I'm a chess collector, chess player, and retired attorney. I've been collecting Soviet and Russian chess sets since 2014. I'm interested in their history, design, and the people who made and played with them. I have published articles on Soviet sets in the magazines of Chess Collectors International and CCI-USA, and author a column on chess collecting for American Chess Magazine. I consult with House of Staunton on the reproduction of historic chess sets. I have collaborated with NOJ Slovenia on the very first reproduction of the popular “Tal” set and with Official Staunton on the reproduction of the set of the 1966 Havana Olympiad.
Soviet Master Ilyan Maizelis included a photo of the pictured set in his famous primer “Chess Beginnings” (1937). There he described it as “Modern Chess Figures (Staunton form).” At 9. So the set dates no later than 1937. For sake of convenience, I’ll refer to it as “Maizelis’s Set,” though I have no other evidence that he actually owned or played with one like it.
Photo courtesy of Sergey Kovalenko.Photo courtesy of Sergey Kovalenko.
I recently added such a set to my Soviet and Tsarist collection.
The set is magnificently turned, carved finished, and weighted, with several small defects, a couple chipped coronet tips, broken finials on a White Bishop, a partially broken off finial on the White King, a few cracks and worn finish for character.
Chuck Grau photos.
The Black King measures 97 mm with its fully intact finial. The Kings’s finials are carved in a unique diamond pattern. The Black pieces are painted with age-consistent wear and chipping, but the White pieces have a finish approximating French polish akin to two Tsarist sets that have matriculated through my collection. Beautiful patina.
Diamond-shaped finial. Chuck Grau photo.
The Knight carving is spectacular, the best of any of my Soviet sets and even better than my best Tsarist ones. Highly detailed mane carvings on both sides of the torso. Crisp mouth and eye details. Just spectacular.
Chuck Grau Photo.
The style is of the group of sets commonly but not unreasonably mistaken for the 1933 Botvinnik Flohr match. I included pictures of several of these sets in my article on the 1933 set.
Antonio Fabiano Collection, photo.Stephen Kong Collection, photo.Murat Dzhemakulov Collection.
Shane Chateauneuf recently acquired a beautiful, related set.
Shane Chateauneuf Collection, photo.
The board accompanying my set is wonderful in its own right. Beautiful veneer worn consistent with its age. Gorgeous patina. 53 mm squares are perfectly sized for the pieces, very un-Soviet. None of the asphyxiation that Arlindo Vieira repeatedly complained of. This is perhaps another factor hinting that the set may be much older than 1937.
Chuck Grau photo.
Simply a gem.
Ilyan Lvovich Maizelis
Ilya Lvovich Maizelis
A close friend of Yuri Averbakh, Maizelis was a noted teacher and author, even outside the Soviet Union. No less than Bobby Fischer studied his work.
Courtesy of Jorge Njegovic Drndak
Soviet chess historian Jorge Njegovic Drndak has compiled this brief biography:
Ilya Lvovich Maizelis (1894-1978)
He was born on December 28, 1894 in Uman, a small village in the Cherkasy region. Having passed college in Ukraine, Ilya won the Union-wide Tournament of Cities in 1924 (a parallel tournament). Once in Moscow, Maizelis quickly joined the chess movement and became one of its most prominent figures.
Having started working as a chess journalist, Maizelis covered the Alekhine-Teichmann match (Berlin, 1921), at that time Alexander Alexandrovich’s name was not yet animated in his homeland. Ended with a score of 3:3.
Ilya Maizelis was close friends with Emanuel Lasker. It was he who during the Moscow International Tournament (1925) handed the great thinker a telegram saying that the work of the second world champion would be staged. The played Lasker ended up getting the foot of the “mill” in the match against Torre, but consoled the young man, who at first considered himself responsible for this defeat of the great chess player.
Maizelis was one of those who convinced Emanuel to move to the USSR, take Soviet citizenship and train for the national team. Shortly before leaving for America, Lasker handed the journalist the manuscript of his children’s book. Ilya’s friend Alexander Ilyin-Zhenevsky believed it was Maizelis’ duty to publish the book, but the work “How Victor Became a Chess Master” was only published in the 1970s.
Ilya Maizelis is a member of the editorial board of the magazine “64”. “Checkers and Chess in a Workers’ Club” (1925-1930), executive secretary of the publication “Soviet Chess Chronicle” (1943-1946), published in English in Moscow under the auspices of the Union Society for Cultural Relations (VOKS). He trained at the Pioneers House of the capital, but at the same time, until the late 1930s, he did not stop the practical performances, performed regularly at the finals of the Moscow championships. In 1932, Ilya Lvovich took fourth place in the championship of the capital and, of course, played in the strength of the master, but did not officially fulfill the title, opting for journalism.
Author of the books “Beginner Chess Player”, “Chess Yearbook 1937-1938”, “Fundamentals of Opening Strategy”, “For 4th Chess Players”. a and 3. “under category”, “Selected games of Soviet and International Tournaments of 1946”, “Chess Textbook Games”, “Tower vs Pawns”, “On the Theory of Tower End”, “Chess Finals. Pawns, Bishops, Horses” edited by Y. Averbakh, “chess. Fundamentals of Theory. Ilya Maizelis translated from German the books “Endgame Theory and Practice” by Johann Berger and “My System” by Aron Nimzowitsch.
With his article, he was the first in the USSR to draw attention to the 1603 painting “Ben Johnson and William Shakespeare,” attributed to Karel van Mander and depicts 17th-century English playwright playing chess. Ilya Lvovich studied the works of the poets Henry Longfellow and Heinrich Hein, translated their works into English and German.
Ilya Maizelis has compiled a chess library that is widely known not only in Moscow and the USSR, but also abroad.
“Everyone knows that Maizelis had the best chess library in Moscow and was often asked to clear up something from an old magazine or a rare book. There was a phone in the room and Ilya Lvovich used to dictate chess and variation games for a long time. Maizelis’ mother-in-law was always in the room, paralyzed and completely indifferent to everything that was going on. He sat like an idol and stared at one point.. And Maizelis, dictating movements, did not say “a-be”, like everyone else, but in a low voice – “a-be”. And then, one day, the mother-in-law, who was apparently tired of this hug to hell, said sadly, “Abe, abe… Fucking idiots! ” (J. Neishstadt).
Shortly before his death, Ilya Lvovich sold the library to good hands to preserve it for posterity. The master of Russian chess journalism passed away on December 23, 1978 in Moscow.
Despite their popularity and longevity, I have hesitated to write about the ubiquitous Valdai Nobles chessmen. It’s not that I don’t like them–I have four specimens in my collection, each with unique attributes. I am fascinated by their design and evolution, particularly the faceted knights characteristic of the mature versions. Nothing has stopped my friends Alan Power and Eva Silvertant from authoring informative articles about them.
Gulag Knights
The reason I have been unwilling to pull the trigger is simple. In his engaging 2019 essay The ‘Gulag’ Knights, Alan claims the Valdai Nobles sets were born in a Gulag in Valdai. Writes Alan:
Needless to say, the hundreds of thousands of prisoners snatched up by the Gulag could produce hundreds of thousands of chess sets, and that’s exactly what Stalin had them do. There were two main factories (or camps) that concern this brief discussion. The first “Village” (a polite Stalinist term for a penal colony) was located halfway between the main artery connecting St. Petersburg and Moscow, namely, The Valdai Regional Industrial Manufactory in Novgorod (450 km north-west of Moscow), a picturesque and densely forested area used today by the rich and famous (including Putin and his entourage) for quick summer getaways. The second ‘village’ is the Yavas Township located in the Central Volga Region of Mordovia (500km south-east of Moscow)… From these two camps came the so-called ‘Valdayski’ and Mordovian (f.k.a. “the Latvian”) sets respectively…
These are intriguing claims. As a skeptic and empiricist, I began to explore their basis. Insofar as they relate to Mordovia, they are very well-supported. But as for Valdai, Novgorod Oblast, halfway between Leningrad and Moscow, I could find no evidence of a Gulag.
From a temporal point of view, it is plausible that Nobles sets of the 1940s and 1950s were made in a Gulag. But upon Stalin’s death in 1953, the general amnesty that granted Gulag prisoners with sentences of five years or less drastically cut back the Gulag system, and in 1960, Khrushchev abolished its remnants. Thus, even if the sets of the fifties and sixties could have been manufactured in a Gulag, those of the sixties could not have been. Beyond this, I simply could neither corroborate nor refute Alan’s claim.
Still, I kept searching Gulag databases and secondary sources without finding a link between Valdai and the Gulags. As I often do, I discussed the issue with my friend Sergey Kovalenko of St. Petersburg. Sergey is a well-respected chess collector, skilled carver, and denizen of Russian and Soviet archives. He regularly discusses historical issues and shares archival research with me and others. Like me, Sergey was intrigued by Alan’s claim. Like me, he could neither confirm nor refute it.
Sergey agreed with Alan’s claim that the Nobles sets were manufactured by the Valdai Regional Industrial Manufactory in Novgorod. This was evidenced by cardboard boxes like Alan’s bearing the producer’s name, Валдайский Райпромкомбинат, or Valdai Raipromkompromat, meaning Valdai Regional Industrial Plant. Unlike Alan, however, I do not equate the term Village with Gulag, and am unaware of any etymological or historical reason for doing so.
Valdai Regional Industrial Plant stamp on a cardboard box containing a Nobles set. Courtesy Sergey Kovalenko.
Nearest Gulag Camp Dug Missile Silos
Perhaps the most comprehensive online Gulag databases are maintained by Gulagmap.ru and Gulag.cz. These sites compile data on individual camps, with detailed information about each taken from the primary Russian language source, Система исправительно-трудовых лагерей в СССР(System of Forced Labour Camps in the USSR [M. B. Smirnov, comp. 1998]) and other archival material. These online databases provide interactive maps of Gulag camp administrations as interfaces. Neither lists any camp in Valdai, Novgorod Oblast.
Late 1940s Valdai Nobles set. Note the slab knights. Source: Sergey Kovalenko.
Nor does the print version of Smirnov’s encyclopedia of Gulag camps. The camp nearest to Valdai was named EM ITL. It was located about 22 kilometers from Valdai near Dubrovets and engaged primarily in the construction of missile silos. Sergey provided the following map illustrating the location of ITL EM in relation to Valdai (Валдай), Novgorod Oblast.
Leningrad the upper left. Moscow on M10 to the right. Courtesy Sergey Kovalenko.
ITL “EM” was formed on January 10, 1951 and operated until May 14, 1953, when it was reorganized into the Dubogorskoye LO. The camp administration was located in the area of the Dvorets station of the Kalinin railway. In operational command, it was initially subordinated to the Main Directorate of Industrial Construction Camps, but shortly before the camp’s reorganization, it came under the jurisdiction of the GULAG of the Ministry of Justice. The maximum number of prisoners held here was recorded in 1953 and amounted to 2,062 people.
ITL “EM” was engaged in the construction of defense facilities. In April 1952, the construction was assigned the first category of secrecy, and prisoners could be sent to this camp only with the permission of the Ministry of State Security…
According to sources, prisoners of the ITL “EM” were engaged in the construction of a coal mine and the maintenance of Construction 714, as well as the excavation of shafts and tunnels. In reality, the camp’s task was the construction of missile silos. The labor of prisoners of the ITL “EM” was also used to build locomotive and diesel power plants.
Likewise, Avraham Shifrin’s The First Guidebook to Prisons and Concentration Camps of the Soviet Union (1982) makes no mention of a Gulag camp in Valdai. At 276-277, 389. Nor does Anne Applebaum’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Gulag: A History (2003). At 676.
Post-Gulag Prison Colony ITK-4
Sergey accessed the Novgorod Online Archives and made an intriguing discovery. He discovered a link between the Valdai Industrial Plant and the post-Gulag Soviet correctional system, if not with the Gulag system itself. According to the Novgorod Archives, on 1 June 1957, various assets in and around Valdai were transferred to the Department of Internal Affairs (MVD), among them the Valdai District Industrial Plant, the woodworking shop of the Valdai Mechanical Plant, and the Timber Plant of the Novgorod City Industrial Plant.
According to records Sergey found, the woodworking shops and other assets were transferred to a newly organized correctional and labor colony in Valdai, Novgorod Oblast, designated ITK-4, or Labor Colony 4, and OYA-22/4. The MVD received funds to construct housing and other structures in Valdai and the nearby town of Myza to accommodate 700-800 male prisoners. V. M. Skoryukov was appointed Deputy Chief of ITK-4 for Production. When prisoners began arriving in October of 1957, they worked in two lathe, furniture and plywood workshops, and a forest in a nearby village.
It is essential to situate ITK-4 in the history of the Gulag system. According to a recently declassified 1951 CIA report, two kinds of labor facilities operated within the Gulag system. ITLs–Labor Camps–were established in remote regions and housed prisoners with sentences of two years or greater. By contrast, ITKs–Labor Colonies–typically housed petty criminals in each oblast.
Even before Stalin’s death, MVD Minister Laventry Beria and his deputy Stepan Mamulov proposed to drastically cut back and replace the Gulag system. Stalin died in March 1953. While his corpse was still warm, Beria began to dismantle the Gulags, issuing a general amnesty that led to the release of 1.5 million prisoners–60% of the Gulag population–over the next three months. Aleksei Tikhonov, The End of the Gulag, in The Economics of Forced Labor: The Gulag (P. Gregory and V. Lazarev eds., 2003) at 67-73. Anne Applebaum writes:
As Khrushchev had feared, Beria, who was barely able to contain his glee at the sight of Stalin’s corpse, did indeed take power, and began making changes with astonishing speed. On March 6, before Stalin had even been buried, Beria announced a reorganization of the secret police. He instructed its boss to hand over responsibility for the Gulag to the Ministry of Justice, keeping only the special camps for politicals within the jurisdiction of the MVD. He transferred many of the Gulag’s enterprises over to other ministries, whether forestry, mining, or manufacturing. On March 12, Beria also aborted more than twenty of the Gulag’s flagship projects, on the grounds that they did not “meet the needs of the national economy.” Work on the Great Turkmen Canal ground to a halt, as did work on the Volga–Ural Canal, the Volga–Baltic Canal, the dam on the lower Don, the port at Donetsk, and the tunnel to Sakhalin. The Road of Death, the Salekhard–Igarka Railway, was abandoned too, never to be finished.
Supra, at 478.
In 1955, the GUITK (Glavnoye Upravleniye Ispravitelno-Trudovykh Kolony), or Chief Administration of Corrective Labor Colonies, was established within the MVD to administer the post-Gulag correctional system. After Khrushchev gave his famous speech denouncing Stalin in February 1956, the dismantling of the Gulags accelerated. Appleman writes:
In the months that followed the secret speech, the MVD also prepared to make much deeper changes to the structure of the camps themselves. In April, the new Interior Minister, N. P. Dudorov, sent a proposal for the reorganization of the camps to the Central Committee. The situation in the camps and colonies, he wrote, “has been abysmal for many years now.” They should be closed, he argued, and instead the most dangerous criminals should be sent to special, isolated prisons, in distant regions of the country, specifically naming the building site of the unfinished Salekhard–Igarka Railway as one such possibility. Minor criminals, on the other hand, should remain in their native regions, serving out their sentences in prison “colonies,” doing light industrial labor and working on collective farms. None should be required to work as lumberjacks, miners, or builders, or indeed to carry out any other type of unskilled, hard labor.
Dudorov’s choice of language was more important than his specific suggestions. He was not merely proposing the creation of a smaller camp system; he was proposing to create a qualitatively different one, to return to a “normal” prison system, or at least to a prison system which would be recognizable as such in other European countries. The new prison colonies would stop pretending to be financially self-sufficient. Prisoners would work in order to learn useful skills, not in order to enrich the state. The aim of prisoners’ work would be rehabilitation, not profit.
Supra, at 509.
By 1957, GUITK became primarily responsible for operating and administering that system. It was within the post-Gulag framework Dudorov described that Valdai’s ITK-4 went operational.
Another Valdai and Segezhlag
Sergey did find some connection between a Valdai and the Gulags, but it was a different Valdai, one located in the Segezha District of Karelia, almost 900 km north of its namesake in Novgorod Oblast. This Valdai lies within the same Segezha District as a Gulag camp known as Сегежский ITL, or Segezhlag, but across from it on Lake Vygozero and 132 km distant by road. This Valdai was founded in the early 1930s to aid in constructing the White Sea-Baltic Canal with Gulag labor.
Valdai and Segezha, Segezha District, Karelia. Source: Google Maps
Segezhlag was organized in 1939. According to gulagmap.ru:
The Segezha Corrective Labor Camp was organized no later than October 21, 1939, on the basis of the 4th camp division of the White Sea-Baltic Corrective Labor Camp and operated until June 28, 1941. The camp administration was located in the Karelo-Finnish SSR, in the area of the Segezha station of the Kirov Railway. Initially, the camp was subordinate to the GULAG, but from February 1941 it came under the jurisdiction of the Main Directorate of Industrial Construction Camps (GULPS). Up to 7,951 prisoners were held here…
The labor of the prisoners of the Segezha camp was used for the construction of the Segezha timber and paper plant, the Segezha hydrolysis plant (since November 1940), the Kondopoga sulfite-alcohol plant (since March 1941), for servicing the first stage of the timber and paper plant, as well as sawmills, foam concrete, concrete, asphalt plants, a concrete products plant, for the construction of railways and dirt roads, residential and utility facilities, and agricultural work.
See also Smirnov, supra, at 390.
There is no record of chess set production at Segezhlag. While the Gulag camp there closed in 1941, Penal Colony No. 7 continues to operate there.
Conclusion
The Nobles chess sets of Valdai were not made in a Gulag, but in the woodworking shops of the Valdai District Industrial Plant. Prisoners of the Gulag camp nearest the chess-producing Valdai dug missile silos, but did not turn chess pieces or carve knights. Ironically, a different Valdai was associated with a Gulag camp, Segezhlag. But this camp had nothing to do with the production of chess sets either.
After 1957, however, sets were made by forced labor within ITK-4 of the Soviet prison system, confirming a key component of Alan’s initial claim concerning these sets. Still, the change in penal regimes was not a distinction without a difference, a mere “changing of the uniforms,” to borrow a phrase from Budapest’s House of Terror Museum. If we were to equate the two different penal regimes, we would unfairly diminish one of the most immediate and significant consequences of Stalin’s death–the abolition of the Gulag system, the release and rehabilitation of millions who had unjustly suffered under its iron hand, the reconfiguration of penal institutions, and all the social dislocation that attended the Gulag’s demise.
Many thanks to Sergey Kovalenko and the reference librarians at the Bedford, NH Public Library.
The history of checkers paralleled that of chess in the Soviet Union. Both games had been played for centuries, despite suffering the disapprobation of the Orthodox Church. Both were incorporated into the Soviet state’s political program to elevate and enrich the cultural level of the masses.
According to the Russian Checkers Federation, “games similar to modern Russian checkers were known to the Eastern Slavs as early as the 4th century, as indicated by numerous artifacts from archaeological excavations. References to checkers (or ‘tavleys,’ as this game was previously called in Rus) are found in some epics and other written evidence from that time.” https://shashki.ru/variations/draughts64/ During the reign of Peter I (1682-1725), checkers became popular. The first article about checkers appeared in 1803. https://www.sports.ru/others/blogs/2699763.html
Official rules were printed in 1884, and the first Russian championship was held a decade later, with the second, third, and fourth All-Russian championships played in 1895, 1898 and 1901 respectively. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_draughts A magazine dedicated to the game began publication in 1897. According to Russian author Maria Selenkova, by checkers had become popular, with skilled players emerging in various neighborhoods, playing in matches and and informal tournaments, and sharing their knowledge with the younger generation. https://www.sports.ru/others/blogs/2699763.html
1950s Soviet checkers set. The folding board is familiar to collectors of Soviet chess sets. Nikolai Filatov photo.
Like chess, the Russian game is played on a board with eight rows and eight ranks, the former designated by letters a-h and the latter numbers 1-8, the algebraic system familiar to modern chess players. The rules are similar to the game played in the United States, except that all pieces may capture forward or backward. Soviet players competed internationally, playing the 10 x 10 square version of draughts. Competitive games are timed, using chess clocks, and recorded using algebraic notation. Competitive players are rated using an Elo system. https://shashki.ru/federation/
IX USSR Women’s Checkers Championship. Latvian Johanna Cine (right) congratulates Leningrader Iraida Spasskaya on her victory. Note the 8 x 8 board, the Jantar chess clock, and the scoresheets. https://www.sports.ru/others/blogs/2699763.html
During the early 20th century, checkers attracted a diverse demographic, including soldiers, workers, and traders. The game’s popularity continued to grow following the revolution, as the new government recognized the public’s interest in checkers, viewing it as a more dynamic and simpler alternative to chess.
Like chess, checkers was taken very seriously in the USSR was actively promoted by the Soviet state. In August 1924, the All-Union Chess and Checkers Section was established. Bolshevik and state prosecutor Nikolai Krylenko presided over the section. Under the section’s auspices the first USSR checkers championship was played the same year.
Krylenko spoke of the games jointly as the “chess and checkers movement.” He wrote:
Ever since the conception of our organization, we have our slogan, Chess and Checkers into the Working Masses. We came up with this slogan to combat the theory that chess is pure art, the theory that chess is just art for art’s sake. The struggle for masses, the struggle for introduction of chess and checkers to the masses as a weapon of the cultural revolution – this is our first slogan, which we carry out ever since our organization was born.
“Chess and Checkers to the Masses!” Soviet Uzbek poster. Soviet Visuals photo.
The comrades who read our political literature, our specialized chess and checkers literature, knew clearly that if we wanted to make our movement, firstly, proletarian, and secondly, truly widespread, then the conclusion should have been obvious: a mass movement, a working-class movement is ought to be a political movement. It’s plainly impossible for the working masses, who every day take active part in the country’s political life, who every day, every hour are involved in their country’s international and internal policy – for those working masses, when they study chess and checkers in clubs, or at home, or wherever, to cease being what they are: being political activists and builders of their own state, arbiters of their country’s destiny.
In our epoch, the slogan “Chess and checkers to the masses as a weapon of cultural revolution” has been expanded: “Imbue chess and checkers with political content, make our chess and checkers players into political workers, conscientious fighters, conscientious participants of socialistic building.
1938 Poster for Tula Chess and Checkers Competitions. Designer unknown. Antikbar Original Vintage Posters photo.
The issue of imbuing chess/checkers organizations with politics should be understood in this way: from some, we should demand that they, being organizers, being administrators, being responsible for political issues, pay much attention to political work; and we should get the others more involved in political life, make then conscientious participants of socialistic building.
I can cite a number of examples. Let’s look at the question of chess/checkers organizations’ participation in udarnik movement and socialistic competition. When you demand that the workers of this factory or that, in addition to being members of chess/checkers team, be udarniks and set high goals for themselves in socialistic competitions, as stevedores of the Lower Volga do – the checkers-playing and chess-playing stevedores – this is the way to couple cultural work with general political work, this is political work.
And there’s another form, which we can demand from more mature members of our organization – from administrators, from organizers. We measure the level of fitness for our chess/checkers work not just by purely chess/checkers talent and ability, but also by the ability to perform political and organizational work and the level of clear understanding of general political issues in our life and the imbuing of chess/checkers organizations’ work with political content.”
“In a Soviet factory lounge” 1930 [MAMM] Courtesy Sarah Beth Cohen
According to chess historian Terje Kristiansen, the above photo likely depicts “the so-called Lenin’s corner (aka Lenin’s room, Red Corner, the center of culture). Most factories and institutions had one, where pupils, students or workers met to read, chat, and play chess.” Kristiansen asked a Ukrainian-Russian friend and his Russian girlfriend about the photo. Both are now in their seventies, and are familiar with the history of chess in the Union. He shared their thoughts:
[The photo] captures the moment of the women’s chess and checkers circle. True, judging by the postures of women, by the expression of their faces and during the game on the checkerboards, the whole photo looks like a staged one (or women are just learning to play checkers and chess). You cannot see the enthusiasm and focus on the faces of the players. The two men in military uniform in the background are unlikely to be security guards. And what are they to protect here? This is clearly not a prison or a colony. Most likely, these are either the leaders of the circle, or the administrative workers of the institution (possibly the workers’ Club). In those years, many men, especially those who went through military operations, wore out military clothes (they simply did not have another). But, despite the staged plot of the photograph, I believe that it reflects the reality of that time.
A women’s championship was held in Leningrad in 1936. The next year, the section published a “Unified Checkers Code of the USSR,” providing a comprehensive set of rules for both Russian checkers (8 x 8 squares) and international checkers (10 x 10 squares).
Checkers tournaments were held all over the Union, often in conjunction with chess tournaments. Here are several posters advertising such events.
1930s poster for Tula chess and checkers competitions. Designer unknown. Poster Connections photo.
1930s ad for a Chess and Checkers tournament held by the Kaluga Regional Council of Physical Education. Match between Moscow and Kaluga. Designer unknown.
Promoted and funded by the state, the number of Soviet checkers players in the Soviet Union surpassed 100,000 by the time of the fascist invasion, rising to 1.2 million by 1960. In fact, Selenkova claims that checkers temporarily surpassed chess in popularity after the Great Patriotic War, only to fall behind again following Mikhail Botvinnik’s ascension to World Chess Champion in 1948. https://www.sports.ru/others/blogs/2699763.html
One way the Soviet state promoted chess and checkers was by publishing periodicals about them, reporting on events and presenting annotated games of instructional value. As important a chess publication as 64 carried a regular section for checkers. Here is an example:
64 No 8, 1933. “Chess and Checkers for the Masses.” Pixstock photo.
Pixstock photo.
Pixstock photo.
In the early 1950s, chess and checkers formed separate sections. By the end of the decade, checkers had developed its own federation. The USSR gained its first world champion in checkers, Iser Kuperman, in 1958. Of course, the 10 x 10 international version was played.
Iser Kuperman (R) (1922-2006). Somov/Sputnik photo (12 June 1963),
Checkers had several advantages over chess as a means of cultural enrichment. It was a much simpler game. It could be learned and played more quickly. Vodka consumption would not degrade the level of play to the same extent as in chess. While it was played on the same 8 x 8 boards as chess, the pieces were much simpler to produce, and therefore much cheaper and affordable.
Makers of chess sets also manufactured checkers equipment. Here is a listing in the 1936 Moscow Directory for the well-known manufacturer of chess equipment, Artel Kultsport. Kultsport also advertised the sale of checkers (“шашки”) equipment.
Checkers are much simpler in design than chess pieces, and accordingly are simpler and cheaper to produce. Earlier checkers were made of wood. In the fifties, plastic pieces appeared, and soon became common.
Whereas chess pieces are not susceptible to over political messaging, checkers were not so limited. It was not uncommon for them to contain Agiprop messaging, thereby undertaking the political purpose Krylenko envisioned. A case in point is this set from the 1920s.
1920s Agitational Checkers. Russia Chess House photo.
According to Russia Chess House,
The figures depict a sickle and hammer, a star, and also a flag with the inscription “Proletarians of all countries unite”[They] are an example of agitational art of the pre-war Soviet period. There was a propaganda plan, according to which the symbols of the new government should be placed everywhere. Even matchboxes and plates had to tell the people about the accomplishments of the revolution. Utilitarian and decorative objects were to be accompanied by revolutionary slogans.”
Some checkers contained political symbols without political slogans. Here is an example from the 1940s, where the Soviet five-point star is embossed on the wooden checkers. In Soviet heraldry, the five-point star is the symbol of the Red Army. By one account, this came about through an exchange between Krylenko and Leon Trotsky.
Another claimed origin for the red star relates to an alleged encounter between Leon Trotsky and Nikolai Krylenko. Krylenko, an Esperantist, wore a green-star lapel badge; Trotsky inquired as to its meaning and received an explanation that each arm of the star represented one of the five traditional continents. On hearing that, Trotsky specified that soldiers of the Red Army should wear a similar red star.
1950s Soviet checkers. Wood, with a dove of peace embossed on the front sides. Nikolai Filatov photo.
Not all the political icons carried by checkers were so bellicose. For example, these checkers (above) of the 1950s were embossed with the dove of peace. And the Bakelite checkers (below) celebrated the 1980 Moscow Olympics, which bore images of the different areas of competition.
AntiqueEmbassy photo.
Conclusion
As it did with chess, the Soviet state promoted checkers as part of its program to elevate the cultural level of the masses and to parlay the game into a means of political organizing.
Andrei Nikolaevich Hardin (1842-1910) was a Russian lawyer and chess player. He was born and lived in Samara.
According to Alexandr Yanushvesky:
Andrei Nikolaevich Hardin was passionately fond of chess. He subscribed to a great deal of foreign chess literature and could sit alone at the board for hours. According to him, he learned to play well because, having found himself somewhere in the wilderness and having a lot of free time, he would sit for days reading chess literature and studying the theory of this game. For about a year or a little more, he did not play with anyone, and after this sitting, having met Chigorin, he showed himself to be a first-class player.
Hardin came to play correspondence chess with one Vladimir Ilych Lenin, who became Hardin’s law clerk when Lenin moved to Samara. They continued playing chess, with Samara giving Lenin various odds.
Two photos of Hardin taken with a chess set are known.
While Hardin’s garb suggests that these photos were taken at different times, they most certainly appear to feature the same set and the same location. Perhaps it was Hardin’s apartment in Samara, where he played Lenin. Indeed, it well may have been the very set that he and Lenin played with.
Hardin’s set is a smaller version of what we have come to know as the “Alekhine Set,” a moniker attached to it by Singapore collector Steven Kong, who acquired it from a dealer in St. Petersburg, Russia. The set now resides in my collection.
The set is tall and heavy, finely turned, carved, and finished . The pieces have a large height to base width ratio, but their weight keeps them stable in play. The king is five inches tall with a bulging crown characteristic of Tsarist sets and reminiscent of Austrian onion top sets. The queen’s coronet eschews sharp points, protecting it from damage during the rigors of play. The bishop’s miter is unique, the cut splitting it into two equal halves. The knight’s mane flows with detail, and its features are carefully carved. The rook’s turret is exaggerated, its merlons tall and distinctly cut.
A magnificent set. A jewel. Of the finest craftsmanship a Tsarist workshop could be expected to provide.
A wonderful essay authored by Alan Power, master of artistic chess set restoration and owner of the Chess Schach. Please click the link to read Alan’s highly informative article.
“For a reader living in the free world the word “thief” perhaps sounds like a reproach? But you misunderstand the term. In the underworld of the …
We often see a particular style of Soviet set described as “Latvian” and as “Tal’s favorite.” Although neither claim is supported by the current state of research, both contribute to ongoing misunderstanding of the set’s origin and significance.
According to Merriam-Webster.com, an Urban Legend is anoften lurid story or anecdote that is based on hearsay and widely circulated as true. While there no doubt are lurid details about the life and times of Mikhail Tal, none are known to be associated with these pieces.
Title Page to Arlindo Vieira, Chess Sets–Russian Soviet (2012).
Both claims originate from slides appearing in Arlindo Vieira’s seminal 2012 video on Soviet and Russian chess sets and associated test in his blog Xadrez Memoria. The set appearing in the banner is the one from his collection that he claims to be Latvian. The claim that the set is Latvian arises from a slide in which Arlindo proclaims that “I call this set Latvian” and the other from a slide in which he declares that “He [Tal] loved these pieces!” The first claim rests on a questionable inference; and the basis for collectors repeating either claim is little more than hearsay.
Urban Legend 1: “These Pieces Are Latvian”
Here is the slide that collectors are ultimately relying upon when they claim that sets like Vieira’s are Latvian.
Vieira 2012 Video.
When collectors and dealers claim pieces like these are “Latvian,” they are knowingly or unwittingly referring to this slide, rather than first hand information or research actually linking the sets to Latvia. They are repeating Arlindo’s designation for the truth of the matter asserted–that they’re Latvian– making the statement relied upon hearsay.
A more defensible claim might be: “I believe this set to be Latvian and I am relying on Arlindo’s expert opinion in doing so.” If we consider Arlindo as an expert witness, as I do, we are entitled to inquire into the basis of his opinion. He lays that out in this very slide–the set was popular in Latvia, as evidenced by the many photos he found of like sets being used in Latvian events. His conclusion that the set is Latvian rests on the proposition that a set’s place of origin can be inferred from the frequency with which we find photos of players using it there. As he explains in his blog, Xadrez Memoria:
I have noticed through photos that certain games were used more frequently in the former Baltic Republics, and less, much less in tournaments in the capital or Leningrad, just to give an example. This is the case with these pieces of mine, which curiously appear in dozens and dozens of photos related to Latvian schools, tournaments and players. In fact, curiosity or not, even today at Ebay auctions, when these pieces appear, the sellers are mostly from Latvia, just like the one who sold me the pieces shown here.
On its face, this seems fairly reasonable, but the more we parse it, the less reasonable it becomes. If frequency of appearance in photos and Ebay auctions implies place of origin, what happens when photos of sets used in different venues appear? Or more sets are sold by vendors in Ukraine? The most reasonable response would be to say that the set more likely comes from the place from which the most photos and sales of it arise. We have no idea of how representative his photos and Ebay vendors are. What if, notwithstanding the photos Arlindo examined, more of the sets actually were used in Moscow. Does that make it a Moscow set? Or perhaps there actually are more photos of the set being used in Leningrad, which he missed in his review? Is it now a Leningrad set? My point is that it is not inherently reasonable to definitively infer the origin of the set from a handful of photos without considering how representative the photos are of all photos of Soviet sets in all locations. We just don’t know from the evidence presented in Arlindo’s video and website. But I think it’s fair to say that since 2012, we have examined more photos of Soviet sets in use than Arlindo did or could access back then.
I think the best way to understand Arlindo’s statement “I called this set Latvian!” is as an hypothesis, rather than a firm conclusion. He called it “Latvian” based on photos and Ebay listings he found. It’s reasonable to form an hypothesis based on such limited research. But like every other hypothesis, its validity is subject to being tested by the collection and analysis.
Since 2012, a great deal of data has been uncovered that overwhelmingly indicate that sets of this basic design were made in many places, but not one of them is Latvia. We find evidence of them having been made in a children’s penal colony in Siberia, in Gulags in Mordovia, artels in Khalturin and Ivanovo, and in state factories in Ivanovo and Semenov. We owe a debt of gratitude to Vladimir Volkhov for his research into the sources of production, reported in his wonderful blog, Retrorussia. And this evidence consists of much more direct evidence than photos of use. It comprises stamps and labels identifying places of origin on and in the boxes containing the actual pieces. This is hard evidence, allowing far stronger inferences than could be made in 2012 in the absence of such a rich record.
This all, of course, begs the question as to what these sets should be called. Vladimir’s solution is to adopt Russian collectors’ practice of naming sets by where they were made. So sets made in Mordovia would be called Mordovian; those in Khalturin, Khalturiskie; those in Semenov, Semenovskie; those in Ivanovo, Ob’edovskie, for the village in Ivanovo Region where the production facilities were located. I think this is a very important part of the naming solution. It incorporates and honors local practice, and ties sets to locations where they actually originated.
But I have two problems with adopting this convention as a total resolution to the naming issue. The first is that it completely ignores the important issue of style. It cannot be disputed that the “Latvian” sets from Berezovsky, Mordovia, Khalturin, Semenov, and Ivanovo are the same general style. That is an important observation, as it indicates design notions and practices transcended localities and regions, and ignoring it leaves important chapters of the story unwritten.
The second problem is that the location convention creates as much confusion as it eliminates. Take the Khalturin example. Many different styles of chess pieces were manufactured there. Under the location convention all of them would bear the same name, and we never could distinguish one from the other in writing without attaching a picture to clarify which one we were talking about. I find that unacceptable.
Everyday pieces from Artel in Ivanovo Region. Images posted by John Moyes in SK, 9 August 2022.
Ultimately, we need to accept a naming convention that recognizes both style and place of manufacture. And I would include a date, because pieces made in the same style in the same place could vary over time in some significant details. But, then, what should we call this not very Latvian design? I would be comfortable calling the style Berezovsky, in homage to the children of the Gulag who apparently first made them. I also would be comfortable calling them Everyday, in accordance with the category John Moyes found on the label of a set from Ivanov. I like two things about this option. First, it is homage to the Soviet practice of calling consumer items, including sets, by the category of intended use. Second, sets in this style were ubiquitous, truly the everyday sets of many Soviet households. Until we reach some consensus on this, I probably will continue to call the style Mordovian, as I find it the most beautiful iteration of this venerable style.
Urban Legend 2: “Tal’s Favorite Set!”
This one is a real whopper.
“Tal’s favorite set.” Mein Gott im Himmel, how do you know that?
I’ve never seen a collector or dealer asserting this claim to state his or her basis for making it, myself included. One hypothetically might have first hand knowledge: “I knew Tal, and Tal told me it was his favorite set”; or “I watched Tal play and every time he chose the set he chose this one”; or “I listened to Tal give an interview to a Filipino Grandmaster and he said it was his favorite set and that he was the victim of vast international conspiracies.” Wait, that was Fischer. Or, “I read such and such by Tal and he wrote that it was his favorite set.” Or one might have evidence from which one might infer it was his favorite, like multiple photos of Tal using the set in his residence or hotel rooms, or sitting over his mantle or displayed on a shelf.
But no, “Tal’s favorite!” is the claim, without further evidence, only a wink and a nod as if to say the claimant has some special inside information and insight into the Magician of Riga, or belongs to an exclusive club of those who do. I’ve done it myself. Hogwash.
All these claims of special insight into the predilections of one of the world’s most popular champions arise from a single slide in Arlindo’s 2012 video, which his blog does not elaborate:
Vieira 2012 video.
Arlindo’s slide doesn’t even SAY it was “Tal’s favorite.” We all leapt to that specious conclusion ourselves. I’d now characterize Arlindo’s statement as an excited utterance, expressing joy that the pieces could be connected to the charismatic Tal. But it’s not credible evidence that the set was “Tal’s favorite.” All us cognoscenti who imply we have have inside information about Tal’s preferred set, we need to present our evidence, or we need to stop repeating a baseless claim.
We know that “Staunton” chessmen were sold in Tsarist Russia in the second half of the 19th Century. Here, for example, is an ad from Mikhail Tchigorin’s chess journal, Shakhmatniy Vestik, in 1885, for “Turner Teich,” with a St. Petersburg street address.
Teich was a wood turner located at 20 Nevsky Avenue in St. Petersburg. It was operating as early as 1885, but its exact dates of operation are not known. In 1885, Teich offered Staunton style chessmen in large and small sizes, with and without lead weights. They marketed them as “sophisticated” and reminded customers that such pieces were available “only at Turner Teich. Unfortunately, the ad contains no photos or sketches of the pieces, so we are left to wonder what they looked like.
The photographic record is sparse. Lenin’s set is on display in the Museum of the Revolution, and photos of it can be found, but it is unclear that it is of Tsarist, as opposed to English, or German, or some other origin. Lenin reportedly played with it in Leipzig in 1912.
All of these sets arguably are “Staunton” designs, broadly construed.
In doing some research on sets of Ancient Rus in Isaak Linder’s The Art of Chess (1994), I came across a photo of a set he identifies as coming from St. Petersburg in the late 1800s. It literally has been hiding in plain sight.
Linder, op cit. at 256.
These pieces are unquestionably Staunton, even by the strictest definition. The royals and clerics have the “three collar” structure typical of Jaques and other English Staunton pieces. The king’s crown is topped by a cross. The queen wears a distinct coronet. The bishop’s miter is cut. The knight has the S-shaped Staunton shape, and its ears are pinned back as in Jaques and other English Staunton knights. The rook’s turret contains distinct merlons. The bases step up to the stems, which rise to a near perpendicular joint with the pedestals. The pieces appear to have a high quality finish, and even bear stamping on the king’s base reminiscent of the Jaques practice. Unfortunately, as of this writing, neither Sergey Kovalenko nor I could find any further information on the Heitz Company of St. Petersburg.
Sergey, however, has enlarged and enhanced the king’s base inscription in Linder’s photo.
Sergey Kovalenko’s Enhancement of Linder’s Photo.
The right word translates to “St. Petersburg.” The left word is incomplete. It appears to say, “…ичъ (еичъ).” Sergey suggests that in its entirety it could read “Токарь Теичъ,” the same Turner Teich of Tchigorin’s 1885 journal ad. I think this is an eminently reasonable inference. What the relationship is between Turner Teich and the “Heitz Company” Linder references remains to be established. Sergey suggests it could be nothing more than a mistaken transliteration by Linder.
Hopefully more images of Tsarist Staunton sets will emerge. Perhaps new information will come to light to help us verify sets we claim or suspect to be Tsarist that will allow us to confirm their Tsarist origins. Better still, we look forward to the emergence of more sets—Staunton and otherwise—verifiably from the late Tsarist period.
Perhaps our favorite way to date Soviet chess sets is to find them in photos that can be reliably dated, a methodology that gives us a “no later than” date to the pictured set. Sometimes, however, sets come with information on accompanying boxes that allows us to reasonably estimate their age. So it is with a fascinating set that was offered for sale by Ukrainian vendor Igor Grechyshki on EBay and Etsy. (It was sold shortly after I posted this article.) The set gives us a rare glimpse of pieces of the 1920s, a period for which there is a relatively sparse photographic record.
Igor Grechyshki photo.
The set comprises 32 weighted wooden pieces in red and black armies, with kings 95mm tall. The pieces are housed in a typical Soviet board/box, which bears an engraved plaque.
Igor Grechyshki photo.
As translated by Igor, the plaque reads as follows: To the participant in the tournament of winners the second prize-winner M.F. Dukalov 1.12.26. Tournament Committee. The maker of the set is unknown, and the style is as yet unnamed. I’ll refer to it as Dukalov’s Set, in homage to the player who took second place in the tournament. Its significance lies in that it’s one of only a handful of Soviet sets we can reasonably date to the 1920s.
Igor Grechyshki photo.
Weighted with lead and of good size, the pieces are of tournament quality. Stylistically, they exhibit Staunton, Soviet, and Modernist elements. The relative sizes of the pieces, proportions of height to base diameter, piece signifiers, “triple collar” structure, step-up base, and proportion of piece signifier to set signifier (base and stem) comport with Staunton norms.
Igor Grechyshki photo.Igor Grechyshki photo.
The CV shape of the knight is typically Soviet. The secularized, cut-less bishop miters and cross-less king finials are characteristically Soviet while also reflecting the abstract Muslim influences Linder has documented on the pieces of Ancient Rus. These influences persisted centuries longer than they did in the West, as the modernized game did not reach Russia until the rule of Peter the Great, c. 1760. The mildly dendriformic shapes of the stems reflects Modernist influences we’ve discussed earlier with respect to the Smyslov design, which also appeared in the 1920s. The continuous flow of the stem into the pedestal that supports the piece signifiers of the royals, clerics, and pawns is another Modernist influence that we’ve explored in relation to the Botvinnik-Flohr II design, which first appeared in 1934.
According to Igor, a native of Kharkov:
The tournament was held in the building of the State Trust for Coal Mining and Sales, located in Kharkov (former Ukrainian SSR, now Ukraine). In October 1929, the reorganization of the trust began, culminating in its liquidation in January 1930. The building, built for the trust in 1925, combines the features of Art Nouveau and constructivism, which were so popular in Kharkov in the 20-30s. last century. The facade is decorated with two figures of miners by the famous Ukrainian, Soviet sculptor, film and theater director, playwright, screenwriter I. Kavaleridze.
The building is pictured below.
Source: Igor Grechyshki.
While I could find nothing m0re on M.F. Dukalov the chess player, a Google search revealed an M. F. Dukalov to have co-authored several works on mining and related to a mining and timbering institute located in Kharkov in a set of scientific abstracts compiled by the American Central Intelligence Agency and declassified in 2000.
Many thanks to Igor for bringing this wonderful set of the 1920s to our attention, for his research, and for his permission to cite it and to re-post his photographs.
The Second and Third Moscow International Tournaments of 1935 and 1936 were the second and third major Soviet events to use the iconic Botvinnik-Flohr II design, the history of which we have chronicled here. The first event in which pieces of this design were used was the 1934 Leningrad Masters Tournament. The significance of the 1935 event is discussed here.
At least two different styles of knights are evident in photos from the 1935 event. Most well-known is the knight shown in this famous photo of Capablanca.
Capablanca at the 1935 Second Moscow International Tournament. Sergei Korshunov photo.
Here is a close-up of Capablanca’s knight. For the sake of discussion, I’ll refer to it as the Capablanca Knight.
Capablanca Knight. Sergei Korshunov photo.
The Capablanca’s knight is turned slightly to the left of the line of the file, allowing us to glimpse both of the horse’s ears. The most evident distinguishing feature of the Capablanca Knight is the ear placement rising vertically from the arc of the back. It also has protruding eye sockets, forward-facing eyes, and a relatively short snout. St. Petersburg collector and artisan Sergey Kovalenko has described its face as a “bear.” Here is an example from my collection.
Chuck Grau Collection, photo.
But a second type of knight appears in photos of Vera Menchick from the 1935 event.
Vera Menchick, Moscow 1935. Photographer unknown. Higher-resolution photo courtesy of Sergey Kovalenko.
Two knights appear in this photo: Menchick’s King Knight is on d7, and her Queen knight is on b8. The d7 knight exhibits a very different ear configuration and the Capablanca Knight. Whereas Capablanca’s knight’s ears protrude from the arc of the back, the ears of Menchick’s d7 knight organically continue the arc of the back. Menchick’s d7 knight appears to have the same large eye sockets and forward-facing eyes as Capablanca’s knight, but a longer snout; the knight on b8 appears to have a different facial configuration, with eyes more to the sides of the head. The ear configuration of Menchick’s d7 knight is not visible, though it is clear that the ears point forward, rather than to the sides, as they do in the 1950s Olympic versions of the BFII. For the sake of discussion, I am going to refer to two types of c. 1935 BFII knights: The “Capablanca Knight,” with the protruding ears; and the “Menchick Knight,” with the organic ears.
Here is a set I recently acquired. The kings, queens, bishops, rooks, and pawns have all the characteristics of the 1935 Moscow sets. I characterize the steeds as Menchick Knights because of the organic placement of the ears continuing the arc of the horse’s back.
Chuck Grau Collection, photo.
Here are the set’s knights.
Chuck Grau Collection, photo.
According to Moscow collector Alexander Chelnokov, some Russian and Ukrainian collectors refer to knights of this type as “Mongolian,” but inasmuch as this usage apparently does not derive from the set’s Mongolian ancestry or the historical occupation of Kievan Rus by the Mongols, I decline to adopt it because of its pejorative connotations in English and other languages.
That said, there may be a connection between the Mongols and the general form of the BFII and Baku knights, which according to Linder’s The Art of Chess Pieces (1994) first appeared in early 15th Century Novgorod. The Novgorodian artisan who carved Novgorod Knight no doubt was aware of the extent of Mongol control over Kievan Rus, and of tribute, trade and other dealings between Novgorod and the Mongols. It is plausible that the artisan’s knowledge of the Mongols, their horsemanship, and their horses somehow influenced the form he carved, but that remains little more than a hypothesis in want of further evidence.
Novgorod Knight. Source: Isaac Linder, The Art of Chess Pieces (1994).
A set similar to mine, but with the White pieces in red, resides in the collection of American collector Mike Ladzinski.
Mike Ladzinski Collection, photo.
The Menchick Knights appear to have been used in the 1935 game between Botvinnik and Flohr. Inasmuch as the design takes its name from these two giants of the chessboard and their first place tie at this historic event, perhaps they are the ultimate expression of the set used in that tournament.
Flohr and Botvinnik play at the 1935 Second Moscow International. Source: Krylenko & Rabinovich eds., Moscow 1935 Second International Tournament 177 (Caissa edition 1997).Close-up of the previous photo highlighting the Menchick Knights.
In a future article, we will explore the different variations of the BFII sets of the 1930s.
This is the chess of my childhood, proclaims Ukrainian collector and dealer Mykhailo Kovalenko. It is “the most common Ukrainian chess set… made of wood,” and was used in regional but not high level tournaments. SK 4 June 2020 & 14 April 2021, accessed 19 April 2023.
Sometimes called the Ukrainian Grandmaster pieces, perhaps the largest of all Soviet tournament sets were manufactured by the Bolekhavsky Timber Plant, part of the Carpathian Industrial Timber Association and Ministry of Forestry of Ukraine SSR.
Here is a specimen I recently acquired from Kyiv dealer and collector Nikolay Filatov of SovietChessUSSRGifts. The varnished natural and burnt sienna pieces arrived in excellent condition.
Chuck Grau photo.
The royals are notable for their verticality, proportionately large crowns, and their towering height height relative to the other pieces. “That king is a rocket ship!” exclaimed collector John Warth, “Or brings to mind Seattle’s Space Needle.” SK14 April 2021 (accessed 17 April 2023). The structure it brings to my mind is the famous Kyiv Television Tower, erected in 1973 in the image of an immense rocket. The king measures 13 cm, or over 5.1 inches, tall.
Like the royals’ crowns, the bishops’ miters also are proportionately oversized. The knights are simply cut. “The rooks are very odd,” according to collector John Moyes, “Like chimneys!”SK 19 May 2020, accessed 17 April 2023. They feature slender, tapered towers, with relatively small, ringed turrets. The pawns are immense, typically Soviet homage to the Dictatorship of the Proletariat. The pieces are unweighted. Because of the large bases, this is not a problem for any pieces other than the royals, whose great height to base width leaves them too easily toppled. Perhaps there is a metaphor lurking there as well.
Chuck Grau photo.
My set was accompanied by its original box, its factory label intact. The label is significant because it tells us when and where this set was made. Here is the label.
Chuck Grau photo.
According to a translation provided by the Nikolay Filatov, the box contains Шахматные Фигуры (“Chess Figures”), which were manufactured in 1985 by the Bolekhavsky Timber Plant, Carpathian Industrial Timber Association, Ministry of Forestry, Ukrainian SSR.
The factory was located in the small city of Bolekhiv in the southwestern Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast of Ukraine, 300 miles southwest of Kyiv and near the Carpathian mountains. Its population was approximately 10,000 as of 2022. At various times in its history it was part of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, the Kingdom of Poland, Austria-Hungary, the Russian Empire, the Soviet Union, and Ukraine. Its sizeable Jewish population was all but annihilated in World War II.
The pieces often are found together with wooden board boxes made in Rivne, Lviv, and Chernivtsi, Ukraine, according to Kovalenko. SK 19 May 2020, accessed 17 April 2023. Labels on such boards I’ve seen, however, reference only the board and not the pieces, suggesting to me that they were paired after production and not necessarily from the same plant. Here are two examples.
Left-Eduardo Bauza collection, photo; Right-Volodymyr Liuba collection, photo. SK 16 April 2023, accessed 19 April 2023.
Although the set was not used in high level tournaments, it did manage to find its way out of Ukraine SSR. Here is a photo of it in use in Turkestan, SSR.
Turkmenistan.gov.tm photo, courtesy of Jorge Njegovic Drndak.
I know of two other specimens that are associated with original labels for “Chess Figure” rather than “Chess Boards.” They are shown below. The set on the left at the time of this writing is being offered for sale by SovietchessUSSRGifts on Etsy. The set in the middle photo is from the collection of Eduardo Bauza. Its label is shown on the right. The labels establish that both sets originated from the Bolekhavsky Timber Plant.
Photos by Nick Filatov and Eduardo Bauza.
There are a number of variations to the Ukrainian Grandmaster design, as with other Soviet designs whose use spanned several decades. Without belaboring the details, the reader may observe some of them in this gallery of photos posted in the Facebook group Shakhmatnyye Kollektsionery.
Photos by Alan Power, Mykhailo Kovalenko, Eduardo Bauza, Michael Sherman, Nick Rizutti, and Schachkunst BL.
Whether these sets were all manufactured by the Bolekhavsky Timber Plant, with the variations coming over time, cannot be said on the basis of the existing record. It remains possible, as Mykhailo Kovalenko asserts, that they were manufactured in other sites as well. Perhaps specimens with labels linking the pieces themselves to other factories will emerge.
Soviet and Late Tsarist Chess Sets 
