The Mel’nikov house [Ð”Ð¾Ð¼ ÐœÐµÐ»ÑŒÐ½Ð¸ÐºÐ¾Ð²Ð°]: A retrospective evaluation

Posted by Ross Wolfe

An embarrassing admission: I’ve never been too keen on the Mel’nikov house.

This may seem odd coming from someone who just signedÂ a petition calling for the preservation of Mel’nikov’s works and heritage. Not least among these is his famous house, which the experts say is presently “under threat.”Â A campaign to restore and maintain the aging structure â€”Â spearheaded by a talented young photographer currently residing in Moscow, Natalia MelikovaÂ â€” has already managed to muster a great deal of publicity. Coverage of this effort has not been limited to Russian press, either, though several articles have recently appeared in well-established news outlets like Ð˜Ð·Ð²ÐµÑÑ‚Ð¸Ñ (an old heavyweight, now in an online edition). Even before they began reporting in the vernacular, however, Sophia Kishkovsky ran a story on it for The New York Times‘ ArtBeat section back in April.

Unsurprisingly, the motion to preserve the Mel’nikov house has enjoyed an outpouring ofÂ support from a number of high-profile scholars and architects. Many readers of this blog are no doubt that my own stance on this issue has been one of deep ambivalence, despite my reluctant signature and endorsement of the letter. Basically, my reservations were as follows:

As a student of history and a great admirer of Melâ€™nikovâ€™s architectural corpus (built and unbuilt), I am of course in favor of maintaining and restoring the many iconic examples of his work that remain. But knowing that pitiless, unsentimental attention to the demands of technical turnover and the imperative to overturn obsolescence formed part and parcel of the worldview animating Soviet modernism, it is impossible to deny the irony of the wish to preserve buildings that no longer serve any meaningful function â€”Â except, perhaps, as a physical reminder of the project that was once underway in Russia. Nothing would seem so preposterous to an avant-garde architect of the time than to cling to the past out of melancholy or nostalgia, let alone museumify it.

Whatever the reasons or principles I invoked, these are not the subject of today’s post. Just having stumbled upon a trove of rare images showing the building’s plan, a bisectable small-scale model of its proportions, and some rare photographs of its construction and eventual realization, I thought I’d post them along with some reflections on its strengths and weaknessesÂ visâ€“Ã â€“visÂ housing projects by other architects of that time, as well as its place within Mel’nikov’s own corpus. Since I suspect my opinion belongs to that rather tiny, discordant minority of Soviet architecture geeks who don’t instantly kvell over the Mel’nikov house, we’ll first offer an expiation in advance of the outrage that might follow. And so, without any further ado, here are some of the plans and sketches for the house.

Plans, paintings, sketches

Konstantin Mel'nikov, preliminary sketches conceptualizing the house (1927)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, preliminary sketch conceptualizing the house (1927)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, early formulation of the hexagonal windows, accompanied by notes (1927)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, more developed sketch with notes and early plans (1927)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, rendering of the facade with straightforwardly ascending staircases (1927)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, blueprint with floorplan for the hoose (1927)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, advanced rendering of the interior with spiral staircase (1927)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, advanced rendering of the exterior featuring interlocking uneven cylinders (1927)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, paintings of the bedroom in icon-like gold (1929)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, painting of the bedroom in icon-like gold (1929)

Konstantin Mel’nikov, preliminary proposal for a housing commune modeled on his individual dwelling unit (1929)

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Enough already: What’s not to like about the Mel’nikov house? Continue reading →

Plus Ã§a change, plus c’est la mÃªme chose

Posted by Ross Wolfe

On old and new
in modern times

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Image:Â Umberto Boccioni,
Charge of the Lancers (1913)

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What follows are just a few quotations I’ve assembled from various authors on the peculiar way time operates in modern society, or “modernity” considered as the temporal index of capitalism. They’re here presented more or less in fragmentary outline, without much commentary or exegesis. Nevertheless, I feel like they all revolve around a common theme, and that they have a certain cumulative effect when grouped together. Please pardon me, however, if they don’t possess the kind of self-evidence I impute to them. It may just be me.

In January 1849, only six months after “the first great battle was fought between the two classes that split modern society”Â â€” that is, the proletariat and bourgeoisie â€”Â just blocks from his apartment, the Parisian journalist Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr unwittingly stumbled upon the temporality that characterizes the capitalist mode of production in a casual quip:

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr, epigram (1849) Continue reading →

Persona non grata

Posted by Ross Wolfe

So it’s finally happened. I’ve been officially declared a “persona non grata” by the elected leadership of theÂ Platypus Affiliated SocietyÂ â€” the Organizational Committee or OrgComm, if you prefer (in a delightfully Soviet portmanteau). An e-mail was sent out earlier today specifying that I’m no longer to be invited to any of its functions or events, and even actively discouraged from attending. OfÂ course, this proclamation was circulated “internally,” on the Platypus listserve, but as everyone knows these things are never that secret anyway.

For many of you, this will come as quite a surprise, considering my outspoken support for the group in the past and repeated arguments against calls to boycott or shun it. Now, it would appear, I myself am to be shunned by the very group I’ve publicly defended on numerous occasions. Let it be known that I do not rescind any of these arguments, as I still consider most of the motions that counsel disengagement with the organization either pointless or unprincipled. In fact, despite the advice of the many who’ve told me I’m “better off without them” or assured me that “Platypus is just holding [me] back,” I continue to find the stated goals of the organization honorable and most of its methods unobjectionable, whatever complaints may be made regarding its needlessly vituperative internal rhetoric. Also, though some others treat the entire outfit as some kind of sad joke â€” and find its various panels, fora, and publications overwrought, if not simply boring â€” I stand my past statements that I often find them illuminating and insightful. Continue reading →

Thomas Jefferson: American Jacobin?

Posted by Ross Wolfe

The American revolutionary
on the French Revolution

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Image:Â Portrait of Thomas Jefferson
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On Independence Day, in anticipation of Bastille Day, here’s author of the Declaration of Independence Thomas Jefferson on the French Revolution: Continue reading →

Der Palast der Sowjets: Entries by German architects to the Palace of the Soviets competition

Posted by Ross Wolfe

Hans Poelzig [Ð“Ð°Ð½Ñ ÐŸÐ¾Ð»Ñ†Ð¸Ð³]

Hans Poelzig, Palast der Sowjets (1931)

Poelzig Hans (1869-1936): Palast der Sowjets, Moskau

Hans Poelzig, Palast der Sowjets (1931)

Walter Gropius [Ð’Ð°Ð»ÑŒÑ‚ÐµÑ€ Ð“Ñ€Ð¾Ð¿Ð¸ÑƒÑ]

Walter Gropius, drawing of a proposal for the Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Walter Gropius, plan for the Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Walter Gropius, model of a proposal for the Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Walter Gropius, proposal for the Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Walter Gropius, drawing of a proposal for the Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Hannes Meyer [Ð“Ð°Ð½Ð½ÐµÑ ÐœÐ°Ð¹ÐµÑ€]

Hannes Meyer’s submission to the Palace of the Soviets competition

Hannes Meyer’s submission to the Palace of the Soviets competition, view from above

Hannes Meyer’s submission to the Palace of the Soviets competition

Erich Mendelsohn [Ð•Ñ€Ð¸Ñ… ÐœÐµÐ½Ð´ÐµÐ»ÑŒÑÐ¾Ð½]

Erich Mendelsohn, plan for the submission to the Palace of the Soviets competition (1931)

Erich Mendelsohn, model of the submission to the Palace of the Soviets competition (1931)

“The Soviet Union and modern architectureâ€Â (1932)

Hans Schmidt

Translated from the German by Eric Dluhosch.
El Lissitzky,Â Russia: An Architecture for World Revolution.
(MIT Press. Cambridge, MA: 1970).

â€¢ â€¢ â€¢

The outcome of the competition for the Palace of the Soviets has filled all radical architects in the West with indignation and disbelief. We have no intention of using this occasion to mollify their outrage; on the contrary, it is incombent upon us to inform the reader in the same breath that the decision was neither accidental nor an isolated occurrence. In fact, a limited competition among ten Soviet architects has been held and since and has yielded similar results. At the same time, however, we do consider it our duty to give our Western colleagues a more objective picture of the architectural situation in the Soviet Union and to put into perspective those matters that have been misunderstood and distorted by overexposure and sensation-seeking publicity. In our case, the attempt to be objective reflects the desire to look at modern architecture not simply as a completed phenomenon, but as a process intimately connected to all the social, political, and technical manifestations of a whole culture.

Let us first attempt briefly to trace developments as faras the West is concerned. The present situation of modern architecture in the West has come about as the result of a long struggle, with many interacting and mutually interdependent movements often appearing to be countermanding each other, as for example the Arts and Crafts Movement in England, the Dutch Rationalist Movement (Berlage), the Art Nouveau Movement, the Fin de SiÃ¨cle Movement, etc. The bourgeoisie of the nineteenth century, which after the French Revolution had at first decided to take over the styles bequeathed by feudalism, later attempted by movements such as those mentioned to evolve their own cultural forms in architecture as well as in other fields of artistic endeavor. It is significant to note that all these early attempts had one thing in common: they all tried to find their outlets within the context of high capitalism. As a result of this we had a revival of the Arts and Crafts Movement, the negation of the metropolis, the embracing of social ideas, i.e., garden cities for the workers, etc. Under the influence of technical developments in the last phase of capitalism, and as a result of rationalization and standardization, the real program of modern architecture eventually came into existence, demanding absolute unity between art form and technical form, both firmly rooted in developed capitalist technology. Even here, social ideas crept in, such as the notion that prosperity for all could be solved simply be harnessing capitalism to modern technology. The realization that this was not necessarily the case had as its consequence the eventual decision by the left wing of modern architecture to embrace the idea of Socialism. Continue reading →

Stalinism in art and architecture, or, the first postmodern style

Posted by Ross Wolfe

Book Review:

Boris Groysâ€™ The Total Art of Stalinism

Vladimir Papernyâ€™s Architecture in
the Age of Stalin: Culture Two

Originally published by Situations: Project for the Radical Imagination (Vol. V, No. 1). You can view a free PDF of the document here.

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Last year, the English translations of two major works of art and architectural criticism from the late Soviet period were rereleased with apparently unplanned synchronicity. A fresh printing of Vladimir Papernyâ€™s Architecture in the Age of Stalin: Culture Two (2002, [ÐšÑƒÐ»ÑŒÑ‚ÑƒÑ€Ð° Ð”Ð²Ð°, 1985]) was made available in June 2011 by Cambridge University Press. Verso Books, having bought the rights to the Princeton University Press translation of Boris Groysâ€™ Total Art of Stalinism (1993 [Gesamtkunstwerk Stalin, 1988]), republished the work in a new edition. This hit the shelves shortly thereafter, only two months after Papernyâ€™s book was reissued.

Each book represents an attempt, just prior to the Soviet Unionâ€™s collapse, to come to grips with the legacy of its artistic and architectural avant-garde of the 1920s, as well as the problematic character of the transition to Socialist Realism and neoclassicism in the mid-1930s, lasting up until Stalinâ€™s death in 1953. Not only do Papernyâ€™s and Groysâ€™ writings follow a similar trajectory, however: they intersect biographically as well. The two authors knew each other prior to their emigration from the USSR and still maintain a close personal friendship. But their arguments should not for that reason be thought identical. Paperny began his research much earlier, in the mid-1970s, and Groysâ€™ own argument is clearly framed in part as a polemical response to his colleagueâ€™s claims.

Left: Vladimir Paperny, painted by Diana Vouba;
Right: Boris Groys painted by Luca Debaldo

Both can be seen to constitute a reaction, moreover, to the dull intellectual climate of official academic discourse on the subject during the Brezhnev era. In his introduction to the English version of Papernyâ€™s book, Groys recalls the â€œbackground of almost total theoretical paralysisâ€ against which it first appeared in 1979. â€œ[I]t felt like breathing fresh air in the stale intellectual atmosphere [of Moscow] at the time,â€ he wrote.¹ Indeed, Eastern Marxismâ€™s most talented aesthetic theorists after the expulsion of Trotskii were by and large conservatives â€” the repentant Georg LukÃ¡cs or his equally repentant protÃ©gÃ© Mikhail Lifshits, each an apologist for the Zhdanovshchina and hostile to modernism. After destalinization commenced in 1956, following Khrushchevâ€™s â€œsecret speech,â€ the tables were turned. Socialist realism and neoclassicism were out; the heroic avant-garde movements of the 1920s were back in (albeit in the diluted, vulgarized form typical of Khrushchev). With the rise of Brezhnev in the mid-1960s, the thaw came to a close. But full-fledged Stalinism was not reinstated, at least not in the realms of art or architecture. Now neither alternative â€” modernism nor Stalinism â€” appeared in a particularly favorable light. That they had existed was accepted on a purely factual basis, as part of the historical record. Expressing an opinion on either, however, much less an interpretation, was generally considered unwise. Continue reading →

Conversations on the Left: What is to be done?

Posted by Ross Wolfe

Bhaskar Sunkara, James Turley, & Ben Blumberg

Platypus Review 57Â | June 2013

On April 18th, 2013, the Platypus Affiliated Society organized a conversation at New York University between Bhaskar Sunkara, the editor ofÂ Jacobin, James Turley of the Communist Party of Great Britain, and Ben Blumberg of Platypus, to discuss the differences and similarities between their organizations. What follows is an edited transcript of the discussion.

Bhaskar Sunkara: It is impossible to deny that the Communist Party of Great Britainâ€™s (CPGB)Â Weekly WorkerÂ is an important publication. It is a publication that is right about many things, without a doubt more right than their peers on the British left, and their ideas deserve more engagement, so I am very pleased that Platypus has us together on this panel. There is no regular party publication on the American left that comes close to theÂ Weekly Workerâ€™sÂ competence, especially considering the small size and resources of the CPGB. They have been consistently against the perversion of democratic centralism and lack of accountability by the leadership in groups like the Socialist Workers Party (SWP). I have been reading it for a couple of years and I think they have a really nuanced view of Trotskyismâ€™s legacy. They also have a solid critique of Eurocommunism and other coalition politics. What I like most of all is their openness about their small size and their limited influence as an organization. For someone like me, who has been around the Left and its posturing, we atÂ JacobinÂ think theÂ Weekly WorkerÂ is far more refreshing and useful than organs that herald the coming of every new socialist movement as if it is going to resurrect the Left. Platypusâ€™s approach is also sometimes useful on this point.Â JacobinÂ doesnâ€™t share the same politics, but only because we are operating in different contexts. We aim to reach a different audience.Â Jacobin, as a political project, is a publication that cannot substitute for the role of a political organization or the role of a party. It also cannot have the uncompromising and coherent vision and perspective of a propaganda group. And it is subject to lots of different pressures and forces â€” such as the market and the petty-bourgeois culture of writing and publishing.

Our different orientations affect whom we are trying to reach.Â JacobinÂ was always two projects. It is something of an intra-left project: emphasizing a Marxist perspective towards organization building. But our main project has been an outwardly directed one: engaging with American liberalism. We have always been geared towards the general public. We are liberals articulating radical ideas and we do so in a way that is clear and accessible. If we have any measure of mainstream success, it is intentional. We have sought to be a terrain for deep theoretical debates. It has been said that we are visible reminders of a long-forgotten socialist tradition, which would define us politically somewhere in between Leninism and the Democratic Socialists of America. One result of this is that the level of politicization ofÂ Jacobinâ€™sÂ readership is not quite the same as the level of politicization of our editors, and you could probably say there is a lot more political parity between the readership and the editors of theÂ Weekly WorkerÂ and theÂ Platypus Review.

James Turley: The CPGB is not a party. It doesnâ€™t exist; it is a name. The name comes from the older official communist party that has since wound up. The name represents an ideal that we look towards. The far left is divided into small propaganda circles and some of them deny that they do propaganda. The SWP would be a good example; the International Socialist Organization (ISO) is another. They think they are talking to the masses, but it is bad propaganda reaching a mass audience. The CPGB identifies openly as a propaganda group and so probably would the International Bolshevik Tendency (IBT) or the Spartacist League. So there is a very similar landscape out of which the CPGB of the 1920s was formed. The original CPGB was formed from one wing of the Socialist Labour Party, which was a kind of syndicalist sect, and the large majority of the British Socialist Party. At that time, it was a far-left Marxist sect rather than the mass party form that existed in continental Europe. Along with the South Wales committee, their forces together totaled about four to five thousand. If you add up the people in Britain today committed to some form of socialist revolution, you get a ballot figure of about five thousand. After 70â€“90 intervening years we are, in a sense, back where we started. That says something about the 20thÂ century. Continue reading →

On massive vs. curvilinear structures

Posted by Ross Wolfe

from a fragment by an
unknown modernist

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Image:Â Nikolai Ladovskii, scheme for the
“green city” [Ð·ÐµÐ»ÐµÐ½Ñ‹Ð¹ Ð³Ð¾Ñ€Ð¾Ð´] in Moscow (1930)
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Not all forms of fatness are structurally equal. It’s one thing to be “curvy”; it’s quite another to be an amorphous blob.

Part of it consists in weight.
Another part in distribution.
Maybe it’s in their balance.

General plan of Moscow (1935): The shapeless Moscow amoeba accumulating layers, rings, and folds

Le Corbusier’s project for the Palace of the Soviets (1928-1931)

Posted by Ross Wolfe

The Radiant City:Â ElementsÂ for a doctrine
ofÂ urbanismÂ for the machine ageÂ (1933)

Le Corbusier

The Main Auditorium: an audience of 15,000. Open-air platform: 50,000 people. And perfectly regulated acoustics. Small auditorium: 6,500 people. Huge crowds can move about at their case ofÂ the esplanade. Cars are on a lower level; the parking lot is beneath the auditoriums.

General ground-level plan:Â The natural declivities of the ground are left untouched. Automobiles are assigned a circuit on either side, in the open or underground. The circuit leads to the various entrances: an automatic classification of all visitors.Â Pedestrians never come into contact with cars. (There can be 25,000 people inside the Palace, and 50,000 more on the open-air platform).

Le Corbusier’s sketches of the Palais des Soviets

Interior to Le Corbusier’s Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Le Corbusier’s Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Le Corbusier – Palais des Soviets, Moscow, Russia (1930)

Le Corbusier, variations on the design for the Palais des Soviets sketched between October 23 and November 22, 1931

Le Corbusier, variations on the design for the Palais des Soviets November 1931

Le Corbusier, variation on the design for the Palais des Soviets (November 1931)

Le Corbusier, variation on the design for the Palais des Soviets (October 1931)

Le Corbusier, variation on the design for the Palais des Soviets (November 1931)

1932: Project for the Palace of the Soviets in Moscow

1928-1931 Moscow classified traffic system

The ground is devoted to movement: pedestrians, cars.

Everything above the ground (the buildings) is devoted to stability.

No similarity between the two. The ground beneath the buildings must be freed, for regularÂ streams of cars and lakes of pedestrians. The streams flow directly to certain entrances; the pedestriansÂ are widely scattered. This makes for a new economy of layout.

The streams of cars can flow in sunken beds or along elevated highways. Starting 5 meters aboveÂ the ground, buildings take on definite shape. Distribution of traffic has been achieved below, on the ground.

Here, the dynamic functions: distribution of sorts of traffic.

(Pilotis on the ground level).

Here, the static function is expressed by offices, club, and auditorium.Â 1928. Palace of Light Industry (first called the Tsentrosoiuz) in Moscow. Now built.

Le Corbusier at a conference in Moscow, 1928

Le Corbusier in Moscow, with Andrei Burov and Aleksandr Vesnin (1928)

Le Corbusier with the Vesnin brothers and Andrei Burov in Moscow (1928)

Le Corbusier in Moscow, with Andrei Burov and others(1928)

Le Corbusier sitting with Soviet modernist architect Andrei Burov (1928)

Le Corbusier, Sergei Eisenstein, and Andrei Burov in Moscow (1928)

Le Corbusier with Sergei Eisenstein and Andrei Burov (1928)

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Here, the dynamic functions: distribution of sorts of traffic.

(Pilotis on the ground level).

Here, the static function is expressed by offices, club, and auditorium.Â 1928. Palace of Light Industry (first called the Tsentrosoiuz) in Moscow. Now built.

Tsentrosoiuz: Plans, models, site visits

Le Corbusier, plan for Tsentrosoiuz (1928)

Model of Nikolai Kolli and Le Corbusier’s Tsentrosoiuz building in Moscow, 1928

Le Corbusier surveys the work site for the Tsentrosoiuz building in Moscow (1931)

Le Corbusier surveys the work site with workers for the Tsentrosoiuz building in Moscow (1931)

Le Corbusier, model of Tsentrosoiuz (1928)

Corbusier’s Tsentrosoiuz building under construction in Moscow, 1931

Le Corbusier with Nikolai Kolli in front of the construction site for the Tsentrosoiuz building in Moscow (March 1930)

Le Corbusier sitting in front of the construction site for the Tsentrosoiuz building (March 1931)

Master plan for the urbanization of the city of Moscow

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In 1931, Moscow officials sent me a questionnaire, admirably thought out,Â about the city’s reorganization. If only all cities would send out such questionnaires! Their lot would be improved.

The theoretical drawings of the “Radiant City” were made in order toÂ answer this questionnaire. They form a theory of urbanization for modern times.

My “Answer to Moscow” caused an unexpected reaction: its technicalÂ aspects were hailed in flattering terms. But the cornerstone of my work wasÂ freedom of the individual, and this was held against me. Doctrinal vehemenceÂ prevented any worthwhile discussion. Capitalist? bourgeois? proletarian? MyÂ only answer is a term expressing my line of conduct and my ingrained revolutionary attitude: human. My professional duty, as architect and city planner, is toÂ achieve what is human.

Charitable colleagues â€” Frenchmen, too, and far from being “Reds” â€” proclaimed to all who would listen or read, “that I wanted to destroy Moscow.”Â Whereas they themselves, if only they were called upon, would, etc.â€¦

The plate which appears opposite (last in the “Radiant City” series), is notÂ a program for Moscow’s destruction but on the contrary, for its construction.Â It shows zoning and axes of movement along which the city could gradualIyÂ achieve a position of supple ease, expansion without difficulty, and so forth.Â This plate shows a specimen of urban biology.

So far, only the International Congress for Modem Architecture, theÂ C.I.A.M. has required its members to seek the lines of vital communication which can bring a city into efficient contact with its surroundingÂ region. (A task which will fall to the 5th Congress).

Corbu’s iconic model of the Palais des Soviets

Urbanistic overview of Le Corbusier’s plans for the Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Le Corbusier working with an assistant in modeling his Palace of the Soviets proposal (1930)

Model of Le Corbusier’s proposal for the Palace of the Soviets competition (1931)

Model of Le Corbusier’s proposal for the Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Le Corbusier, model of the Palais des Soviets in Moscow, Russia (1932)

Le Corbusier unveiling the model of his proposal for the Palace of the Soviets (1931)

Palace of the Soviets in Moscow

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The administration building, on the left, is independentÂ of the ground. Not only is the ground freed but,Â moreover, the expanse of open space beneath theÂ building forms a highly architectural frame for theÂ landscape seen in the background.

On the right, impressive ramps lead the way toÂ the open-air platform for 50,000 people.

By contrast, 15,000 can reach the main auditoriumÂ from ground level by means of a continuousÂ inclined plane, becoming concave until it reaches theÂ seats. No stairways, not even a single step can beÂ tolerated in a public building â€”Â and certainly notÂ “monumental” stairways!

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Le Corbusier standing next to a Russian peasant woman (1928)

Le Corbusier standing in front of a traditional wooden Russian peasant house (1928)

Corbusier in the USSR
Space, Time, and Architecture (1941)

Sigfried Giedion

Le Corbusier’s Geneva plan remained a project, but the principlesÂ embodied in it were partially realized in the Tsentrosoiuz at Moscow (1928-34). The erection of the Tsentrosoiuz â€”Â nowÂ the Ministry of Light Industry â€”Â was retarded partly byÂ the requirements of the Five-Year Plan and partly by theÂ emergence of an architectural reaction. It was one of the lastÂ modern structures erected in Russia.

Le Corbusier with Sigfried Giedion and Gabriel Guervekian
at La Sarraz for the founding of CIAM (1928)

Le Corbusier’s design for the Palace of the Soviets (1931) fellÂ within the period of Stalinist reaction. With the ceiling of theÂ great hall suspended on wire cables from a parabolic curve, it was Le Corbusier’s boldest accomplishment up toÂ that time. In 1931 the realization of this project or any of theÂ other contemporary schemes, such as those by Gropius and Â Breuer and by the sculptor [Naum] Gabo, was no longer conceivable inÂ the U.S.S.R.

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Russian translation of Le Corbusier’s 1925
classic, Urbanisme [ÐŸÐ»Ð°Ð½Ð¸Ñ€Ð¾Ð²ÐºÐ° Ð³Ð¾Ñ€Ð¾Ð´Ð°]

The other Trotsky

Posted by Ross Wolfe

Noi Abramovich (1895-1940)

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Image:Â Noi Abramovich Trotskii, Leningrad 1929

Not Lev Davidovich [Ð›ÐµÐ² Ð”Ð°Ð²Ð¸Ð´Ð¾Ð²Ð¸Ñ‡]. The architect, Noi Abramovich [ÐÐ¾Ð¹ ÐÐ±Ñ€Ð°Ð¼Ð¾Ð²Ð¸Ñ‡], rather. No relation, obviously. It’s Bronshtein, remember?

Here are some examples of his work.