Splatter matters
A photographer finds accidental art in Moscow’s streets
WILL WEBSTER LOVES RUSSIAN PAINTING.
Yet the British-born, Moscow-based fine art photographer isn’t turning his lens on Kandinsky, Malevich or the Constructivists. Instead, Webster has found beauty in the careless splashes left by municipal workmen, as they cover public buildings and street furniture in a protective, colourful coat.
“People who used to paint public spaces during Soviet times could rely on getting paid no matter how well they painted a row of railings,” explains the 35-year-old snapper, who sells limited-edition prints of his work and plans to compile the images in a coffee table book.
While casual observers might see these bright splodges as testament to Slavic sloppiness, Webster says that they paint a more nuanced picture of the national character.
“Russia is a place of extremes,” he says, “between rich and poor, cold and hot weather, friend and enemy. Vibrant, primal colours give you hope, when the weather is so grey and bleak, even if they’re only decorating an old pipe.”
And the clumsy brush strokes? The photographer quotes the memorable saying of former Prime Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin, a description of his disastrous mismanagement of the ruble, but now a popular phrase among Russia’s fatalists: “We wanted the best, but it turned out as always.” Alex Rayner www.tagfinearts.com www.willwebster.com
Snow joke
SOME PEOPLE DREAM OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS but not Moscow mayor Yuri Luzhkov. He doesn’t want a white Christmas, white New Year, January, February or March. The mayor has vowed to send up planes to turn away heavy snow clouds heading for the city this winter, saying it will help the metropolis’s huge traffic problems.
Luzhkov has a reputation for madcap ideas: he was keen to divert Russia’s huge Siberian rivers to Central Asia in a move that environmentalists say would be an ecological catastrophe, and he already directs the weather on public holidays, sending planes up to disperse clouds in the sky so the sun will shine on the city. The craft drop cement powder, dry ice or silver iodide in clouds at a cost of over £1 million for each holiday.
“You know how every year on City Day and Victory Day we create the weather?” said Luzhkov earlier this year when discussing his idea. “Well, we should do the same with the snow! Then outside Moscow there will be more moisture, a bigger harvest, while for us it won’t snow as much.”
However, the city has seen noticeably less snow in recent years, and Luzhkov’s idea is not a guaranteed vote winner.
“Moscow without snow,” wrote one local blogger, “Childhood without snowball fights and snowmen. That can’t happen, it is an outrage. A person should be affected by the weather and not the other way round.”
But if the streets are clear this New Year, you’ll know the planes have done their work. Kevin O’Flynn
