Written By Darcy Gresham
Statues play an important role in our history and memory. Across the world, they symbolise commemoration by recognising important events and significant figures that have shaped society as we know it. They can be used to champion legacy, national remembrance, cultural heritage, and provoke thought about our history. Beyond the images displayed by statues, a lot can be revealed by their context. Location, such as the proximity to the town centre, shows the intention of stimulating public interaction. In 2020, waves of iconoclasm swept across Britain, and statues were pulled down, reflecting the shifting modern values influenced by debates over history. At the fall of dictatorial regimes, symbols are often eradicated to move away from their connections to the past. However, when such symbols are towering statues, this feat becomes rather a difficult one. Such was the case for Lithuania upon independence from the Soviet Union.
In 1990 Lithuania gained independence from the Soviet Union following decades of control. The Baltic nation began the twentieth century as part of Russia, first becoming independent in the fallout from the First World War. Invasion at the start of the Second World War by the Soviets, was only followed by Nazi attacks, and another Soviet invasion which was characterised by deportation and repression. In 1945, the country was absorbed into the Soviet Union and the following period under a regime of terror saw three-hundred thousand Lithuanians sent to gulags, of whom almost half did not return.
Carving an identity of independence out of the shadows of Soviet regimes proved a difficult task, made harder by the sheer volume of monuments such as statues. Not only did these monuments take up space, but they were also a costly expense for the new government. In 1998, the Lithuanian government decided to tackle the issue by announcing a competition to manage the monuments. Despite many prestigious entries from museums across the country, the winner was a mushroom farmer from Vilnius, Viliumas Malinauskas. Vitally, the proposal that Malinauskas suggested had required no state funding, and as such he was rewarded the contract, bringing to life a post-soviet monument park. This project was funded entirely by Malinauskas, who was a millionaire due to his success in mushroom cultivation. Initially, the grand plans for the park included what scholars have termed ‘Disneyfications’ which involved the inclusion of a train track which reproduced a gulag cattle truck journey that would ‘deport’ visitors from the entrance around the statues. For a time, media outlets referred to the project as a “Stalin theme park”. Although it was never executed (a sole cattle carriage sits near the entrance) there are barbed wire and control towers at the edges of the park in partial replication.
Grutas Park contains just shy of one hundred monuments. Some of the largest include a four-metre bust of Marx and a six-metre one of Lenin from the main square of Vilnius. There is a single full-sized statue of Stalin which stands amongst the trees. Historically, hundreds of these types of statues littered the cities of the Soviet Union, but after his death and gradual denunciation, the vast majority were destroyed. What was once an emblem of many, is now a rare glimpse into imposed symbolism transported into a whole new environment. A children’s park sits near the entrance, combining apparatus with sculptures, guns, and armoured cars, which are played with without discrimination.
Unsurprisingly, there have been controversies and complaints about Malinauskas’s venture and displays. Politicians took a stance, and the Catholic Church signed a petition to denounce the park. The strongest voices were those of victims of the former regime, protesting over such capitalisation of their suffering. They accused the park of profiting from their suffering, and the case even made it to constitutional court. However, with the government contract, Malinauskas retained permission for the park’s displays. Whilst it is, of course, crucial to listen to victim’s stories, the nature of the park has proven to evoke new emotions and questions for those who experience it. Keith Lowe suggests that this ridicule is one of the best ways to confront such history and deal with leftover monuments. In his writing, he persuasively illustrates that recontextualising the statues within these settings becomes a refreshing take on memory. It seems that Grutas Park deals with elements of commemoration in such a unique way that it simultaneously serves to make us question our histories and ways of memorialisation.
Dealing with reminders of old regimes is difficult, many nations illustrate that. There is no country that has ‘cracked the code’ or that has responded with a solution without controversy when recovering from a regime and memorialising the past. In Budapest, Memento Park is a similar enterprise in alterative historical legacy. A study of the visitor comment books at the park revealed that to survivors, victims, and the families of those involved, the park does evoke sad memories but overwhelmingly this is coupled with positive surprise and admiration. Overall, the museum did evoke fear and sadness, but sparked interest and increased understanding of history.
In taking statues from central locations to parks such as Grutas, we can question their purpose, and their representations. Whilst still on pedestals, they are reduced. It asks visitors to consider their understanding of history, and importantly, how it is represented. Provoking re-evaluations of such dark episodes in a way that is not possible in the classroom or other types of museums, serves to give a different angle on memory. Statues provide an insight into values and projected images of the time, signifying what was important in a way that can quickly become anachronistic when present in modern society. In placing sculptures within the sculpture park, one attempts to comprehend Soviet dominance and destruction, whilst understanding Lithuanian independence and enduring defiance within national memory. Is it not better that this is talked about rather than hidden away?
And at the end of the day, when the visitors leave? The shadows of the Soviet regime may still loom but today they are kept company by the llamas, with whom they share the park.
Bibliography
Bowman, Hannah and Ariana Zlioba. “Grutas Sculpture Park,” Contested Histories, 96. 2021.
BBC News. “Lithuania: Soviet-Era Statues Offered a Home in Russia.” BBC, July 29, 2015.
Connolly, Kate. “Soviet Theme Park to House Fallen Idols.” Guardian, Dec 6, 1999.
Dapkus, Liudas. “Stalin’s World Theme Park Draws Thousands.” NBC News, May 5, 2006.
Isaac, Rami K. and Laurencija Budryte-Ausiejiene. “Interpreting the Emotions of Visitors: A Study of Visitor Comment Books at the Grūtas Park Museum, Lithuania.” Scandinavian Journal of Hospitality and Tourism 15, no. 4 (2015): 400-424.
Olin, Dirk. “What Lithuania can Teach Us about Grappling with Confederate Statues.” Washington Post, June 18, 2020.
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