with people associated with Pushkinskaya-10, and each one has been different, both in content, and circumstance.

My first interview was with Sergey Kovalsky, the brain-father of Pushkinskaya-10 and an artist who lives in the art center. I met him a week before I conducted the interview, and he seemed pleased to have people interested in his project. I arrived to conduct this interview with a small army, consisting of Sasha, Jes, Anastasia, and Caitlin. With so much help, there was not much that could have possibly gone wrong. Sahsa was particularly helpful for me, helping to get the questions across, and Jes helped to set up the visuals well. Kovalsky’s responses to my questions were mostly what I expected from him, which was nice, but also planned that way. Because he is a businessman, he has some set answers to these questions, and I had actually read most of his articles already. His big point, however, is his concept of the parallelosphere, which, to explain, takes a lot more than a blog post.

The next two interviews took place the following day, and, armed with only the camera, and Caitlin, I was a little intimidated. The first interview was with Boris Koshelokhov, an aging, chain-smoking, coffee-addict artist, who invited us into his studio with great hospitality, spending the first twenty minutes of our time making us coffee in cups that had possibly not been washed for years. Thankful for real coffee (something that I miss from the US) I accepted. Kovalsky came to watch over this interview, because Caitlin and I, obviously not phenomenal Russian speakers, needed the help of somebody who understood what was going on, so he reinforced our inability to speak with his experience from the day before. Aside from the excess of clutter and possibly contaminated coffee, we had a great time interviewing him and letting him show us his paintings, each of which he photographs.

The second interview that day was much less scary, especially so because we had already survived our interview with Koshelokhov. This interview was with Valentina, who I mentioned already. She was pleasant, and speaks English, which was just nice to know, even though we conducted the interview in Russian. Her responses to the questions were great because she is so young compared to most of the people at the art center, and for that reason, she is really hoping to bring more young people to the center. As a twenty-something who cares about the legacy of nonconformist art, she definitely brought a new perspective to my project, one that was not represented by the aging artists who actually participated in the unofficial art movement.

My last two interviews took place yesterday, and the, unfortunately, did not go quite as swimmingly as the others. The first was with independent filmmaker and actor Aleksandr Bashirov. Sasha helped me set up this interview, because he was acquainted with Bashirov at some point in the past, because they are both a part of the Russian Guild of Film Critics, and met last week by chance at the St. Petersburg International KinoForum. His film company, Deboshir Films (sounds like… debauchery?) has an office at Pushkinskaya-10, which is where we met for the interview. I had been warned about him, and was aware of his eccentric personality, which is why I was relieved to bring with me Caitlin, Anastasia, and Lena, Sasha’s wife. The four of us arrived on time to the interview, only to wait fifteen minutes for him to arrive. The interview was interesting to say the least. As I tried to conduct the interview, he was dead set on giving me lessons on filmmaking, telling me about the tragedy of the television that he had placed in the restroom, which had recently been stolen, and trying to conduct an interview with me, which led me to remind him on three occasions that the interview was with him and not with me. Although I got lost on my interview questionnaire, I was able to get a lot of good thoughts out of him, regarding the way people treat each other at P-10, and about the improvements that have, thank goodness, been made since the art center opened.

The final interview took place later that day after Lena had left us, with a sound artist named Nikolai Sudnik. Unfortunately, it was not I that conducted this interview. I called Sudnik half an hour before the interview to remind him that I was coming, and he asked me to bring him beer. Out of professionalism, I told him I couldn’t, but my beginner’s Russian made me sound stupid to him. When we began to conduct the interview, he objected to my interview questionnaire, saying that it reminded him of a KGB interview, and, therefore he wouldn’t allow me to use that. When I began working from memory, he decided that my inability to speak Russian was offensive, and that his English was definitely better than my Russian. Ultimately, Anastasia worked from memory to conduct the interview in Russian, while I sat there, fuming at his selfishness. He offered very few constructive answers to my questions, and on more than one occasion wandered off the path to talk about his adventures from the night before. Let’s just say that I was glad for more reasons than one when the interview was complete.

I will be heading back to the United States next week with nearly seven full digital videocassettes filled with footage from both Vilnius and St. Petersburg, from Fluxus Ministerija and Pushkinskaya-10, and a great number of crazy interviews. I have a lot of work to do transcribing and translating my interviews, but the fact that I have the interviews done is a relief in itself. The great thing about these interviews was not that they revealed tons of research material, although they did that as well; it was also that they taught me about conducting journalistic interviews. Setting up the interview space was something that Jes was teaching us, but getting onto the scene helped me to find a balance between the time we have, the space available, and the resources. I learned how to overcome technical difficulties, especially with microphones. The most interesting, however, was dealing with the consent forms. Getting written consent for these interviews was nearly impossible because my interviewees were so uncomfortable with signing anything that seemed official. My consent forms were written and translated in my best professional language, and that scared many of my subjects. For that reason, after jumping some hurdles that I wouldn’t have managed without Sasha’s help, I got advice from Jes and Sasha, and decided to conduct the rest of my interviews with oral consent at the end of the interviews.

I am reluctant to say it, but I look forward to getting home, and working on my transcriptions, translations, and video production. In the mean time, I hope to enjoy my last six days in St. Petersburg for all they’re worth!

Photography Club Face-off

2011-07-19T14:30:00.003-04:00

Wow, I've really left you guys hanging the past couple days. Yet, I am still meeting my goal of having as many posts as there are days in July, so we're on good footing here. This post is reaching back in my memory a little over a week, but it's interesting, and therefore worth posting.

Jes Therkelson, one of our two professors on this trip, is a professional photographer and filmmaker, and his position at William and Mary right now is as Filmmaker in Residence. Unfortunately, he had to leave about a week ago to go teach National Geographic people about photography in Iceland. That says something about how legit he is - teaching National Geographic how to take photos.

A couple weeks ago, we were invited to a lecture that he was giving to the St. Petersburg Photography Club, a group that meets and trains each other in photography. It's a pretty academic club, which is why they befriended Jes and had him make this presentation; however, their home is little more than a two-bedroom apartment, outfitted for open-circle discussions and photography lessons. There were only three of us who decided to attend the lecture, along with Sasha and Jes, and the members of the photography club.

Jes based his discussion around a project he's been working on for several years, called The Clean Hands Project, for which he travelled around Nepal, training local journalists in photography and filmmaking during three-day one-on-one seminars, so that they could better tell stories about the caste system, particularly, the untouchable caste. The project is, obviously, a really big feat, and a cool adventure to hear about. I, personally, am always impressed to see how artistic endeavors can turn into real life work. Although I often consider pursuing journalism or photography or something of the sort, career options seem too limited for me to take that path.

Surprisingly, the St. Petersburg Photo Club members saw the project a lot differently. Some of them had connections to Nepal, others didn't, but most, if not all, of them seemed particularly critical of the goals of the project. Although it was initially a human rights organization in Nepal that came up with the idea, these Russians were critical of the fact that an American felt the need to go into a foreign country to "help" develop a humanitarian journalism network. Luckily, Jes made his presentation in English, with Sasha as a translator, so some of the more biting questions were toned down in translation, meaning that the few flying sparks didn't blow up the whole apartment. However, the lecture got pretty tense at times, and it was a bit crazy to watch. Especially because I was so used to being put on the spot by our professors, and to see Jes get put on the spot by these Russian students was unnerving.

By the half-way point of meeting, though, we were overheated in the small apartment and ready to go. The tea break gave us just enough time to escape, while Jes ended up sticking around to talk about the techniques he uses in his personal photography. I was glad that I went, though, because of the new perspectives the club members gave me. I know american humanitarian work can be taken very critically, yet the biting criticism of these Russians was a bit over the top. Their criticism, however, will definitely make me think thrice the next time I consider going on a service trip.

My Dream Car and Other Adventures

2011-07-15T09:35:00.003-04:00

It's a Friday afternoon and I'm completely wiped out, sitting in an internet cafe, thinking about all that I've done in the past five days. The week started off in a weird key - I was thrown off-kilter and felt entirely defeated by the city, and this was only made worse by academic circumstances. Thankfully, the realization that I have less than two weeks in this city and I need to make the most of them hit me real hard, and I was able to get back on my horse, or, rather, back in my Lada.

There's nothing I love more than awkward, boxy, quasi-antique cars. Actually, there's a lot that I love more, but I take particular enjoyment at home and abroad, seeing Volkswagen Rabbits putt around on diesel. Here in Russia, although Volkswagens have a significant presence, the cars that grab my attention the most are Ladas. Back in the 1970s, the USSR bought and moved an Italian Fiat Factory to Russia. Now, all over the country, Ladas remind you what a truly Soviet Family car should look like. We were also reminded when watching the film "The Amazing Adventures of Italians In Russia" (Eldar Ryazanov, 1974), in which Ladas (and stunt-Ladas) serve as the main form of transportation for the heros, when they're not flying Aeroflot.

On Tuesday, I was thrilled to get my first ride in a Lada, in the most Russian way possible. The morning started off beautifully, but a deluge around 2:00 gave us some grief, as we tried to get from the University to the Yusupov Palace for a tour. Unfortunately, the palace is located in one of the few corners of the city's downtown that is inaccessible by public transportation. We got halfway there by bus, and, hiding under our umbrellas, Sasha decided to get us there by taxi the Russian way.

He stood on the curb, arm out, trying to flag down any car that would stop for him. When a car pulled over, he opened the passenger door, gave them the destination, and they offered a price. The first load of people went off for 300 roubles. The second group, consisting of myself, Sophie, Jes and Sasha, waited for the next car, and Sophie and I even stepped up to the curb to try our luck as ladies. Eventually, a Lada with a cracked windshield pulled up and we clamored in out of the rain. The seats were cheap, damp, and uncomfortable, but I couldn't have imagined a more appropriate drive in such a Soviet car.

When we reached our destination, my door, not unexpectedly, was stuck, so I found myself crawling across the small back seat to get out. I was glad for the ride, and, although the car was charming on the outside, the inside left something to be desired. It was quite the turnaround, though, to leave such conditions behind, to get a tour of the Yusupov palace, one of the more reasonably lavish abodes in this city. The palace tour involved stops in some gorgeously outfitted dining and ballrooms, a brief concert in the concert hall, and a stroll through the private collection of art and the private theater (which seated about 100), as well as a great rehashing of the story of Rasputin's murder, which took place in Felix Yusupov's basement apartment in the palace.

Our Tuesday excursion was one of my favorites so far, juxtaposing in a brilliant way the efficiency of Soviet machinery, and the luxury of Imperial Russia. Chances are, such an experience will not happen again, unless I marry into the Yusupov dynasty, and use their money to buy a Lada.

KinoForum and Pretending to be a Professional

2011-07-14T09:25:00.003-04:00

Sporting a laminated and lanyard-ed visitors pass around my neck, I caught the elevator up to the fifth floor of the Hotel Europa, here in St. Petersburg. The ballroom from which I am writing is the headquarters for the 2011 St. Petersburg International KinoForum, and I have never felt so much like a professional journalist. It's amazing how a laminated visitors' pass can make you feel that way. I may never get this opportunity again, so I'm just going to pretend, for the time being, between starting and finishing this blog post, that I'm the professional movie-critic that I feel I am.

On Monday, we met for a "Revolutionary March" which involved walking several miles on the hottest day we've had so far, retracing the steps of the Bolsheviks during the October Revolution. We met at a metro station not far from the Smolny Institute, but my mind tracked to one thing as soon as I showed up: the ten lanyards around Sasha's neck. Maybe a visitors pass doesn't mean anything, but so far I haven't had to pay for a ticket, and I haven't been turned away from any place, so I guess it must be somewhat useful. As I said, pass in hand, I feel like a professional, and I'm milking that feeling for all it's worth.

So far, I've seen three movies and have visited the headquarters for the festival three times. Our first day's assignment was to obtain a program for the festival, marking the times of all of the showings. Of course, I was not going to let the packet of paper go to waste, and looked up the shows I was interested in seeing. Although I arrived home tired on Tuesday night, the feeling that my time in St. Petersburg is coming to a fast end haunted me, so after dinner, I quickly changed my clothes and literally ran out the door to arrive at the "Rodina" Cinema for an 8.20 showing.

The first movie was a Danish film called "The Truth About Men" (Nikolaj Arcell, 2010). It was a charming film about a man and his insecurities, with the premise that he was a screenwriter and his life was actually a film. The story was what I would call "just your average male-perspective rom-com" but a lot more artistic. You might even say that it was a meta-film, but I don't want to get too philosophical here. For me, the wonderful thing was the experience of being in a Russian movie theater for the first time, and the irony that I wasn't seeing a Russian film.

The next day, yesterday, I decided to share the experience with somebody else. Sophie and I made our first excursion to the headquarters yesterday afternoon, followed by a screening of the Polish film "Out of Love" (Ania Jadowska, 2010), again at "Rodina." Falling on hard times, a couple decides to make a pornographic film to earn some extra money, that ultimately puts their marriage on the line, the film tapped into some really intense themes about love, and what committment means, without being trite. The description of the film, translated from, I imagine, Polish to Russian to English, sounded a lot funnier than the film actually was, but its dark character gave a lot more depth than a comedic version would have been. The irony, however, was that of the eight people in our study abroad group, Sophie and I are the most religious, and ended up being the two watching a film about pornography.

I had high hopes today to see many films; however, I've been struck down. I arrived late to a showing of a Russian documentary film called "A Diary from a Burnt Ghetto" (Evgeny Tsymbal, 2010) about a Holocaust survivor from Kaunas. It was Sasha who alerted me to the film, because it was about a Lithuanian girl and her diary. The film, honestly, was the most relevant to my own research, although not to the research I'm conducting here. Rather, it was relevant to the research I conducted this spring semester, about Lithuanian memoirs of Siberian deportation. It was relevant, however, to our projects, because it was a short documentary, only 52 minutes long, and focused on a single girl's story, through her diary and interviews now. It's intimidating, since, for our research, we're trying to fit several (as many as six) interviews into a five minute film.

So far, the KinoForum has been a beyond intersting international experience. To be surrounded by film-fanatic Russians and other international professionals and scholars alike, has been fascinating. When I arrived at the headquarters today, they were conducting a panel about international film education. In the cinema halls, I've heard so many languages, and, while I have been forced to press my Russian listening comprehension, I have also been lucky enough to see two films subtitled in English. For those films, Russian viewers had to borrow headsets and listen to dubbing through earphones, making the movie theater buzz with a whispering of Russian translations.

I'm so glad that I was given the opportunity to come to this forum and experience just how important cinema is to Russians. Through this program, I've been constantly surrounded by cinema ideas, about our research, and the movie theater project. The importance of cinema in this country resonates not only in the movie theaters, but in every aspect of life. To witness this, as a student, or as an imaginary professional film blogger, is certainly something to stumble upon, and turns my gaze to yet another potential career path. Who knows?

White Nights give way to Streetlights

2011-07-11T12:05:00.000-04:00

A couple nights ago, we spent the evening out to celebrate a birthday in our group. Initially we had intended on having an all-night adventure, risking the trip-off island, where, because of the drawbridges, we would be stuck until potentially past four AM. As it turned out, we were all super tired, which meant that we decided to stay on Vasilievsky Island, and have a small pub-crawl.

Although the night ended earlier than planned, we saw night a lot earlier than we are used to. The white nights that were so stunning upon our arrival here are disappearing, and the twilight is getting longer and longer. I was surprised to see streetlights come on at around 1:00 AM the other night, and they’re coming on later and staying on longer. The site of the streetlights was strange, because I certainly don’t remember seeing them often, since I don’t usually stay out so late. It’s strange to see the white nights coming to an end so quickly.

Moscow Love

2011-07-11T11:46:00.005-04:00

Last weekend we made our trip to Moscow, to get a taste of the Capital of Russia. Considering the city is nearly three times the size of St. Petersburg, I set myself up to be completely overwhelmed and not that excited to be there. I was prepared for it to be different, but I wasn't prepared to love it as much as I did.

We did the normal touristy things over the course of the three days we were there. Trips to Red Square, Lenin's Mausoleum, GUM (ye old Soviet Universal Store - now an overly trendy mall), the Kremlin, the Arbat, the former KGB headquarters, and Ismailovo (a tourist market) were all in order. We took the classic photo opportunities, and dragged our feet behind a tour guide, telling us where Stalin had set foot.

When it came down to it, the real adventures were off the schedule. We spent an evening dancing with old Armenian men in a bar, tackled Russian-bribe-making at Dunkin' Donuts, and wandered all over the place. We stayed at a super-sized Soviet Hotel, built for the 1980 Olympics, which the United States boycotted, and got sweeping views of a residential area not far from the center, as well as an up-close-and-personal view of the statue that MosFilm (the Soviet Film Production Company) used for their logo. We battled sky-scraping prices, and sought out cheaply priced Georgian restaurants in courtyard basements, or splurged at restaurants themed for our favorite 1970s Russian comedies.

I had only been in Moscow for probably seven hours, when I was wandering around with a couple of my group mates, and our official activities for the day had ended. We found ourselves by the Church of Christ the Savior, standing on the footbridge that has phenomenal views of the Kremlin and the statue to Peter the Great, as well as several Stalin-esque towers, of which there are many in Moscow. The sun was setting behind one of the hills (hills! That's something we don't have in Peter!) and hitting the domes of the Kremlin perfectly. Watching the boats float down the river, and the sun dancing on the rooftops of the sprawling city, I realized that I had fallen in love with Moscow.

Where as St. Petersburg is beautiful in its romantic architecture and perfect city-plan, to me, it's young age (only 308 years) means its history is not quite as rich. Moscow on the other hand has born witness to rapid political changes in the past twenty years, fell victim to extreme Soviet architecture before that, and stretches back a few more centuries, to a time when it existed as merely a hamlet. All of these layers emerge from different crooked streets of the city. I covered so little ground, but I didn't let it phase me, because if six weeks is too short, three days is a barely perceivable amount of time. I swallowed my desire to understand the city, and just let the Moscow experience wash over me, knowing that I'll have to go back.

feeling defeated

2011-07-10T12:36:00.004-04:00

Thus far, I've had over-all bright and optimistic blog posts. After all, I'm in a gorgeous city, at a gorgeous time of year, experiencing the end of my 20th year, and loving life. At the same time, I can't help but feel frustrated from time to time. I don't often make posts about my feelings, but I have this one today.

Defeated.

That's how I feel about having only six weeks total in St. Petersburg. When I arrived, I was completely overwhelmed by this city's size. It was totally unexpected that I wouldn't be able to walk across the city in a matter of minutes, or conquer the metro in a matter of days, or see everything that I wanted to see. The fact is, although I earned my St. Petersburg legs, and learned to walk around like I know what I'm doing, I feel as if no matter what I do, I won't be able to fully comprehend everything in such a short time frame as six weeks.

Perhaps it is because I compare everything I do here to Vilnius, and, having lived in that small city for ten months, I managed to get the most out of it, so much as to make it a second home. St. Petersburg, however, has a population of nearly 5 million, which is more than the population of Lithuania. The city is sprawling and massive. Today I spent several hours wandering around random streets, getting acquainted with sections of town I didn't know. On my map, I had covered an area that was about the size of a quarter.

This city is just too big and too rich to be conquered in six weeks, and as my time grows shorter and shorter, I feel more and more defeated by the vast number of things I have yet to see, on top of school work and research. Each day, I spend about six hours at the University, followed by some sort of adventure with the class, then, to be home for dinner by seven, I run out of time or energy to see anything else.

On an optimistic note, perhaps this means that this is not my last time in St. Petersburg. I can't leave this city behind, having spent this time studying Russian and learning about the culture. Today, however, I feel overwhelmed by the sentiment that this city is too much for me to handle.

La Paix du Christ!

2011-07-10T12:23:00.003-04:00

Today is my fourth Sunday in St. Petersburg, and the second Sunday on which I’ve gone to mass at St. Catherine’s Catholic Church on Nevsky Prospect. Although I’ve wanted to go to mass every week, it’s been difficult with the endless excursions that we’ve had. I was relieved that today we had a free day, and I was able to sleep until I woke up, wander around the city as I liked, and go to church.

Three weeks ago, when I last went to mass, I attended a Russian language mass, and, I admit, I understood very little of it. I could follow along, but I was mostly unable to participate in the mass, because I knew none of the words. Similar to Vilnius, though, the mass seemed really conservative, and people didn’t smile or shake hands when sharing the peace of Christ, which always makes me a bit uncomfortable.

Strangely enough, I felt much more comfortable this week at mass, when I went to the French language one. Having attended mass in French several times before, I was used to some of the French church vocabulary. What’s more, was that the crowd there was smaller and more diverse. Most of the congregation and the priest were Black, leaving only a few white and Asian visitors. The small choir sat at the front of the church, singing high-energy spirituals, and the peace of Christ was shared with smiles and handshakes. Despite the fact that I am, by no means, fluent in French, I followed a lot better than the Russian mass.

Although I generally find eastern-European Catholicism to be very conservative, in comparison to the extreme conservatism of the Eastern Orthodox Church, Catholics in Russia seem almost liberal. Where as in Orthodox Churches, women are often asked to cover their heads, in the few Catholic churches, people seem a lot more laid back.

The Catholic guilt got to me for missing two weeks of mass, and I hope I make it to mass on my final two Sundays in St. Petersburg. Maybe I’ll even visit some other language services, just to see how they size up!

SPBGU!

2011-07-10T11:18:00.003-04:00

As hard as I tried to convince myself that my six-week stay in St. Petersburg would be all fun and games and adventures, I knew deep down that I would be spending a good deal of time at the State University of St. Petersburg, studying Russian language. Each weekday, from 10 until 1 o’clock, we have Russian class. On Monday and Tuesday, the class is called “phonetics” which really means that we hang out and watch movies and talk about them. On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, we have “Communication,” in which we talk about various vocabulary topics, and read assorted articles and poems.

The super long main hallway from the Twelve Colleges building. It was supposed to house the governmental offices, but became a part off the University instead.

Honestly, the classes themselves are not that hard, which can be frustrating at times. We also stay on the same topics for a long time, which is getting a bit boring. Although it’s cool to learn the vocabulary about the founding of St. Petersburg, it’s generally not that useful when trying to communicate with St. Petersburg locals about life.

Me between my shoulder angel and devil - one of the more humorous statues in the sculpture garden.

On the other hand, when learning about such topical information, we get to go on short excursions. For example, a week or so ago, our teacher took us on a fieldtrip around the university’s sculpture garden, which is in the courtyard of our building, and has dozens of statues dedicated to Russian writers and authors. The university is spread out in various locations around the city, but the faculty of philology, where we study, is, in my opinion, the most convenient and beautiful of the campuses, considering the building was, at one point, a Czar's palace.

A view of the Faculty of Philology from across the Neva.

I guess I can’t really complain, when I’m getting 6 Russian language credits for the courses I’m taking here in only six weeks. Despite the fact that the university is empty, since it’s summer vacation for the local students, it’s a beautiful place to be in a beautiful city, and every day I find myself asking the same question: “is this real life?”

Statue to Antoine de Saint-Exupery, author of The Little Prince.

St. Petersburg Wren Ten?

2011-07-09T13:10:00.002-04:00

Alex Black does, in fact, exist, much to the surprise of all William and Mary students. (which is more existent, Lithuania or Alex Black? The world may never know.) A couple weeks ago I went out on a Monday night to see him in his a cappella group’s farewell concert for him. Not only do I love a cappella, but also, Alex Black is a pretty cool kid. Furthermore, this concert was a unique opportunity for me to meet some interesting St. Petersburgers that I otherwise wouldn’t have met, and in all likelihood won’t meet again.

Alex has been singing with Voxelle for the past four months or so, first working with him as an English-pronunciation tutor, then joining the group to replace their bass when he quit a few months ago. The group consists of about eight people, and their repertoire is awesome, spanning from Russian folk and pop music, through cartoon themes, all the way to 1940s and 50s American jazz hits like, “Мун Ривер” and “Фивер” (“Moon River” and “Fever”).

Taking place in a small studio space in the center of town, the concert lasted only about an hour, and was accompanied by free champagne and hors d’oeuvres. The space itself was really nice, consisting of about four rooms including one quite large one with a small stage at the front of it. I didn’t catch the whole story of the space, but it seemed to align fairly well with my research project, i.e. it was a space for young people to congregate and create.

Since the concert, Alex has departed for America, leaving Russia behind, but certainly not for good. Both his a cappella group and his own disposition have claimed that he can’t stay away for long. Although my stay in St. Petersburg only overlapped with his for about two weeks, I was glad to see him a couple times and to see some of his life in St. Petersburg. I admit, though, that it will be nice to share William and Mary with him again, for the first time since freshman year, if only for one semester.

Another quick chronology...

2011-07-07T16:04:00.003-04:00

I did this a week or two ago to let you all know how my posts flow together, as well as for my own sanity. Here we are again.

Sunday: Mariinsky Ballet, lunch at Шэмрок (Shamrock), laundry day

Monday: University, Pushkin Apartment Museum, Alex Black's a cappella concert

Tuesday: University, St. Isaac's Cathedral

Wednesday: University, meeting with artists etc. at Pushkinskaya-10

Thursday: University, packing for Moscow

Friday: Depart at 5:30 AM for Moscow by fast train, GUM, Red Square, St. Basil's, Arbat, wandering, crazy parties

Saturday: Lenin's Mausoleum, First McDonald's in Russia, Kremlin, nap, dinner at the Shurik restaurant

Sunday: Dunkin' Donuts adventure, Izmailovo market, fast train home, arrive at midnight

Monday: University, Fourth of July Pie Time

Tuesday: University, Interview at Puhskinskaya-10

Wednesday: University, Interview at Pushkinskaya-10

Thursday: University, Crime and Punishment walking tour

These days are packed with school, research, and my own wanderings. I am still wondering how I ever get sleep.

High Above or Down Below

2011-07-07T15:17:00.007-04:00

Last week we went on an excursion to see St. Isaac's Cathedral, one of the largest Orthodox Cathedrals in Russia, if not the world. It is an iconic site in the city, and its glittery gold dome, which, in form, slightly resembles the dome of St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, can be seen from all over the place.

When I arrive in any city, one of the things I like to do is get to a place of high elevation and see how the city is laid out from above. It's one thing to look at a map, but another entirely to get a bird's eye view of the city. Our trip to the cathedral took place nearly two weeks after our arrival, so it was due time for me to get that perspective. Because St. Petersburg was built on a swamp, there are absolutely, positively no hills. I thought Vilnius was flat, but I happened to live on one of the highest peaks, which gave me a decent view of the city's layout. St. Petersburg is a pancake city, so my trip to St. Isaac's meant everything about understanding the city. Even though the observation deck is only about 150 feet in the air (15 stories is not all that impressive, in my opinion) it gave a clear view over the whole city, and the sun shone over all the sparkly cathedral domes and danced along the canals, giving the area a majestic and magical feel.

A quick shot of me and the city backdrop taken from the dome. Behind me, the bluish building with the orangish roof right on the river is our University building.

After a twenty-minute stay on the observation deck, peppered with shouts of regret that we hadn't brought our video equipment, we headed downstairs to visit the cathedral's interior. Nowadays the cathedral acts as a museum and is only open to worshipers on high holy days, meaning that I felt a lot easier about being a tourist there than at other cathedrals. For the second day in a row, we got a tour guide to give us a tour in Russian, while Sasha translated into English. The inside of the Cathedral was almost as majestic as the view from the top. The frescoed walls were in bad condition during the Soviet Union, so only some of them remain, while others have been restored, and some even replaced by massive, intricate mosaics. Now, I may have already mentioned this, but mosaics to me are phenomenal because they are collages of stone and tile. It might be said that water is eternal and stone is ephemeral, but compared to paper and paint, stone is pretty lasting.

Although the insides have gone through some serious restoration over the years, we learned that the outside has remained essentially the same. The dome was painted with a mixture of mercury and gold, so that the mercury evaporated, leaving the gold bound tightly to the dome, without need for restoration. There are columns that are some 15-20 tons in weight that were erected around the cathedral within hours! St. Isaac's is not only a sight to see, but also a feat of human imagination and strength. Luckily, the Germans agreed, because even during the Siege of Leningrad, during World War II, the Cathedral survived without a blemish, supposedly because the Nazi troops liked to use the dome as a landmark for bombing.

I say again, that I feel no real religious connection to Orthodoxy; however, St. Isaac's as a site of memory, a site of St. Petersburg history, and as a work of art, is a fantastic thing to see. I'm slowly but surely visiting the most significant sites of the city, but it's a shame that I only have six weeks, and I surely won't see them all.

Я вас любил...

2011-07-07T15:06:00.003-04:00

любовь еще быть может,

Everyone knows that Aleksandr Pushkin is Russia's most beloved poet. Schoolchildren learn his poems by heart, and remember them for the rest of their lives. I'm the proud memorizer of a single Pushkin poem (quoted above), which is just enough to impress the best of 'em, when asked if I know who Pushkin is. The fact is, Petersburg is a city of Pushkin's own heart, but his poem, The Bronze Horseman really says it all, so I won't go into detail.

What I will detail, however, is our visit to the Pushkin museum last Monday. Pushkin spent his last years in St. Petersburg, and the apartment in which he lived, just a block or two down the canal from the Winter Palace, has been converted into a beautiful museum that, over two floors and seventeen rooms, describes his life and works.

Unfortunately, all the museum material is in Russian. To remedy this, we hired a tour, and had Sasha translate as we went along. This is not the only time we've done this, and I really think that my Russian is getting better, because even if I don't understand every word they say, I'm pretty sure I'm getting most of what the tour is about before Sasha translates. I even helped pick up a word that he grappled for on a different tour, which was an achievement.

The tour was fairly quick, even though the museum was virtually empty. She pointed out the most important things in each room, and kept us moving past the unimportant things. Some of the museum's exhibits included Pushkin's writing desk and some other furniture from his home. On the whole, I didn't think that his life was all that remarkable. He associated with some sketchy characters, which may have led to his execution, but by some twist of fate did not. He had crazy mutton chops, and he fell in love with every female he saw, which is why is poetry is so romantically wonderful. Seeing as Russia is very appreciative of the fine arts, if we make big generalizations about national art appreciation, it is clear why they would pick such a poet to be a demi-god. That being said, I think I need to perfect my Russian and read more of his poetry before I make my own judgements.

Mariinsky Ballet!

2011-07-07T13:27:00.014-04:00

I hope you are all enjoying this blog, as I catch up on the massive number of posts that I have not yet made. Here is yet another post from an event that happened nearly two weeks ago.

No trip to St. Petersburg is complete without a trip to the Mariinsky Theater to watch a ballet. With that in mind, it's often hard to pick a ballet, because there are so many options. There are the classic Tchaikovsky pieces, like Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake, or the Nutcracker (which they show year-round, rather than just at Christmas), or some more off-the-beaten-path shows. Then, of course, the price varies based on the status of the dancers in the show. The ballet we went to see was a great choice, because it was not a single ballet, but a selection.

The Vagonov Academy of Russian Ballet is something like the official Ballet school of the Mariinsky Theater. Each year, some of the graduating students are invited to join the dance company associated with the theater itself, and at the end of their school year, they present a recital that covers several famous pieces, showcasing their graduating seniors. We managed to get tickets to this graduating concert, which, in reality, wasn't all that hard, because the show was filled with young performers, who were not quite yet professionals.

Truth be told, they could have fooled us. The dancing was phenomenal, and the spectacle of the show's costumes, sets, and lighting contained within the hallowed space of the Mariinsky made a huge impression. I'm no connoisseuse of ballet, so I was probably just star-struck by the magnificence of it all. I recognized only two of the dances, the first was a piece out of Sleeping Beauty, which I saw last year when I was living in Vilnius. The second was the whole third act, which was out of Swan Lake, which, although I haven't seen it, has become particularly iconic since Black Swan came out earlier this year.

Pretty view of the Czar's booth and the theater itself, albeit a bit blurry.

I admit that I'm generally ignorant about ballet, and that the skinny girls in their leotards and tutus don't impress me that much. However, the experience of going to a ballet theater and seeing these young men and women who have committed their entire lives to their art, which is really more a sport than anything else, is really fascinating. I hope to see another performance before I leave, whether it be ballet, theater, or opera, I don't yet know. It's scary to think, though, that three weeks have already passed, leaving me with fewer days than I've already spent here!

The Scene of the Crime (and Punishment)

2011-07-07T12:55:00.003-04:00

Over the course of the past few weeks, we have been reading what many have called "the most St. Petersburg novel." That novel, of course, is Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. I read this novel for the first time when I was a Senior in high school, and I was thrilled to pick it up again in the city where it took place. We finished our class discussions of it yesterday, so today's after-class outing was a walk around the neighborhood where the protagonist, Raskolnikov, lived and experienced both his crime and punishment.

Our tour guide, Marina, was a really wonderful person. When Sasha introduced her to us, she greeted us with a bubbly disposition, but responded that she doubted she would remember our names, because she is generally bad at remembering names, except for the characters of Dostoevsky's books. She led us around the area of the Haymarket, and showed us some places they have been able to identify from the novel.

The interesting thing about Dostoevsky's work, and the thing that Marina emphasized most, is that the book does not give exact street addresses for most sights mentioned. Places like Raskolnikov's building are placed on the corner of S--- street and another, and some 700 paces from another location. This allows the reader to relate the incomplete address to a location in their imagination. Despite that fact, monuments were erected all along our tour route, showing that people have truly adopted some of the locations for fact. There is even a sizable stone monument on one building, which now represents the home of Raskolnikov. To show the acceptance of the sight, people had previously marked the building with graffiti for and against Raskolnikov's crime with statements from "Kill the Bitch!" and "We're with you, Rodion!" to "Why did you do it?" Unfortunately, an angry neighbor has since closed off the apartment's courtyard to visitors, and painted over such graffiti, leaving the memory of Raskolnikov's home to be kept in the statue outside.

It's fascinating to me how the characters in the book seem to truly remain as citizens of St. Petersburg. Their stories remain as a part of Russian literature and the myth of the city. Reading the book in this city, in my first three weeks here, has really brought it to life, and I'm proud to still call it one of my favorites.

New City. Old City. Novgorod.

2011-07-07T12:33:00.015-04:00

Back already two weeks ago, we made a trip out to the Old City of Novgorod, which means "New City." It's just ironic enough to not be all that funny. We had been settled in St. Petersburg, having lived here for just about a week, so the trip out of the city limits to the countryside was really a nice experience.

The morning started off early, at around 8:00, when we headed off on a private bus. The trip takes about three hours, so we were all hoping to get some extra shut-eye during the trip. I had heard that the roads in Russia were bad, but I guess I didn't put much weight on that statement, that is, until I was on this bus, driving to Novgorod. I put my headphones in, closed my eyes, and all I could feels was rocking and bumping. About an hour or two into the trip we stopped for a toilet break. Unfortunately, the toilet was actually a, literally, breath-taking hole in the ground, which left everybody shaken, and kept any of us from getting sleep.

We arrived at the Park Inn Radisson in Novgorod, where we met with our tour guide. She hopped on the bus with us, and immediately started chatting our ears off, in the most informative way possible, about the history of the city, as we drove towards some of the downtown sights. Novgorod is situated on the Volhoff river, in a very rural location, however, because of its access to water, it was a major trading point for a long time, preceding the establishment of St. Petersburg in 1703. It never ceases to amaze me that William and Mary is actually older than this city! Anyway, Novgorod, being an old trading post, is really no more than a hamlet now. I was secretly afraid that it would be the same size as Vilnius, and that it just would seem small in comparison to St. Petersburg's five million, but it is legitimately a very small city.

The sights that we visited were very interesting. Our first stop was a monastery on the outskirts of the city. We learned here briefly about the lifestyle of Orthodox priests in the monastery, and about the tradition of icon painting in Russia. We then drove a bit further down the road to a Colonial-Williamsburg-Style Museum of Wooden Architecture, which showed unique wooden houses that were physically picked up and moved to this museum from the vicinity. The houses were really pretty, and each one was decorated and furnished for a different purpose. I particularly liked the wedding house, in which the table was dressed with a feast, and the only bed in the house was covered with so many comfy blankets, that I almost wanted to jump on and take a nap. Being out in the wilderness was really nice. It seems that whenever I'm in the city, I forget how much I love nature, until I get there and I don't want to leave.

We hopped back on the bus, and drove back to the Radisson for lunch. We arranged the excursion to Novgorod through a travel agency, so our lunch was a full four-course ordeal, including a mayo-heavy salad, delicious borsch, a tasty piece of meat and potatoes, and a dessert. I felt a bit out of place being at the Radisson of all places, and I was particularly put off-kilter by the fact that the employee name-tags were written in the latin alphabet, not cyrillic, and the music they played on the P.A. system was, literally, elevator-music-ified hits from the seventies and eighties.

After lunch, we headed downtown to see the city Kremlin and its surroundings. We saw the outsides of several churches, as well as the inside of one church in particular, St. Sofia's Cathedral. It's very interesting for me, as a Catholic, to be visiting all of these Orthodox churches. Although they are beautiful, I feel guilty having any sort of spiritual experience, and feel uncomfortable being a tourist in a space of worship. The downtown area was really nice, though.

The last thing we spent time looking at was the Monument to the Millenium of Russia, which was installed in 1862. The statue has over 100 figures in it, including famous rulers and writers from the first 1000 years of Russian history, the figure on top, of course, is the mythical Mother Russia.

By the end of our excursion, we had been on our feet and on the bus for quite some time. The bus trip home was no more comfortable, and we were all exhausted. It was a treat, however, to get out of the city for just a few hours, and to experience some of Russia outside its touristy center. Although I'm fairly certain that I never want to drive on those roads ever again.

Belated, but nonetheless...

2011-07-07T12:24:00.003-04:00

Happy Fourth of July!

It's weird being with a group of Americans abroad and celebrating such a day of independence, especially when independence is such a new thing in Russia. We showed up to class in the morning as if it were a normal day, and there were some of us who didn't even remember that Monday was the day! Part of that was because we had arrived home from Moscow at around midnight the night before. We celebrated after class by going out to a cafe called Shtolli, where they sell delicious Russian-style pies, which are more like pastries stuffed with various delicious things. We lingered for over an hour, enjoying each other's company, drinking tea, and wishing each other a Happy Independence Day in Russian, "Поздравляю с Днем Независимости!"

This is my second year in a row without fireworks or any big events. I admit, I miss it. Hopefully I will get a real 4th of July next year, in Boston, during Sokiu Svente!

Vilnius Thoughts: How half of my research project happened in four days

2011-07-06T13:02:00.000-04:00

Despite the fact that I keep updating this blog, I still haven’t caught up to my current situation on my research. It’s frustrating and exciting at the same time, because there is just so much that has happened, and so much still to do. I’ve been in Russia for just about three weeks now, which means I have about three weeks left to go. More importantly, though, three weeks ago I spent four days in Vilnius, Lithuania, and conducted a huge part of my research there, which is what I want to share here.

The goal of my project was to compare two sites in Vilnius and St. Petersburg, and investigate their connection, significance, and legacy in relation to the era of unofficial art during the Soviet Union. (I keep finding new ways to summarize my project, and it keeps coming out differently!) I had established several contacts in Vilnius before going in order to conduct as many interviews as possible while I was there. More importantly, I wanted to capture as much footage as possible of Vilnius and the Vilnius site: the Fluxus Ministerija.

When I arrived in Vilnius on Friday night, I spent the evening with friends reacquainting myself with my surroundings. Saturday morning, however, I almost immediately took to the streets to investigate my site and what I had in store. I spent the better part of the morning walking around the city, and strolled up to the Fluxus Ministerija around 4:00 in the afternoon, to find a concert of a Finnish Gospel choir happening outside. I had yet to get in touch with my contacts upon my arrival, because I hadn’t yet a cell phone, so I enjoyed the concert, observing the people. As luck would have it, however, one my contacts was standing right in front of me. A girl approached me to greet me, and when I explained the project I was conducting, she responded, “our director is right here, maybe you want to talk to him?” That random connection led to an interview that I set up for the following day.

I returned to the Ministerija later that evening to investigate what other events may be going on and to shoot some B-Roll footage. In working on our film projects for the St. Petersburg program, we’ve been taught so much already about documentary filming, yet there is still so much to know. B-Roll footage is neat, though, because it includes all the visuals that go along with interviews, and really helps establish the space of the film. For me, B-Roll footage is just as important as interview material, because my film is about the importance of the space. That evening, I caught not only an outdoor public dance lesson, but also a rehearsal for a concert that was happening the next day. I snagged a couple of walking interviews that evening that resulted in some great material about youth culture at Fluxus Ministerija. The first interview was with a young guy named Vilius, who said that he comes to Fluxus to attend dance classes and to share his photography. He told me that it is a space for artists, because everybody is an artist to some degree, even if not professionally.

The second interview actually led to a much bigger piece of my project. A young gentleman, not much older than me, approached me and asked what I was filming. At the time, I was filming some random concert-rehearsal material from the back of the concert venue. Ignorantly, I asked him if he would be interested in giving me an interview, and he obliged. In his interview, he emphasized the importance of space for creativity, and, despite the fact that Fluxus Ministerija is a temporary project, having a space where young artists can create and share their work for free is really important in preserving the cultural identity of a community. Upon learning his name, Gediminas, I found that he was actually, himself, a fairly well-established musician, and that the concert the next day was happening for his birthday! I got his blessing to film more of the rehearsal, and even the actual concert the following day.

The following day, I had planned to interview Edgaras, the manager of the Ministerija, and we met at around 4:00 PM. Unfortunately, it was at this time that I got first hand experience at technical difficulties. The interview started just fine, we established a space on the helicopter landing pad of the old hospital where Fluxus Ministerija is established, and he was giving me some amazing material, telling me about how a building is just four walls and a roof, it doesn’t mean anything or have any value without the people inside it. About twenty minutes in, however, an angry beeping noise came from the camera, and the battery died. And, of course, as luck would have it, my extra battery was in my friends’ apartment, and my outlet converter was in America. I panicked briefly, but Edgaras, the easy-going fellow that he is, said it was not a problem, and we made plans to pick up the rest of the interview the following day.

I finished my evening by attending two more events at the Fluxus Ministerija. The first was a short black-box theater production of a show that, as far as I know, had no title. Now, any group can perform a black-box show, but I was struck by the casual nature of the group, and the fact that they were able to come together for rehearsals and create such a piece of art for only donations from the audience, which consisted of maybe twenty people. It seems to me that outside universities, it is very hard for groups to perform because there is so little free space. With institutions like Fluxus Ministerija, it offers young people space to showcase their creations. It really is important for people to have space to create.

The following day was, quite literally, filled with interviews. My first one, however, was scheduled for only 2:00 in the afternoon. This interview was conducted with the wife of a well-known Lithuanian-American artist named Vytautas Ignas. His paintings, woodcuts, and linocuts are iconic for many Lithuanian Americans, and some of them even hang in the Lithuanian Embassy in Washington DC. They lived together for a good portion of their lives in a cottage in Connecticut not far from my family’s summerhouse, so I went to visit her under the pretense of seeing her for the first time in several years. About a half an hour into my interview, I pulled out the camera, and just let it roll as I asked her some questions about her husband’s experience as an artist creating somewhat nationally charged art outside the Soviet Union. She offered some great anecdotes, one particularly striking one about an exhibition of his that almost didn’t happen during the 1980s, when he was afraid to display his work in Lithuania. The story echoed so much of my pre-research, that I was glad to get just a glimpse on camera.

The next interview was supposed to be with a Lithuanian art scholar named Elona Lubyte, who works as a curator for the National Art Gallery and as a professor in the Art Academy. I met her in the evening just as she finished watching a day of honors theses defenses, which, as anyone might imagine, meant that she was hardly in a great mood. She refused an interview, because she thought that my topic was too loose and very disconnected. I understood that I may have been undereducated, but I felt taken aback because she would hardly give me the time of day. After a 20 minute, multi-language discussion about why my work was inadequate compared to the honors theses she had been paneling for, she finally warmed up a bit. Although she didn’t give me an interview, she did give me a book called “Quiet Modernism in Lithuania” which will hopefully give me at least some background information for my project, and then she took me out for coffee, where we had a great conversation about other things. At first I was offended that she wouldn’t give the interview, but as my project takes a clearer form, I can see that it would have been difficult to commit to my wishes earlier. She ended up being a great resource, and invited me to e-mail her if I had questions later on.

Later that evening, I met with a family friend for dinner. Rasa Razgaitiene works in the Vilnius City Council with Edgaras. She also is one of the co-directors of the Jonas Mekas Visual Art Gallery, Jonas Mekas being a prominent Fluxus Artist. At dinner, the topic of my research was bound to come up, and I took the opportunity to get some video footage. I set the camera up next to me on the tripod and let it roll as we talked about all sorts of things, including the importance of Fluxus to the Lithuanian identity and the Guggenheim project that was taking place in Vilnius, and why it fell through. She really believes that there is a lot of Vilnius Culture that remains hidden, and it takes the people’s own organization to bring it out to the open. Unfortunately, while older people are still in power, there is little opportunity for artists to emerge, and it is up to institutions like Fluxus Ministerija to give young artists a space to create. After my dinner with her, I went back to Fluxus Ministerija to wrap up my interview with Edgaras. By the end of the night, I was exhausted, and overwhelmed by the fact that I had filled several tapes with interview material.

On Tuesday, the day I left for St. Petersburg, I had very little time to spend on the project. I had completed all the interviews I needed, so I spent some time visiting the works of Lithuanian nonconformist and soviet-era art in the National Gallery. Had I had more time, I might have spent a few hours conducting real research in the Gallery’s reading room, yet, I found myself in a frenzy getting to the train station on-time, less than four full days in Vilnius suddenly behind me.

My time in Vilnius was phenomenal for several reasons. First of all, it had been just under a year since I left the city after having lived there for a year. The weather and the atmosphere were nearly identical, so much so that it felt as if I had never left. Secondly, I was able to manage my time and piece together a lot of video material that will play a huge part in the creation of my video project.

Although the trip was a great success, I learned a lot as well, the hard way. First of all, of course, was to charge the camera before a day out with it. Never again will I try to conduct an interview on half battery life. Second was something that I expected, but wasn’t sure how to deal with: Eastern Europeans are scared to death of official paperwork. Because of that, I ended up getting verbal consent for the use of this footage, rather than written consent. I spent such a long time preparing my participant consent forms in three languages, only to find that interviewees were scared to death of signing their rights away! I suppose I don’t really blame them, but it made my project just a bit more difficult. Thirdly, I learned that it truly pays to be over-prepared for interviews. Considering I felt like an informed visitor when at the Zimmerli museum a few days before, meeting with Elona Lubyte proved to me that no matter how much I think I know, I haven’t yet written a dissertation on this sort of thing, so as far as experts are concerned, I know nothing. I truly have to go into every interview from here on out with prepared questions that try to draw out statements that I want to hear. If I do enough research, I should know what the subject would say, and I just need to find a way to get them to say it.

I have my work cut out for me, with transcribing, translating and subtitling these interviews. My time in Russia is quickly filling up with interviews as well. That, however, is a story for another blog post.

This post was originally made for the Charles Center Summer Research Blog. Check that out at ccsummerresearch.blogs.wm.edu!

Moscow: Dunkin' Donuts and Deal-making

2011-07-04T13:20:00.003-04:00

This past weekend was a whirlwind tour of the biggest, and my new favorite, city in Europe: Moscow. Rather than giving you a full minute-by-minute overview, however, I want to tell my Dunkin’ story.

Dunkin’ donuts is easily my favorite coffee place in the United States. The taste of iced coffee from this café, from any location, is literally my taste of summer. The warmest day of spring is usually accompanied by such a treat. I knew that there were Dunkin’ Donuts cafes in Moscow, because Sasha, when visiting Russian classes to try to recruit people for this year’s program, brought Старбакс and Данкин Донатс coffee mugs to the classes, as samples of “Russian” culture. Although I had already sold my soul to the program, I was excited by the juxtaposition of cultures, and knew that my trip to Moscow would include a visit to a Dunkin’ Donuts and the purchasing of one of those ceramic mugs.

However, it wasn’t that easy. On Friday afternoon, we arrived to Moscow’s main pedestrian shopping area, the Arbat. Within five minutes, the group descended upon the Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts cafes, which were situated across the street from one another. I walked into the shop only to find that everything was written in English, except for the banner outside the restaurant. The straws, the napkins and even the cups of hot coffee warning the drinker about the dangers of hot beverages, were written in English, just like in America. They had souvenir mugs, but only in English, and nothing else. I asked the server if they had anything, and she said no, so I sulked away with my iced coffee.

I was rejected, dejected, but the game was not over. When I expressed my disappointment to Sasha, he suggested that it might be possible to find the ceramic mugs in another location, one that wasn’t located in the tourist center of Moscow. All I would need was time to find such a location. So, on Sunday morning, I checked the Dunkin’ Donuts website for Moscow locations, and made a list of the most convenient locations, before departing on my quest.

I didn’t have to go far, because I found what I was looking for at my first stop. Unfortunately, however, the mug that I wanted was one of their special mugs, only used to serve tea in. I begged the cute Russian boy behind the counter to sell it to me, and he told me it was impossible, until I was just obnoxious enough for him to ask the manager, who also said no. I sat down for a couple minutes, before ordering an iced coffee and making my game plan, when the manager himself took the stage. I ran up to the counter and started explaining myself in a very interesting version of tourist-Russian, explaining that in America they don’t have cups with Dunkin’ Donuts written in Russian on them, and that the chain was founded in Massachusetts, which is where I live. Upon explaining the situation, manager and employee had a secret conversation, and the manager walked away. As I paid for my coffee, the cute Russian boy told me to go to the back of the restaurant, where the manager would cut me a deal. I walked around the corner, and handed the manager 300 roubles, and practically frolicked out of the restaurant with joy.

It seemed like it should have been easy enough for them to sell it to me, or for me to waltz out of the restaurant without their noticing. They could have just as easily given it away and said somebody broke it. On the one hand, it took a surprising amount of effort to make the deal, but on the other, the effort proved my Russian language skills strong, and allowed me to experience a quasi-genuine Russian-black-market deal. Not only did I achieve my goal of getting a Данкин Донатс mug, but also I successfully experienced a real Russian business transaction – one that involved secrecy and quasi-bribes! When all is said and done, my Moscow Dunkin’ Donuts experience was not exactly what I was planning on, but it couldn’t have been better, and I know that I’ll never have that same sort of cultural experience at the Dunkin’ Donuts at home.

Second Hand and Wanderings

2011-07-04T13:12:00.001-04:00

Joyfully stencilled graffiti. Not that I'm a big graffiti fan, or anything.

Being in St. Petersburg for about three weeks, I’ve had plenty of time for both organized and disorganized excursions. On the one hand, I love planned excursions because they are filled with information that I would otherwise only find out if I made the effort to read volumes of history books, which I just don’t have time to do. On the other hand, wandering the city without an itinerary has given me the chance to practice my Russian face (or “метро лицо” / “metro face”), familiarize myself with the city’s layout, and find some hiding places around the city that I would not otherwise find.

Some of these adventures have been on my own and others with friends. One of my first days, I spent quite some time finding my way from St. Catherine’s Catholic church on Nevsky Prospect, to my site of memory, Pushkinskaya-10. The direct route would have taken me straight down Nevsky. Instead, I chose to wander in the neighborhoods to the direct north and south of the boulevard, stumbling upon wedding boutiques, theaters, and even a statue to Adam Mickevicsz.

Statue to Adam Mickievicz tucked down a side street parallel to Nevsky Prospekt.

A more social outing was with my fixer, Anastasia. As a journalism student, she is helping me to familiarize myself with the city, and work out much of the logistical business that I’m doing with my project. After a brief visit to Pushkinskaya-10, we wandered through a neighborhood where there are nine parallel streets, each called “Sovietskaya-Liniya #(1-9).” On this adventures she introduced me to the cheap and delicious Petersburg-traditional donuts, Pishki, and an adorable little second-hand shop called “Спасибо” which means “thank you!”

Garden outside Спасибо! shop. Second hand tires painted charmingly make great planters.

I especially liked the second-hand shopping. There are so many fun things to buy at such shops, especially when you’re outside of your own country. Aside from the selection of lightly used trendy clothes from H&M and other international stores, there were plenty of knick-knacks from Soviet times, many post-soviet books and flicks (including “Питер-fm” one of the first Russian films I ever saw), and some great sweaters that I tried on, only to feel like a character straight out of “Москва Слезам не Верит.” It was on this trip that I bought a purse, that’s a little less bulky than my school book-bag, and Anastasia told me that I could feel good about the purchase, because the store operates as a non-profit, giving money to orphanages!

I think my favorite part about any city is the opportunity to wander and discover. It’s impossible to really understand a place just by visiting the tourist sites, or by following a strict schedule. I admit, that with school, homework, and research, my stay here so far has been very focused, so it has been difficult to find time to sleep and still get to know the city. The fact that the weather is also overwhelmingly varied also takes a toll on my ability to wander. However, I am compelled to live these next three weeks to the best of my ability and to really experience St. Petersburg in all its glory through whatever adventures I have access to.

First and Hopefully Not Last Visit to the Hermitage

2011-07-04T13:01:00.005-04:00

Jes - one of our professors - standing in front of Matisse's The Dance.

Already nearly two weeks ago, we made a big group pilgrimage to one of the most epic art collections in the world – the Hermitage. I can hardly put into words all the feelings I got from our three-hour excursion. It was certainly an experience! We had a guided tour, led by William and Mary’s first ever Russian House tutor, Nadya, who now works as an English-language tour guide all over St. Petersburg. She was able to direct our attention to the most important pieces in the displayed collection and give us the best pieces of background information.

The Peacock Clock, among the many antique gifts preserved from the Imperial Era in the Winter Palace.

The coolest thing I’ve heard about the museum is that, if you were to just pass your eyes over each piece, displayed or not, in the Hermitage collection, it would take you over twelve years. (Side note: “5/6 of all statistics are made up.”) Despite the fact that I don’t remember the exact number, I am overwhelmed by the prospect of just being in the space of that much art. Each gallery was overwhelming because there were pieces that I recognized, names that I recognized, and things I wanted to understand, but couldn’t even take the time to process. We saw pieces by Michaelangelo, Da Vinci, Rembrandt, Velasquez, and all sorts of Impressionists. At last, having taken Art History this past semester, I felt like I understood something of this art, in a way that I never had before. I was thrilled especially by the collection of Impressionist works, and excited to absorb them all into my system.

One of the many epic mosaics installed at the Hermitage. Mosaics are amazing because they are stone collages. Phenomenal.

One of the best parts of the tour was a discussion of a piece by Rembrandt, which had caused quite a scandal back in the 1990s. Apparently, a “mentally ill Lithuanian” came to the museum with flammable materials and a knife, and set the painting afire after slashing through the middle. It took them about twelve years to restore, and the painting still shows some signs of wear. When Nadya told us that the culprit was a Lithuanian, every one in the group turned to look at me, knowing my affinity for all things Lithuanian. I laughed, and found it curious that the nationality of the criminal was considered pertinent to the story. Additionally, I found it funny that because Lithuania is such a small country, all those who share that heritage are linked in the minds of others.

Auguste Rodin's The Age of Bronze - One of the many pieces I recognized from Art History this past semester, although this is a plaster version.

The museum itself is much larger than the Winter Palace, the iconic home of the collection. I found out that as a student of St. Petersburg State University, I actually have access to all the collections for free. That might be awesome if I had more than six weeks in the city, and it would be even better if I actually had unlimited free time. Unfortunately, I don’t, and I will have to treasure the precious hours I had at the Hermitage, and hope beyond hope that I will have the opportunity to return again.

Aliye Parusa - The Night of Crimson Sails

2011-07-04T12:46:00.004-04:00

In Russian folklore there is a story about a poor young girl who dreams of a ship with crimson sails coming to carry her away to happiness. Unfortunately, all around her think she is crazy for holding onto such dreams, until the one day when the ship actually comes. Her happiness and hope stand to represent the moral of holding onto ones dreams, and a festival is held each June to celebrate this story, coinciding with Russia’s high school graduation.

Ready to party! On the streets at around 11:00.

This festival happened on our third day in St. Petersburg, right at the peak of the white nights. Thus, it was the perfect night for us to get out and really celebrate the city and our arrival here. We started the night off appreciating our legal status at our local grocery store, but ended up travelling downtown by metro, where we found the main drag of Nevsky Prospect packed with people, particularly young graduates wearing sashes. We pushed through the crowds, taking it all in, and found that we had to buy tickets to access the main square, where the real celebration was taking place, so we ended up buying tickets off some graduates, who preferred 300 roubles with which to buy alcohol than a ticket to an essentially free concert.

Massive crowds and a never-ending sunset from Nevsky Prospect.

Jetlagged and less than sober, we arrived on the Palace Square to find significantly smaller crowds and realized that the party was probably more hopping on the outside. We settled down in a bar for a while before heading over to watch the fireworks from the riverbank at around 2:00 AM, the darkest point of the evening during the white nights. We made some friends, and as the fireworks ended, the ship with red sails floated by to cheers and loud music - it was really quite a magical moment. Unfortunately, as a group of seven we accidentally lost each other at this point, and the overwhelming number of people meant that cell phone lines were entirely tied up. This meant that from 2:00 until 4:00, when the metro re-opened, we were on our own with not much to do.

I've already posted this picture, but it combines the craziness of Aliye Parusa with the art of mullet growing. What could be better?

A few of us ended up wandering around the streets, seeking out and succeeding in finding a graduate who would willingly part with his “Congratulations” sash to give it to us. We ultimately ended up at Teremok, a fast food restaurant, for tea and snacks, and then walking several miles around downtown. The metro stop from which we were planning on getting home closed down because of massive crowds, so we ended up walking to the next one, which was probably nearly three miles away. Fortunately, despite our exhaustion, there was plenty to see and the sunrise over the Neva was absolutely gorgeous.

Even at its darkest, the night was not completely dark! Here the ship with red sails floats by.

Arriving home at around 5:30 AM, I was hungry and physically exhausted, but happy that I had experienced the wildness of a St. Petersburg White Night to its full potential. I had heard crazy things about the events of Aliye Parusa, and I was glad to have taken part. Such a gathering of people to celebrate the young people finishing school is a pretty neat event, and I only wish that I had had more energy and language skills to see more and connect with more people. Whether I was a tourist to a cultural event, or a real participant doesn’t matter at this point – it was a blast!

One Last June Post // ZENIT

2011-06-30T15:42:00.004-04:00

Last Wednesday (yes, I know, over a week ago) we attended a football match for the St. Petersburg local team, Зенит! Last year, when Robbie came to visit me, was when I first heard of the team, and, since Lietuva doesn't have a football team, and it's just not that popular of a sport in the United States, I decided that I'd be a Zenit fan, at least a little bit.

We took the Metro to get there, which was exciting, because I definitely knew where we were going, even when Sasha didn't. We had to make two transfers to get to the stadium station, which was a zoo, and, ironically, in the same region of the city as the zoo!

After about four or five security checkpoints, we finally got to our seats, which were on the corner of the field, in the front row. Most of us had bought some Zenit gear so we would blend in, and it worked well enough. Each of the sections had its own security checkpoint, and it was so intense that you were unable even to move from section to section. We were seated in section seven, and it would have been impossible for us to even think of visiting another one, not that we had anybody to go visit.

Other than the over-zealous security, there were two other points of note. The first was to our right, in one end-zone of the stadium, the visiting team, Кубань, had a very small section of fans in the stands. Despite that fact, they were surrounded by, I kid you not, a riot squad of about 50 officers with intimidating face masks and clubs, and probably other things that would hurt if you did something stupid.

The second, was at the other end of the stadium, and that was the home-team fan-pit. It was an exploding sea of blue and white, and it was almost frightening. They had an anthem, which they sang, they had cheers, which everybody seemed to know, they knew when to jump all at the same time, which made me feel like I was at a fascist rally. They also had massive flags, one of which even depicted an Icon-style Zenit-Blue Jesus.

Now, the fear that I had may have been because I don't know much about European football culture. I read Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch last year, and got a good idea of its ferocity, but never bore witness. Despite this fear, it was a good time, and, even though the game started at 9:00 PM, the white nights left us enjoying the sunset until the game's end, when Zenit emerged victorious 1-0.

"Nonconformism" and my last pre-departure Adventure (although I've been here three weeks)

2011-06-30T15:34:00.003-04:00

I’ve been in Europe for approximately three weeks now, and have just less than a month left. It’s amazing how quickly time flies, and how much can happen that makes posting to a blog so much more difficult. This blog post has been on my to-do list since the day before I left the states, but various obstacles, from lack of internet-access, through reading and homework assignments, to purposefully getting lost on the streets of St. Petersburg, have gotten in the way. But here I am, mere hours from an early-morning departure for a weekend in Moscow, finally getting one of these blog posts out of my system and off my conscience.

What is “nonconformist art”? That question is half of what my project is trying to answer. The term nonconformist art has been used mostly to describe the non-soviet art of the Soviet Union, and is often used as a synonym for dissident art, alternative art, underground art, unofficial art, and avant gard art, although its connection to the Russian avant gard art movement is weak, considering the fact that the Russian avant gard was strongest during the early 20^th century, before the revolution. I’m finding that it is best to describe it by what it is not: Socialist Realist, an ideology, which glorifies the “Eureka” moment that delinquent Socialists have when they see the glories of Socialism, with the help of an experienced Socialist mentor. Because Socialist Realism was adopted as the “official” art of the Soviet Union, all art that did not fit the bill was considered illegal, and has since taken on the names listed above. I, personally, by comparing this art to Socialist Realist “Official” art, find that the appropriate genre is “Unofficial” art.

Whatever the name is there is no clear artistic trend or style between the art pieces, especially because so many of the paintings, sculptures, and installations are built on the irony of the Soviet Union. While some artists made very somber, religious works, that were deemed unofficial because the USSR was officially atheist, others made ironic pieces that used a style similar to the Socialist Realist style, but made a serious anti-government statement, and still others drew from foreign, modernistic styles to create masterpieces that simply didn’t fit the official plans. One of my favorite styles that I’ve discovered outside of the Socialist Realist official art, is Sots-Art, a movement which borrowed ideas from Andy Warhol’s Pop-Art, taking Party-Leaders’ faces and turning them Technicolor. (As an aside, working in New York in the 1960s, Warhol was friendly with some of the artists associated with the Fluxus movement. Funny how things go around!).

Luckily for me, there are plenty of opportunities both in the United States and here abroad to find examples of the seemingly never-ending supply of Unofficial Art. The biggest, and probably most important one, is located at the Zimmerli Museum at Rutgers University. I stumbled upon the Norton Dodge Collection of Nonconformist Art when I realized that almost every book published about the art style was out of Rutgers University Press. Norton Dodge is an American Economist who was conducting research in the Soviet Union in the 1960s through 1980s. As a side project, he collected pieces of illegal, unofficial art, and smuggled thousands of pieces out of the country. In the early 2000s he donated the collection to the Zimmerli Museum, and, as I’ve conducted my interviews, I’ve found out that anybody who knows anything about Unofficial art, knows about the Dodge Collection.

Since my flight to Vilnius was out of Newark, I casually mentioned to my mom that it would be a good research opportunity to visit the museum, and she agreed. With a couple of e-mails sent, I was able to get a tour of the exhibited collection from Dr. Adrian Barr, one of the curators at the museum!

We arrived at the museum around 2:00, and I pulled out a tape recorder, so I could preserve the tour without filming. Although it would have been a great addition to my documentary, I was unable to get rights to film the exhibition, but that didn’t matter to me. Just to be in the presence of all the art that I had read about was a phenomenal opportunity.

For the most part, I felt really professional when touring the collection. All of my reading paid off when my tour turned into a real dialogue of Russian art. Dr. Barr was really informative, and was able to answer some of the questions I had been wondering about. He told me that there were very few Nationalist trends in most of the art scenes, even outside of Russia, in the Baltic States, and that, although at times it seems like the artists are drawing from external artistic movements, they had very little connection to or influence from these other countries.

Now that I’m in St. Petersburg, I am getting to actually meet some of these artists, and explore galleries where the art is displayed. Having finally made contact with the people at Pushkinskaya-10 (more on that later) I was told of a new exhibition that’s taking place in Peter and Paul Fortress (one of the most important parts of the city) that will be displaying all sorts of art by the artists of Pushkinskaya-10. I’ve even been given full rights to film the exhibition opening next Monday, as long as I share all of my raw footage with the Art Center! The name of the exhibition? “St. Petersburg Free Culture in Russia’s Museums.” When I had the invitation in my hand and read the title, I squealed, and told my contact that it must be fate, because the title of my project, as of right now, is “Free Culture in the Former Soviet Union.”

As usual, I am ending this post with promises of more posts and more pictures. I have two big interviews coming up next week that I really need to prepare questions for on top of a three-day trip to Moscow. My project takes more shape with each day and I can’t believe that this city is real and that I am actually here for another four weeks.

Born to Run?

2011-06-28T12:59:00.003-04:00

I packed my running shoes and brought them to Russia with me only on a string-like hope that I might have the courage and time to use them. Fortunately, having a member of the W&M Cross-Country Team here in St. Petersburg with me has motivated me a little bit. Where as he runs ten miles per day, I find myself running maybe 3-4 miles twice a week. Even those short little runs, however, have given me a bit of an appreciation for running culture here in Russia.

In Vilnius, it was very rare for me to see people running for exercise. Those who saw me running on a regular basis normally gave me funny looks, but kept on walking. I'm stunned to find that here in Russia, running is, for the most part, widely accepted. For the few runs that I have taken, I've only been hollered at twice, although I do get the occasional double-take, wondering what I'm doing, but I try to assume that it is my t-shirt, which has "I AM W&M" in big, Latin-alphabet letters written across the chest.

In fact, I find that running culture here is actually quite popular. Each day I see somebody running, and each in a different state of body shape and different crazy outfit. I see plenty of people in brightly-colored, coordinated track-suits, as well as people in short-shorts and sports bras. If nothing else, Russians are realizing the value of running, because it costs less than a membership at an expensive sports club. I'm glad that I don't stick out like a sore thumb quite like I did in Vilnius, and, on my honor, I will continue to take advantage of St. Petersburg's beauty on foot while I can!

Надя, Моя Русская Мама

2011-06-28T12:24:00.004-04:00

Translation: Nadya, My Russian Mom.

All of my family and friends in America were really scared when I told them that I was staying with a real Russian family in St. Petersburg, and they were comforted by the fact that I would have company on this adventure. I must say that I, myself, was not at all scared. In fact, I was looking forward to the task and almost (just a little bit) disappointed that I wasn't tackling it myself. Now that I've been here for two weeks, all I can say is that I'm more than happy to be in my living situation, especially when hearing the stories of the other students from our William and Mary program.

Our apartment is quite large. There are three bedrooms, a small living room with a balcony, a mud room, and a kitchen. Caitlin and I each have our own, quite comfortable, bedroom. I chose the smaller of the two rooms, which has a very comfortable bed, a wardrobe, a desk and a small sewing table, which I have been using as my vanity. Our rooms overlook the courtyard of the apartment complex in which we live, and, being on the fourth floor, consists mostly of birch trees.

There are four of us living in the apartment, including myself, Caitlin, Nadya, and her 20-year-old daughter Lena, who doesn't really interact with us at all. Nadya and Lena share one of the bedrooms, in which they keep their computer and other things, and, when not in their room, are often out and about, or in the kitchen, or in the living room watching television. During the school year, Nadya works in the administration of our large apartment complex, and at the neighborhood kindergarten. Unfortunately, we don't actually know what Lena does, despite the fact that she is our age.

Fortunately, Nadya has had international students stay with her before, which means that she's used to the general routine. She, in fact, speaks a bit of English, and, although most of the words are not actually useful, it is quite cute when she uses them. She calls us for breakfast and dinner at about the same time every day, breakfast at 8:45 and dinner at 7, and she feeds us quite delicious food. Breakfast usually consists of some sort of bread or grain and cheese and meat, or блины (pancakes), or eggs and булочки (buns filled with either green onions or cabbage). Dinner is consistently good and, thankfully, has a good variety of general "European" food and "Russian" food. My favorite things so far have been a cucumber and dill salad, borscht, and a simple pork and fried squash dish. Of course, each meal is accompanied by black tea. The best thing, is that she is amazingly accommodating to the things we won't eat, which, in my case, is only dishes with lots of conspicuous mushrooms, and in Caitlin's case, includes raw carrots, mayonnaise, and hard-boiled eggs.

In addition to great dinners, we have great dinner conversations. We have a homework assignment due in two days about Russian recipes, so, I asked her to share one with us. This led to her pulling out a cookbook published in 1951 (a "Stalin-Era" book, she noted) that had a very politically-charged preface, and a great overview of Russian cuisine.

Several shots of me posing with The Book of Tasty and Healthy Food by the Russian Julia Child. (1) The Cover of the book (2) The Beer Page (3) The Mushroom Page (4) Who would have thought that Chickens would also be Socialist Realist?

Nadya is also accommodating regarding our coming-and-going. In the evenings, if and when we go out, we tend to not come back too late, but she makes it clear that when she is awake and home, we should ring the doorbell. In the even that she is not at home or we come home late, we have keys that let us into the house.

Despite our understandings, we do have our Russian-cultural-adventures at home. For example, we have a washing machine in the house, so I was really hoping that she would let us do our laundry here. Instead, she had us make the short ten-minute walk to the student's laundromat, where it cost about $6 a load to do our laundry. On the bright side, the laundromat did have a dryer, which I couldn't say for our apartment. Unfortunately, it took me three trips to the laundromat, laundry in tote, to figure out exactly how the place worked, which left both Nadya (and me, actually) seriously questioning my ability to function as a human being.

Ultimately, compared to some of our comrades, I think that Caitlin and I have the best home stay situation. We live in a huge apartment with very accommodating hosts, who do more than sit around at home all day, and are having a great time learning to use our Russian in real-life situations. I'm really excited to see how much more my russian will improve while living here in the next four weeks, although it's shocking to see that two weeks have already gone by!

No such thing as free lunch.

2011-06-28T01:08:00.002-04:00

But how about Free Sting?

Our first night together in St. Petersburg was bound to be an awesome one as soon as the director of the Philological Faculty at St. Petersburg State University told us that Sting was performing for Free on the Palace Square that evening at 8 o'clock in honor of the World Economic Forum that St. Petersburg was hosting. We decided to load up with some Russian spirit and head down to the palace square, while simultaneously testing our skills riding the public bus system.

I took this picture from the public restroom truck. In such a massive crowd, I was surprised we didn't lose each other! Furthermore, I love the guy in the "Police" t-shirt.

We were not going because we are necessarily big Sting fans. In fact, there was more than one person among the five of us who went, who were positive they didn't know a single Sting song, despite the poor rendition of "Roxanne" we used to jog their memories. When we finally got to the Palace Square, however, any chance we had of actually seeing the performer was slight. The crowds were massive and the square was filled with emotional Russians singing or mouthing along to the famous English singer. We mulled around in the crowd a bit, and, for lack of dancing and adventures, moved along after taking a couple of pictures of the crowd, the Winter Palace, and the giants screens onto which Sting's face was shining over the heads of thousands of people.

You can almost almost see Sting on the screen in front of the stage in this picture. Although we couldn't see him, we could certainly hear him.

All in all, an amazing first night. None of us thought that we would stumble upon a free concert on our first real night in St. Petersburg. Despite the fact that we aren't Sting's biggest fans, we learned that, although there is no such thing as a free lunch, there may be such a thing as a free concert.

Quick Chronology / What I've Been Up To.

2011-06-25T13:12:00.003-04:00

I would really like to write pages and pages about all that I've done so far, but it truly is difficult to do so. I want to give a quick run-down now of the past ten days, and I will elaborate on the big things later.

Wednesday: We arrived in St. Petersburg. I slept.

Thursday: We registered at the university, had lunch, and saw STING in concert for free!

Friday: First day of classes, brief adventures downtown, and drinking on the canal in the evening.

Saturday: Hop-on-Hop-off bus tour of St. Petersburg, lunch, hanging out, and Алые Паруса!

Sunday: Mass, visiting Пушкинская-10, hanging with Alex Black, and homework.

Monday: Russian class, class with Sasha (we watched "The Amazing Adventures of Italians in Russia"), home to do homework.

Tuesday: Classes, meetings with our fixers, "classy" Tuesday-night partying at a bar called SPb.

Wednesday: Classes, wandered around downtown for a while, Зенит football game, hanging late night at Кафе Дубай.

Thursday: Russian class, tour at the Hermitage, extreme exhaustion and bed before midnight.

Friday: Russian class, adventures with my fixer, further wanderings and bed before midnight.

Saturday: Day trip to Novgorod, too much time on a mini-bus and partying at a cafe called Алеша.

I will surely expand on much of this when I can, but I wanted to record this chronology for my own sake, and for yours too! There is so much going on, and I don't always have the time or patience to record these thoughts on my blog. Eventually, it will all be here.

A long year - thoughts on the bus

2011-06-25T13:04:00.004-04:00

Snow?

2011-06-24T13:30:00.005-04:00

No!

I looked out my window yesterday morning to see little white puffs flying through the air. In shock, I nearly screamed, asking myself why on Earth someone would want to live in a country where it snows in June. I put on my glasses, and the shock wore off as I realized that what I was seeing was some sort of white pollen spores. I don't actually know what it is, but whatever it is, it's tree sperm, a.k.a. GROSS!

We had had this sort of stuff in Williamsburg back in April, then in Boston in May, but I feel like I'm being consistently pursued by these disgusting flying cotton balls. Not only do they make my allergies act up, but they're not all that comfortable to run through, as they fly down your throat. According to my host mom, however, the puffs are supposed to mean that the weather is good, which has been largely true, and you have to take that to heart when people say St. Petersburg has two seasons: Winter and July. Whatever the season, all I can say is that I am I glad I bought whole bottles of Claritin and Benadryl with me.

Friends don't let Friends date Mullets

2011-06-24T12:48:00.005-04:00

This is a proverb that I've been told since about eighth grade. Fortunately, in the safe environment of suburban Massachusetts, I was largely able to live without seeing much of the infamous hairstyle. Unfortunately, due to Russian pop sensation, Дима Билан, the style has hit the streets of St. Petersburg like corsets did back in the day, only slightly less painful to wear.

So, of course, we, the American Cultural Ambassadors we are, have made a game of it. For the past week, we have made it our quest to seek out the best and the boldest mullets we can find. I was able to successfully capture 18 photographs, two of these containing double mullets, giving me two points. With a total of 20, I might stand pretty strong in the race. For your viewing pleasure, here are some of the highlights.

One of my favorites, this photo was actually, I admit, taken for the magic "Titanic" moment this gentleman is having, standing on the street lamp. It wasn't until later that I noticed the epic mullet in the foreground.

Call me a creeper, but I took this picture of Sophie and I so I could capture the PDA mullet in the background. How cute!

This ball-boy at the Зенит Football Game was sporting a classy mullet. He was also very good at his job. What a champ!

Again, I used photographing Sophie as a cover when snapping this classy pony-tailed mullet outside the Hermitage.

Getting the hang of things

2011-06-22T17:59:00.003-04:00

Today, after classes got out, I was determined to get to know the city a little bit better. There are so many things that I don't yet know, and I feel like I've been restricting myself to the same neighborhoods, if only because we live and study on Vasilievsky Island. There's something about those draw bridges drawing up at night that makes me feel a bit safer if I just stay at or around home.

My hair up in a high bun, sunglasses on, and my denim jacket buttoned up with the collar popped, I stepped off the bus with a confident stride, and started an afternoon of absurd wanderings all over the Fontanka area. It's a touristy area, but not too much so, and I tried my best to fit in by wearing my Russian face (the one where I don't smile) for almost the entire afternoon.

And it worked.

Three people stopped me to ask for directions; each time I responded with a simple, Russian, "I don't know" and continued on my way. Even if my Russian language skills are weak, at least I have the Eastern European attitude down pretty tight.

First Weeks and Fixers

2011-06-21T12:25:00.002-04:00

We are here, we are learning on our feet, and we have, in the past week, survived quite a bit. From fashion emergencies, through public transportation adventures, all the way to unreliable weather reports and border patrol, the country that seemed so faraway and off-limits is finally at our fingertips.

There are, of course, tons of details and daily events that I could describe, but I’m writing this post about the experiences we had today. Although they weren’t the epitome of excitement, it was a good reminder that our stay in St. Petersburg is academic in nature, but that academics are a lot more than sitting in a classroom.

This morning started off as usual. Caitlin and I were called to breakfast by our host mom at a quarter to 9, and we shuffled in, half-dressed, to a plate of cheesy-toast, boiled eggs, and, of course, black tea. I know already, even after a week that the taste of black tea will from now until the end of my life remind me of my time in St. Petersburg. We ate fairly quickly, finished getting dressed, and left the house just in time to wait at the bus stop for a full ten minutes before our “reliable” bus number 7 came to pick us up.

We arrived just in time for our Russian language class to begin. By some magical twist of fortune, the eight members of our program are all in the same language class, despite our varied levels of language skills. We have a great deal of fun between our conversation and phonetics classes, helping each other describe to our professors what life in America is like (the dining hall at St. Petersburg State is only open for lunch, and the menu is entirely a la carte, so the block-100 meal plan makes no sense at all), and grappling for Russian words that we thought we knew (unfortunately, Irina didn’t hammer into our heads the difference between “изучать” and “учиться” as hard as she thought she did).

After our hour-long lunch break at the dining hall, we returned to our practically private class-room, in a section of the University called the Labyrinth (of course, they want the international students to feel as lost as possible), to have our first lecture with Jes, William and Mary’s Resident Filmmaker. Jes climbed on board our study abroad program to make our research projects more exciting than a simple ten-page paper, by helping us to create short-subject documentaries about various sites of memory in St. Petersburg. In preparation for such a feat, we made two-minute documentaries back on William and Mary’s campus, but now, in St. Petersburg, we are up against not only the massive city, a significant language barrier, and a five-week time limit.

Thankfully, we have a lot of help accomplishing all that we want to accomplish here in St. Petersburg, and that’s what today’s lecture was about. Aside from the eight students and two professors in the classroom, we had four visitors today; four students from the Journalism faculty of St. Petersburg State University. These four students, our “fixers,” are here to help us navigate the city and establish more significant contacts associated with our sites of memory.

After we nervously introduced ourselves to each other as a group and Jes made some opening remarks, we broke off into our individual groups to discuss the early logistics of our adventures. Suddenly, my research project about the Art Center at Pushkinskaya-10 felt so much more real. Our fixer, Anastasia, is a second year student at the University, and, at 18 years old, seems to want nothing more than to be on the screen as a television journalist, but is also knowledgeable about photography. To put icing on the cake, she also worked as a St. Petersburg tour guide for a year, so she knows not only about the city’s history, but also about the differences between tourists and locals. She gave us a good idea about where we should head with our projects, and we’ve already made plans to go on an outing this Friday to both Caitlin’s site, Mikhail Chemiakin’s Monument to Peter the Great in the Peter and Paul Fortress, and to mine, the Art Center.

“Freedom is Space for the Spirit” seems to capture the aim of my research project with accuracy. No surprise that I found these banners flying at Pushkinskaya-10, when I first visited the site on Sunday.

I feel like we really, as researchers, have arrived in Petersburg with many preconceived notions about the status of our sites. Despite all of our pre-research, the conceptions of these sites of memory are really not accessible through English-language tourist guides. Who would have thought? With the help of our new Russian friends, I think we’ll be able to achieve a new level of understanding of what our site of memory means to St. Petersburg as a diverse community, spanning generations and ideologies. There is so much more for us to learn and do, that five weeks hardly seems like enough. Wish us luck!

This entry was also posted to the St. Petersburg Study Abroad Blog. To read more about the Adventures of William and Mary Students in St. Petersburg, visit us there!

Pre-Departure Research Adventures

2011-06-20T12:16:00.004-04:00

The last two weeks have literally been two of the most busy and exciting weeks of my life, so much so, that I’m almost surprised that 75% of that excitement is research-based. I’m currently writing from St. Petersburg, Russia, where I’ve finally settled into an exquisite home-stay apartment; however, in the past two weeks, I have spent serious time at home, in New Jersey, visiting the Zimmerli Museum at Rutgers University, and in Vilnius, Lithuania. This blog post, in the interest of saving myself time and sanity, will focus on the end of my stay in the states and what strides I was able to make in my research pre-departure.

Most of my time at home, as I mentioned in my last post, was spent working on pre-departure research. This involved reading as much as possible about art during the Soviet Union, so that, when meeting with my interviewees, I would not sound like an uneducated moron who jumped onto this project only to snag a $3,000 check and frolic in Europe for six weeks. Fortunately for me, this research material is everything I proposed in my project and more, like I described in my last post. I spent some time at the Boston Public Library and at home, scouring books and browsing internet sites of museums and galleries, learning names and seeking contacts, so that upon my arrival in Vilnius and St. Petersburg, I could make the most of my short stay.

In addition to conducting this pre-departure reading research, I spent a great deal of time working on my Protection of Human Subjects Protocol and Consent form. Back in March when I was writing my project proposal, it was something that nearly turned me away from the project. The day before the proposal was due, I met with my advisor to discuss the protocol and what needed to be done. The first draft I submitted was actually even rejected, which surprised and shocked me, but with some help from my advisor and editing, and a better idea of why such a form was needed, I was able to come up with an acceptable English-language consent form.

My project, however, was not to be conducted among English-speaking interviewees, less so English-reading individuals! Therefore, the rest of my pre-departure time was spent translating and editing my English consent form into both Russian and Lithuanian. To do this, I found myself pushed up against a wall. As far as the Russian went, I had a lot of fun translating the document myself, and used a variety of resources to make sure it was correct. I first contacted a friend, Jacob, who conducted a Charles Center Research Project in Russia last year, and asked if I could borrow his consent form, in order to understand the vocabulary and check some of my grammar tenses. He obliged, and I combined my document and his before forwarding the form onto my advisor, who made some final edits and then read through it with me on Skype to make sure that I could pronounce all of the words that were used. I felt a bit uncomfortable when working on the translations, though. It made me feel a bit nervous about my weak Russian language skills, but as I continued to work, I reminded myself that the reason I’m going to Russia is to practice, and that, after a mere two years of study, nobody is expected to be fluent in a language

The Lithuanian translation, on the other hand, was a much different experience. Having practiced the language since a young age, I am familiar with the flow of the language and the sound of literature and vernacular conversation. Formal writing, however, was introduced to me only last year when I studied at Vilnius University. Writing an official-like document was something I knew would be a challenge, so I gave it a lot of thought. Ultimately, though, I knew I would need an editor, and not just my parents or grandparents, who taught me their own versions of Immigrant-American-Lithuanian. Instead, I contacted my friend, Lina, who graduated last year from the Law Faculty at Mykolas Romeris University in Vilnius. With her knowledge of official Lithuanian, my consent form turned into a much more formal document. Additionally, she offered her own comments on my translations. The first was that my dictionary-in-hand translation of the document wasn’t that bad; only it read like a direct translation in some places, making it sound very American. The second was that the consent form as a concept is a very American thing, which was interesting, because, although it is required for an American research project, my interview subjects might be a little bit intimidated by such a form for its official-ness. For the purpose of satisfying your curiosity regarding what the Lithuanian and Russian languages look like PDFs of the consent forms in English, Russian and Lithuanian are available here.

With pre-reading and translations done, I had only to leave for my European adventures. I packed my bags with clothes and souvenirs for family and friends abroad, particularly those who were hosting me. The last thing I wanted to do before leaving home was to interview a friend of mine, so I could get some practice on the video equipment and make sure it worked. Because all of the students on the St. Petersburg Study Abroad Program are making video research projects, I had no trouble borrowing video equipment from Swem before leaving Williamsburg. Once I got home, however, the pelican case with the video equipment nestled inside was sitting on my bureau, waiting to hit the skies.

I had one friend at home who I hoped to interview, and was Robbie, a recent graduate of Connecticut College, who spent part of his junior year studying abroad in St. Petersburg. During his travels, he actually came to visit me in Vilnius, and I spent a weekend with him sharing my city. One of the things we experienced together that weekend was the opening of the Fluxus Ministerija. My interview with him was actually very informal – he stopped by my house the day before I left and we spent an hour or so walking around my neighborhood, as I asked him questions about surviving in St. Petersburg and his experiences there. When we returned to my house, I set up the camera in my living room and shot him a couple of questions about his experiences having visited both the Fluxus Ministerija and the Pushkinskaya-10 Art Center, as well as about his understanding of nonconformist art and the limitations of the Soviet Union. Having done theater with me in high school, he was very comfortable and casual in front of the camera, and, thankfully, forgiving when the phone started to ring. Once I conquered that first interview and understood the operations of the video equipment, I felt much better about my departure the following day.

I think that’s about enough for one, quite long, blog post. As I started off saying, so much has happened in the past two weeks, that one blog post cannot contain it all. Look forward to upcoming blog posts about the Dodge Collection of Nonconformist Art, my four days in Vilnius, and my first impressions of the Pushkinskaya-10 Art Center. Until then, I hope everybody else is having as much luck as I am on his or her projects! До свидания!

This entry was originally posted to the Charles Center Summer Research blog. Read more about W&M research projects and opportunities here.

New Regime LT

2011-06-18T10:27:00.003-04:00

I'm sorry if any of you were expecting any sort of cohesive order to the posts in this blog, because there will, in all likelihood, be none.

When I was in Lithuania and conducting interviews for my research I met some very interesting people, and talked to them about the functioning of youth culture in the Fluxus Ministerija in Vilnius. Of note, I spoke with city council member and resident/manager of Fluxus Ministerija, Edgaras Stanisauskas, and musician, Gediminas Gelgotas. Since then, I have browsed facebook, decided to add these two interviewees as friends, and discovered that they are both quite young. One born in 1987, the other in 1986.

Now, it shouldn't be that surprising that such young people are involved in such environments as Fluxus Ministerija. My research has led me to discover that the functioning of the space is largely orchestrated by young people, because they can otherwise not afford to buy or rent creative space. Likewise, it shouldn't be surprising that such a young person is in the city council, since, not only is Vilnius a fairly small city, but even in Williamsburg, an undergraduate William and Mary student was elected to the city council.

What surprised me about discovering their ages was the way they measure up to the country's history. When Lithuania declared its independence in 1990, these two individuals were only 3 and 4 years old, meaning that they, most likely, have little recollection of the functioning government of the Soviet Union. This, of course, does not necessarily mean anything with regard to their politics or behavior, but it made me wonder, regardless. Is the older generation on its way out? Do they want young people in, or are they just the ones who want the responsibility? Lithuanian politics are obviously in a weird place, but I was really glad to see that the young generation is ready to take the lead. Bravo, Lietuva!

Вот это да! Welcome to Russia. (200th Post!!!)

2011-06-18T08:29:00.003-04:00

Not only will you all be glad to hear that I’ve made it safely to Russia, but you should also be glad to join me on this wonderful occasion of monikawithak.blogspot.com’s 200^th blog post! I would gladly pass around glasses of Russian hospitality were you all here to celebrate with me, but, instead, I will celebrate with friends on the canals of Vasilievsky Island this evening, as we enjoy the white nights of Russia’s summer.

My first few days here have been absolutely remarkable, though I’m not sure it’s necessary to elaborate by writing a blow-by-blow account of the past 72 hours, as I did for my all-too-brief Vilnius adventures. Instead, I will treat you to a selection of vignettes that will hopefully entice you to stay for the next 200 posts!

The biggest surprise that I had upon my arrival in St. Petersburg was probably a bigger surprise than it should have been. Having grown up in Boston, and lived in Vilnius, I am accustomed to conquering cities on my own, with confidence. However, St. Petersburg is absolutely more massive than I ever could have imagined. I was picked up from the Vitebsky Train Station, one of several major train stations in the city, at 9:20 AM on Wednesday, after my 14-hour overnight train ride from Vilnius. The driver, who declined to humor my poor language skills, took nearly 45 minutes to drive me directly through the city to my home-stay apartment. My host mom, Nadya, invited me in, allowed me to pack, and offered me tea, which I accepted with gratitude. Afterwards, I essentially crashed, settling down on my bed with my copy of Crime and Punishment and falling asleep much faster than I thought I would for 11:00 in the morning.

When Caitlin, my flatmate, arrived around 2:00, we said hello, and she took a nap as well. We made one outing later in the afternoon to buy some large bottles of water (tap water is not particularly safe in Russia, from what we’ve been told). We spent most of the evening hanging out on our own, and went to bed fairly early. Since that day we’ve been much busier, and I long to take a nap like the one I took that first day.

Nadya, our homestay mom, is amazing, and our apartment is gorgeous. Caitlin and I each have our own comfortable rooms, with beds, desks and closet space to spare. Nadya gives us both breakfast and dinner, always including tea and multiple delicious options, taking care to leave out the things that we won’t eat; no mushrooms for me, and neither carrots, nor mayonnaise for Caitlin. With us lives Nadya’s 20 year-old daughter, as well, Lena, who mostly keeps to herself. It’s obvious that Nadya has hosted students before, because she is very understanding of the fact that our Russian is very poor and that our grasp of Russian culture is weak. She does, however, recognize and respect my Lithuanian roots, which seems to help with our interaction.

Our apartment is located very close to the Gulf of Finland on Vasilievsky Island, one of the largest of the islands that make up St. Petersburg. We live about a fifteen-minute walk from the end of the Metro line, by the station Primorskaya. That was where we met on the first day of our group adventures. Who else did we happen to meet there, but the infamous Alex Black, with whom I’ve had more European, than American, encounters in the past year. He was on his way to somewhere exciting, but to turn around, not having been in St. Petersburg more than a full day, to get a hug from him, was a shock. I hope I see him one more time before he leaves the city!

We’ve spent most of our time in St. Petersburg between three metro stations on the same line. It’s one hint as to how absolutely massive the city is. Since we live at Primorskaya, the end of the line, it’s one stop further to the stop closest to the University, which is also on our island, and just one stop further to Nevskiy Prospekt, the main drag and tourist area of the city. According to Professor Prokhorov, we need not familiarize ourselves with other areas, because those are really the most important stops.

Having only spent three days in the city so far, I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the size of the city and my surroundings. I’m thrilled to be here, but I want to be able to really understand the city, and I’m afraid that six weeks is hardly enough to accomplish such a task. Where as in Vilnius, I learned the streets as I walked them, and found new corners to visit every day, in St. Petersburg I have many more streets to see, and not enough time to try to understand. It doesn’t help that I have class for nearly six hours a day, Monday through Thursday. Whatever challenges I come up against, though, I know that I will be able to accomplish a lot here in St. Petersburg, with regard to my language skills and my knowledge of everything Russian. I can hardly believe that I’m actually here, and every new successful encounter is one more step to conquering this city. Bring it on, Russia!

Vilnius Adventures: Day 4 of 4

2011-06-17T10:47:00.001-04:00

I didn’t notice this when I was living there, but nothing in Vilnius opens until noon. Thus, I was stuck in a bit of a predicament when I was trying to cram the rest of Vilnius into a mere six hours between noon and my train’s departure at 18.16. The day started early, with a ride downtown, and a walk toward Užupis, one of my favorite neighborhoods. Unfortunately, though, everything seemed to be closed. Luckily, though, I found a hair salon that wasn’t, and I managed to get my haircut, like I’ve been meaning to for the past week.

After a quick and cheap haircut, I got an early lunch of šaltibarščiai and švyturys baltas at Užupio Kavinė in memory of Dave’s and my regular after-class beer adventures there. I then took the bus to the National Art Gallery, where I did a quick run-through of the permanent collection, in order to see the more modern art, and get an idea of what was being produced during the Soviet era, the things that are relevant to my project. I wish I could have spent more time there, but I had some things I still wanted to do. I took the bus back downtown, and wandered some design galleries and shops that I had been meaning to visit, but much to my dismay, I found nothing to buy. On the bright side, I didn’t spend the money.

I ended up stopping for a second lunch, when hunger struck again around 3.30, when Rasa called me at last. We had a bit of a hand-off to complete, and, because she was preparing to go to Kaunas for the night, she sent the Mayor’s chauffeur to the café where I was eating. He gave me a copy of Illegal Living, a book about SoHo’s creation and the Fluxus movement, and I handed off two bags of Hershey’s kisses that were sent to her through me from the Razgaitis family, as one of her guilty American pleasures.

By this time, it was past 4:00, and I had just about two hours to prepare for my trip. I went grocery shopping at Rimi for my dinner foods, and then raced home to finish packing my bags. My time in Vilnius came to such a quick end that my Lithuanian-me disappeared, and the panicking-American-me made a quick appearance. With luck, I was able to make it to the train, and begin the next part of this summer’s European adventure.

I can hardly believe that I spent a brief four days in Vilnius. I tell people it was five, but it was actually less than four, when counting the hours. The time I spent there made me feel that Vilnius truly is my city, and I wonder with great curiosity what the occasion of my next visit will be. Whether its distant from now, or very soon, for business or for pleasure, I know that Vilnius is another home for me, and, as someone born and raised in the United States, it feels phenomenal to be able to say that.