Obviously, I could not resist to seek out
just that stall, if only because it was so
obviously different from all the other
stalls. I suspected the photographs to
be old photographs, prints and
postcards, but when I started browsing
I soon realized that all photographs
were real prints on photographic
paper. The man lay down his pipe,
looked up at me from his stool and
asked me whether I liked the photos.
"They are very nice," I told him, and he
nodded thankfully. He then stood up,
and with his pipe tapped on the picture
that I had in my hands. "That's me, a
long time ago," he said, chuckling. I
took a good look at the picture and in
fact, upon closer inspection the funny
guy jumping into a christmas tree really
did look like a much younger version of
the bearded fifty-something vendor.
He went on to explain that all the
pictures at his stall are his own, and
that he has been a photographer for
over thirty years. St Petersburg,
however, still does not bore him and he
is not afraid he will run out of material.
All the pictures on this page were taken
by 'Valentine' (as he presented
himself) and all but the view of Palace
Square were taken only one week
before I arrived in Russia.
I told him I liked his recent pictures best
and that I'd like to buy some. He seems
very happy and starts to give further
explanation of the six pictures I have
selected.
The Dostoyevski Quarter is 'not for
tourists' as he puts it. " You don't see
St Petersburg like this, but it is just
around the corner," he explained. The
picture was taken during the day with
the street completely desolate, but in
the evening and during the night, men
and women alike sit on the wooden
crates visible in a circular set-up in the
foreground. "They light a fire in the
middle of the cirle and drink vodka.
The quantity of vodka is inversely
proportionate to the temperature
outside," and he looks at me with a big
smile in his beard. His slurred speech,
smile and watery eyes make me
wonder whether he had participated in
one of these events only last night.
The second picture is really a portrait
of one of his friends, a young
Canadian who is likewise into
photography. Valentine is very proud
of the effect he has obtained shooting
this picture through the broken window
of a shopfront.
The two words he uses to describe the
four ladies seated on a bench are
'Spice Girls', and he laughs another
one of his infectious laughs. I had to
laugh too, until I realised that this
photographer thus knew who the Spice
Girls were and I abruptly shut up,
slightly embarrased as if I had
personally imported the Spice Girls into
Russia.
>> the story continues here
Valentine
eye of
St Petersburg
|
I met Valentine at a small market not far from the Church on Spilled Blood. The
market was clearly a spot marked out for tourists: the Russian vendors all
spoke English and almost every single one of them proudly displayed their 'we
accept all major credit cards' sign. Most stalls sold semi-precious stones from
the Urals and typical Russian souvenirs such as matrioskas and lacquerware.
One stall, however, stood out because it was a stall with nothing but
photographs, most of them in black and white. Whereas most vendors tried to
drag you to their stalls, the owner of this stall sat on a stool puffing away on his
pipe, looking rather content, even though there was no-one even browsing
through his wares.
Dostoyevski's Quarter
click on the photos for an enlargement
A photographer friend
click on the photo for an enlargement
The 'Spice Girls'
click on the photo for an enlargement
