Well, I watched the subway doors close on David, on his way to the train station (and from there, to Riga, and from there, to Tallinn, and from there--?), gave a final salute, and caught my own train in the other direction, aware that I had just said goodbye to my last friend in St. Petersburg. Katey and David, my friends from Smolny who had decided to stay the summer, were both here on Smolny's invite; their visas expire on the 1st of July, which meant they had to be out of the country by then. Since before I arrived, Katey had been emailing and calling embassies in different countries to find out if they would grant a visa to foreign nationals: Finland denied her, Ukraine ignored her calls, UK evaded her questions and said they could get her a visa "if she met certain requirements". Finally Iceland gave her a straight affirmative answer, and for a few days we were all excited for her Icelandic adventure. However, at the last minute plans changed, and Katey caught a bus to Finland Saturday to fly from Helsinki to her home in Fort Worth, Texas, where she'll regroup and relax while her visa for the rest of the summer processes; she'll be back in three weeks. David's in the same boat; processing takes a few weeks, so he'd have to spend an indeterminate period of time in some other country (Scotland was his choice). However, he suddenly realized that he doesn't really HAVE to come back to Russia, and today he set off to backpack across Europe for a month, eventually ending up at a friend's place in Edinburgh before returning to the States.
And Andrey, apparently, decided to go to Finland for a week or two.
So I'm alone in my apartment, alone in this city (and how bizarre it is to be alone in a city of 5 million!), with a few (anglophone) acquaintances I've made since I returned whose numbers I have but have never called. I'd say I don't know what to do with myself, but there's so much I could be spending my time on that it's exhausting to think about. My research is...taking off:
It turns out the easiest way to get ahold of people in Russia is through...Vkontakte, which is--for the uninitiated, and may God save your soul--Russian facebook. Quite literally, Russian facebook; Vkontakte uses the old facebook layout from four or five years ago. Anyway, I found something like 15 or 20 of the 30 artists I'm hoping to meet, through mining Yuri's friends list (the extent to which St. Petersburg artists all know each other is absurd and oh-so-helpful!) Five of them replied to me; I've only got to call them and set up times. I'm meeting with Marina Koldobskaya tomorrow, and Anton Khlabov and Aleksandr Dashevskii want to set up interviews this week. Two more have emailed me; a few are out of the country until early July; and Svetlana Scherbinina, whom I've run into at Yuri's studio and at a vernissage early last week, has also agreed to interview whenever we find it convenient (perhaps when Andrey gets back from Finland; or maybe I'll film some myself?).
So, tons of meetings in the works. Each interview takes a bit of me, because I get so anxious about meeting new people and I'm afraid of asking stupid questions, freezing up, or seeming naive, ignorant, condescending, etc. Even in English it would be difficult; in Russian I have double the angst. I have to stare at the phone for a minute before I work up the nerve to dial the number and schedule a meeting. It's ridiculous, and I have to laugh a little at myself; this project is good for me. And in addition to the anxiety, I also have to do quite a bit of research before each interview to avoid wasting time with simple lack of preparation--I have to familiarize myself with the artist's work and their history, which involves a great deal of reading in Russian, googling, and tapping my fingers while the slow wi-fi takes its damn sweet time.
I'm also translating the exhibition catalog, which I got from Gleb Yershov at our interview. It's got some very interesting information about the origin of the Russian Beauty project and the nature of national/international contemporary art, plus a list of everyone I need to get in touch with and pictures of most or maybe all of the works shown at the Krasniy Treugol'nik factory last fall. This is a great way to spend my time when I'm not interviewing but still feel obligated to do some work; the catalog has 30-40 pages in articles/opinions.
NOT that I need to come up with ways to keep busy! I bought some sneakers recently, so I've been going running around my neighborhood in the mornings, then doing a little yoga before a shower and breakfast. I'm halfway through Simone de Beauvoir's autobiography (Force of Circumstance) and I read every chance I get; it's a thought-provoking, inspiring story, and I feel like I can learn a lot from her as a writer (duh.)
I play violin and accordion every day, working up the nerve to busk in the metro or the park. I make excursions to galleries and museums, walk up and down the canals and investigate new cafes, bookstores, grocery stores. On the weekend I'll go to the market at Udel'naya; the vendors usually present their new wares on Saturdays and that's when I'm likely to find the most exciting things. I picked up a carrying case for my accordion for 50 roubles yesterday, by coincidence. I was looking for a backpack, and I asked the old man how much for the "sack" he had spread out next to old books, silver spoons, broken pocketwatches, warped records. As I examined it, David pointed out that it had an appendage that looked as though it would fit snugly around the keyboard of the accordion. "Is this for an accordion?" I asked, and in a moment I had it crammed under my arm, pleased at the serendipitous find. Yes!
Today, I spent the afternoon walking around Tavricheskiy Sad (The Tauride Gardens) in the sun, eating plombir (soft-serve) with David and talking about how morally degenerate we are. Tavricheskiy Sad is the most beautiful place I've seen in St. Petersburg so far; I remember walking around there a little bit in November last year, and imagining how lovely it must be when the sun's out and the trees and flowers in full bloom. I had pneumonia, and I had pleaded with the doctors to let me take a walk, because I was sicker with boredom than with fluid in my lungs. They made sure I was completely bundled up, in hat and gloves and scarf, and let me out for a few hours to stroll around the neighborhood. I was allowed to go into a cafe, they said, and get some tea or coffee. Instead I wandered up and down the barren paths in the garden. Everything was grey and brown and frozen. Today it was like a different world. It's an hour's walk from where I live, but before David left he bequeathed me with his rickety old collapsible bike, which makes me significantly more mobile--or will, once I give it a little care and attention.
This week is going to be a long one, starting tomorrow; I need to find a camera to shoot my interviews, which...start tomorrow. I'd better get to sleep, or try--it's midnight and still light.
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