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Soviet Bus Stops #2
Soviet Bus Stops: Volume II
On the heels of his bestselling Soviet Bus Stops, photographer Christopher Herwig locates fresh wonders of the Soviet vernacular in Georgia, Ukraine and Russia itself
After the popular and critical success of his first book, Soviet Bus Stops, photographer Christopher Herwig has returned to the former Soviet Union to hunt for more. In this second volume, as well as discovering new stops in the remotest areas of Georgia and Ukraine, Herwig turns his camera to Russia itself. Following exhaustive research, he drove more than 9,000 miles from coast to coast across the largest country in the world, in pursuit of new examples of this singular architectural form.
A foreword by renowned architecture and culture critic Owen Hatherley reveals new information on the origins of the Soviet bus stop. Examining the government policy that allowed these small architectural forms to flourish, he explains how they reflected Soviet values, and how ultimately they remained--despite their incredible individuality--far-flung outposts of Soviet ideology.
The diversity of architectural approaches is staggering: juxtaposed alongside a slew of audacious modern and brutal designs, there are bus stops shaped as trains, birds, light bulbs, rockets, castles, even a bus stop incorporating a statue of St. George slaying the dragon. An essential companion to the first volume, this book provides a valuable document of these important and unique constructions.
After the popular and critical success of his first book, Soviet Bus Stops, photographer Christopher Herwig has returned to the former Soviet Union to hunt for more. In this second volume, as well as discovering new stops in the remotest areas of Georgia and Ukraine, Herwig turns his camera to Russia itself. Following exhaustive research, he drove more than 9,000 miles from coast to coast across the largest country in the world, in pursuit of new examples of this singular architectural form.
A foreword by renowned architecture and culture critic Owen Hatherley reveals new information on the origins of the Soviet bus stop. Examining the government policy that allowed these small architectural forms to flourish, he explains how they reflected Soviet values, and how ultimately they remained--despite their incredible individuality--far-flung outposts of Soviet ideology.
The diversity of architectural approaches is staggering: juxtaposed alongside a slew of audacious modern and brutal designs, there are bus stops shaped as trains, birds, light bulbs, rockets, castles, even a bus stop incorporating a statue of St. George slaying the dragon. An essential companion to the first volume, this book provides a valuable document of these important and unique constructions.
192 pages, Hardcover
First published September 26, 2017
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
September 21, 2018
Far flung architectural oddities.
September 14, 2018
After Christopher Herwig finished his first volume of Soviet Bus Stops, he realized that he did not include any bus stops from Russia, Ukraine or Georgia. Or rather he did this intentionally (he wanted to focus on the spirit of countrymen who lived as the underdogs to the Empire) but realized it was a mistake. Due to the overwhelming response from Russians and other former Soviet countries he understood that he had done a disservice so this second volume contains bus stops across Russia, Ukraine, Crimea and Georgia.
The first few pages are essays about architecture during the time of Communism, but the meat of the book is almost 200 pages of color photos of different bus stops. Who knew that bus stops could be such interesting designs? They are. Sadly many of these small wonders are being destroyed by the powers that be because they were made by "inferior" architects. So Herwigs books are perhaps the only way we are going to see many of these little, but fascinating structures.
The first few pages are essays about architecture during the time of Communism, but the meat of the book is almost 200 pages of color photos of different bus stops. Who knew that bus stops could be such interesting designs? They are. Sadly many of these small wonders are being destroyed by the powers that be because they were made by "inferior" architects. So Herwigs books are perhaps the only way we are going to see many of these little, but fascinating structures.
August 26, 2019
This volume of rather haunting photos of mostly dilapidated or decaying yet wildly imaginative Soviet bus stop shelters, is a continuation of Vol. 1 - and worth the investment of time to read the volume, which includes an excellent introductory essay by Owen Hatherley and Postscript by the author/photographer Christopher Herwig.
As in the first volume, the reader will be struck by the variety and wild exuberance of the structures. What occurred to me was that these structures were (as also noted in the introductory essay) "ads" or "demos" of the Soviet regime across the gigantic Soviet landscape, in that they were supposed to embody the "good" that the populace derived from the communist economic system. The people get these structures as part of the bus service - but the shelters themselves are supposed to somehow point to optimism, progress, and the state doing something for the people, the people getting something back for their efforts. It is alien to our system - which, even if the state provides bus stop shelters, many times there are ads. There are always ads and commercialization everywhere throughout mass transit, and stations. Under communism, the structures themselves were the "ads" - not for a commercial entity, rather for the state or the country. As the author says in the postscript these are small sculptures - rather than mere utilitarian bus stop shelters - and creativity & exuberance were exactly what was supposed to be communicated to the bus riders or passersby. That was the message - the structures were the message. The bus stop structures were individualistic and endlessly experimental - they belie the impression of cookie-cutter drabness and conformity of Soviet housing and factories. It seems this was possible because they were supposed to reference their specific localities, make use of local materials and even invite local craftsmen and artists to participate in the decor of the shelters (such as mosaics or murals). They are so wildly individualistic that it's hard to believe they were created under totalitarianism. I recommend both volumes - they give an interesting look into what made the Soviet Union tick.
The fact that so many are now run-down (although a few are kept up) seems to highlight the centrifugal disintegration of the USSR - with mostly decay (you can see horrible road conditions in many of the photos) in the remote or outlying areas, while the two main cities (Moscow and St. Petersburg) prosper. Money is not being poured into improving the infrastructure of the countryside - instead many times it's siphoned off into offshore bank accounts or investments in overseas properties. Taxes are not being collected as they should be and so the localities probably don't have the money to keep up the roads etc., much less the shelters. Although there was corruption under communism, it has worsened since the fall of the USSR.
Anyway, here are some quotes from the introductory essay:
"Rural areas always bore the brunt of the USSR's violent dragging of the Tsarist Empire into the 20th century, from the collectivization of agriculture and the famine it caused to the depopulation and decline of later years. These are still the poorest areas of post-Soviet Russia, their economies destroyed by the end of public subsidies and the command economy. In this context, the bus stops stand as forlorn monuments to an age when the people in high places still gave such areas some thought."
"...strange and individualistic works of art sited in green landscapes..."
"But [Belorussian architect and bus stop specialist Armen] Sardarov intended to go further, 'not only to analyze the system we see from the road, but to offer an idea that a road itself, a road can be some complete architectonic creation, a work of art.'"
"...Sardarov - this road was to be a concerted ensemble, linking landscape, architecture and engineering..."
"At the same time, [according to St. Petersburg architect Olga Ushakova, bus stop shelters] ....'were certainly bearing a propaganda component' that reflected the 'ideological component' of committing expenditure to public transport in rural areas far from the glories of the urban Metro stations: 'public transportation as a very important component in the life of the Soviet society'."
"So these were outposts of ideology in the most obscure places, inculcating Soviet values - the importance of equality and public provision, the 'national tradition' of a particular part of this alleged brotherhood of nations, and the sweeping up of even the most far-flung places into a concerted national story."
"...you are looking at a product of the Soviet system, with its combination of command economics, public provision and a paradoxical bureaucratic chaos, where apparent conformity and regularity were bent and twisted at the edges."
Interestingly, the shelters in the Crimea seem better kept up than elsewhere - beautifully designed and kept up. Some are very beautiful and elegant even.
But, overall, there doesn't seem to be an effort to preserve them from the perspective of historic preservation efforts - which might include land marking, fund-raising for restoration, etc. - so that it could become a community project in the absence of state upkeep. It's possible though that for some, if they symbolize the former communist system, and they disliked it, or wanted it to go away, they might be loathe to preserve these shelters. Who knows?
The residents that appear in some of the photos seem about as well-fed and well-dressed as the average American - similar clothing, shoes, accessories. I'm surprised they don't appreciate these unique structures and try to do something to adopt or preserve them. The structures are often vandalized, though some have received a perfunctory coat of paint, but a great many are crumbling. The ones in Georgia seem to be in particularly bad shape.
The reader of this book can take a virtual journey circa 2016 along obscure roads throughout the former Soviet Union which is interesting in and of itself.
As in the first volume, the reader will be struck by the variety and wild exuberance of the structures. What occurred to me was that these structures were (as also noted in the introductory essay) "ads" or "demos" of the Soviet regime across the gigantic Soviet landscape, in that they were supposed to embody the "good" that the populace derived from the communist economic system. The people get these structures as part of the bus service - but the shelters themselves are supposed to somehow point to optimism, progress, and the state doing something for the people, the people getting something back for their efforts. It is alien to our system - which, even if the state provides bus stop shelters, many times there are ads. There are always ads and commercialization everywhere throughout mass transit, and stations. Under communism, the structures themselves were the "ads" - not for a commercial entity, rather for the state or the country. As the author says in the postscript these are small sculptures - rather than mere utilitarian bus stop shelters - and creativity & exuberance were exactly what was supposed to be communicated to the bus riders or passersby. That was the message - the structures were the message. The bus stop structures were individualistic and endlessly experimental - they belie the impression of cookie-cutter drabness and conformity of Soviet housing and factories. It seems this was possible because they were supposed to reference their specific localities, make use of local materials and even invite local craftsmen and artists to participate in the decor of the shelters (such as mosaics or murals). They are so wildly individualistic that it's hard to believe they were created under totalitarianism. I recommend both volumes - they give an interesting look into what made the Soviet Union tick.
The fact that so many are now run-down (although a few are kept up) seems to highlight the centrifugal disintegration of the USSR - with mostly decay (you can see horrible road conditions in many of the photos) in the remote or outlying areas, while the two main cities (Moscow and St. Petersburg) prosper. Money is not being poured into improving the infrastructure of the countryside - instead many times it's siphoned off into offshore bank accounts or investments in overseas properties. Taxes are not being collected as they should be and so the localities probably don't have the money to keep up the roads etc., much less the shelters. Although there was corruption under communism, it has worsened since the fall of the USSR.
Anyway, here are some quotes from the introductory essay:
"Rural areas always bore the brunt of the USSR's violent dragging of the Tsarist Empire into the 20th century, from the collectivization of agriculture and the famine it caused to the depopulation and decline of later years. These are still the poorest areas of post-Soviet Russia, their economies destroyed by the end of public subsidies and the command economy. In this context, the bus stops stand as forlorn monuments to an age when the people in high places still gave such areas some thought."
"...strange and individualistic works of art sited in green landscapes..."
"But [Belorussian architect and bus stop specialist Armen] Sardarov intended to go further, 'not only to analyze the system we see from the road, but to offer an idea that a road itself, a road can be some complete architectonic creation, a work of art.'"
"...Sardarov - this road was to be a concerted ensemble, linking landscape, architecture and engineering..."
"At the same time, [according to St. Petersburg architect Olga Ushakova, bus stop shelters] ....'were certainly bearing a propaganda component' that reflected the 'ideological component' of committing expenditure to public transport in rural areas far from the glories of the urban Metro stations: 'public transportation as a very important component in the life of the Soviet society'."
"So these were outposts of ideology in the most obscure places, inculcating Soviet values - the importance of equality and public provision, the 'national tradition' of a particular part of this alleged brotherhood of nations, and the sweeping up of even the most far-flung places into a concerted national story."
"...you are looking at a product of the Soviet system, with its combination of command economics, public provision and a paradoxical bureaucratic chaos, where apparent conformity and regularity were bent and twisted at the edges."
Interestingly, the shelters in the Crimea seem better kept up than elsewhere - beautifully designed and kept up. Some are very beautiful and elegant even.
But, overall, there doesn't seem to be an effort to preserve them from the perspective of historic preservation efforts - which might include land marking, fund-raising for restoration, etc. - so that it could become a community project in the absence of state upkeep. It's possible though that for some, if they symbolize the former communist system, and they disliked it, or wanted it to go away, they might be loathe to preserve these shelters. Who knows?
The residents that appear in some of the photos seem about as well-fed and well-dressed as the average American - similar clothing, shoes, accessories. I'm surprised they don't appreciate these unique structures and try to do something to adopt or preserve them. The structures are often vandalized, though some have received a perfunctory coat of paint, but a great many are crumbling. The ones in Georgia seem to be in particularly bad shape.
The reader of this book can take a virtual journey circa 2016 along obscure roads throughout the former Soviet Union which is interesting in and of itself.
April 24, 2020
This was the last gift from a friend who I no longer talk to. It was sort of a bittersweet book to read for that reason, as well as the memories it triggered of the months I spent taking the Ulaanbaatar bus while living in Mongolia. Herwig mostly focuses on flat photographs of bus stop architecture in Russia, Ukraine, and an inch of Georgia, and the collection here makes for a nice coffee table artbook. I wish I learned more about bus stops throughout the book, maybe through deeper descriptions about art styles, architect, and symbolism in each bus stop. This is a cute, cold, beautiful little book.
September 4, 2023
There’s a weary, quirky handsomeness to these structures, and Herwig’s beautifully framed photos hint at their former lives as portals to elsewhere. Soulful and beguiling.
May 2, 2018
This book is very similar in concept to the first volume, so I'll refer you to my comments on that - they all apply here, although unlike the first book, there are actually a few photos of buses in it. :)
Strangely fascinating and beautiful, a classic example of the mundane being showcased in a creative and sympathetic way. Loved it.
Strangely fascinating and beautiful, a classic example of the mundane being showcased in a creative and sympathetic way. Loved it.
December 19, 2017
Well yes, creativity can be found in the most unusual places, as Christopher Herwig amply demonstrates with a second volume of these prosaic masterpieces. If anything, this batch is even cooler than the first. Oh, and of course they are under appreciated and disappearing as you read this.
April 13, 2021
This is a beautiful book that has Soviet bus stops from Russia, Ukraine, Crimea, and Georgia. The introduction explains that in Volume I the author had specifically focused on the non-Russian SSRs as art in the periphery, but then chose to focus more on the heartland in this volume when they realized that so many of the Russian bus stops were disappearing. I love how spaced out the settlements are - the author just includes a photo or two from each municipality before moving on. The shots are beautiful, the introduction is brief yet informative, and this is a charming book.
March 26, 2020
Can't wait for volume 3 personally. Photography is brilliant and there's an interesting counter-argument in the essay at the beginning that states that the weird and wonderful designs were an outflowing of soviet ideology rather than a reaction against it which iirc is pretty much exactly the opposite of the one in book 1 (I may be misremembering). Anyway, thought provoking and aesthetically beautiful stuff.
September 15, 2018
The introduction of this volume is way more deep than the previous. Both are very good and complementary.
December 15, 2018
This time both Russia and snow make an appearance (I mean, finally!). Just a really fun, beautiful collection.
August 26, 2020
Fantastic little ode to a wonderful set of architectural oddities, with more meticulous construction and interesting history than at first meets the eye.
September 9, 2021
Great stuff.
February 20, 2022
I would have loved to travel across Russia to get these images. What a cool idea!
June 13, 2022
I think these were even better than the first volume
October 26, 2022
Good stops
May 29, 2025
Solid coffee table book, compelling title and contents are as promised. Might make you seem more interesting than you are.
December 31, 2019
Neméně dobré pokračování prvního dílu.
Zní trochu komicky říci: "Ještě nejdu spát, chci si prohlížet autobusové zastávky."
Zní trochu komicky říci: "Ještě nejdu spát, chci si prohlížet autobusové zastávky."
Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews