Some quiet loving part of me wants to rebel against classical religious symbols. And then some spirited movement from within is repeatedly awe struck at how far images, memories and phrases percolate from those traditions. The rebuilding of Christ the Redeemer Church struck me as frivolous politics and pragmatic tourist plunder. The sunreflected from the golden steeple dome. Danced would be a good word.
The memorial statue to the original St Basil cathedral reminds every visitor that history is subject to revision. The beauty of this cathedral, actually nine chapels, is that each one celebrates a moment in Russian geo-political history. Buried deep into the middle of the chapels a quartet was wafting choral hymns to the heavenly vaults. The acapella music spiral in to the 50 meter spyres and landed gently on the audience. A blessing.
This collection of towers is a trademark of Moscow! Having roots in full coloured living, roots in restored lives, roots in a Resurection that is more than monuments.
A scan of the horizon in Moscow is punctuated by copulas that link heaven to earth. A restoration of colour and tradition in one image.