Hermitage Museum In Saint Petersburg

As the Hermitage came into my eyesight, I felt a distinct emotional flush and great sense of wonder approaching this monumental museum that was one of my primary reasons of coming to  Saint Petersburg. The exterior is painted in a lovely soft mint green framed with white mouldings that gives it an overall feminine allure, but belies the ornate extravagance inside.

The glories that awaited me and that had driven my dreams now for several years was finally within reach.    Images from Tolstoy fueled and played with my own imagination of what it might have looked like during the times of the Tsars.

Fortunately there was not a long line after I finally found the entrance, having been forewarned that it could take over an hour just to buy a ticket.     Once in, my first impression was that the museum guards had much sterner faces than at the Louvre, and refused to allow anyone with  jackets, motioning for us to go the cloak room to have them checked in.

Just pass the guards, the onslaught of beauty began with towering white sculptures before I climbed up the first vast grand marble staircase.  Frankly I just was not prepared.  A splendiferous world of gold leaf and glitter, softly lit by immense chandeliers  engulfed me in the richest of visual splendor.

I was quickly reminded that the present day Hermitage was the actual Winter Palace of the Tsars from 1732 to 1917.    It is hard to imagine that such sumptuous surroundings were the everyday living quarters of these very privileged people.

The place is absolutely huge, with the peripheries said to be more than a mile!  Additionally grandiose and hard to fathom is the fact that there are 1,786 doors, 1,945 windows, 1,500 rooms, and 117 staircases!

The collections, most of them comprising Catherine the Great’s own personal collection has  3 million items and holds the world’s largest collections of paintings.  Catherine, who had an insatiable appetite for art in all forms, including her troop of young lovers, instructed  her embassies throughout Europe to buy up art works any time they could.

Obviously I was not going to be able to sail through all of this magnificent layout.  My approach with any museum is to limit my time to not more than 3 hours, which is more than enough to border on having art overload. After that one becomes rather slightly anesthetized to taking in any more beauty.

Sadly, that means sacrificing seeing it all, as the hoards of Asian tourists who jousted about with great speed and determination made navigating the great halls of the Hermitage rather tenuous.

For me the energy of the Hermitage was lighthearted and somewhat playful.  With the abundant sunlight streaming in the myriad of windows, most of the rooms were well-lit, conveying a sense of warmth and gaiety.

There were several architects who contributed to designing what constitutes as the present day collage of buildings know as the Hermitage.  .  An Italian expat by the name of Rastrelli had the most influence, creating the style called Elizabethan Baroque.

Though it was the Peter the Great who built the original winter Palace building, it was Catherine the Great, who finished expanding the present buildings and decorating them to   opulent extravagance.

Catherine was born a German princess, who actually married into the Romanov family, and became queen after her husband Peter III, was assassinated. Besides her immense lust for lovers, she also lusted after getting her hands on as many works of art as she could.

She was a Francophil, who insisted that the Russian courts speak in French and imported French culture into Russia.  It is easy to see the implicit resemblance to Versailles in the interior embellishment of gold leaf and rococo mouldings

The setting along the Neva river,  is majestic.  The northern facade faces the river with vast sweeping views of the water, that freezes solid enough to walk on in the winter.  Looking out, I could almost imagine the Tsars sleigh making the shushing sound as it whisked by leaving trails in the freshly fallen white snow.

Most of the rooms are decorated with soft creamy pastels set against intricate carved mouldings and the ever-present gold leaf that framed everything.  Ornate golden mirrors throughout  offered plenty of opportunities to reflect the beautiful images of the multiple princesses and queens who surely glanced from time to time to reassure themselves of their bejeweled allure.

The most poignant section was a collection of portraits of all the Romanovs.  I found the majority , both male and female to be physically handsome.  Their presence was haunting, after all this was their home that I was visiting!

I could no longer hear their whispers, nor laughter ,nor the soft rustling of  ladies ball gowns, such as those Elizabeth of Russia wore,   who had over 15,000 dresses, that she refused to wear twice!  Nevertheless,  I could recreate and really enjoyed the symphony of creaking sounds made as I too, walked these ornate halls.  My steps mimicking their own, over the beautiful parquet floors, that must have enchanted them too.

I am quite aware that my photographs do little justice to all the surroundings, and some of the paintings and sculptures I managed to catch in my lens.  The vast rooms were too filled with fellow tourists to capture their expansiveness.

Whenever I visit a museum, I like to allow myself to be drawn to the paintings and sculptures that capture my heart and eye, rather than be led by a guide.  That way I can feel more of the painters expressive soul emanating through the canvases or the sculptures.

The photographs of the paintings and sculptures seen, are the ones that resonated within me.  Having an art historian to ask questions could certainly enlighten me, but the first pass through is for “feelings” and for that I do not want any interference.

The collection of Rubens is wonderfully rich, and the Madonna of Leonardo Da Vinci is beautiful.  Andreas Salai’s nude has the same smile as the  Mona Lisa.  I also loved the sensuous sculptures of Canova!

Feeling overwhelmed and more than satiated by the sensational clouds of beauty that one feels continuously drifting in, it was time to go.   Certainly, I will return to capture another moment here.

The day was warm and bright and afterwards, I chose to sit outside in the sunshine in the adjacent park to allow all that I had seen and felt to play out, like dancing shadows in my psyche.  The pigeons scratched around in the dirt and looked at me with inquisitive eyes.  I am sure that they too would have many tales to tell if only they could, having descended through the ages amongst such royal beauty.