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Along the river Volga by Christine de Grancy
A single word is enough to bring even the most hardhearted Russian to tears: that word is Volga, and the “Mother Volga” of Russian folklore brings everyone to their knees. More than a river, it is a legend. The Volga is Russia, homeland, fate – and the Russian soul. And as everyone knows, that soul is as deep as the Volga’s waters and sometimes equally impenetrable. Mother Volga unites all her children; the good and the bad, the straight-laced daughters of Yaroslavl, who gaze into eternity from their reopened convents; the Tatar women of Kazan, who know that beauty is a gift that should be packaged as ornately as a birthday cake. Lean back in your chair and put your Gogol away: the stories they tell about the Volga and that are reflected here and now in the waves can be taken with the proverbial pinch of salt. Apparently immune from the changes of a tumultuous time – almost like actors in the slow splashing of an aquatic opera – these inexhaustible characters appear on the banks of the river, and all of them are authentic Volga children. That is evident in the atmosphere that Christine de Grancy has captured in her pictures. The river’s waves are always part of the picture, and despite their apparent gentleness there is always a touch of something unpredictable and potentially violent. Because beneath the surface of these pictures there is always a glimpse of surprising change, a harsh word, a deep emotion.
