She is not the least bit shy, she ditched her mom and came bounding up to us demanding scratches when she heard the cars in the driveway. Here she is, running around and showing off:
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Baby Mule! Auberry, CA June 16, 2010
While I was in Prather attending firefighter training for the Forest Service, my friend Debbie invited me over to meet Maya, her month old mule. So cute!
She is not the least bit shy, she ditched her mom and came bounding up to us demanding scratches when she heard the cars in the driveway. Here she is, running around and showing off:
She is not the least bit shy, she ditched her mom and came bounding up to us demanding scratches when she heard the cars in the driveway. Here she is, running around and showing off:
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Yosemite and Lee Vining, June 7-10, 2010
I went to Region 5 of the Forest Service's Wilderness Ranger Academy held in Lee Vining June 8-11. I left on Monday after work and ran into four bear jams in Yosemite just before dusk. In this photo, there is a bear in the meadow, in the middle of that group of snags near the center of the photo.
There is still a lot of snow in Tuolumne Meadows:
We camped at Moraine campground in Lee Vining canyon. Nice views of the canyon but man was it windy. The first night was not so bad, the second night I got up to stake my tent about six times, since the wind kept ripping the stakes out of the ground, and the third night I slept in the Prius so I could sleep for more than 5 minutes at a time.
On Tuesday, for the afternoon session, I went to a presentation about pack and saddle stock use at the historic Dechambeau ranch, the only one left of many ranches surrounding Mono Lake that served the mining communities in the area. The ranch was active until the 1930s, and was acquired by the Inyo National Forest in a land swap deal. The house, barn, and many outbuildings are still there but are closed to the public and in need of restoration. The house:
Lee Roeser, the packer for the Inyo National Forest and teacher at the seminar said that this building was a small slaughterhouse, and the wheel on the roof was used to dress the slaughtered cattle.
On Wednesday, lenticular clouds over Mono Lake:
On Wednesday, for the afternoon session, I went to a seminar on campsite restoration at a car-camping campground on Lee Vining creek that the Forest Service was closing. Lee Vining creek next to the campsite we restored:
Tioga lake on my way home Thursday:
The Merced River was running at flood stage, so I took a side trip to Yosemite Valley to see it. This area burned in the Big Meadows fire, the controlled-burn-that-got-out-of-control, last year:
Quiz time: what flower is this?
Swinging Bridge over the Merced River in Yosemite Valley:
There is still a lot of snow in Tuolumne Meadows:
We camped at Moraine campground in Lee Vining canyon. Nice views of the canyon but man was it windy. The first night was not so bad, the second night I got up to stake my tent about six times, since the wind kept ripping the stakes out of the ground, and the third night I slept in the Prius so I could sleep for more than 5 minutes at a time.
On Tuesday, for the afternoon session, I went to a presentation about pack and saddle stock use at the historic Dechambeau ranch, the only one left of many ranches surrounding Mono Lake that served the mining communities in the area. The ranch was active until the 1930s, and was acquired by the Inyo National Forest in a land swap deal. The house, barn, and many outbuildings are still there but are closed to the public and in need of restoration. The house:
Lee Roeser, the packer for the Inyo National Forest and teacher at the seminar said that this building was a small slaughterhouse, and the wheel on the roof was used to dress the slaughtered cattle.
On Wednesday, lenticular clouds over Mono Lake:
On Wednesday, for the afternoon session, I went to a seminar on campsite restoration at a car-camping campground on Lee Vining creek that the Forest Service was closing. Lee Vining creek next to the campsite we restored:
Tioga lake on my way home Thursday:
The Merced River was running at flood stage, so I took a side trip to Yosemite Valley to see it. This area burned in the Big Meadows fire, the controlled-burn-that-got-out-of-control, last year:
Quiz time: what flower is this?
Swinging Bridge over the Merced River in Yosemite Valley:
Tioga Upgrades! June 6, 2010
Tioga moved to Maureen's house to keep her mare Evie company. He now lives in a much nicer zipcode than me. Check out his awesome view of Silicon Valley:
Thanks Maureen!
Thanks Maureen!
Chester, CA and the Lassen National Forest, May 29-31, 2010
Evelyn and I headed out early Saturday and arrived in Chester in the early afternoon. Beautiful scenery on the road to Chester, and at Angela's house, where we camped:
Before heading out on the trail, we stopped at a craft fair in downtown Chester where I bought this opal ring, which was super cheap because the opal had a crack:
We rode on forest service land just down the street from Angela's house, around one lobe of Lake Almanor, then across the causeway splitting the lake. The marshes on the edge of Lake Almanor:
Great picture Kerry took of the lake in the evening:
Evelyn has kids so she never sleeps and I am a morning person. Angela is working on an owl study and does most of her field work at night. Luckily Evelyn and I spotted this coffee shop just down the street, where we found morning lattes and cinnamon rolls, and stayed a few hours to avoid driving the late sleepers bananas. I waited in line behind a guy dressed to the nines in camo and red check flannel, who told the barrista she was about to save him from the worst cup of coffee ever. Since the coffee shop had not been open, he was forced to drink a cup of gas station coffee before going fishing that morning. Now that he had caught his fish and the shop was open, he was ready for his mocha. I thought Chester looked like a ride-your-horse-to-the-coffee-shop kind of place, so I did, the next morning.
On Sunday we rode part of the Bizz Johnson trail, a trail that follows the old Fernley and Lassen Branch line of the Southern Pacific. The line carried lumber and sometimes passengers from 1914 until 1956. It is named for former congressman Harold T. "Bizz" Johnson, who was instrumental to the rails-to-trails conversion effort when the line was formally abandoned in 1978. Lukka, who tends to overheat, rocked a new, airflow-friendly hairdo on the Bizz.
I loaned Lukka to Kerry and rode Angela's young horse Cygan, who was very kind to me:
The Susan River:
Evelyn, Kerry, and Angela next to the Susan River:
The trailhead at Devil's Corral:
Angela and Cracker the dog. Evelyn and I found that cute little yellow travel trailer bird feeder at the Chester craft fair:
Mark taking Cracker for a bike ride before we headed home on Monday:
Before heading out on the trail, we stopped at a craft fair in downtown Chester where I bought this opal ring, which was super cheap because the opal had a crack:
We rode on forest service land just down the street from Angela's house, around one lobe of Lake Almanor, then across the causeway splitting the lake. The marshes on the edge of Lake Almanor:
Great picture Kerry took of the lake in the evening:
Evelyn has kids so she never sleeps and I am a morning person. Angela is working on an owl study and does most of her field work at night. Luckily Evelyn and I spotted this coffee shop just down the street, where we found morning lattes and cinnamon rolls, and stayed a few hours to avoid driving the late sleepers bananas. I waited in line behind a guy dressed to the nines in camo and red check flannel, who told the barrista she was about to save him from the worst cup of coffee ever. Since the coffee shop had not been open, he was forced to drink a cup of gas station coffee before going fishing that morning. Now that he had caught his fish and the shop was open, he was ready for his mocha. I thought Chester looked like a ride-your-horse-to-the-coffee-shop kind of place, so I did, the next morning. 
On Sunday we rode part of the Bizz Johnson trail, a trail that follows the old Fernley and Lassen Branch line of the Southern Pacific. The line carried lumber and sometimes passengers from 1914 until 1956. It is named for former congressman Harold T. "Bizz" Johnson, who was instrumental to the rails-to-trails conversion effort when the line was formally abandoned in 1978. Lukka, who tends to overheat, rocked a new, airflow-friendly hairdo on the Bizz.
I loaned Lukka to Kerry and rode Angela's young horse Cygan, who was very kind to me:
The Susan River:
Evelyn, Kerry, and Angela next to the Susan River:
The trailhead at Devil's Corral:
Angela and Cracker the dog. Evelyn and I found that cute little yellow travel trailer bird feeder at the Chester craft fair:
Mark taking Cracker for a bike ride before we headed home on Monday:
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Henry Cowell State Park, May 23, 2010
Another weekend of mostly working, but we did manage a Sunday ride at Henry Cowell state park in Felton. That is a great park: redwood trees, river crossings, the sound of the Roaring Camp railroad steam whistle filling the woods with music, and a cool horse water fountain up at the observation deck. Me and Juliet, near the observation deck:
The San Lorenzo river:
Hailey and Jack stopped by for a little pony ride. Cute!
The San Lorenzo river:
Hailey and Jack stopped by for a little pony ride. Cute!
Friday, June 11, 2010
St. Petersburg, May 13-16, 2010
Before we get to St. Petersburg, a quick word (rant) about Moscow's Sheremetyevo International Airport. Though on paper Sheremetyevo has but two terminals, terminal 1 and terminal 2, in reality there seem to be about 43 terminal buildings, miles and miles apart, none of which are connected in any rational way. I think this sprawling mess of an airport actually covers about 3% of Russia's land mass. Despite knowing that getting between terminals is impossible and therefore checking for the appropriate terminal, our taxi dropped us off in the wrong place. The inter-terminal shuttle consisted of waiting forever for a city bus (!) (!), finding fares for the four of us in a panic, wrestling our luggage over the turnstile (!) (!) on the bus, and figuring out the right stop. JFK is a toilet of an airport, but at least they have the excuse that it was built in the 1940s. No such excuse at Sheremetyevo, which was built for the 1980 Olympics. (It really seemed absurd at the time, but writing it down makes it sound like nothing. Plus my dad pointed out that it used to be worse, he had to pay $50 for a taxi between terminals in the 90s.)
Anyway, we made it to St. Petersburg! St. Petersburg was founded by Peter the Great in 1703 and was the capital of Russia until the revolution. Peter's desire to westernize Russia is obvious in St. Petersburg, which feels distinctly European compared to Moscow. Canals that divide up the city reminded me of Amsterdam. Thursday afternoon we walked around with Victoria, a St. Petersburg resident and sister of one of Yehudit's colleagues, to get a feel for the city. Noam, me, Rachel, and Yehudit in front of the Winter Palace of the Hermitage museum of art and culture. The Winter Palace was the official residence of the imperial family until the revolution.
Ten five-meter tall Atlantes hold up the roof of the old public entrance to the Hermitage museum. Looks heavy:
Nevskiy Prospekt is the main shopping and entertainment street in town. Nevskiy Prospekt crosses one of the canals on the Anichkov Bridge, which is adored by four statues showing four stages of taming a wild horse. I might have done things a little differently horse-taming wise (like I would probably be wearing shoes at the point in training illustrated below), but those statues are awesome.
The Church on Spilled Blood, or Resurrection Church of Our Savior (this indecision in naming churches seems distinctly Russian - every church in Russia seems to have multiple names), was built on the spot where Tsar Alexander II was assassinated. It is the only church of this type (onion-domed, timber construction) in St. Petersburg:
Noam in front of the Singer house, built for the Singer Sewing Machine Company, on Nevskiy Prospekt:
Another equestrian statue on Anichkov bridge:
Yehudit in front of a diorama of the inside of the Mariinskiy Theater, home of the famous Ballets Russes:
We saw a performance of Swan Lake at another theater. It was my first ballet, and it was fantastic. On our last evening, we went to a show of folk music and dancing called "Feel Yourself Russian." Check out this HUGE guitar-like thing:
The show was held in the Nikolaevskiy Palace:
Russian folk dancing, particularly for the male performers, seems to be more about feats of strength than poise, grace, or elegance. I'm not sure I felt myself Russian, but it was cool. Noam posing by one of St. Petersburg's canals on our last evening in Russia:
Anyway, we made it to St. Petersburg! St. Petersburg was founded by Peter the Great in 1703 and was the capital of Russia until the revolution. Peter's desire to westernize Russia is obvious in St. Petersburg, which feels distinctly European compared to Moscow. Canals that divide up the city reminded me of Amsterdam. Thursday afternoon we walked around with Victoria, a St. Petersburg resident and sister of one of Yehudit's colleagues, to get a feel for the city. Noam, me, Rachel, and Yehudit in front of the Winter Palace of the Hermitage museum of art and culture. The Winter Palace was the official residence of the imperial family until the revolution.
Ten five-meter tall Atlantes hold up the roof of the old public entrance to the Hermitage museum. Looks heavy:
Nevskiy Prospekt is the main shopping and entertainment street in town. Nevskiy Prospekt crosses one of the canals on the Anichkov Bridge, which is adored by four statues showing four stages of taming a wild horse. I might have done things a little differently horse-taming wise (like I would probably be wearing shoes at the point in training illustrated below), but those statues are awesome.
The Church on Spilled Blood, or Resurrection Church of Our Savior (this indecision in naming churches seems distinctly Russian - every church in Russia seems to have multiple names), was built on the spot where Tsar Alexander II was assassinated. It is the only church of this type (onion-domed, timber construction) in St. Petersburg:
Noam in front of the Singer house, built for the Singer Sewing Machine Company, on Nevskiy Prospekt:
Another equestrian statue on Anichkov bridge:
Yehudit in front of a diorama of the inside of the Mariinskiy Theater, home of the famous Ballets Russes:
We saw a performance of Swan Lake at another theater. It was my first ballet, and it was fantastic. On our last evening, we went to a show of folk music and dancing called "Feel Yourself Russian." Check out this HUGE guitar-like thing:
The show was held in the Nikolaevskiy Palace:
Russian folk dancing, particularly for the male performers, seems to be more about feats of strength than poise, grace, or elegance. I'm not sure I felt myself Russian, but it was cool. Noam posing by one of St. Petersburg's canals on our last evening in Russia:
Friday, June 4, 2010
Moscow, May 9-12, 2010
We arrived in Moscow on May 9, Victory Day. We opted to take the airport express train and the Metro from the airport, since a huge parade in honor of the 65th anniversary of the end of World War II promised to snarl traffic. We arrived at Komsomolskaya station, named for the Komsomol, the communist union of youth, who helped build the first metro line, slightly overwhelmed. Located under Komsomolskaya Square between three railway terminals, Komsomolskaya station is extremely busy and as such, kind of an alarming introduction to Moscow. After later sampling some of Moscow's other Metro stations, we decided that Komsomolskaya consistently displayed by far the most comprehensive freak parade. Yehudit treating us to welcome beers in the lobby of the Hilton Leningradskaya, one of seven buildings in Moscow built in the Stalinist Gothic style:
Victory day is a big deal in Moscow. The 65th anniversary was a HUGE deal. For the first time, American and British soldiers marched in the parade in Red Square. Everywhere we went we saw veterans wearing their medals, and people handing them flowers and taking their pictures. In the evening, we headed down toward Red Square to see a huge fireworks display over the Kremlin. Here we got our first glimpse of Russian security theater. In the US, I feel like a lot of our post-September-11th preoccupation with security is more about the appearance of security than actual security (the TSA's fetish about seeing people's socks and bare feet and ongoing mission to protect other travelers from water I brought from home and big shampoo bottles in my carry-on come to mind). In Russia, I learned to appreciate the art of US security theater - at least in the US we get Avatar-caliber special effects with our security theater. In Russia, the security theater special effects are like a cheesy 1930s horror movie. (What the hell is she talking about? I know, I'm getting to it, here it is:) Lots of streets around Red Square were closed to traffic. To get into these closed areas to walk around, we were directed to walk through metal detectors with the power plugs laying visibly on the ground next to them, unplugged. As we were scoping out our fireworks viewing spot, Yehudit and the other Rachel walked around the "metal detector" into the "secure" area without realizing it. Two police officers barked some commands at them, which Yehudit and Rachel couldn't hear or ignored because they were in Russian, so the cops gave up and went back to standing there and smoking. Our favorite example of cheesy security theater was the following day at the Hotel Metropol, where we walked in to the hotel through an unattended door to the restaurant, looked at the famous glass ceiling there, had a drink in the bar, walked all through the hotel, then were scolded for walking around the metal detector when we LEFT the hotel through another entrance. In any case, here are the fireworks over the Kremlin, and Yehudit, the patriotic Russian, waving a flag given to her by some druggies in a bus shelter where we waited out the rain.
Monday morning we went to see Iolanta, an opera by Pyotr Tchaikovsky, at the Bolshoi theater's small stage. Here is the real Bolshoi, closed for renovation:
The Bolshoi, even the small Bolshoi, was absolutely gigantic. Those columns are enormous. You walk for what seems like miles across a huge plaza to reach the theater, as the theater gets bigger and bigger. Rachel described it best - Moscow is an overpowering city. Every building seems to be constructed for giants. Every street seems to have eight lanes going in each direction at about 50 miles an hour. If you accidentally ended up on the wrong side of a street, it felt like you had to walk for an hour to cross it. The city seems intent on reminding you at every moment that you are a puny little cog, an ant in the grand scheme of things.
Victory day is a big deal in Moscow. The 65th anniversary was a HUGE deal. For the first time, American and British soldiers marched in the parade in Red Square. Everywhere we went we saw veterans wearing their medals, and people handing them flowers and taking their pictures. In the evening, we headed down toward Red Square to see a huge fireworks display over the Kremlin. Here we got our first glimpse of Russian security theater. In the US, I feel like a lot of our post-September-11th preoccupation with security is more about the appearance of security than actual security (the TSA's fetish about seeing people's socks and bare feet and ongoing mission to protect other travelers from water I brought from home and big shampoo bottles in my carry-on come to mind). In Russia, I learned to appreciate the art of US security theater - at least in the US we get Avatar-caliber special effects with our security theater. In Russia, the security theater special effects are like a cheesy 1930s horror movie. (What the hell is she talking about? I know, I'm getting to it, here it is:) Lots of streets around Red Square were closed to traffic. To get into these closed areas to walk around, we were directed to walk through metal detectors with the power plugs laying visibly on the ground next to them, unplugged. As we were scoping out our fireworks viewing spot, Yehudit and the other Rachel walked around the "metal detector" into the "secure" area without realizing it. Two police officers barked some commands at them, which Yehudit and Rachel couldn't hear or ignored because they were in Russian, so the cops gave up and went back to standing there and smoking. Our favorite example of cheesy security theater was the following day at the Hotel Metropol, where we walked in to the hotel through an unattended door to the restaurant, looked at the famous glass ceiling there, had a drink in the bar, walked all through the hotel, then were scolded for walking around the metal detector when we LEFT the hotel through another entrance. In any case, here are the fireworks over the Kremlin, and Yehudit, the patriotic Russian, waving a flag given to her by some druggies in a bus shelter where we waited out the rain.
Monday morning we went to see Iolanta, an opera by Pyotr Tchaikovsky, at the Bolshoi theater's small stage. Here is the real Bolshoi, closed for renovation:
The Bolshoi, even the small Bolshoi, was absolutely gigantic. Those columns are enormous. You walk for what seems like miles across a huge plaza to reach the theater, as the theater gets bigger and bigger. Rachel described it best - Moscow is an overpowering city. Every building seems to be constructed for giants. Every street seems to have eight lanes going in each direction at about 50 miles an hour. If you accidentally ended up on the wrong side of a street, it felt like you had to walk for an hour to cross it. The city seems intent on reminding you at every moment that you are a puny little cog, an ant in the grand scheme of things.After Iolanta, we crossed the street to the Hotel Metropol for a drink. A bike race past the Bolshoi and the Metropol:
The famous glass ceiling in the Hotel Metropol. The restaurant beneath this thing was too dreary, so we had a drink at the bar instead, where I paid $20 for the world's crappiest coffee.
Refreshed, we headed out to Red Square. On one side of Red Square is GUM, one of the few department stores in Soviet times that actually had consumer goods, for which people stood in famously long queues stretching across Red Square. Now it is the fanciest mall I have ever set foot in. I'm sure some Communists are rolling in their graves:
St. Basil's Cathedral, a giant piece of candy sitting on the edge of Red Square. Legend says that Ivan the Terrible blinded the architect so he could never again create such a masterpiece, but Wikipedia is skeptical:
The dinner hour was approacing, so we headed to Arbatskaya, a neighborhood outside the Kremlin where historically the tsar's artisans lived. I so loved being there with the other Rachel. Vacationing Shendar-style is a hard core, 7 AM to 10 PM occupation. The Shendars do not stop for frivolities like food or rest. Rachel is, thankfully, a mere mortal like me, so we did get to eat a few times during the trip. The Turkish food we found was cheap and pretty good, and that is all I have to say about Arbatskaya.
The famous glass ceiling in the Hotel Metropol. The restaurant beneath this thing was too dreary, so we had a drink at the bar instead, where I paid $20 for the world's crappiest coffee.
Refreshed, we headed out to Red Square. On one side of Red Square is GUM, one of the few department stores in Soviet times that actually had consumer goods, for which people stood in famously long queues stretching across Red Square. Now it is the fanciest mall I have ever set foot in. I'm sure some Communists are rolling in their graves:
St. Basil's Cathedral, a giant piece of candy sitting on the edge of Red Square. Legend says that Ivan the Terrible blinded the architect so he could never again create such a masterpiece, but Wikipedia is skeptical:
The dinner hour was approacing, so we headed to Arbatskaya, a neighborhood outside the Kremlin where historically the tsar's artisans lived. I so loved being there with the other Rachel. Vacationing Shendar-style is a hard core, 7 AM to 10 PM occupation. The Shendars do not stop for frivolities like food or rest. Rachel is, thankfully, a mere mortal like me, so we did get to eat a few times during the trip. The Turkish food we found was cheap and pretty good, and that is all I have to say about Arbatskaya.The metro in Moscow really is amazing. Trains run constantly - even late at night, we never waited more than two minutes for a train. In one of those famous, chandeliered stations:
A mosaic of grandpa Lenin in one of the stations:
Tuesday we went to the Kremlin. Rachel and I standing on the square where a bunch of Kremlin churches congregate.
Lord, the gold domes. Apparently, in Russia, over-the-top = elegant. If a little gold is good, then a crapload is a crapload better. I particularly enjoyed this effect in restaurants. Yehudit rejected one restaurant because it was so cheesy-sounding that we figured it would be a total tourist trap. I read later that actors and oligarchs often frequent the place. One restaurant recommended by the hotel for authentic Russian food had a down-on-the-farm motif, complete with a stream with fish in it running through the dining room, and some pheasants in a cage a few tables over. I love it! Meanwhile, back at the Kremlin. Moscow's public green spaces were fantastic. The tulips in this park at the Kremlin were gorgeous. Not a lot of tulips in California, it made me nostalgic for summer in Wisconsin:
The Armory at the Kremlin, with the museum of lots of historical crap, and the Diamond Fund, a collection of precious stones that was totally amazing. Absolutely HUGE rocks, there must have been a billion dollars worth of stones in there. Or maybe this isn't the Armory, in which case it is Some Yellow Building in the Kremlin:
After the Kremlin, we headed to Red Square to search for a hipster cafe where we could refuel.
Noam with my Kir Royale at the hipster cafe, which came complete with a hipster oligarch-in-training in a shiny grey suit and a shirt with huge purple flowers:
Refueling was necessary to face our next challenge, finding our way to a Jewish Community Center where Yehudit had one of her exhibits. Two Metros, then thank you google for showing us this lovely street car that took us right there. How did we live before google maps? Excellent work navigating Noam!
A mosaic of grandpa Lenin in one of the stations:
Tuesday we went to the Kremlin. Rachel and I standing on the square where a bunch of Kremlin churches congregate.
Lord, the gold domes. Apparently, in Russia, over-the-top = elegant. If a little gold is good, then a crapload is a crapload better. I particularly enjoyed this effect in restaurants. Yehudit rejected one restaurant because it was so cheesy-sounding that we figured it would be a total tourist trap. I read later that actors and oligarchs often frequent the place. One restaurant recommended by the hotel for authentic Russian food had a down-on-the-farm motif, complete with a stream with fish in it running through the dining room, and some pheasants in a cage a few tables over. I love it! Meanwhile, back at the Kremlin. Moscow's public green spaces were fantastic. The tulips in this park at the Kremlin were gorgeous. Not a lot of tulips in California, it made me nostalgic for summer in Wisconsin:
The Armory at the Kremlin, with the museum of lots of historical crap, and the Diamond Fund, a collection of precious stones that was totally amazing. Absolutely HUGE rocks, there must have been a billion dollars worth of stones in there. Or maybe this isn't the Armory, in which case it is Some Yellow Building in the Kremlin:
After the Kremlin, we headed to Red Square to search for a hipster cafe where we could refuel.
Noam with my Kir Royale at the hipster cafe, which came complete with a hipster oligarch-in-training in a shiny grey suit and a shirt with huge purple flowers:
Refueling was necessary to face our next challenge, finding our way to a Jewish Community Center where Yehudit had one of her exhibits. Two Metros, then thank you google for showing us this lovely street car that took us right there. How did we live before google maps? Excellent work navigating Noam!
Wednesday morning we headed to the Cathedral of Christ the Redeemer, and this awesome statute of Peter the Great. It was originally a statue of Christopher Columbus (most overrated figure in history) intended as a gift for the US. When the US government refused it, the sculptor ripped off the head, replaced it with Peter the Great's head, and sold it to the Russian government. It is HUGE, and extremely hideous.
The Cathedral of Christ the Redeemer was blown up at the request of Stalin in 1931 and reconstructed at great cost and controversy between 1994 and 1997. Noam and I are WAY on the other side of the river looking back at it, they sure do not do anything small in this country:
Nice view of the Kremlin, too bad it was on a highway bridge with traffic whizzing by:
Wednesday afternoon there was a press conference for Yehudit's other exhibit, at the Museum of Modern History (referred to as the "stuff people gave Stalin" museum by one of the people working with Yehudit on the exhibit). Yehudit's exhibit featured works by the artist Tolkatchev, an artist who enlisted in the Red Army during World War II to create official art for the regime. He arrived in both Majdanek and Auschwitz shortly after liberation. At Auschwitz he was compelled to sketch what he saw but had no paper, so he rifled through an office to find some paper. Many of the images in the exhibit, powerful images of hatred and suffering, were sketched on the letterhead of the commander of the Auschwitz camp. How awesome that the who, what, and where are forever so intimately associated with the images. Noam and Rachel outside the exhibit.
After the press conference, Yehudit was finished with work for a few days and joined us for the afternoon. We took the Metro to Moscow State University to see another Stalinist Gothic skyscraper, the main university building:
Gorgeous! We walked in but couldn't get too far, lacking a student ID. The area inside the main door was amazingly drab and claustrophobic for such a gigantic and creepily elegant building.
We walked to a ridge for what the book described as an "unsurpassed view across the city" (skip it), then rode this chairlift down the hill next to what is apparently the training area for the Russian ski-jumping team:
Noam and I rode a chairlift in China, so we are obviously brave when it comes to conveyances with sketchy manufacturing or maintenance histories, but this sucker was pretty bare, no sides to the thing, just a flat square moving through the sky with ample opportunities to fall off. I marveled, but Noam pointed out, does this strike you as a society that feels much fear or shows any weakness? Good point.
After the chairlift, we rode a boat down the river and headed to an Armenian restaurant in the Kitay Gorod neighborhood for some excellent food. I couldn't resist ordering the "Existence Ethereality" for dessert. That is a dessert with a lot of promise, and it was pretty good! On to St. Petersburg.
The Cathedral of Christ the Redeemer was blown up at the request of Stalin in 1931 and reconstructed at great cost and controversy between 1994 and 1997. Noam and I are WAY on the other side of the river looking back at it, they sure do not do anything small in this country:
Nice view of the Kremlin, too bad it was on a highway bridge with traffic whizzing by:
Wednesday afternoon there was a press conference for Yehudit's other exhibit, at the Museum of Modern History (referred to as the "stuff people gave Stalin" museum by one of the people working with Yehudit on the exhibit). Yehudit's exhibit featured works by the artist Tolkatchev, an artist who enlisted in the Red Army during World War II to create official art for the regime. He arrived in both Majdanek and Auschwitz shortly after liberation. At Auschwitz he was compelled to sketch what he saw but had no paper, so he rifled through an office to find some paper. Many of the images in the exhibit, powerful images of hatred and suffering, were sketched on the letterhead of the commander of the Auschwitz camp. How awesome that the who, what, and where are forever so intimately associated with the images. Noam and Rachel outside the exhibit.
After the press conference, Yehudit was finished with work for a few days and joined us for the afternoon. We took the Metro to Moscow State University to see another Stalinist Gothic skyscraper, the main university building:
Gorgeous! We walked in but couldn't get too far, lacking a student ID. The area inside the main door was amazingly drab and claustrophobic for such a gigantic and creepily elegant building.
We walked to a ridge for what the book described as an "unsurpassed view across the city" (skip it), then rode this chairlift down the hill next to what is apparently the training area for the Russian ski-jumping team:
Noam and I rode a chairlift in China, so we are obviously brave when it comes to conveyances with sketchy manufacturing or maintenance histories, but this sucker was pretty bare, no sides to the thing, just a flat square moving through the sky with ample opportunities to fall off. I marveled, but Noam pointed out, does this strike you as a society that feels much fear or shows any weakness? Good point.After the chairlift, we rode a boat down the river and headed to an Armenian restaurant in the Kitay Gorod neighborhood for some excellent food. I couldn't resist ordering the "Existence Ethereality" for dessert. That is a dessert with a lot of promise, and it was pretty good! On to St. Petersburg.
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