PUSHKIN'S LAST SUPPER

After I left the No. 2 train and took this long escalator up to Nevsky Prospekt, I walked toward No. 18, this club named The Literary Club. And I will tell you why. I quote from a pamphlet I got from the club, once I found it:

"To tour Saint Petersburg without visiting W. Wolf and T. Beranger's former confectionary, which they opened at the corner of Nevsky Prospect and the Moika in 1835, will be a big mistake.

It is authentically known that it was the last cafe called in by the great Russian poet Alexander Pushkin just before his fatal duel in the evening of January 27, 1837.

Many famous Russian writers such as Krylov, Belinsky, Dostoyevsky, Saltykov-Shcherin, Chernyshevsky and others, composed here plots of their works sipping coffee and eating cakes.

In the memory of this original Pushkin's Peterburg the "Literary Cabe"is opened at the place of the former Wolf and Beranger's confectionary. Now it offers Russian and European cuisine. Every day, you can enjoy live classic music and Russian romances in the evening."

I had to pass my street, Konyushrnnaya, to get there. I was, without question, the worst dressed there and I wondered for a moment, if they would let up go upstairs. No problem. I ordered a beer and listened to the piano player, who seemed to know all the American standards from the 40's. Name it, he played it.

Upstairs is fairly small, and diners occupied about three or four tables. All were dressed for the evening.

Since he was playing American music, I had this bright idea of tipping him in US dollars. So, about 90 percent through my tall glass of beer, I sent $5 to him via the waiter. I also handed the waiter a 500 ruble note to pay the 140 ruble bill.

Well, what do you think happened? The pianist invites me to sit up front, by his right hand, at a table, on a chair which he turned around to face the piano, with just a space to walk between us. On arrival at this exhalted spot, a lady did some translating. I told them I was Jamaican, which I always do, because I am, and he started playing something which he said was Jamaican but I didn't quite recognize.

Then he started playing tons of songs, most of which I recognized, some of which I tried to sing sotto voce to let him know I knew them. Songs like I did it my way, which I had heard Frank Sinatra sing earlier in the day; that song which Ms. Bobby Brown made famous, from that movie, and lots more. Then the lady started to sing. I think she had a wonderful voice. She sang quite a few songs.

An attractive blond, probably bleached, who had been sitting motionless on the bench at his left, for the past 25 minutes, detached herself and headed for another table.

The lady, Marina Belan, soprano, sang a few Russian songs, one of which I had requested. A very sad song. I confirmed afterwards that it was, indeed, a sad song. Had to do with nostalgia; being away from Russia.

For the past 15 minutes, he, Alexander Kagan, winner of Glinka and Bach Piano competitions, had been urging Marina to get their two CDs. She did so with a show of reluctance. Finally, when the "concert" ended I asked her how much for the two CDs. She said $10 each. I gave her $20. Now I had two $1 notes in my name, but no matter.

I asked them if they were aware of Paul Robeson, a friend of Russia, and Alexander sat down again and pounded out two of Robeson's better known songs.

I tell you, for me it was an unforgettable experience.

Maybe it was midnight when I got home. Maybe later.

Patrick Barry Barr