Anna Nova Gallery

A small art gallery in St. Petersburg, Anna Nova is well hidden but it's well worth the trek to find this diamond in the desert. Here's how to find it: walk some two blocks from metro-station Mayakovskaja, then walk down a grey path that winds through yellowish backyards, then turn left, and there it is! The way is certainly Peter-pan-ish: "second to the right, straight on 'till morning, that's where I'll be waiting" - with the only one amendment – there won't be Peter Pan himself to welcome you, but Pasha, the gallery-keeper (Barry's famous character doesn't bear any comparison with this real-life personage).

When we first went there, the gallery with its futuristic shopwindows, silver prints and geometrical forms seemed absolutely empty. Pictures, sculptures and video installations crowded on every square foot of its two small halls, there were a lot of new things to explore, but this strange absence of people reminded us of an old tale about a gingerbread house. Silly, of course, but it really scared us.

To chase the childish fears away we started to comment on all the things we saw, quietly, shakily, then a bit louder until we found ourselves laughing and bursting the silence. 'What an interesting opinion you've got', a voice behind my back made my heart nearly stop, 'as unusual as the boots you are wearing'. A jealous stare from behind a pair of creepy old-fashioned circle glasses was sliding up and down my embroidered boots. Balder than Moby, skinny, with teeth like an unfolded fan, Pasha (as he introduced himself a bit later) turned out, paradoxically, to be totally irresistible.

Our talk lasted for 2 long hours. Over and over again Pasha disappeared beyond a small door in the wall of the second hall (the White Rabbit's hole?), leaving us silent and a little confused on brown-leather sofas, and materialized again with handfuls of sketches, reproductions, books and photos. He knew all my university lecturers, he knew all my fellow-artists, he knew all the galleries of the city, and the only thing he seemed not to know were the things inside my head. Maybe that's why he listened so very carefully, so very intently, that it made speaking difficult.

Specifically, controlling my every word so as not to say something rude about Elena Figurina's works (which were being exhibited at that particular time) or the course of ancient Russian painting at my university was extremely hard. Being already used to these colourless daubs of paint all around the place, practically every new exhibition was a kind of surprise.

Among the most impressive was Peter Shvetzov's post-impressionistic portraits of architecture. Surrounded by plastic and glass these explosive splashes of lemon yellow and Mediterranean blue looked like splinters of a dream. As the accompanying artillery ANNA NOVA uses yelping cellos, dashing double-basses and nervously shuddering conductors (when the famed concerts of new classical music are held there).

So, if you ever find yourself in St. Petersburg, don't forget this simple route: some 2 blocks from metro-station Mayakovskaja, a grey path through yellow yards, and then to the left.

P.S.: For the materialists and cynics among us, here's the exact address – Zhukovskogo str., 28, St. Petersburg
www.annanova-gallery.ru