Comments on: Russia, My Russia: Part V http://arabcomment.com/2008/russia-my-russia-part-v/ where the Arab world thinks out loud Wed, 16 Jun 2010 15:56:58 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0.1 By: ArabComment » Russia, My Russia: The Final Chapter http://arabcomment.com/2008/russia-my-russia-part-v/comment-page-1/#comment-210 ArabComment » Russia, My Russia: The Final Chapter Sun, 30 Mar 2008 15:04:28 +0000 http://arabcomment.com/2008/russia-my-russia-part-v/#comment-210 [...] The previous installment of Husam’s travelogue can be found here. [...] [...] The previous installment of Husam’s travelogue can be found here. [...]

]]> By: Steve Smith http://arabcomment.com/2008/russia-my-russia-part-v/comment-page-1/#comment-133 Steve Smith Thu, 28 Feb 2008 15:47:17 +0000 http://arabcomment.com/2008/russia-my-russia-part-v/#comment-133 Mr. Abdullatif has the Hermitage exactly right. It knocks you down by the sheer power of contents. Readers might be interested to know that just prior to crumbling of the old USSR, the Hermitage was literally crumbling itself. I was there in 1983 before the fall, and noted the poor condition of the rooms housing the art. In one of the French impressionists' room, a piece of plaster broke off the ceiling and shatered on the floor as I stood in front of a Monet. Talk about a distraction. I checked the condition of the plaster ceilings before I entered a gallery from then on, and there were some rooms I didn't enter due to the iffy nature of the ceilings. Nobody came to clean up the shards as I discovered when I returned to the room four hours later. Paint was peeling from the walls, dust and a sense of hopelessness was everywhere. Still, amid the dust and cracks flecks of paint on the floor, the beauty of the collection was stupifying, nor is the paradox lost on the visitor. Mr. Abdullatif has the Hermitage exactly right. It knocks you down by the sheer power of contents. Readers might be interested to know that just prior to crumbling of the old USSR, the Hermitage was literally crumbling itself.

I was there in 1983 before the fall, and noted the poor condition of the rooms housing the art. In one of the French impressionists’ room, a piece of plaster broke off the ceiling and shatered on the floor as I stood in front of a Monet. Talk about a distraction. I checked the condition of the plaster ceilings before I entered a gallery from then on, and there were some rooms I didn’t enter due to the iffy nature of the ceilings. Nobody came to clean up the shards as I discovered when I returned to the room four hours later. Paint was peeling from the walls, dust and a sense of hopelessness was everywhere.

Still, amid the dust and cracks flecks of paint on the floor, the beauty of the collection was stupifying, nor is the paradox lost on the visitor.

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