Carlo Rossi, a name synonymous with elegance, graces this pavilion. The Razvaliny pavil’ona “Kholodnye bani”, or Ruins of the Cold Baths Pavilion, as it’s sometimes known, stands before us, a whisper of its former glory. This graceful structure, designed by Rossi in the Neoclassical style in the early 1820s, sits serenely on the banks of the Moyka River, within the lush embrace of the Mikhailovsky Garden. It wasn’t always ruins. It once pulsated with life, laughter, and the clinking of teacups. Imagine ladies in elegant dresses and gentlemen in fine suits, enjoying a leisurely afternoon, taking in the picturesque views of the river. The pavilion was built for pleasure and refreshment, a place for romantic meetings on summer evenings, perhaps over a cup of tea or a game of cards. The pavilion has a unique location. It sits off-center from the Mikhailovsky Palace, yet aligns perfectly with the Field of Mars across the river. Some say Rossi envisioned a second pavilion, creating a symmetrical view to and from the palace. Others believe it was a deliberate choice to visually connect the two grand ensembles. The Razvaliny pavil’ona “Kholodnye bani” replaced a much older structure, the Golden Mansion of Empress Catherine, wife of Peter the Great. This earlier palace, named for its golden spire and gilded interiors, was demolished in 1768 by Catherine the Great. Can you imagine the transformation of this spot, from a gilded palace to a Neoclassical pavilion, and now, to the evocative ruins we see today? Rossi’s pavilion featured two square rooms connected by an open Doric colonnade. Cast-iron fences, designed by Rossi himself and cast at the Aleksandrovsky Iron Foundry, added a touch of delicate strength. One room boasted lemon-colored arabesques and mahogany furniture with blue calico upholstery. The other, with green walls and matching arabesques, mirrored the theme with green chintz and yellow flowers. The restoration of the Mikhailovsky Garden in the early 2000s breathed new life into the area, returning it to Rossi’s original vision. A bust of the architect now resides within the pavilion, a silent testament to his enduring legacy. While the pavilion may now be in ruins, it still speaks volumes about the elegance and grandeur of 19th-century Saint Petersburg. It is a poignant reminder of the city’s rich history, a place where whispers of the past mingle with the gentle murmur of the Moyka River.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to