A civilization built on rivers Russia's increasingly deserted countryside and the rivers that once were its lifeblood
Primary Chronicle, compiled by a monk named Nester just after the turn of the 12th century, is one of the oldest histories of the Eastern Slavs. When writing his text, Nestor described the locations of lands in the way that was most comprehensible to his contemporaries: he listed the names of the adjacent rivers and waterways.
Medieval Rus' was a civilization built on rivers. Along Russia's rivers and roads, fur traders moved north and east. Hanseatic merchants from German trading towns gladly bought up furs in Novgorod. It was thanks to these furs, and the grand trading system they stimulated, that the Novgorod Republic, and later Muscovy, flourished.
Rivers have always played an important role in Russia's transportation system, delivering ships, cargo, and—with the success of the timber industry during the Soviet era—wood. Today, these waters are more likely to reflect the houses of disappearing villages and the stone churches of deserted settlements.
For a more in-depth look at Russia's rivers and the communities along them, Meduza presents photographer Denis Sinyakov's River Civilization. Sinyakov recorded these images during travels in May and June of 2014 and again in June and July of 2015.
The Vychegda river in the Komi Republic. Like most previously navigable rivers, Vychegda is shallow. Villages with people still living in them are only found near to the cities along the river, where there are proper roads. Even in the deeper waters, you're unlikely to find any ships. Close to villages and cities, people race around on motorboats. For the most part, people busy themselves with fishing. What else is there to do, after all?
A view from the shores of Vychegda.
Wildflowers on a table in an old wooden house belonging Anatoly's mother-in-law from Cherepovets. Anatoly is a typical "summer resident." He's trying to enjoy his summer holidays with his family in a home that used to belong to relatives who have since passed away. This house is in the now-mostly-deserted village of Rovdino, on the Sukhona river, in the Vologda region.
Anatoly and his wife and her friend, Svetlana, sit outside the house. The village has only three permanent residents remaining (everyone else stays only during the summers).
Andrey Tikalov from the village of Laikovo, showing his trophy from the banks of the Izhma river. Helping hitch our boat to the only functioning truck in the village, Andrey and his family speak with great pride about his eight-grader daughter. "Valya knows how to fish all by herself! She's been able to drive since she was ten! " He pauses, considering his next remark carefully. "It's America against Russia, they say on television. If the Americans really put the screws to us, we'll all end up living like we did in the 19th century. Those who can live on their own will be the ones to survive. It will be tough. My daughter will make it."
An oilfield near the village of Colva. According to Greenpeace, more than 4 million barrels of oil spill into the Arctic Ocean every 18 months.
Tatiana is from the village of Kolva, which is located on a river by the same name in the Komi Republic. Milking her cow, she covers the animal in a blanket, to keep her warm. Almost every year, during the ice drift, the town's residents watch the ice turn black, contaminated with oil. The nearby oil factory, in compensation for the damage it causes Kolva, repaves small sections of the downtown road. Looking at the different colors of pavement, you can count the number of oil spills over the past several years.
Father Tito, a rector at the Church of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist in the village of Myeldino, looks at the Vychegda river. He complains, "There are few churchgoers, and not enough hands to keep up repairs on the church. The local men don't want to work. They've got no more faith. Maybe this is our fate. The punishment for our sins."
An Iron Cross, or cenotaph, stands by the Vychegda river, marking a tragedy that occurred here. In Russia, most cenotaphs are found alongside highways, where motorists have died in car accidents.
An abandoned house in the village of Sedtydin on the shores of the Vychegda river in the Komi Republic. Today, a swallow and her chicks are the only residents left.
Vasily Rasskazov is the only person who lives in in the village of Vorobevo, which is located in the Vologda region. "The village council used to be here. There was a feeding base here for 300 calves here. I was a herder here, during the Soviet years. Now everything has gone to rot and fallen apart. Somehow this all could have been done more gently. I understand that it shouldn't be like it was in the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union didn't do a single goddamn good thing; it collapsed. But everything could have been a bit more gentle," Vasily says.
The interior of an abandoned home in a deserted village along the Sukhona river. Just 30 years ago, there were up to 500 Rechflot ships going in a single direction, to Veliky Ustyug. Today, looking out over the water for as many kilometers as there used to be ships, we only find a single boat chartered by a local oil company. Its main pipeline runs through this area.
Young birch trees sprout through an unfinished log cabin near the Izhma river.
A boy in the village of Laikovo on the Izhma river studies his small fish in a jar, which he lured in with breadcrumbs.
Locals celebrate the 380th birthday of their village, Sergievskaya Sloboda, located on the Sukhona river. For the fifth time in the past 25 years, the village's former and current residents celebrate the anniversary, singing songs and retelling old stories. The festival is made possible by a local entrepreneur, the owner of the town's sawmill.
A friend of the family raises a drink to Katerina Tikalova, who just finished her last day of kindergarten. In September, she will begin first grade.
A folklore ensemble from the neighboring village in Markushka performs at Sergievskaya Sloboda's holiday festival. "Russian culture is disappearing," says one young woman in the group. "The youth have already changed. They don't understand. For instance, I am in an ethnographic study group in Vologda, but there are very few of us, because nobody is interested in these things. Everybody's forgotten about such things—they just make fun of it. In Moscow, though, there's a cultural revival happening. When I went to Vologda for City Day, some teachers from Moscow visited and gave us a lesson in singing. They said they get together for every holiday, and there are always more and more people coming out to celebrate."
Preserved paintings in an abandoned brick church in the village of Medvedevo, in the Vologda region. The church, built in 1761, is a good example of Ustyug architecture. During the Soviet era, the church's first floor was used as a storage warehouse. Later, it housed the village's local community club.
The black-and-white portrait belonged to two people who once lived in this house, now abandoned, in the village of Vorobevo. Beneath it lies a reproduction of Ivan Kramskoi's "The Unknown Woman."
Carpenter and traveler Sergey Filenko from Karelia leads his boat along the waters of the Sukhona river. In 2002, Filenko in his boat left Lake Onega and sailed down the Vodla river, retracing the routes of medieval fur traders in the Ob River basin. His boat might be the only one in history to travel from Lake Onega to the Arctic Urals by oars alone. "Stalin used up Russia," Sergey says. "The Russian people used it up. And everyone else finished off the village. And now no one is left. It's the pyramids that can stand 40 centuries, and then another 40, and nothing happens to them. But a wooden house, Russian culture, the village—these things depend on the people. Without people, it all disappears in a matter of years. It burns down, rots, and in five years all you've got is forest again. And nothing more."