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Photos and travel diaries by Era & Donald Farnsworth

Dear friends and family,

This is (gasp) Email #10 from this trip. I keep feeling that I haven't written enough, but I guess I've been fairly diligent.

We (or I should say Inez and her friend Linda Predovsky) had planned this side-trip excursion for us. Tsarskoye Selo (now also known as Pushkin) is the former name of the town outside St. Petersburg where the Romanoffs had many palaces and parks. Catherine the Great lived and died at Ekaterina, her palace here, and had many of her escapades here.

The photo below is not Ekaterina, but a manor house near the little Russian church below.







































We stopped at a lovely little Russian Orthodox church along the way. This is in a rural area not far from St. Petersburg.













Andrew posing with a memorial to his great uncle, Nicholas the II.






The little church from the back and the imposing Russian sky.







































Inside there was a service going on. Worshippers, who seemed to be constantly crossing themselves, and even getting down on their knees; to the side a priest healing people, and choral music which was so sweet it opened my heart and brought, if not tears, moisture to my eyes. 

These people are waiting to receive a blessing from the black-robed, long-bearded priest. I imagine Rasputin might have presided or at least passed through this church in his time.




Downstairs, which I did not see, another area for prayer, and also the kitchens where food was being prepared for everyone.
























The cook came out with tears of joy to see Andrew.


Driving a little further we came to Ekaterina, Catherine the Great's palace. Below: Era, Paula, Sammy, Inez, Andrew and Olga, the director of Ekaterina. The guest houses, now a hotel, are in the background. We stayed there overnight in the little monk-like beds.

In the second photo down the Catherine palace is in the background. More crazy Russian sky. This program will not allow me to place my descriptions where I would like, at times. 


















Special treatment: Tea (or coffee) at Ekaterina and incredibly sweet cookies and candies. We were told that this is where the Reagans were served tea (not terribly impressive to us, not being Reagan fans). L to R: Andrew, Inez, Nikolai (our guide), Paula, Sammy, Era, Don





Olga, the director of the Ekaterina, her assistant, Iraida (Ira or Era for short!) and Andrew, chattering away in Russian.





















I'm laughing at the absurdity of the situation. We were let in and out of a very special door, which is only used for visiting dignitaries, such as the Bushes, etc. (Why are they always Republicans?)

However, we would not think of turning down this offer or honor, as it avoids having to wait in line with the crowds.

















The waiting hordes. This line stretched out for at least a block. Everytime we had to mingle with the crowds the curators were very apologetic and concerned. Cooties?








Beautiful, but a little excessive. Later it got way excessive.



A little gold (real gold) and a few paintings.


I'm pretty certain this is meant to be Catherine herself in one of her gowns. The beautiful blue and white oven/stove/fireplace is constructed of ceramic tiles made in Russia in the time of Catherine the Great and also replacement tiles were made more recently. The Russian craftsmanship in these palaces is quite outstanding. Many of these buildings were totally demolished during WWII and sections had to be rebuilt from the ground up. It is difficult to discern what is the reconstruction and what the original. 




These stoves are scattered throughout Ekaterina Palace and were used for heating the rooms during the cold Russian winters.























The mirror room. The gold color is real gold. Nikolai said when sunny, the whole room glows.





More mirror room. Everyone is wearing brown booties to protect the floor. This kind of excess is seen in many of the palaces and gives us a sense of conditions for the aristocracy before the revolution and what undoubtedly contributed to the dissatisfaction amongst the rebels.





Then at around 3:00 pm, which was the usual hour when we were allowed to break for lunch on these guided tours, we were taken in a horse and carriage to a restaurant on the Ekaterina grounds. Don with guide/curator. A lake on the grounds and a folly in the background.




The curator sees something of interest. I forget what now.


We were taken to a totally deserted restaurant. In fairness, it was about 3:30 by this time. There was one other large table set up. The restaurant staff told us we mustn't sit there, as it was reserved. It turned out to be another Romanoff party; some second cousins of Andrew. Their grandmothers were sisters. It was probably the worst food and the most expensive food we had in Russia. If their only clientele are Romanoffs, I can see that they may have to charge a lot to stay in business.

Andrew's second cousin was virtually indistinguishable from a jovial American businessman whom you might meet at a fundraiser or a golf course. My impression, anyway.






The drive back, Chinese inspired bridges. Probably the most exotic style which could be imagined at that time.






Later that evening, Don, Sammy and I took a walk thru the beautiful grounds. These are what the Russians call the "White Nights," when it stays light until very late at night. We began to really enjoy this, as the White Nights give you a super long day. Of course, it's all reversed in the winter.




Sammy, getting a choice shot.























































































What we guessed was an old caretaker's cottage.
































































From Russia with Love,

Era and Don


Dear friends and family, and future friends,

The Hermitage continues:






























This lovely fabric is pretty enough, especially when you realize it is made by hand with silk threads that look about as fine as spiderwebs. The design looks identical on each side. The curator told us that the young girls who made these were known to lose their eyesight. So in a somewhat warped sense of charity, at least to our present-day values, a home was set up to take care of these women when they could no longer see or see well. The value of these weavings was astronomical. I believe the curator said that they were worth the price of a palace (then), but it seems hard to believe now. Did I hear that right?









Here's a detail



































The curator's seal to show who last opened and possibly removed or breathed upon the precious contents of this wardrobe.





Crossing the courtyard from the main palace of the Hermitage to the new contemporary wing. Don and I would later cross this courtyard many times as our apartment is one and a half blocks away, on the same street as the Hermitage.
















That is the ever-present photographer (very unobtrusive), a Hermitage curator, our translator (Nikolai), Sheldon (Paula's grandson), Paula, Sammy (Paula's traveling companion and hairdresser) and Andrew.











































The man in what Paula noticed was an extremely expensive hand-stitched off-white jacket with handmade buttonholes is the head of the new contemporary branch of the Hermitage. He has just asked Andrew to sign his book.






































Will he break out in song? No, holding his autographed book in hand, he is pausing for breath in the middle of a lengthy speech, translated by our faithful Nikolai.







We are in a beautiful old building across the plaza from the main Hermitage museum. It has been updated and modernized in the way that buildings can be in Europe. You have got to have an old building to start with. The Director said that they sometimes hold concerts here and set up chairs on the steps. I don't believe any of the determined, but becoming a little exhausted, travelers would have found this on our own.




Admiring an awesome Kiefer.






Each taking his turn.



















We admired other paintings also, Kandinsky with unidentified curator.





Art satiated.
.
From Russia with Love,

Era and Don





Too much of a welcome. 

On our first evening in St. Petersburg, we wandered into a local restaurant which seemed to have a lot of young Russian people in their clientele, and shortly after sitting down were joined by a drunk Russian man who informed us his name was Sergio and he was a former member of the Red Army. Great. Don and I both flashed back to shortly after we were married, in fact on our honeymoon when we were basically stuck in India after the Bombay airport burned down. We became the object of attention of a man who looked like a Russian weightlifter who wanted to arm wrestle Don and kept flicking lighted matches at us, while shouting "Americanski". Sergio could have been the weightlifter's reincarnation. Think the blonde giant who wrestled James Bond in From Russia with Love.





I'm giving Sergio a wary look. He has just plonked down his leftover food on the table announcing he was contributing it to our dinner. He's flashing the 5000 ruble note which he insists is going to pay for everything.

Slurring in his limited English, Sergio insisted that he was going to buy us drinks. We kept refusing. Ignoring our protests, he ordered a round while sliding off his chair and barely catching himself before hitting the tiled floor. We looked over to the bartender, but he had turned a lighter shade of pale and looked like he definitely did not want to be involved. So we tolerated Sergio while quickly finishing our late night dinner snack. Meanwhile, Sergio wanted his picture taken with me. The guy was as strong as an ox. I kept flashing that he had probably twisted people's heads off, but maybe I've seen too many James Bond movies. Managed to get out of there with all limbs and heads intact. We did end up paying for Sergio's drink.

I will note that most encounters we have had with ordinary Russian people have been very satisfactory and nothing like this.

More civilized company:





Next morning met our traveling companions at their hotel for breakfast. This is Inez, her friend Helen, who lives in England, and Andrew. 



Love this picture: Andrew with Paula's grandson, Sheldon, who is doing an internship here in St. Petersburg.



Royal treatment at the Hermitage. Ushered into the director of the State Hermitage Museum, Prof. Dr. Mikhail Piotrovsky. Loved the piles of books everywhere. He seemed to be a very decent man and sent his warm regards to Chuck Close, who had had an exhibition there.


Mikhail's office filing system - elegant disorder






Guided thru this beautiful Egyptian room a little too quickly for my taste.










































And into the astounding Diamond & Gold Rooms. This is the curator who has been assigned to us; very knowledgeable and efficient. I am not good with names and Russian names are really a challenge; can't retain them very well.



Not very crowded on our tour.




Scythian gold. Scythians were a nomadic tribe who seemed to almost live on horseback. Originally conquered by the Chinese and driven out of the Eastern steppes, they rode west and loosely occupied a large area of what is now Russia and surrounding areas. They wore loose trousers and later clashed with the Slavs, who we saw in paintings depicted in full armor.



As you can see, they did lovely work in gold. There were cases and cases of this beautiful gold work.








































Moving forward in time, a gold crown, woven from gold thread and studded with rubies and pearls.







































Beautiful solid gold pocket watch. You might have to have one of your retainers carry it for you, though. Probably rather heavy, we weren't allowed to heft it.




One of the curators said that an empress (name?) thought these jeweled flowers were vulgar. Perhaps so, but I rather like them.

By the way, I believe that photos are normally not allowed in this room. There were signs around to that effect. We didn't ask.







































Inspecting the goods; Sammy, Era, Inez, Andrew, Paula and the curator.







































One of the goodies.




























Next we were taken into a narrow hot stuffy corridor and shown what seemed to be an endless supply of wardrobes of clothes belonging to Andrew's grandmother Xenia, great-grandmother, great-aunt Alexandra, etc., etc. until we all felt a little woozy. Inez and Paula had to sit down outside. We felt it had to be endured, as this was a special privilege. They do not bring these clothes out for anyone, but since Andrew was part of the family, they were breaking precedent.







































The young man with the giant camera is a Hermitage photographer who was assigned to follow Andrew around.
Inez finally had to play the bad cop and get us out of there. Hopefully not too many feathers were ruffled.

Much more later, but I'm going to bed.

From Russia with Love,

Era and Don



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About the Authors

Donald and Era Farnsworth
Donald and Era Farnsworth are collaborators in art and life. Married over 30 years, they co-direct Magnolia Editions and The Magnolia Tapestry Project, based in Oakland, California. Both artists are products of the SF Bay Area. Shortly after receiving his M.A. from the University of California at Berkeley in 1977, Donald Farnsworth met Era Hamaji. They married and immediately set out for Dar es Salaam, Tanzania where Donald designed and helped build a handmade paper mill while Era worked with artisans, teaching and developing new craft products lines. In 1980 the Farnsworths returned to California and were founders of the art projects studio Magnolia Editions, known for its innovative techniques and innumerable collaborative projects with artists.
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