Interview with the founder of the Museum of Pre-Revolutionary Glamour, Svetlana Rykunova

The subject of our interview is the founder of the Museum of Pre-Revolutionary Glamour – Svetlana Rykunova. We talked about her journey from international banking to collecting antiques and founding a museum, and about what makes the era of pre-revolutionary glamour especially appealing to the modern audience.

Svetlana, tell us about your path to collecting: how did it all begin?

This is a lifelong journey. It's about the search for and understanding of oneself from within: what one truly likes, what excites and propels one forward, about things that give energy. About inner freedom and creativity. I was born and raised in the center of Moscow — on Petrovka Street. My father worked on Petrovka as a senior official, and my mother worked at a studio in Stoleshniki. We didn't have a dacha, and my whole childhood took place in the historic center of Moscow. With my parents and alone I walked many times along the route: Kuznetsky Most – Stoleshniki – Bolshaya Dmitrovka – Tverskaya – Petrovka – Neglinka. At the time it felt natural and familiar.

I clearly remember the rows of second-hand booksellers and odd artists on Kuznetsky Most. It was a special, mysterious world — a kind of intelligentsia secret that seemed known only to locals. I always liked that neighborhood. But the most memorable evenings were in the “old” apartments of my mother's friends on Tverskaya. Whether from the height of the ceilings or the scent of those apartments filled with curious items, I felt dizzy. Perhaps it was then that I 'caught' a love for old Moscow and everything antique.

My mother worked as an artistic mender in a studio near Tverskaya Street. I often waited for her at the warehouse of finished garments and could spend hours looking at rows of diverse clothing, scattered patterns, fabric scraps, beads and beautiful multicolored threads.

In the evenings I loved listening to the radio. In those days every kitchen had a radio set. It looked unremarkable and the sound sometimes crackled and hissed, but what amazing programs and radio plays it offered! It was probably then that I became an avid listener, passionately interested in history, literature and culture.

And then perestroika suddenly struck — and my life changed sharply. The communal flat where we lived with my parents was cleared, and we moved to a larger apartment in a residential district. Later I finished school and enrolled in the then-fashionable Plekhanov Institute. I didn't really know what I wanted to be, so I went there to keep company with a classmate. As often happens, she failed, and I was admitted. So I simply studied and tried to be a responsible student, and I graduated with honors.

Those were turbulent, uncertain times. There was no time to reflect — one had to quickly step into adult life. So when I was offered an internship at a bank and then to stay on there, I agreed without hesitation. That's how it all began. Over time the banks I worked for changed, but my positions and salary grew.

Over time I married and had a daughter. Everything like everyone else. But gradually a longing began to accumulate from this “happy life.” I desperately lacked creativity, self-expression and something real and authentic that could bring light and benefit to people! At first I tried to suppress it. Why, I asked myself, do I need creativity and culture if my profession is well-paid?

A way out appeared unexpectedly. During my numerous business trips around Russia and the world I began collecting antique trinkets and rare vintage items from flea markets. It started with cameos, then jewelry and lorgnettes appeared — and the process took off. My relatives and friends were surprised, and sometimes even critical, but I enjoyed it!

Over time my retro collection began to grow: statuettes, small tables, consoles and other impractical items appeared. My mother grumbled quietly, but I had no intention of stopping. However, some element was missing from the puzzle, and sometimes I asked myself: what is my true vocation? Or, as it's now common to say, my purpose?

You made the journey from international banking to creating a museum — what prompted you to change fields and what professional skills proved useful when creating the museum?

The imposition of sanctions by Western countries changed the fates of many people — including mine. At the time I worked at a Turkish bank. But one day my boss told me that due to a new package of sanctions the company could no longer keep an employee from Russia on staff. It was like a bolt from the blue! However, I took the situation positively — as a sign from above. Fate finally gave me a chance to break out of the closed circle.

Then I decided to look inward and remember what I truly love, what I breathe for. I don't know how, but my iPhone guessed: it showed an ad in contextual search for a course training tour guides at the school 'Guide Through the Eyes of an Engineer.' And I thought: 'I certainly won't become a tour guide, but I'll learn a lot of interesting cultural things — I'll distract myself among smart people!'

The training became pure inspiration. And the most pleasant moment was preparing and writing the graduation thesis! I pondered the topic for a long time and ultimately chose it taking into account two factors: the availability of premises in that neighborhood and my financial experience. My graduation tour was titled 'Old money in the architecture of Kuznetsky Most.' The idea of a museum dedicated to the pre-revolutionary era had lived in me for a long time — and over time I realized I had all the tools to bring it to life.

How did it happen? It's simple. I listened to guides on Kuznetsky Most — and all of them insisted: Kuznetsky was the center of fashion, the most expensive street in pre-revolutionary Moscow. But you couldn't really feel it: you can't touch the past. Then I thought: what if my collection became a door into that era? So that everyone could feel the rustle of ball gowns, try on a top hat or peer through a monocle — and truly immerse themselves in the past.

It was a transition from working with numbers to working with meanings. At some point I realized that the stories frozen in old objects moved me much more than stock market charts. Strangely enough, my banking experience turned out to be not just useful — it became the foundation.

Creating a museum is a complex project, and skills from my former life formed its basis:
• financial planning made it possible to turn a dream into reality;
• strategic thinking helped create a unique concept that stimulates the imagination and encourages visitors to explore the ethics, morals and manners of Belle Époque aristocratic society;
• negotiation skills — to build a team around me and find partners.
In essence, I built the museum as a business project with a special mission: instead of financial profit we invest in popularizing Russian history, create cultural value and give our guests unforgettable emotions.

In your opinion, what makes the era of pre-revolutionary glamour particularly attractive to the modern viewer?

We live in an era of digital, ephemeral glamour. In the age of social networks where status is measured in likes and beauty by filters. Against this lightness and transience we feel a subconscious longing for authenticity. Pre-revolutionary glamour was material, tangible and... dangerous. It was a world where beauty demanded sacrifices — from a tightly laced corset to a drop of arsenic for aristocratic pallor. Where reputation was built over years and ruined by a single wrong movement of a fan. Where every appearance in society was a strategic operation, and every piece of jewelry was a statement.

The modern viewer is attracted not just to aesthetics. They are drawn by drama, high stakes and the sense that behind each object there is something more: fate, capital, love or tragedy. We are tired of the disposable; we seek the eternal. And we find it in this fragile but so authentic 'Mirror of the Era.' Pre-revolutionary glamour is not just fashion, it's a whole universe of meanings where every accessory was a code and every gesture a signal.

A modern person, weary of digital noise, finds it incredibly interesting to touch an era where status was defined not only by a bank balance but by regal composure and the skill of playing the social game, where a top hat could cost more than a year's salary and a single glance over a fan could decide the fate of a deal.

It was a world where money was not only a means but theater, where each participant played their role and intrigues and passions simmered under silk behind a façade of diamonds. Today we seek meanings and rituals that make life deeper — and that is precisely what the Belle Époque era gives us.

How is the museum's collection replenished?

The museum is my beloved collection gathered from around the world. Behind each exhibit there is its own story and memories:

- a friend sometimes points me where to go;
- sometimes I find a rarity at an auction;
- a colleague may offer or hand over a family heirloom;
- and sometimes kind people via social networks bring artifacts to preserve them for posterity.

I value this greatly, because it's not just about objects, but about an exchange of energy, memory, a desire to do good and to inscribe one's name into history. Every item passes through my hands, and I always look for not only beauty but the story, the mystery of the time it holds.

What tour programs does the museum offer?

- 'Dramatic Secrets of Russian Glamour: immersion into the fashion and style of the 19th century' — the main tour.
- 'The Brotherhood of the Pre-Raphaelites. The slandered green fairy: the story of the rise, fall and revival of absinthe (the bohemians' drink).'
- 'Kuznetsky Most: the place where money went mad. How to develop the ability to attract money by changing your financial mindset.' Stories of magnates and bankers who changed the face of Moscow: how their money mindset works today.

I am especially proud of our financial breakfasts on Thursdays — they show how past experience helps to earn today. For example: 'Bonds: from Polyakov's empire to the app on your phone.'

In development:
- 'Parisian debts of Moscow shopkeepers: how Russian ladies ruined their husbands on Kuznetsky Most.' Stories of million-ruble expenses, forged bills and secret milliner lovers.
- 'Bankruptcy in velvet: how aristocrats hid their ruin. The art of appearing wealthy with empty pockets — tricks and ploys.'

What are the long-term plans for the 'Mirror of the Era' museum?

The Museum of Pre-Revolutionary Glamour is a time machine to Moscow of 1812–1917 with authentic exhibits from the era known as the Belle Époque: genuine crinolines, ball gowns two hundred years old, collapsible top hats, canes, corsets, bohemian lorgnettes and monocles, bottles and fragrances by Rallet, Brocard and hundreds of other rare items.

The mission of our project is to create around the Museum a community of people who share cultural values. Through live discussions we cover a wide range of topics: from literature, fashion, everyday life and aesthetics in the atmosphere of genuine antiques to reflecting on the prospects of the future through the prism of historical experience. The lecture series of the Russian Circle 'Mirror of the Era' brings together historians, art historians, collectors and everyone who values the principles of antique culture.

---