"Working at Izvestia was incredibly exciting"
How the Izvestia staff worked in the old constructivist building on Pushkin Square, why the Famusov House, which Pushkin and Griboyedov visited, was demolished, and how much money was allocated to the newspaper's correspondent abroad when he settled in a new country. This was told by Boris Pilyatkin, Izvestia's oldest journalist. After becoming an employee of the publication in 1966, he worked for it for more than half a century, including for many years as a collector in Africa. His fate is inextricably linked with the history of Izvestia. Boris Arnoldovich celebrates his 95th birthday on May 4. We congratulate him on this date and publish the memoirs of the master of journalism.
About working in the old Izvestia building
Even before the war, when I was a schoolboy and walking along Pushkin Square, my attention was attracted by the mysterious house, a masterpiece of constructivism designed by architect Grigory Barkhin. This building, where the Izvestia newspaper editorial office was located at that time, literally attracted me.
I can say that I've always wanted to work at Izvestia. After graduating from the Faculty of Law at Moscow State University, I was involved in legal practice for three years, I was a member of the bar association, and then I was like the Moon before Izvestia. Then he changed his profession and became a journalist for Evening Moscow. When two employees from there moved to Izvestia, they recommended me to their new position. I was 36 years old. July 1, 1966, when I opened the heavy door and crossed the threshold of the editorial office for the first time, I consider the main day of my biography.
I became an employee of the international department, he occupied the fourth floor, it was extremely crowded. In our room, the tables were placed very close to each other. Then there was the office of the deputy editors (there were four of them — two for the countries of the socialist bloc and two for non—CIS countries), and even further away was the office of the editor, the head of the entire foreign department. Behind it is the office of a political commentator. It was a special position: it was appointed by the Politburo, and political observers were not subordinate to either the editor-in-chief or anyone else inside the newspaper. They were supposed to know what to write themselves.
In addition to the department itself, there was also an office for the foreign press, with the head and the lovely girls who kept the dossier. In fact, they performed the function of an internal audit bureau. The management was located on the sixth floor and was also unusually crowded. The newspaper had a huge staff, and it was difficult to fit in the old building.
About the editorial office's work schedule
When I got to Izvestia, I didn't have any acclimatization period. Everyone around me became my comrades, some became my friends, including very close ones. In general, the atmosphere was extremely creative and pleasant.
They came to work at 09:00. We were holding a meeting in our foreign department. There was an editorial meeting at 10:00. It was led by the editor-in-chief, and the issue was also formed there. We didn't have to visit her, but it was just really interesting. All the work on the texts had to be completed by 4 p.m. The Moscow edition of Izvestia was signed at 17:00 and was already distributed at 18:00. The newspaper was traditionally published in the evenings. I think this is the invention of Alexey Adjubey, the legendary Izvestia editor-in-chief. He really didn't like staying up late.
Technically, our work ended at 18:00. But there was also a country release, and it was different from the Moscow one. The scourge of Izvestia in Soviet times was officialdom: news reports on the activities of the country's leadership. On the fourth page of the newspaper one could read: "The publisher is the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR." And if Pravda was considered a party publication, Izvestia was the mouthpiece of the government. Therefore, you can not do without officialdom. Of course, such news could come much later. There were people on duty at the editorial office to put them up. I had to be on duty, too.
About how they didn't build a skyscraper on Tverskaya Street
As I said, the old building was very crowded. And in the 1970s, the idea arose that the editorial office should move. At that time, the Stolichny cinema, the best in the city, was located on the corner with Tverskaya Street. And between it and the historic Izvestia building is a long three—story mansion in old Moscow, the so-called Famusov House. It was built in the middle of the XVIII century by Major General Rimsky-Korsakov and successfully survived the fire of 1812. When Pushkin arrived from Mikhailovsky, he was invited there. Griboyedov was there too. It is believed that he wrote the characters of "Woe from Wit" from the participants of the balls that were held at the Rimsky-Korsakovs. Hence the popular name "Famusov's House".
Many cultural figures, including Dmitry Likhachev and Irakli Andronikov, said that it was necessary to propose a project for the new Izvestia building that would preserve the Famusov House. And so architect Yakov Belopolsky and his workshop designed a 180-meter-high, 52-story building. This tower was supposed to stand on the corner, instead of the cinema, and connect two floors with the old Izvestia building. At the same time, the Famusov House remained untouched, and a winter garden would have been laid out behind it. Our internal large-circulation newspaper, Izvestianets, published an issue with a picture of this tower on the cover and a large caption: "This is the project we are all for." It was supposed to house not only the newspaper's editorial office, but also Moskovskaya Pravda and Trud, and a helipad was to appear at the top. The most beautiful project!
The Moscow City Council building
All this went to the Moscow City Council. But they said, "If there is an earthquake in Moscow, where will your house fall? To the Moscow City Council. Therefore, we do not need such a tower." And they decided to adopt another project, for which it was necessary to demolish the Famusov House. And to justify this, the authorities asked one young man to write devastating material — they say, all these are fables, there were no Griboyedov and Pushkin there. And it was perceived as a verdict, because Izvestia itself had published such an article. I don't know if that person is still alive, but for me he has since ceased to exist.…
After the demolition of the Famusov House, I participated in a clean—up, clearing the rubble - I can't say that I was happy. But then I went on a business trip to Africa for a few years, and when I returned, I found myself no longer in a grand old building, but in a newly built faceless eight-story house.
About communication with the editorial staff from abroad
Izvestia had correspondents on almost all continents, except perhaps Antarctica. And each of those who worked with me was a major expert on the country he wrote about—Italy, the United States, and Japan.… I was doing Africa. And being there was the greatest happiness. But there are also a number of difficulties associated with this.
The only way to communicate was by telephone. The articles were dictated. The most important division of Izvestia was the stenographers, who worked their asses off, but took order after order from the correspondents. But it was one thing to dictate the name of Kennedy or Reagan, and another thing was Odumegwu-Ojukwu, a general from Nigeria. I had to spell it out. According to the rules, every correspondent abroad had to have a secretary who did just that. It was my wife. I was joking that this is the case in our Soviet country when the boss is obliged to live with his secretary.
So, I typed on a typewriter, left it to my wife. And there was an agreement with Izvestia that the editorial office should call at such and such a time. When they called, sometimes an hour or two late, she dictated the texts. Did you have to make a lot of materials? No one has ever given a norm. It was the decision of each correspondent — what and when he should write. Then it turned out that, according to statistics, I was in second or third place among foreign colleagues in terms of the number of materials. But it's one thing if you're a correspondent in France — you're just walking along the boulevards of Paris, looking around, and now you have a text ready. And the other thing is when you're in empty Mozambique, where nothing is happening. I had to be creative.
About setting up in Mozambique
When I arrived in Mozambique, I received $10,000 for a car and an apartment.
I rented a hotel room, a place to work, opened a mailbox, ordered a newspaper... I had an estimate where everything was written out — how much I could spend on an apartment, on a phone, on a car, on books… And it was necessary to monitor the spending of public money very strictly. Some of my colleagues got burned out by this. One correspondent, for example, lost money in a casino.
I carried the money in my pocket because I couldn't leave it at the hotel. When I first found myself on the streets of Mozambique, I didn't feel very good, because in most of the countries where I had been, they spoke English or French, which I knew, but here they only spoke Portuguese. I saw a sign at the cinema: Cativo do amor. I went in and it turned out to be "Slave of Love" in Portuguese.
At the same time, all the Portuguese from Mozambique fled. At the bank, three white girls told me that "we're going to leave now, and you're going to cry, because there won't be any Europeans left at all." Then I realized that I had to survive somehow. Fortunately, our geologists, doctors, and translators were in the country.… I loved visiting them, writing about their work. One of these translators started giving me Portuguese lessons. And in just three months, I began to understand him. Without knowledge of the language and the country where you live, the correspondent is mute!
In general, working at Izvestia was incredibly exciting. Of course, Izvestia has changed over time. New technical tools appeared, and the newspaper itself underwent transformations more than once. But despite all the crisis moments, among all the newspapers that existed in my century, only Izvestia remained, retaining its status. It's a brand that exists and will continue to exist. And if one day newspapers use AI instead of authors, I am sure that it will be the most intelligent in Izvestia.
Переведено сервисом «Яндекс Переводчик»
