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Travel: St. Petersburg (part I)

Russia’s window to the West is a unique blend of eastern and western cultures
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When Czar Peter the Great chose the site for Russia’s “Window to the West” it wasn’t much more than a stretch of swamp where the Niva River empties into the Gulf of Finland. But ownership of the strategic Niva Delta had been a source of conflict between the Russians and the Swedes for centuries and in 1700, when Peter decided it was the perfect place to build his new dream city, the delta was occupied by the Swedes — a bothersome inconvenience that was ultimately resolved by the “Great Northern War” (1700 – 21).

Early in the War the Russian army drove the Swedes from their outposts on the Delta and in 1703 Peter built the “Peter and Paul Fortress” on an island near the mouth of the Niva. The fortress is still there and the city that has grown up around it surpasses even the wildest dreams of a Russian Czar. In every respect, economy, culture, and sheer beauty, St. Petersburg has become one of the world’s most extraordinary cities.

During our three-day visit in June, when the long summer days stretch into the “white nights” of the far north, St. Petersburg was basking in a stretch of balmy clear weather and bright sunshine. “It’s not always like this,” cautions Victoria who describes the climate as “three months of anticipation and nine months of disappointment.” The city is about the same latitude as the southern Yukon and the cold and heavy snowfall of winter combined with sea fogs that role in from the Baltic can make it a dreary place. But, despite the weather, Victoria, tour guide extraordinaire and long time resident of St. Petersburg, is passionate about her city. “It’s certainly the most beautiful city in all of Europe,” she says as we pile into her van. “We won’t stop for lunch today,” she explains, “There is just too much to see so snack in the van between stops.”

On the drive from our ship at Salt Pier to our first stop Victoria tells us more about her city. “Some people call it the Venice of the North. It’s built on 101 islands, has 66 canals, and more bridges than you can count. But unlike Venice and most big European cities St. Petersburg is only 300 years old and from the very beginning it was built to a plan.” That plan, of course, was the vision of Peter the Great who, with unlimited power at his command, let nothing get in his way. His magnificent creation has also been called “the city built on bones.”

Born in 1672, Peter I came to the throne at 10 and died at age 52. But during his short lifetime he transformed Russia from a backward eastward-looking country into a powerful and progressive part of Western Europe. Even as a child he was fascinated by Western culture and as a young man he traveled extensively and studied western science, technology and art. After the death of his mother in 1694 the 22-year-old czar embarked on a plan to westernize Russia and creating St. Petersburg — a modern European city on the Baltic — became his obsession. But draining the boggy marshes of the delta was a formidable task. Peasants were drafted to dig canals and thousands of forced labourers died of exhaustion and disease even before the foundations of the new city were laid. In 1712 Peter, then 40, moved the seat of government from Moscow and threw the doors of his new capital city open to the world. European architects and planners worked with their Russian counterparts on the evolving city. Foreign scholars were invited to share their knowledge and scientists were offered free research in the new Academy of Science. When Peter died prematurely in 1725, only 22 years after founding his city on the Baltic, it had a population of 40,000 and St. Petersburg had become the portal for 90 per cent of Russia’s foreign trade.

Victoria’s van follows the north bank of the Niva to Nevskiy Prospekt, the city’s main street, then turns westward into the historic centre of St. Petersburg, and finally stops at the Peter and Paul Cathedral whose gilded, 123m spire is one of the defining landmarks of the city — a symbol of the brilliance and brutality of Peter the Great. It stands at the very centre of the fortress that Peter built 300 years ago and the man himself is buried here. “This is where it all began,” Victoria tells us as we follow her into the ornate baroque interior of the cathedral where a bronze bust of Peter gazes down on his gold embossed, white marble tomb. The Peter and Paul Fortress never saw battle. By the time it was built the Swedes were already on the run and the fortress was used as a prison for Peter’s detractors at home. Those who opposed the ruthless pace of his reforms, and there were many including his own son Alexei, were locked up here. Alexei himself was among those tortured and executed on the orders of his father.

Looking south from the ramparts of the fortress we can see many of the historic buildings on the opposite side of the Niva. “We’ll visit as many as we can,” Victoria tells us as we leave the fortress and head downtown where the streets and architecture are a fusion of eastern and western European styles. The canals and countless bridges are reminiscent of Amsterdam and Venice. The Summer Garden was inspired by gardens in France, and bronze statues of Russian heroes preside over small manicured parks that remind me of London. But, scattered throughout the city, a multitude of eastern orthodox cathedrals blend harmoniously into St. Petersburg’s unique cultural stew — St. Isaac’s whose massive dome is gilded with 200 pounds of gold, the magnificently ornate Church on the Spilled Blood which stands on the very spot where Alexander II was assassinated, and a host of other multi-domed churches each add a touch of eastern European spice to the mix.

But of all the places we visited in St. Petersburg, the winter palace and Hermitage most completely capture the history and artistic spirit of the city. From 1763 until 1917 the winter palace was home to Russia’s ruling elite. Commissioned by Empress Elizabeth in 1754, its two tiers of magnificent white columns, set against a lime green background and trimmed with gold, face the Niva River on one side and Palace Square on the other. Inside the main entrance I stood in amazement at the size and opulence of the entry hall, but that was only the beginning. The Winter Palace has more than a thousand rooms and at least a hundred elaborate staircases and balconies. Elizabeth’s successors, particularly Catherine the Great, poured untold millions into remodeling the vast interior space. Featuring white marble, gold trim, massive chandeliers and larger than life statues, each room seems to outdo the last in size and elegance. Still Catherine the Great longed to have a bit more wall space for her paintings.

Catherine was no ordinary art collector and her insatiable appetite for space came to a head in 1764 with the delivery of 225 paintings from Berlin. She promptly commissioned the construction of a new wing on the palace. For a few years this “Small Hermitage” served as both a gallery and private retreat for Catherine and her intimate friends, but the collection soon outgrew the new space and she commissioned an even larger addition, “The Old Hermitage” to house her acquisitions. In 1839 Nicholas I added the monumental “New Hermitage” — and so began what has become one of the largest and most prestigious art museums in the world.

Following the 1917 Bolshevik revolution and the ousting of the czars, the Winter Palace and its three hermitages were incorporated into “The State Hermitage Museum” — a vast architectural ensemble that now houses an estimated three million exhibits. Dedicated scholars could spend their careers in the Hermitage but even a casual stroll through its glittering, cavernous halls and hundreds of art-filled rooms is a memorable experience. The half-day we spent there was like an excursion back through time, leading us from the art and culture of the ancient world past masterpieces of the 16 th and 17 th centuries to the impressionistic art of today. But perhaps even more than the art displayed within their walls it was the buildings themselves that captured my imagination.

Victoria joined me as I pondered the smirking portrait of a portly Catherine the Great trussed into her ridiculously ornate finery and surrounded by the excesses of her palace. “It’s no wonder the serfs revolted,” I thought out loud. “If you think the luxury here is over the top wait till tomorrow when we visit her summer place,” Victoria answered, as we wandered past the statues and polished marble columns of yet another vast hall in the Winter Palace.