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.
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.
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.
One of the more unique Soviet sets comprises “Bell-Bottom” pieces, named for the unusual shape of their bases. Here are photos of the c. 1930s specimen in my collection. It came to me in pristine condition.
Collector Sergey Kovalenko’s research suggests that the design originated in the Ukrainian city of Poltava, first produced by the Postyshev Children’s Commune there. Sergey located one set in the State Central Museum of Modern Russian History. Here is a photo of the box housing the Museum’s set.
Source: State Central Museum of Modern Russian History.
The box to my set also contains labels linking it to Poltava.
Chuck Grau Collection, photos.
The label references a Poltava artel named “Спорт и Культура” (“Sport and Culture”). The exterior of the box housing my set differs from the one found in the Russian museum.
Chuck Grau Collection, photo.
The Poltava artel’s name “Sport and Culture” is remarkably similar to the well-known Moscow Artel Kultsport. The relation between the two is a topic of future research. It may be that the Poltava artel was the organizational predecessor of the Moscow entity, or that they somehow were affiliated. There is little chance that the similarity in names is purely serendipitous, given the cultural importance of sport to Soviet society.
Poltava is located on the Vorskla River in northeast Ukraine. In 2013 it had a population of roughly 300,000. It first was settled in the seventh or eighth centuries. It long has been considered a center of Ukrainian national identity. Woodworking was among the region’s noted industries in the early 1900s.
While there are no known design records for this set, the pieces’ bell-shaped bases and integrated stems bear some resemblance to the domes of Poltava’s historic Exaltation of the Cross Monastery. Or perhaps the bell-shaped bases are homage to the monastery’s four-tiered bell tower, built in 1786 and housing at least ten bells, the largest of which weighs over 6.5 tons.
Poltava’s Exaltation of the Cross Monastery and Bell Tower. Source: Discover Ukraine.
The Postychev Children’s Commune and its relationship to the Sport and Culture artel are both in need of additional research. The name of the children’s commune hints of one of the darkest chapters of Soviet history, the Holodomor (death by starvation), resulting from Stalin’s policies of collectivizing agriculture and exporting grain from Ukraine SSR rather than using it to feed her people.
With no little irony, the children’s commune linked to this design seems to be named after Pavel Petrovich Postyshev, a Russian politician who Stalin dispatched to Ukraine in 1932 to overcome opposition to the collection of grain. His methods were brutal, earning him the epithet “the hangman of Ukraine,” and generating thousands of orphans, many of whom likely matriculated to children’s communes like that in Poltava. Ultimately, Stalin feared that Postyshev was building a rival power base, and had him arrested in 1938 and shot in 1939. Perhaps Postyshev’s fall from Stalin’s grace explains why subsequent versions of this set no longer bore his name.
The Poltava Bell-Bottom chess set is a beautiful design, possibly linked to Ukraine’s Orthodox architecture and one of the darkest chapters in Soviet history.
I recently posted photos of the 1935 Second Moscow International Tournament that were graciously provided by our friend Sergey Dubodel of Belarus. Sergey also provided some photos of the 1936 Third Moscow International Tournament, which I present here paired with historian Michael Hudson‘s account of the 1936 event and other relevant photos and images.
Like the 1935 Moscow International, the 1936 tournament used BFII chess pieces. Unlike the 1935 event, which was a single round robin, the 1936 affair was a double round robin. It was held in the Hall of Columns, the ballroom of Moscow’s House of Unions, and the site of Bukharin’s show trial in 1938.
Stamp depicting the House of Unions, where the 1936 Tournament was held. Both stamp photos are in the public domain.
“A few months after the Moscow 1935 event ended, Botvinnik (who had received a cash prize, an automobile, and a doubling of his post-graduate stipend for his efforts) began to petition Krylenko for another tournament. Botvinnik argued that Moscow 1935 was flawed by the inclusion of too many relatively weak players, which introduced an element of chance and made it difficult to judge the strength of the leading Soviet players. He proposed a smaller ‘match-tournament’ with five strong foreigners and the five strongest Soviet players. Krylenko was initially only lukewarm to the proposal. Selecting the five Soviet players would be difficult and divisive given his embarrassment of riches. More to the point, there was also the expense. Tournaments with Westerner participation required hard currency, which was always in short supply. But eventually Krylenko relented–swayed, perhaps, by an offer from the Central Committee of the Komsomol (the Party youth organization), where Botvinnik had powerful friends, to help with the funding. Significant Komsomol involvement in the Soviet chess organization, which dates from the middle 1930s, would eventually loosen the tight hold the Chess Section had on all aspects of Soviet chess.”
Botvinnik and Lasker. Drawn. Photographer unknown.
“The Third Moscow International Chess Tournament was held in the summer of 1936. The foreign contingent consisted of Lasker, Capablanca, Flohr, Lilienthal and the Austrian master, Erich Gottlieb Eliskases (1913-1997).”
Eliskases and Lasker. Lasker won. Photographer unknown.
“The younger Soviets were well represented by Botvinnik, Ragozin, Ryumin and Il’ia Abramovich Kan (1909-1978). Levenfish, alone, represented the old guard.”
Botvinnik and Flohr. They drew this game. Photographer unknown.Botvinnik and Flohr several moves later. Photographer unknown.
“The tournament quickly became a contest between Botvinnik and a resurgent Capablanca. Botvinnik claimed to have suffered from the heat and insomnia during the tournament; Capablanca, on the other hand, was inspired by love. He had just met the woman who would become his second wife, and he promised her he would regain the world title. Botvinnik lost to Capablanca in one of their games, and this turned out to be the margin of victory for Capablanca.”
Capablanca and Botvinnik. Capablanca won. Photographer unknown.
“Botvinnik finished one point behind Capablanca, while Flohr finished a distant third. The rest of the Soviet contingent, however, fared rather badly. Krylenko was only grudgingly satisfied with Botvinnik’s play, and he was not at all pleased with his other protégés. In his foreword to the tournament book, he took the Soviet players to task, insisting that the most immediate lesson of Moscow 1936 was that Soviet players needed to drop their conceit, study their games, and learn from their numerous mistakes.”
Ryumin and Capablanca, the tournament winner. Capablanca won. Photographer unknown.
“A curious anecdote about Moscow 1936 was related years later by Capablanca’s widow, the woman whose love was said to have inspired Capablanca’s victory:
It is little known, I believe, that Stalin came to see Capablanca play, hiding behind a drapery. This happened in Moscow in 1936. Capa had mentioned it to me en passant, so I am a bit hazy about the details, such as who had accompanied Stalin–seems to me it was Krylenko. However, the gist of this encounter remains quite clear in my mind. Capa said to Stalin: “Your Soviet players are cheating, losing the games on purpose to my rival, Botvinnik, in order to increase his points on the score.” According to Capa, Stalin took it good-naturedly. He smiled and promised to take care of the situation. He did. From then on the cheating . . . stopped and Capablanca . . . won the tournament all by himself.
“Capablanca’s charges of collusion were not ungrounded. Botvinnik’s friend, the Leningrad master Ragozin, participated in both Moscow 1935 and 1936.”
Flohr and Ragozin, with a clear view of the BFII pieces. Ragozin won. Photographer unknown.
“Although his overall results were mediocre, Ragozin later (in 1946) revealed in his Party biography that he had received a special, secret prize in each tournament for the best score against foreign participants. No such prize was mentioned in the official tournament books.”
One of the things I like about writing for this website and managing the Facebook group Shakhmatnyye Kollektsionery is how posts often generate discussion and further discoveries. So it was with our recent article on The Ubiquitous Soviet Upright Pieces of Artel Vsekokhudozhnik.
St. Petersburg collector and researcher Sergey Kovalenko has reviewed his archives and found a second well-known set in an Artel Vsekokhudozhnik box. The set had been sold some time ago by an Etsy and eBay dealer known as Antikvar to a buyer unknown at this writing. Sergey kept photos from the set’s listing for his archives. He has generously shared them with us.
Antikvar photos. Sergey Kovalenko archives.
The label appears identical to that found in Mykhailo Kovalenko’s specimen discussed here. The top line recites the name of the artel; the middle line appears to give its address. The bottom line describes the contents: Chess (set or pieces) No. 4, presumably indicating their suitability for play on a board with 40 mm squares.
The pieces are easily recognizable and fairly common today, and generally are considered to come from the late 1930s or pre-war 1940s. Arlindo Vieira described them in 2012 as “Soviet Championship” pieces of the 1950s and 1960s, but we now know that the championship sets sharing many of this set’s design elements were from the BFII family. Russian collectors refer to the design as the “Leningrad Schoolboy” set as it is found in photographs of Leningrad schoolboys playing with them. Here is one such photo from the St. Petersburg Archives provided by Sergey.
Leningrad, c. 1937. St. Petersburg Archives. Photographer unknown.
As Moscow collector Alexander Chelnokov informs us, many of the known specimens of the “Leningrad Schoolboy” design were sold from Leningrad. Others have been sold from Ukraine. Sergey tells us that the photographic record shows them being played with in locations other than Leningrad.
Whether the “Leningrad Schoolboy” sets were made by Artel Vsekokhudozhnik in Moscow and sold elsewhere I cannot say. One respected dealer from Kiev suggested to me that this design was manufactured in multiple locations. Inasmuch as there is no hard evidence that any entity other than Vsekokhudozhnik produced them, and that I know of only three surviving Vsekokhudozhnik boxes, I am hard-pressed to simply dismiss the Antikvar specimen as a case of a box mismatched with a set of pieces. I cannot dismiss the possibility that the sets were made in Moscow and transported to Leningrad and elsewhere for sale and use. At the same time, I find the suggestion of multiple points of production to be plausible. As with so many other issues involving Soviet chess sets, more research and evidence are needed.
Here are photos from a specimen in my collection, which I obtained without an original box from Ukraine.
Chuck Grau Collection, photos.
My specimen has 87.5 mm kings. The pieces are unweighted, and have cloth bottoms.
Soviet and Late Tsarist Chess Sets 
