About a month ago my students were giving presentations of their own research. They chose excellent topics: Russian holidays, and the foods that accompany them; French influences on Russian cuisine (and vice versa); traditions of tea drinking; feasting and fasting; the Leningrad blockade.
The visuals were terrific as well. From the serious (images of the bread rations during the siege of Leningrad) to the informative (a diagram of the different parts of a samovar) to the gorgeous (Kustodiev's tea drinking merchant's wife -- everyone's favorite "edible" feast).
I am not the first to comment on the merchant's wife's shoulders or to notice that they are as appetizing as the ripe red watermelon or the puffy white clouds in that blue blue sky. (Why, I wonder, is this his most famous painting? Is it the accoutrements à la Russe such as the brass samovar? or the obviously satisfied wife, who has everything she could want and more? or maybe the equally self-satisfied cat, with his expressive tail? or finally the Russian Orthodox churches in the background, which by 1918 evoked a world that was rapidly on its way to destruction?)
Today my students began the second round of presentations, again really great topics:
Three more presentations on Thursday, and then research papers to follow. I think the research has been the most fun (and most successful) part of the course for the students ... well that, and the cooking day we had at the end of January.
When they have control of their own work, they know its scope, and they really stretch themselves.
My own ambition for them has been overwhelming, I fear. They have read parts of Oblomov and Anna Karenina, of Eugene Onegin and Envy. They tried (not always successfully) to fathom Chekhov's humor -- from his history of bliny to the speech on the dangers of tobacco. They seemed to really like Alexander Genis and Petr Vail, who mixed history with nostalgia with recipes. With the Domostroi they were mostly frustrated -- but next time I'll know that even with a translation into contemporary Russian, I can expect a smoother reading experience when I provide a glossary.
In lectures, I have taught them how to talk about food poisoning, and what kinds of mushrooms one finds in the woods in Russia. I explained Alexandra Kollontai's theory of free love (the "drink of water theory") and Lenin's reaction to it.
But where they have really learned, I think, is in directing their own learning. My way is too much -- when I've told them the word for poison, and thirty-five other words during that class period, I expect them to remember it. But khlebosol'stvo (hospitality, literally bread-and-salt-ness) they will remember, since they came to it on their own, through their own research.
I am thinking about how I came to understand the concept of Russian khlebosol'stvo. One year I was invited to a Pushkin conference in Russia and we took a side trip to Boldino, one of Pushkin's former estates, where he wrote a number of masterpieces. We took a bus from Nizhny Novgorod (a memorable bus ride indeed, 4 hours bumping along traditional Russian roads). When we arrived in Boldino, we were greeted by women dressed in traditional costumes offering us bread-and-salt. I'm going to have to look through my drawers to see if I can find a photo of that traditional greeting; I found a very similar photo on the Pushkin Museum Boldino website featuring other traveling scholars, another Pushkin conference.
I am hoping to partake of Russian hospitality again in the future. But in the meantime, I need to plan my own end-of-semester feast to reward my students for their hard work and good cheer. I have treated them to half-sour pickles with rossiiskii cheese on Borodinsky bread, but I didn't manage a pancake day during Maslenitsa. Hoping to pull that off next week.
 |
| Boris Kustodiev, "Merchant's Wife," 1918 |
I am not the first to comment on the merchant's wife's shoulders or to notice that they are as appetizing as the ripe red watermelon or the puffy white clouds in that blue blue sky. (Why, I wonder, is this his most famous painting? Is it the accoutrements à la Russe such as the brass samovar? or the obviously satisfied wife, who has everything she could want and more? or maybe the equally self-satisfied cat, with his expressive tail? or finally the Russian Orthodox churches in the background, which by 1918 evoked a world that was rapidly on its way to destruction?)
Today my students began the second round of presentations, again really great topics:
- the history and symbolism of bread for the Russian people, its economic meaning and political manipulation, especially in Soviet times (I am learning things I should have known all along, like the legend behind the name of Borodinsky bread!);
- fast food in Russia (incredibly timely, since the presentation started with the arrival of McDonald's in Russia in 1990, continued with Russian-style fast food restaurants, one of which -- Teremok -- is planning to open in NYC soon, and finished with angry nationalist statements (and tweets!) about how McDonald's has been poisoning Russia and about the very recent withdrawal of that chain from Crimea);
- the Holodomor, or Stalin's forced famine in Ukraine in the wake of collectivization. One student had read most of Robert Conquest's Harvest of Sorrow and was still reeling from the facts he learned, while another waded through the Ukrainian newspaper article that in 1988 broke the story of the famine and was the first to use the term "Holodomor." She ended up teaching us all a little Ukrainian -- again timely, since as Russian-speaking Americans we have all been trying to learn some Ukrainian to get better access to current events.
Three more presentations on Thursday, and then research papers to follow. I think the research has been the most fun (and most successful) part of the course for the students ... well that, and the cooking day we had at the end of January.
When they have control of their own work, they know its scope, and they really stretch themselves.
 |
| The Domostroi -- the famous 16th c. household manual |
In lectures, I have taught them how to talk about food poisoning, and what kinds of mushrooms one finds in the woods in Russia. I explained Alexandra Kollontai's theory of free love (the "drink of water theory") and Lenin's reaction to it.
But where they have really learned, I think, is in directing their own learning. My way is too much -- when I've told them the word for poison, and thirty-five other words during that class period, I expect them to remember it. But khlebosol'stvo (hospitality, literally bread-and-salt-ness) they will remember, since they came to it on their own, through their own research.
 |
| Boldino traditional greeting |
I am hoping to partake of Russian hospitality again in the future. But in the meantime, I need to plan my own end-of-semester feast to reward my students for their hard work and good cheer. I have treated them to half-sour pickles with rossiiskii cheese on Borodinsky bread, but I didn't manage a pancake day during Maslenitsa. Hoping to pull that off next week.
Comments
Post a Comment