Damon Murray Bücher

Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev described the Metro as something supernatural, reflecting its unique role in the Soviet Union's cultural landscape. Unlike the straightforward systems of London, Paris, or New York, these Metro networks, built between the 1930s and 1980s, served as propaganda artworks, merging sculpture, architecture, and art with styles from Byzantine to constructivist. They embodied the vision of communism as a 'communal luxury' for all, representing a tangible realization of a Soviet utopia. Canadian photographer Christopher Herwig, following his acclaimed exploration of 'Soviet Bus Stops', undertook a subterranean journey to photograph the Metro stations across the former USSR. His work captures the striking contrast between opulent marble and chandeliers and stark, minimalist designs. 'Soviet Metro Stations' showcases the diverse architectural styles and elements that define this unique Soviet experience, including neon, concrete, escalators, signage, mosaics, and relief sculptures. The book also features an essay by prominent architectural and political writer Owen Hatherley, known for his insightful works on post-Soviet landscapes.

Visiting a Soviet sanatorium is like stepping back in time. Originally built in the 1920s, they afforded workers a place to holiday, courtesy of a state-funded voucher system. At their peak they were visited by millions of citizens across the USSR every year. A combination of medical institution and spa, the era's sanatoriums are among the most innovative buildings of their time. Although aesthetically diverse, Soviet utopian values permeated every aspect of these structures; Western holidays were perceived as decadent. By contrast, sanatorium breaks were intended to edify and strengthen visitors: health professionals carefully monitored guests throughout their stay, so they could return to work with renewed vigor. Certain sanatoriums became known for their specialist treatments, such as crude-oil baths, radon water douches and stints in underground salt caves. While today some sanatoriums are in critical states of decline, many are still fully operational and continue to offer their Soviet-era treatments to visitors. Using specially commissioned photographs by leading photographers of the post-Soviet territories, and texts by sanatorium expert Maryam Omidi, this book documents over 45 sanatoriums and their unconventional treatments. From Armenia to Uzbekistan, it represents the most comprehensive survey to date of this fascinating and previously overlooked Soviet institution

"Featuring 60 recipes, each introduced with an insightful historical anecdote and accompanying image sourced from original Soviet cook books"--Page 4 of cover

Notre-Dame of Amiens is one of the great Gothic cathedrals. In this beautifully illustrated magisterial chronicle, Stephen Murray tells the cathedral's story from the overlapping perspectives of the social groups connected to it.

The Soviet dream of modernist architecture for all, portrayed on the brink of its erasure In recent years Russian cities have visibly changed. The architectural heritage of the Soviet period has not been fully acknowledged. As a result many unique modernist buildings have been destroyed or changed beyond recognition. Russian photographer Arseniy Kotov intends to document these buildings and their surroundings before they are lost forever. He likes to take pictures in winter, during the "blue hour," which occurs immediately after sunset or just before sunrise. At this time, the warm yellow colors inside apartment-block windows contrast with the twilight gloom outside. To Kotov, this atmosphere reflects the Soviet period of his imagination. His impression of this time is unashamedly idealistic: he envisages a great civilization, built on a fair society, which hopes to explore nature and conquer space. From the Baikonur Cosmodrome in the desert steppes of Kazakhstan to the grim monolithic high-rise dormitory blocks of inner-city Volgograd, Kotov captures the essence of the post-Soviet world. "The USSR no longer exists and in these photographs we can see what remains--the most outstanding buildings and constructions, where Soviet people lived and how Soviet cities once looked: no decoration, no bright colors and no luxury, only bare concrete and powerful forms." This superbly designed volume is the latest in Fuel's revelatory and inspiring series on Soviet-era architecture.

Brutal concrete hotels, futurist TV towers, heroic statues of workers--this collection of Soviet-era postcards documents the uncompromising landscape of the Eastern Bloc through its buildings and monuments. These are interspersed with quotes from prominent figures of the time, which both support and confound the ideologies presented in the images.0In contrast to the photographs of a ruined and abandoned Soviet empire we are accustomed to seeing today, the scenes depicted here publicize the bright future of communism: social housing blocks, palaces of culture and monuments to comradeship. Dating from the 1960s to the 1980s, they offer a nostalgic yet revealing insight into social and architectural values of the time, acting as a window through which we can examine cars, people and, of course, buildings. These postcards, sanctioned by the authorities, were intended to show the world what living in communism looked like.0Instead, this postcard propaganda inadvertently communicates other messages: outside the House of Political Enlightenment in Yerevan, the flowerbed reads "Glory to the Communist Party of the Soviet Union"; in Novopolotsk, art-school pupils paint plein air, their subject a housing estate; at the Irkutsk Polytechnic Institute students stroll past a 16-foot-tall concrete hammer and sickle. These postcards are at once sinister, funny, poignant and surreal.

In Soviet Seasons, Arseniy Kotov reveals unfamiliar aspects of the post-Soviet terrain in sublime photographs. From snow-blanketed Siberia in winter to the mountains of the Caucasus in summer, these images show how a once powerful, utopian landscape has been affected by the weight of nature itself.