In Deptford, there’s a monument to Peter the Great crafted by Mihail Chemiakin. Viewing it, much like encountering the artist’s other works, is a challenge that often leaves observers tearful—not from the depth of emotion it might inspire, but rather from its sheer lack of appeal.
In February 2024, in a statement marking the anniversary of the Russian invasion, anonymous artists transformed the sculpture with the vibrant blue and yellow of the Ukrainian flag, enhancing its appearance significantly, in my view. A clear case of polishing a turd!
This monument has quite a fascinating history. Contrary to initial assumptions, the peculiar box on its left side is not a miniature armoured vehicle but rather a makeshift shroud concealing evidence of vandalism.
In the summer of 2022, the sculpture and its surroundings were damaged—part of its fencing was torn apart, and a side element next to Peter was disrupted. Police investigations suggested the motive was not political but rather the theft of metals by hooded vandals, who remain at large.
The incident sparked a debate over who should restore this unique masterpiece. The owners of the adjacent residential complex promptly distanced themselves, asserting responsibility solely for the promenade, not the statue. The local council would probably have Peter demolished, an action it cannot pursue due to lack of ownership. It seems the monument remains under the custodianship of the Russian embassy, which erected this controversial piece in 2001. In a diplomatic withdrawal, they excused themselves from any financial contributions to its restoration, citing frozen accounts. Lucky bastards!
Thus, the bronze figure stands, a sentinel beside a dark green box, a poignant metaphor for our era. Yet, this restrained design hides a more audacious story beneath the surface. Hidden within the cubic structure lies a Chemiakin creation far more scandalous: a monument to a “court dwarf,” a piece one hopes remains forever hidden.
As if this wasn’t enough, Chemiakin initially envisioned a raucous display of court jesters baring their bottoms—a spectacle that would have turned heads and raised eyebrows. But in the end, the design was reined in, leaving Deptford with a single figure: a dwarf jester balancing a ship and globe. All’s well that ends well, I suppose?
Elia Kabanov is a science writer covering the past, present and future of technology (@metkere)
Illustration and photo by Elia Kabanov.