More than Moscow, it is the Russian soul, the culture, the generosity, the enthusiasm and the sadness of the Muscovites, in which I sometimes find myself, that attract me. These churches from which deep chants escape, these galleries with stunning collections, this subway where each station is a real museum, these wide and grey avenues... It is always moving to know that this people has seen it all in such a short time, like the Babushka I had the pleasure of meeting in the empty kitchens of the Kremlin, who has been feeding for 35 years all those who have made and unmade the history of this country.
Moscow is a city full of memories that seem to live every day to the melancholic rhythm of a creaky bow on the strings of a violin...