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Moscow in the sixties… The first winter after the Thaw,
the real one, with this Youth Festival that started opening
the doors. A foreigner is no longer inherently suspect, no
longer an enemy by nature, you can talk to him in the street,
discuss Art -within certain limits at least- in the Tretiakov
Gallery, bring him to the hot water bath that symbolically
illustrates the schizophrenic history we’re living through:
two elements, two seasons, two worlds. The bundled-up
old men of the former Stalinism look out at the bathing girls
of the future perestroika, where in former times rose the
Saviour’s Cathedral…