The Monument to Chizhik-Pyzhik is one of Saint Petersburg’s most charming and whimsical landmarks, a tiny bronze statue of a siskin (a small finch) perched on the Fontanka River embankment near the First Engineer Bridge. Installed on November 19, 1994, this 11-centimeter-tall, 5-kilogram sculpture is among the smallest monuments in the world, yet it has captured the hearts of locals and tourists alike. Associated with a humorous folk song and steeped in local lore, the statue commemorates the students of the Imperial School of Jurisprudence and embodies the everyday culture of Saint Petersburg. Its location, history, superstitions, and cultural significance make it a unique addition to the city’s rich tapestry of monuments.
The Chizhik-Pyzhik monument is rooted in a 19th-century urban legend
tied to the Imperial School of Jurisprudence, a prestigious institution
founded in 1835 by Prince Pyotr of Oldenburg. Located at Fontanka
Embankment, house No. 6, across from the statue’s current site, the
school trained the sons of nobility for legal careers. Students wore
distinctive green uniforms with yellow cuffs and buttonholes, resembling
the plumage of a siskin (Russian: чиж, chizh), a small bird common in
Europe and Asia. In winter, they donned fur hats made from young
reindeer (пыжик, pyzhik), earning them the nickname “Chizhik-Pyzhik.”
According to local lore, these students were known for sneaking off
to a nearby tavern owned by merchant Nefedov to drink vodka, a habit
that inspired a comic folk song of unknown authorship:
“Chizhik-Pyzhik, where’ve you been?
Drank vodka on the Fontanka.
Took a shot, took another—
Got a headache.”
The song,
with its simple melody, became a cultural touchstone, referenced by
Russian composers like Dmitri Shostakovich and Sergei Prokofiev and even
used to teach children piano. The students’ colorful uniforms and
reputed arrogance—some sources suggest they were called “Pyzhiki” for
their haughty demeanor—further embedded the nickname in Saint
Petersburg’s folklore.
The idea for the monument emerged in the
1990s, a period of cultural renewal in post-Soviet Russia. During the
1994 Golden Ostap Festival, a humor and satire event named after the
fictional conman Ostap Bender from Soviet novels, Saint Petersburg-born
writer Andrei Bitov proposed erecting a statue to Chizhik-Pyzhik. The
festival, which celebrated whimsical public art, supported the project,
aligning with a trend of “anti-monumental” sculptures that contrasted
with the grandiose Soviet-era colossi. The monument was designed by
Georgian sculptor, director, and puppeteer Rezo Gabriadze, known for
films like Kin-dza-dza! and Mimino, and architect Vyacheslav Bukhaev,
who collaborated with Gabriadze on other Saint Petersburg sculptures,
such as the “Nose of Major Kovalev” (1995).
The Chizhik-Pyzhik statue is a bronze sculpture of a siskin,
measuring 11 centimeters (4.33 inches) in height and weighing
approximately 5 kilograms (11 pounds). Perched on a small granite
pedestal attached to the Fontanka River embankment’s wall, the bird is
positioned just above the waterline, opposite house No. 12/1, near the
First Engineer Bridge (also called Panteleimonovskiy Bridge). Its
coordinates are 59°56'30.0"N, 30°20'16.0"E, placing it in the heart of
Saint Petersburg, close to the Mikhailovsky Castle, Summer Garden, and
Field of Mars.
The statue’s diminutive size and precarious
placement—halfway down the embankment wall—make it difficult to spot
from the bridge above, especially for those unaware of its existence.
This hidden quality enhances its charm, as it feels like a secret shared
among locals and informed tourists. The siskin is depicted in a lively,
naturalistic pose, with detailed feathers and an alert stance,
reflecting Gabriadze’s skill as a sculptor. Originally, the design
intended for the bird to appear as if drinking from the river, but
winter ice prevented installation at the water’s edge, so it was mounted
higher on the wall.
The monument’s location is strategic, tying
it to the historical site of the Imperial School of Jurisprudence and
the Fontanka River, a central artery of Saint Petersburg’s canal
network. Its proximity to major landmarks like the Mikhailovsky Castle
and Summer Garden makes it accessible, yet its small scale and riverside
perch require deliberate effort to find, often necessitating a boat tour
or guidance from a local. The statue’s integration into the embankment
wall, rather than a prominent plaza, underscores its role as a monument
for the “common man,” distinct from the city’s imperial giants like the
Bronze Horseman or Alexander Column.
The Chizhik-Pyzhik monument is a focal point of local superstitions,
fostering interactive traditions that engage visitors. The most popular
ritual involves tossing coins from the bridge or embankment to land on
the statue’s pedestal without falling into the water. A successful toss
is said to grant a wish or bring good luck, a practice that draws crowds
of tourists and locals, especially students and newlyweds.
For
newlyweds, a more elaborate tradition exists: the groom lowers a glass
of vodka or champagne tied to a rope from the bridge, attempting to
clink it against the siskin’s beak without breaking the glass or
spilling the drink. If successful, the couple drinks from the glass,
ensuring a long and happy marriage. This ritual, rooted in the statue’s
association with the vodka-drinking students of the folk song, adds a
playful, romantic dimension to the monument’s appeal.
Another
superstition suggests that pouring a shot of alcohol into the Fontanka
near the statue can cure bad habits, perhaps a nod to the song’s
reference to overindulgence. These traditions have practical side
effects: coins and other offerings accumulate in the river, reportedly
collected by beggars at night, while the statue’s popularity has made it
a target for vandals.
The monument has been stolen seven times
since its installation, likely due to its small size and bronze
composition, which attract thieves seeking either souvenirs or scrap
metal. After a theft in 2002, the Museum of Urban Sculpture created
multiple copies based on the original molds, with some sources claiming
up to 12 spares are kept in reserve. Each time, the statue has been
restored or replaced, reflecting its importance to Saint Petersburg’s
cultural identity.
The Chizhik-Pyzhik monument stands out for its celebration of
everyday life and humor, contrasting with Saint Petersburg’s monumental
tributes to emperors and military victories. As scholar Thompson notes,
it represents the “common man” more authentically than Soviet-era
statues like Moscow’s “Worker and Collective Farm Woman,” which glorify
state ideology through grandiose scale. Chizhik-Pyzhik’s small size and
whimsical nature reject the “gigantomania” of Soviet monumental culture,
aligning with a post-Soviet trend of anti-monumental art that emphasizes
local stories and irony.
The statue’s connection to the Imperial
School of Jurisprudence highlights a nuanced view of Russia’s elite.
While the school trained nobility, the folk song and monument poke fun
at the students’ youthful indiscretions, humanizing them as
vodka-drinking, slightly arrogant “siskins.” This playful critique,
embedded in the statue’s design, reflects Saint Petersburg’s
self-deprecating humor and its ability to find charm in the mundane.
Gabriadze’s own commentary adds a layer of meaning, suggesting that
Chizhik-Pyzhik “helps students get through unhappy love affairs and get
around on public transport without tickets.” This tongue-in-cheek remark
frames the statue as a protector of youthful rebellion and
resourcefulness, resonating with Saint Petersburg’s student culture. The
monument’s sponsorship by the Golden Ostap Festival, which also
installed quirky sculptures like the “Nose of Major Kovalev” and an
Ostap Bender statue, situates it within a broader movement to infuse the
city with literary and satirical art.
The Chizhik-Pyzhik song
itself is a cultural artifact, its simple lyrics and melody evoking
nostalgia for Russian folklore. Its influence on composers and its use
in music education underscore its enduring presence in Russian culture,
making the statue a tangible link to this intangible heritage. The
monument also reflects Saint Petersburg’s identity as a city of canals
and bridges, where water and urban life intertwine, much like Venice,
its oft-cited counterpart.
The Chizhik-Pyzhik monument is open 24/7, free to visit, and requires
no reservations, though its location demands some effort to find.
Situated at Fontanka River Embankment, 2, it is best accessed via a walk
from metro stations like Nevsky Prospekt, Gostiny Dvor, Admiralteiskaya,
or Chernyshevskaya. The statue is most visible from the river, making
Fontanka boat tours a popular way to see it up close, as boats often
pause near the sculpture. From the First Engineer Bridge or embankment,
visitors lean over the railing to spot the tiny bird, often joining
groups tossing coins or taking photos.
Tripadvisor reviews
describe the monument as “cute,” “fun,” and “a bit of a hidden gem,”
though some note its small size makes it easy to miss without a guide or
prior knowledge. The coin-tossing ritual is a highlight, with visitors
like one reviewer who spent 200 rubles trying to land a coin, marveling
at the challenge and the coins likely littering the riverbed. Another
saw a tourist succeed, proving the task is possible but tricky. The
statue’s proximity to major attractions—Mikhailovsky Castle (0.2 km),
Summer Garden (0.3 km), and Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood (0.8
km)—makes it a convenient stop on a walking tour, though it’s not a
must-see compared to the Hermitage or Peterhof.
The monument’s
riverside setting, near the confluence of the Fontanka and Moika rivers,
offers picturesque views, especially during Saint Petersburg’s white
nights in summer. Nearby, souvenir vendors and street performers add to
the lively atmosphere. For a deeper experience, visitors can explore
related sites like the Mikhailovsky Castle Historical Museum or take a
“Myths and Legends” walking tour that includes Chizhik-Pyzhik.
The Chizhik-Pyzhik monument is a triumph of small-scale,
community-driven art in a city dominated by imperial and Soviet
grandeur. Its success lies in its accessibility and relatability,
inviting interaction through coin-tossing and vodka-clinking rituals
that feel distinctly Russian yet universally playful. Unlike the Bronze
Horseman, which exalts Peter the Great’s state-building, or the
Alexander Column, which glorifies military might, Chizhik-Pyzhik
celebrates the ordinary—students, drinking, and local folklore. This
focus on the “common man” aligns with post-Soviet efforts to reclaim
personal and local narratives after decades of state-imposed ideology.
However, the monument’s meaning is ambiguous, as Thompson observes.
Is it a tribute to the students, the song, or the broader culture of
Saint Petersburg? Its lack of a singular narrative allows for diverse
interpretations, from a satirical jab at elite arrogance to a nostalgic
nod to youthful mischief. This ambiguity enhances its appeal but risks
reducing it to a tourist gimmick, especially given the coin-tossing
frenzy, which some reviews describe as more about fun than cultural
understanding.
The statue’s repeated thefts highlight its
vulnerability and the challenges of preserving small, valuable public
art. The Museum of Urban Sculpture’s readiness with spare copies is
pragmatic but underscores the tension between the monument’s local
significance and its appeal as a “unique souvenir” for vandals.
Additionally, the coin-tossing tradition, while engaging, raises
environmental concerns about littering the Fontanka, a point not
addressed in sources but worth considering in the context of urban
conservation.
The monument’s placement on the embankment wall,
while charmingly hidden, limits its visibility and accessibility
compared to more prominent sculptures. This “for locals, by locals”
ethos, as one reviewer notes, reinforces its authenticity but may
exclude casual visitors who lack context. A plaque or sign explaining
the statue’s history could enhance its educational value without
detracting from its whimsy.