Womens’ correctional facilities are the ultimate sleep-over party with all the trappings: pajamas, bunk beds, in-fighting, sloppy joes, getting touched up under the covers, and being told when to go to bed. Some prisons even let the girls play dress-up. Miss America, meet Miss Demeanor:
To be fair, it’s primarily inmates who organize these shows. It’s an increasingly popular phenomenon, with womens’ prisons hosting beauty pageants in Russia, Brazil, Peru, Honduras, Angola and the Philippines, amongst others, with working titles like Miss Captivity. The idea is to ‘boost’ the self-esteem of (at least the better looking portion of) the prison population.
There is arguably an obvious exploitative angle in this, one which perpetuates gender and class divisions in a place where women are their most vulnerable. The media is only too happy to join in, throwing the spotlight on the tragedy of a pretty young woman in distress, putting herself on display. A beauty contest under these conditions probably does next to nothing for the self esteem or prospects of the contestants in any meaningful way.
It’s almost a perverse caricature of a parole board hearing in a Van Halen video, an effort to charm your way into garnering favour from you captors and respite from your situation by any measure necessary. Having said that, spending years trapped like an animal in a gray, clinical dorm framed in razor wire, any warm-blooded woman would thirst for anything beautiful in her world. Participation in these productions transiently refashions the contestant from a shoplifter or drug addict into a graceful, sophisticated and beautiful person of seeming worth, if only for one evening. Who could condemn the contestants for their humble aspirations and for enjoying an event which breaks up the tedium of Gilligan’s Island re-runs on prison TV?
Ah, Soviet socio-political satire, ah Russian dystopia. Could anything be greater than a combination of both, in movie format? Unlikely, says Kin Dza-Dza! - a minimal and clever sci-fi masterpiece from the ’80s. Written and directed by revered director Georgi Daneliya, this film from my early years was only allowed to see the light of day thanks to its creator’s reputation. The plot revolves around the story of two oddballs who accidentally teleport to the mysterious planet Pluk in the Kin Dza-Dza galaxy. Fiddler and Uncle Vova unwittingly activate a device belonging to a hobo who claims to be an alien, and the fun begins.
Pluk’s inhabitants are a strange bunch; far advanced in technology, though scarcely evolved socially, with command of only a 2-word vocabulary. They look exactly like humans, have the power of telepathy, yet use a tool that divides all being into two groups - superior and inferior. Uncle Vova and Fiddler have many interesting encounters in store, and much to overcome if they’re ever to make it home.
Kin Dza-Dza! is rich with [not entirely subtle] critique of Communism and the poignant bitter humor I expect from Soviet Era films along with crunchy puns, rust, dust, and a Mad Maxy landscape throughout. Steampunk costumes and gadgets make appearances and are actually utilized in a way that makes sense! It’s a shame this Russian cult favorite isn’t better known - I deem it worthy of the pickiest sci-fi fans, provided they can get past the complete lack of any special effects.
When I returned to Moscow after 14 years things had changed. A lot. My Russian slang was suddenly dated, most older women had fire engine red hair and there were superior coffee shops everywhere. To adjust and get a better feel of the Motherland I spent my evenings watching television.
Moskva Instruktsiya, or Moscow Instruction, is a program claiming to be a guide to Moscow’s growing subcultures. Conventionally attractive (and somewhat condescending) hostesses serve as the viewers’ chaperones to the underground. While the show is informative and uses now edgy propaganda art-inspired titles it does feel like the reality TV exploitation we’re used to here in the States. Interesting nonetheless is this piece of Instruktsiya gold YouTube so generously provided. I give you Russian Emo, Punks and Cyber Goths on Moskva Instruktsiya.
This Yakut winter spirit is akin to the Russian Grandfather Frost [more on him later]. Bull of Frost resides in the coldest part of Siberia and is a representation of the Mammoth according to Yakutian shaman traditions. His robes are adorned with traditional tribal patterns and beads in addition to seasonal snowflakes.
In ancient Yakut folklore, the Mammoth is a subterranean creature that breaks thick winter ice with his horns, and these horns are represented in this costume as part of the headdress. Because of their presumed underground dealings Mammoths were also associated with the world of the dead, the realm in which shamans ruled. Shamans communed with Mammoth spirits in rituals and immortalized them in art and amulets which are found in Siberia and Russia even in present day.
This image came from a storybook I had as a child. Whenever I look at it now, my heart still jumps up to my throat. In this image, Vasilisa the Beautiful, wandering through the forest, comes to the hut of Baba Yaga. The hut surrounded by strange lights, lights that emanate from the skulls of Baba Yaga’s victims. Vasilisa picks up one of these and uses it as a lantern, guiding her way as she walks on the dark path.
You can read the entire story here, complete with all of the amazing illustrations by the artist, Igor Bilibin. My other three images from the same storybook are the following three:
Taken from Old Russia, an amazing resource page of Bilibin’s Art and the stories that accompany it. Bless this person for taking the time to translate all of it.
Mikhail Vrubel is not particularly well-known in the West but he remains one of the greatest and certainly one of the most unique artists Russia’s ever produced. Most of his best-known work is inspired by fairy tales and poetry, and his own life was a sort dark fable in itself.
The Swan Princess (the artist’s wife)
Born in Siberia, Mikhail lost two of his siblings when he was still a child. Their untimely deaths affected him deeply, but didn’t stop him from developing his talent for drawing, among other widely varying interests. His family encouraged his interest in the arts and languages and in 1864 he began to study in St. Petersburg where he was educated in both law and art.
EnglishRussia always knows what I need. And what I need, apparently, is an electric bodybuilder. Few things are as helpful here in the 21st century as a shiny robotic companion. While some might be using their model for heavy lifting and dubious pleasure activities, I would use my Russian meat machine primarily for kitchen duties, such as greasing skillets. Be sure to have the sound on when watching.
I still don’t understand who I am: the first human or the last dog in space. - Yuri Gagarin
It was on November 3, 1957 - fifty years ago today that Laika took flight. Her ship circled the Earth 2,570 times, burning upon re-entering the atmosphere on April 14, 1958. She didn’t see the stars or the moon, as Sputnik 2 was not equipped with windows but she felt, if only briefly, what humanity had longed for so desperately.
Today, I want you to take a moment and think of her out there; stray mutt picked off the streets of Moscow, in her little capsule. Paving the way for us all.
Halloween is very nearly upon us. While it’s most often misrepresented by items such as this, I refuse to let commercial culture rob me of this treasured holiday’s mystery. Ёжик в Tумaне (Hedgehog in the Fog), the eerie masterpiece of Russian animation featured in this post, could have easily been part of the “what made me weird” article - it affected me greatly as a kid, feeding my hungry chimera and igniting within my fevered brain the very spirit of adventure. I like to think this was the exact intended effect.
The story is simple: Hedgehog is on his way to pay his friend, the Bear Cub, a visit. They often meet for tea and count stars together. This time Hedgehog’s prepared a special raspberry jam for the occasion. Oh his walk he sees a strange white horse in the evening fog. The fog is so thick that Hedgehog wonders whether the horse would suffocate if it were to lie down in it. The beautiful animation drips with symbolism as the Hedgehog, driven by his curiosity, steps inside the fog and into another world. He’s lost and faced with fear, loneliness, hostility and eventual redemption.
Ever-present in my subconscious, Hedgehog In The Fog is a living dream, an embodiment of fascination with the great Unknown.
By the way of Mister Kris Ether, a collection of jaw-dropping Yakov Chernikov drawings. Doesn’t this one resemble a rocket, ready for takeoff? Yes, this is my future, tovarish Chernikov. Thank you.
From the funny writeup on Dark Roasted Blend: “Only too appropriate for the “Evil Empire”, the colossal palaces and Pantheons would dominate the city, squash the last vestiges of soul, and yet strangely excite in their surreal dark presence.“
