Hotel Metropol (Moscow)

Hotel Metropol (Moscow)

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Tel. (499) 501 7800

Subway: Teatralnaya

 

Description

Hotel Metropol (Moscow)

The Metropol hotel is a historic hotel in the center of Moscow, built in 1899-1907 in the art Nouveau style. It is noteworthy that this is the largest preserved hotel in Moscow, built before the 1917 revolution. This beautiful building is the product of a unique collaboration between architects William Walcott, Lev Kekushev, Vladimir Shukhov and artists Mikhail Vrubel, Alexander Golovin, and Nikolai Andreev.

In 1898, Savva Mamontov and Petersburg Insurance bought up most of the land around the former Chelyshev hotel. Mamontov, a Manager and sponsor of a private Opera house, started to transform the square into a large cultural center built around the Opera hall. In 1898, a professional jury of an open competition chose the work of Lev Kekushev, however, Mamontov intervened and appointed a new English architect, William Walcott, who proposed an improved project in the art Nouveau style. Subsequently, Mamontov hired Kekushev as a construction Manager. Soon after, Savva Mamontov was jailed for fraud, and the project was taken over by Petersburg insurance, dropping the original plans to the Opera hall.

In 1901, the top facing burned down and had to be rebuilt from scratch in reinforced concrete. Kekushev and walcot hired a constellation of first-year artists, including Mikhail Vrubel to create the Princess of Dreams mosaic panel, Alexander Golovin to create a small ceramic panel, and sculptor Nikolai Andreev to finish the plaster friezes. The Metropol hotel was completed in 1907. However, it is quite far from the original walcot design.

In 1918, the hotel was nationalized by the Bolshevik administration, and the hotel was renamed the Second house of Soviets. The first house of Soviets was the national hotel. It housed the living quarters and offices of the growing Soviet bureaucracy. It was eventually converted to its original hotel function in the 1930s and underwent a major restoration in 1986-1991 by Finnish companies as part of bilateral trade between the USSR and Finland. Today, the "Metropol" has 365 rooms, each of which has a special shape or decoration.

 

History

The Hotel Metropol's story begins in the late 1890s, rooted in the ambitious vision of Russian industrialist and arts patron Savva Mamontov. Mamontov, who owned Russia's first private opera company, initially conceived the project as a grand "palace of the arts" in the heart of Moscow, directly across from the Bolshoi Theatre. His plan included a massive complex featuring a 3,000-seat auditorium, art galleries, a luxurious hotel, and a first-class restaurant. To realize this, Mamontov partnered with the Petersburg Insurance company and consolidated land around the former Chelyshev Hotel in 1898. The project blended cultural ambition with commercial enterprise, aiming to create a hub for Moscow's elite and artistic community.
Construction began in 1899, with Scottish-Russian architect William Walcot leading the design in the Art Nouveau (or "Style Moderne") style, which was gaining popularity in Europe. Walcot collaborated with Russian architects like Lev Kekushev and a team of prominent artists, including Mikhail Vrubel (who created the iconic majolica panel "Princess of Dreams" on the facade), Nikolai Andreyev, and Alexander Golovin. These artists infused the building with elements drawn from Russian folklore, vibrant ceramics, mosaics, and stained glass, making it a masterpiece of decorative art. However, the project faced early setbacks: in 1899, Mamontov was arrested on embezzlement charges (later acquitted but financially ruined), forcing the Petersburg Insurance company to take over. A devastating fire in 1901 destroyed much of the partially built structure, delaying progress and requiring redesigns.

Completion and Grand Opening (1905)
Despite the challenges, the hotel was completed in 1905 (though some sources note final touches extending to 1907). It opened its doors in January 1905 amid revolutionary unrest in Russia, which forced Tsar Nicholas II to concede constitutional reforms later that year. The Metropol set a new standard for luxury in Moscow, becoming the city's first hotel to offer modern amenities like electric lighting, hot running water, telephones in every room, elevators, and international cuisine. It also featured an American-style bar off the lobby, drawing cosmopolitan travelers, artists, and the local elite. The building's facade, with its colorful majolica tiles and asymmetrical design, quickly made it a landmark on Theatre Square.
From 1905 to 1917, the Metropol thrived as a social and cultural epicenter. It hosted glamorous events, performances, and gatherings for Moscow's well-to-do. Notable early guests included celebrities, politicians, and intellectuals, establishing its reputation as a "stomping ground" for the glamorous. The hotel's restaurant and bar became hotspots, blending European sophistication with Russian flair.

Revolution and the Soviet Era (1917–1930s)
The Russian Revolution of 1917 dramatically altered the Metropol's fate. In early 1918, as the Bolshevik government relocated from Petrograd to Moscow, the hotel was nationalized and repurposed as the "Second House of Soviets." It served as temporary housing and offices for senior Bolshevik officials, including key figures like Lenin, who reportedly addressed crowds from its balcony. The once-luxurious rooms became bureaucratic workspaces, and the building witnessed pivotal moments, such as the sending of the telegram ordering the execution of Tsar Nicholas II and his family in 1918.
During the 1920s, the Metropol continued as a government hub amid the chaos of civil war and famine. By the late 1920s, as the Soviet regime stabilized, plans emerged to restore its hotel function. It reopened to the public as a hotel in 1931, though under state control, catering to foreign diplomats, journalists, and visitors. This period saw it host espionage activities and underground scenes, including a notorious public urinal behind the hotel that became a clandestine meeting spot for Moscow's gay community in the 1950s (as noted in accounts of British spy Guy Burgess). The hotel's Art Nouveau features were preserved, but its role shifted to symbolize Soviet hospitality for international guests.

World War II and the "Red Hotel" (1941–1945)
During World War II, the Metropol gained a new layer of notoriety as a press center for foreign journalists covering the Eastern Front. In 1941, as Nazi forces approached Moscow, the hotel housed British and American correspondents under tight Soviet control. It became known as the "Red Hotel," where propaganda, censorship, and surveillance were rampant. Journalists like those from The New York Times and BBC lived and worked there, enduring air raids and extreme cold (temperatures dropped below -35°C in the winter of 1941). A downed German bomber was even displayed in front of the hotel as a propaganda trophy. The Metropol's staff, including waiters and maids, were often NKVD informants, turning the building into a hub of intrigue and controlled information flow.

Post-War Years and Renovations (1945–1991)
After the war, the Metropol reverted to its role as a premier hotel, attracting celebrities, politicians, and spies during the Cold War. It hosted figures like American singer Paul Robeson, French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre, and even served as a backdrop for diplomatic events. However, by the 1980s, the building had deteriorated, reflecting the broader decline of Soviet infrastructure.
A major turning point came in 1991, following the collapse of the Soviet Union. The hotel underwent extensive renovations, modernizing facilities while preserving its historical elements. It became one of Russia's first five-star hotels and joined international chains, regaining its luxury status.

Modern Era and Cultural Legacy (1991–Present)
Since 2012, the Metropol has been owned by Russian businessman Alexander Klyachin, who has invested in further modernization, including room updates and the addition of fine-dining options like the SAVVA restaurant and Shalyapin bar (named after opera singer Feodor Chaliapin, an early patron). The hotel remains a protected cultural monument, with its original Art Nouveau interiors, mosaics, and historic suites intact. It has inspired literature, notably Amor Towles' 2016 novel A Gentleman in Moscow, which fictionalizes a count's house arrest there from 1922 onward, highlighting its role in Russian history.
Today, the Metropol stands as Moscow's largest pre-revolutionary hotel, blending its storied past with contemporary luxury. It has witnessed revolutions, wars, and cultural shifts, hosting everyone from Bolshevik leaders to modern celebrities like kings, politicians, and artists. Its facade and interiors continue to draw visitors, symbolizing Russia's turbulent 20th-century history and enduring elegance.

 

Architectural and artistic features

"Metropol "is considered to be one of the most striking historical and architectural monuments of art Nouveau in Moscow. A whole galaxy of famous and talented architects and artists worked on the creation of the hotel complex. In addition to William Valkot, Lev Kekushev and Nikolai Shevyakov, architects P. p. Visnevsky, S. S. Shutsman, V. V. Voeikov, S. P. Galenzovsky, V. I. Rubanov, M. M. Peretyatkovich, I. A. German, P. Vulsky, A. Erichson, V. Vesnin, I. Zholtovsky and (presumably) F. Shechtel participated in the interior design. Murals and elements of the interior decor were made according to the sketches of V. Vasnetsov and K. Korovin. Unlike the facades, which are designed in strict stylistic unity, the interior decoration is characterized by polystylism: there are interiors in the pseudo-Russian style, and in the spirit of Neoclassicism.

The architectural appearance of the "Metropol" is characterized by strict lines. Elements of pseudo-Gothic (turrets, pinacles) can be seen through the techniques typical of modernity. The ground floor, faced with red granite and solved in the form of an arcade, contrasts with the plastered smooth upper floors, giving the massive structure an airiness. To visually facilitate the extended facades, a carefully designed division is used both vertically — with numerous protrusions, including risalites and Bay Windows, and horizontally — with an openwork ribbon of balcony grating covering the entire Central facade. The architect M. M. Peretyatkovich participated in the decorative finishing of the hotel facades and in the creation of the drawing of the balcony grating.

According to Savva Mamontov, when creating the hotel, special attention should have been paid to the artistic design of the building. As a passionate promoter of the work of his artist friends, Mamontov wanted to use the facades of a building in the center of Moscow to perpetuate the works of a new direction in art. Not least of all, this circumstance influenced the preference of the Valkot project over others — it was more adapted for artistic additions. It is also important that Mamontov's favorite brainchild was the Abramtsevo ceramic workshop: panels for the "Metropol"were made here. Its facades are decorated with majolica panels, the most famous of which is the Princess of Dreams, based on a painting by Mikhail Vrubel; it occupies a Central place on the main facade of the hotel. Several other majolica panels were made based on sketches by Alexander Golovin and Sergey Chekhonin — "Thirst", "Worship of the deity", "Worship of nature", "Life", "Naiad bathing", "worship of antiquity"and " Noon". The sculptural frieze "Seasons" encircling the building was made by Nikolai Andreev.

The hotel "Metropol" was perceived by its contemporaries as an embodied Manifesto of new art, largely due to its rich, unusual and refined decoration.

"Princess Of Dreams»
Panels Vrubel "Princess Dreams" called the most famous murals of Moscow. It is based on the story of the drama in the poems of Edmond Rostand La Princesse lointaine, in the Russian translation by T. L. Shchepkina-Kupernik called "Princess of Dreams". One of the actors in the play is the Troubadour Jofre Rudel, whose legend of feeling for a Lady and the motives of" distant love " of his songs formed the basis of the plot. The play premiered on the Russian stage in January 1896 in Saint Petersburg. A romantic story about the sublime desire for love and perfect beauty, the contemplation of which is achieved at the cost of death, was a resounding success with the public. There was a waltz "Princess of Dreams", and even perfume and chocolate with this name.

In the same year, 1896, S. Yu. Witte ordered Mikhail Vrubel two paintings for the upcoming Nizhny Novgorod art and industrial exhibition. One of them Vrubel performed on the plot of the play rostana, the second - "Mikula Selyaninovich" - on the epic story. However, the inspection of the panels and sketches caused great displeasure among the members of the Imperial Academy of arts, who did not recommend that Vrubel's works be displayed at the exhibition. Then Savva Mamontov decided to demonstrate them in a separate pavilion, built on his own initiative. But this idea turned out to be a failure: despite the favorable assessment of critics, the public reacted to the works of Vrubel unusually hostile.

When developing the project of the hotel "Metropol", Mamontov had the idea to repeat the "Princess of Dreams" in ceramics and thereby put it on public display forever. Since then, the creation of Vrubel, depicting a dying young knight and a Princess bending over him, is available to every passer-by. The painting panel, which was shown at the Nizhny Novgorod exhibition, is now on display in the Vrubel hall in the Tretyakov gallery.
 
Hall of the restaurant " Metropol»
In the design of the lobby of the restaurant participated painter F. Oborsky, sculptors V. L. Gladkov and V. A. Kozlov. Abramtsevskaya facing tiles are used in the decoration of the room.

Big hall
In 1903-1905, after a fire that occurred two years earlier, the restaurant hall was re-designed in the forms of modern French-Belgian orientation by the architect S. p. Galenzovsky. The ceiling of the hall was designed by engineer V. G. Shukhov by specialists of the Moscow branch of Artur Koppel JSC. Sketches for the ceiling paintings were prepared by artists S. V. Chekhov and T. A. Lugovskaya, and tapestry sketches by P. V. Kuznetsov. In 1910, the design of the large hall of the restaurant was partially changed by the architect A. E. Erichson.

Small hall
The decor is based on V. Valkot's sketches (presumably) made by Moscow masters of M. D. Kutyrin's factory. Painting by the artist F. Oborsky.

 

Legends

The Siege of 1917: A Fortress of Terror and Bombardment
One of the most visceral legends revolves around the October Revolution of 1917, when the Metropol transformed from a symbol of luxury into a besieged fortress of death and defiance. Anti-Bolshevik forces, known as Junkers (cadet officers loyal to the Provisional Government), barricaded themselves inside the hotel's thick walls, turning it into a makeshift stronghold to defend approaches to Red Square and the City Duma. For a harrowing week, they held out against relentless Red Guard artillery fire, with shells slamming into the building's façade, shattering windows, and scarring the ornate majolica panels.
Eyewitness accounts fuel the legend's terror: "The scene was terrifying. Shells kept hitting the walls of the hotel, exploding with an incredible crack," recalled one survivor, describing dust-choked halls and the constant roar of bombardment. Civilians trapped inside, including future Czechoslovak president Tomáš Masaryk, endured the chaos—kitchens bizarrely continued operating, serving meals amid the rubble, as if normalcy could ward off the apocalypse. American journalist John Reed, in his seminal Ten Days That Shook the World, immortalized the aftermath: a "bed of bright flowers" blooming incongruously in the debris, a surreal contrast to the blood and destruction. The Junkers eventually surrendered, but legends whisper of hidden bodies in the walls or basements, and the hotel's "indestructibility" is often attributed to a cursed resilience—surviving only to witness more horrors. This event scarred the building literally and figuratively, with bullet holes patched but never forgotten, evoking a sense of lingering violence that unnerves modern visitors.

The Den of Dissolution: "Girls of the Metropol" and Pre-Revolutionary Vice
Before the revolution, the Metropol's legends painted it as a lair of moral decay and predatory intrigue, a place where wealth bred terror in subtler forms. Opened as Moscow's pinnacle of luxury—with hot water, telephones, and a stained-glass-domed restaurant seating 2,000—it quickly gained notoriety as a hub of debauchery. British diplomat and spy Robert Bruce Lockhart, in his 1912 memoirs, described the atmosphere as one of "coarseness and rudeness," where private cabinets hid illicit affairs fueled by champagne and roubles. Phone calls from persistent call girls plagued guests, and the phrase "girls of the Metropol" became a chilling euphemism for prostitutes or women entangled in exploitative liaisons, whispered with a knowing dread by bourgeois families warning their daughters away.
This legend amplifies into tales of "dissolute youth and debauched old" trafficking in "songs and love," evoking a predatory underworld beneath the glamour. Poet e.e. cummings, in a surreal 1931 account, described "uncouth ghosts" gliding through the halls—an "apotheosis of isn’t," blending decadence with existential horror, as if the hotel's excess summoned spectral remnants of lost souls. Russian novelist Anatoly Rybakov echoed this in Children of the Arbat, portraying the Metropol as a place where vulnerable women "find her own kind of company," implying coercion and ruin. These stories fed fears of the hotel as a moral black hole, where innocence vanished into hidden rooms, a reputation that lingered even after nationalization, blending folklore with the real perils of pre-revolutionary society.

Bolshevik Shadows: Executions, Spies, and Locked Rooms
Post-1917, as the Second House of Soviets, the Metropol housed Bolshevik elites like Lenin, Stalin, Bukharin, and Sverdlov, birthing legends of secret terrors behind closed doors. A chilling tale centers on a telegram allegedly sent from the hotel ordering the execution of Tsar Nicholas II and his family in 1918—a mythic "death warrant" that symbolizes the hotel's role in the Red Terror. Room 2217 is legendary as the site where drafters of the first Soviet Constitution were imprisoned by Yakov Sverdlov, forbidden to leave until finished, evoking claustrophobic dread akin to a psychological horror.
Espionage legends add layers of paranoia: The hotel became a "trolling ground" for secret police hunting loose-lipped foreigners or compromised Russians. British spy Guy Burgess lurked there in the 1960s, and during the 1930s purges, it hosted Western intellectuals like George Bernard Shaw, who dined lavishly amid famines, blind to the horrors outside. In WWII, it sheltered Allied journalists under strict censorship, with a downed German bomber gruesomely displayed outside as propaganda, amplifying wartime fear. The overall impression was of "squatters in a haunt of the rich," with vodka-fueled chaos and debates on "free love" masking deeper repressions.

Modern Echoes: Oswald's Despair and Fictional Prisons
Contemporary legends draw from infamous guests, none more unsettling than Lee Harvey Oswald, who stayed in Room 2219 (sometimes cited as 233) for three months in 1959. Denied Soviet citizenship, he slashed his wrists in the bathtub in a suicide attempt, leaving a bloody legacy that tourists still whisper about—imagining the room's walls echoing with his desperation. Writer Lyudmila Petrushevskaya's memoir The Girl from the Metropol Hotel captures childhood amid Soviet decay, portraying the building as a gritty, abandoned world of war orphans and faded glory.
Amor Towles's novel A Gentleman in Moscow fictionalizes eternal confinement, with Count Rostov under house arrest in a tiny attic—a metaphor for the hotel as a gilded cage, blending real history with imagined terror. Mikhail Bulgakov referenced it in The Master and Margarita as a site of ghostly emanations, further blurring lines. Celebrity tales, like Michael Jackson composing "Stranger in Moscow" amid isolation, add modern unease.