Potemkin's Palace

From Prince Potemkin to Prince Charles, Petersburg’s Tauride Palace has seen its share of VIPs over the years. This month, 205 years after the death of the palace’s famous namesake, Russian Life’s ANNA HOARE takes a look at the history of the Tauride from its founding to the present day.

St. Petersburg. For those who have been there on a brief summer tour, chances are this city evokes memories of glorious palaces, theaters, canals – and endless people. But, if you walk north from the hustle and bustle of Nevsky Prospect toward the Chernyshevskaya metro station, the crowds soon fall away and the quiet streets of the Smolny region begin. On Shpalernaya Street, best known for the fairy-tale blue domes of Smolny Cathedral, you will find the Tauride Palace, a long yellow building built in the classical style. The Tauride overlooks the City Children’s Park, formerly the palace grounds, now a place for thoughtful chess games and long afternoon picnics. But don’t let the area’s sleepy appearance fool you. The Tauride – or Tavrichesky, as it is known in Russian – has served as the backdrop for some of the most important events of this century – from Lenin’s presentation of his April Theses, to the present-day meetings of the Interparliamentary Assembly of the CIS.

The history of the palace begins much earlier. In the late eighteenth century, Prince Grigory Potemkin, Prince of Taurida (Taurians were  an ancient people that inhabited the Crimea, and, in the late 18th century, an administrative province including the Crimean peninsula and the lower Dnieper was created and named Taurida), built himself a small country house on the site of the present-day Tauride, which at that time was located on the very outskirts of St. Petersburg. Potemkin first gained influence as Catherine the Great’s lover (and secretly married husband), but even when that notoriously fickle lady moved on to other favorites, he continued to wield influence as a statesman. Rumor has it that Potemkin even presided over Catherine’s stable of male lovers – no small task.

Be that as it may, as a general and cavalry commander, Potemkin participated in the capture of the Crimean Peninsula from the Turks and the founding of the Black Sea port of Sevastopol. In 1783, Catherine decided to reward these achievements by building him a palace on the site of his country house, which was located, quite appropriately, near the barracks. The architect Ivan Starov, who also designed the Cathedral of the Trinity in Petersburg’s Alexander Nevsky Monastery, presided over the project, and the result of his labor – six years in the building – is often cited as an example of strict neoclassicism.

The main facade is bare and simple to a fault, with only a six-columned, Doric portico for ornamentation. On either side, two wings jut off perpendicular to the street, forming a courtyard. Inside, conference halls and offices evidence the Tauride’s present role as a parliamentary building. Architectural highlights such as the eight-cornered White Hall and the Cupola Hall remain. Otherwise, years of political activity have changed the Tauride’s original appearance beyond recognition.

Nonetheless, much is known about the Tauride of Potemkin’s day, thanks to an account written by his contemporary, the poet Gavrila Derzhavin. Derzhavin describes a feast held at the palace in 1791 in honor of the Russian victory over the Turks. At that time, the palace had an unobstructed view of the Neva River. (A water tower constructed across the street has since spoiled the effect.) Guests entered the circular Cupola Hall, lit from above by windows and divided from the other rooms by Ionic columns. Japanese china, marble vases and chandeliers made of black crystal decorated the interior. Further on, the spectacular White Hall beckoned, which, according to the poet, could accommodate 5000 people at one time. And, in case uninvited guests showed up, they could always spill out into the Winter Gardens, where an eight-columned rotunda containing a statue of Catherine the Great presided.

In an interesting aside, it seems that the people took matters into their own hands at Tavrichesky long before Comrade Lenin appeared on the scene. At the feast Derzhavin witnessed, Potemkin and the empress were late in arriving. So the cold and hungry guests were forced to await their arrival outside, staring at tables of tempting, but closely guarded, food. One guest mistakenly thought that he had seen the Empress’ carriage and spread the word. At which a group of guests broke through the line of guards and fell on the food – before being beaten back by attentive policemen.

The Tauride’s early history had its ups and down, corresponding to the rise and fall of Potemkin’s fortune. In 1790, the Prince was obliged to sell the Tauride back to the State. However, after Potemkin, along with the famous generals Suvorov and Kutuzov, captured the reputedly impregnable Ismail fortress during the Second Turkish War, Catherine returned the palace to him.

It was during this same war that Potemkin met his end, in 1792, and the Tauride once again reverted to the state. Catherine declared the palace imperial property, and it was officially named Tavrichesky in honor of its late owner. Then followed the first in a series of drastic redecorations. Catherine’s son, Paul I, who was not exactly famous for his quick wits, turned the building over to the regiment of the Horse Guards. The White Hall was converted into a stables, while the Cupola Hall came to house a riding academy. All interior decoration was removed and taken away to furnish other buildings.

In 1802, during the reign of Alexander II, the architect Luigi Rusca was commissioned to restore the palace – no small undertaking, as by that time only the walls of the original building remained.

At the beginning of the 20th century, the Tauride was once again overhauled, this time to be used by the State Duma, Russia’s new parliament, which existed until 1917. From then on, the Tauride has been dedicated to politics in one form or another. The theater was converted into a library, and a meeting hall was set up in the former Winter Garden. During the twentieth century, an impressive number of political events have taken place inside the Tauride’s walls. The first temporary government was formed here, and the Petrograd Soviet of Workers and Soldiers Deputies held its first meeting within its walls. Between the two revolutions in 1917, Lenin presented his April Theses here, arguing that the bourgeois revolution should be transformed into a socialist one and that, contrary to Marx’s philosophy, poor peasants, as well as workers, should be a force in the revolution. The first and last meetings of the Constituent Assembly, dispelled in 1918 by the Bolsheviks, were also held here. And, finally, the Seventh Congress of the Russian Communist Party met in the Tauride to decide the terms of the Brest-Litovsk Peace Treaty, which ended the war between Russia and Germany in 1918.

Until 1990, the Tauride was the headquarters of the Higher Party School. Then, it became a political science institute, and finally the Northwest Center for Civil Service. In 1992, by presidential order, the Tauride passed to the Interparliamentary Assembly of the CIS countries. Yet Russian students had become attached to the palace’s picturesque surroundings, and were not about to give up the building without a fight.

Vitaly Tyurin, a former student at the institute, related how the students rallied, organizing hunger strikes and picketing in the courtyard. They carried signs engraved with the words “Let Us Learn,” and set up tents outside the palace, where teachers loyal to their cause came and administered oral exams. They appealed to the central government and UNESCO and bombarded visiting foreign dignitaries with their tale of woe. One student even faked a concussion after an altercation with the OMON (Russia’s riot police). This “casualty” was taken to the hospital and portrayed on local radio as a hero.

Surely the students deserved “pyatyorka’s” (A grades) for their use of lobbying and political propaganda techniques. In the end, though, all was to no avail. The students were no match for the might of the state, and the Interparliamentary Assembly took up residence in the Tauride in 1992. Since that time, the list of famous visitors has been impressive – foreign politicians and heads of state such as Britain’s Prince Charles and Vice President Al Gore, prominent bankers and Russian politicians like Arkady Volsky, former Petersburg Mayor Anatoly Sobchak, Vice-Premier Valery Serov and Duma representative Shokhin, to name just a few. According to Andrei Mozhorov, head of the Interparliamentary Assembly’s press service, the Assembly works for the political and economic integration of the CIS countries. In addition, it develops model laws, which, in Mozhorov’s words, are “used very actively in the legislation of the CIS states,” and works on the peace process in various hot spots throughout the newly independent states, including Tadzhikistan, Nagorno-Karabakh, Abkhazia and the break-away region of Pri-Dnestroviya in Moldova.

This past June alone, according to Mozhorov, three important events took place at the Tauride. To begin with, the first-ever joint meeting between the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, headed by Lenny Fischer, and the Council of the Interparlimentary Assembly, headed by Yegor Stroev, took place. The meeting resulted in a joint declaration on strengthening links between the two organizations. Second, the Ninth Plenary Assembly was held there for the purpose of working up model laws. As a result, more than 50 laws covering ecology, defense and other spheres of legislation were developed.

And finally, from June 18-21, the Petersburg Economic Forum, in which over 2000 politicians, businessmen, bankers and scholars from 50 countries participated, took place at the Tauride. The forum, which was headed by Stroev, head of the Federation Council (the upper house of Russia’s parliament), discussed uniting the strengths of Russia and the CIS and developing political and economic cooperation. However, according to the popular Russian newspaper, Moskovsky Komsomolets, the forum actually did little more than praise the letter “I” – in the form of investment, innovation and integration – without leading to any concrete decisions. Prime Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin and Vice-Premier Anatoly Chubais, who were originally slated to appear at the Forum, did not make it back from their vacations in time – and were accused of preferring sleep to economic cooperation.

Through its rich and varied history, the Tauride has seen a lot – from princes to Party leaders and back again. But don’t expect to see it – at least not without special permission and documents from the Foreign Ministry... You can gaze at it across the pond from the City Children’s Park to your heart’s content. No fences block off the courtyard from the street. But if you walk up to the palace doors hoping for a glimpse of the interior, you will be turned away by a burly security guard. The message is clear. Important parliamentary business in progress. No exceptions.   RL