THE CATHEDRAL of Christ the Savior has once more become a dominant, active
presence in Moscow, as is evident not only from its enormous physical shape, but
also from the media attention given to the celebration of Orthodox Christmas.
Indeed, this massive structure has been the object of debate and controversy
since its inception at the beginning of this decade.
On the one hand, the church hierarchy, most notably in the person of Patriarch
Alexy II, has defended the rebuilding of Christ the Savior as an act of
atonement, a sign of the regeneration of the Russian Orthodox Church and as a
celebration of the coming 2,000th anniversary of the birth of Christ.
On the other hand, critics have pointed to the enormous cost of the project,
money that might have been better spent on parish work or on historical
religious monuments in great need of restoration. Further criticisms have
included charges that the project is too closely connected with the political
ambitions of the mayor of Moscow, Yury Luzhkov.
As one familiar with the work of preservationists in Moscow, I can sympathize
with their dismay over the lack of funding for many cultural needs and
activities, including the restoration of architectural monuments. This lack is
particularly galling when one considers the enormous sums spent on the new
cathedral. Indeed, one preservation expert has calculated that the total amount
allotted in the Russian federal budget for all restoration of historic
architecture throughout Russia in 1995 amounted to the cost of three days work
at the cathedral. And in 1996, the allotment was even less.
In practical terms, Orthodox parishes in Moscow that are beginning to reclaim
historic church buildings after decades of neglect and vandalism must undertake
repairs in a piecemeal fashion and with very limited support from either the
state or the church itself.
I have seen many such examples, but one of the most distressing is the late
18th-century Church of the Ascension on Gorokhovoye Field (in the Bauman area of
northwest Moscow), an excellent work of neoclassical church design by the great
Moscow architect Matvei Kazakov. Has the construction of the Cathedral of Christ
the Savior condemned such churches, and other historical structures, to a
dangerous state of under-funded disrepair? Many preservationists would so argue.
However, this argument is not without problems of its own. It should be obvious
to any observer that rebuilding the cathedral was not intended as an exercise in
historic restoration. And those individuals and companies whose contributions
paid for the project are not dedicated preservationists. Rather, one must assume
that they donated to the project precisely because of its unprecedented size and
its importance in the new order of things.
Indeed, the cathedral took shape because Patriarch Alexy and the Russian
Orthodox hierarchy were convinced of the need for a large structure that would
serve as a center for the propagation of the faith. The patriarch has said that
the cathedral is an appropriate offering to celebrate the second millennial
anniversary of the birth of Christ, but behind that statement is the assumption
that the outreach and mission of the church in the next millennium will require
a "national" cathedral equipped with modern technology to broadcast the message
of faith in an age of mass media. Therefore, the design of the building - and
particularly its interior- has contemporary features that make it very different
from its predecessor on this site. If the purpose of the project is directed
toward the future, why not build a completely modern structure on a new site?
It is here that the symbolic role of history enters. As documented in Yevgenia
Kirichenko's book on the cathedral, the original structure was built in the 19th
century as a national shrine commemorating Russian sacrifice in the war against
Napoleon. The razing of the church by the Stalin regime in 1931 occurred
ostensibly to clear the ground for a gargantuan Palace of the Soviets, but the
destruction also served as an act of psychological terror, symbolizing the
ruthless suppression of religion. The rebuilding of the church is just as
clearly intended as a triumphant resurrection over the forces that destroyed it.
By virtue of its site and dimensions, the cathedral expresses that triumph in a
way that no other building could.
Critics have objected to this megalomania, which they link to the spirit of the
displaced Soviet era. Some have questioned the sincerity of the repentance that
the project is supposed to represent, when it seems so closely allied to the
political and financial interests of the church, the city and the state.
Furthermore, there are troublesome technical issues linked to the speed with
which the structure is being built. Yet, when all of the criticisms are taken
into account, the fact remains that the cathedral not only fulfills a major -
and logical - priority of the patriarchate, but it also occupies the site of a
shrine that had achieved a dominant presence in central Moscow during the 19th
century.
One hopes that the rebuilt Cathedral of Christ the Savior will prove adequate to
the many demands that will surely be placed upon it. And now, the Russian
Orthodox Church and civil society must turn with renewed vigor to the
restoration of neglected landmark churches from Moscow's distant past.
William Brumfield, professor of Russian at Tulane University in New Orleans, is
the author and photographer of several books on Russian architecture.