Things desolated and forlorn often cast gloom. Yet my heart just sinks when it comes to wooden houses. How could it happen? For tens of years people were living here, walking, sleeping and taking meals, going to work, having kids who, first in their prams and later on their feet were making rounds about that house.
Then some unimaginable force caused them all to leave this native, feel-at-home place…
It was about six years ago when, in Kazan, I had photographed this art nouveau wooden house. Has it survived? I’m afraid not: it stood in the very center of the city…
Эта запись также доступна на: Russian
