The Last Pots. The renowned Skopin ceramics factory is being revived, then calling for help again.

A small but very famous Skopin ceramics factory is being revived and is once again calling for help.
"How can we place an order with you if your director is a pedophile?", - these are the questions employees hear JSC Skopin Art Ceramics, commonly known as the Skopin ceramics factory. Directors Yuri Shvetsov арестовали In February, he was arrested on suspicion of indecent assault with minors. He had no connection to Skopin or the pottery business, but the incident severely damaged the company's reputation. But that's not all. The company's accounts are currently frozen due to a large lawsuit against Skopin Art Ceramics.
The factory has existed since 1969, and the Skopin pottery industry has existed since 1640. Since the 2020s, the production has been threatened with bankruptcy several times. Following this, the ancient Skopin craft itself may disappear.
NeMoskva investigated what's happening with the world-famous Skopin ceramics factory and what would happen if it closed.
Do you remember Rybov?
Just 40 years ago, almost every Ryazan family had a green-brown kvassnik (a kvass pot) in the cupboard, shaped like a rooster, an osprey (the symbol of Skopin), or, most often, a fish. Some had a pot-bellied teapot shaped like a lion with cups, or a candlestick. These were the creations of the Skopin ceramics factory, which numbered nearly 200 people during Soviet times.



“I came to the factory in 1992. It was a large enterprise with two clean and bright workshops, order was maintained everywhere, — recalls the chief artist, head of production Natalia Godovikova. - Everyone received a decent salary, even by the standards of the 1990s, and milk was given as compensation for working hazardous conditions. The factory had its own fleet of vehicles, its own bus, its own KAMAZ truck, and everything was covered in flowerbeds and roses. They worked two shifts, and government contracts were plentiful. Getting a job there was considered prestigious.
Skopin itself was a cozy, well-kept town with a population of just over 26. It was called the "town of craftsmen": in addition to renowned potters, glassmakers, carpet factory specialists, and a large clothing company lived and worked there. Coal was mined in the area; numerous waste heaps can still be seen outside the town. Skopin was the birthplace of composer Anatoly Novikov ("Smuglyanka," "Eh, Roads," "Hymn of the Democratic Youth," and others—author's note), playwright Alexander Afinogenov, Marshal Sergei Biryuzov, and dozens of other prominent figures in the arts, military, and politics. In recent years, Skopin is mentioned only in connection with the "Skopin maniac." Viktor Mokhov and born here Zakhar PrilepinThe Skopin ceramics factory is also attracting media attention. It's making headlines across the country due to its success. нat the annual exhibition The Ladya exhibition center in Moscow's Expocentre freezes and closes due to lack of funds.
Hand in Hand
In the early 2000s, the state-owned enterprise became a closed joint-stock company, and the owner of the shares Valentin Telyshev in 2006 he put the company on the market for saleуHe was unable to transition to market relations: "We have a head [in Soviet times] "I wasn't worried about anything. The state bought everything wholesale and supplied everything necessary. Ceramics went abroad, bringing the country hard currency. And today the main concern is where to sell the goods?".

The owner of the factory became Victor Kuznetsov, in 2018 he was replaced Dmitry Katunin, under which production almost collapsed. In the spring of 2021 about the devastation and debts of the factory The company's popularity spread beyond the region. The team then shrank to 40 people, and the artists, whose work is known to ceramics connoisseurs worldwide, received wages of 10 to 14 rubles, with a six-month delay. Nevertheless, Skopin ceramics continued to stand alongside such ancient Russian crafts as Vologda lace and Gzhel ware, Gusev crystal, and Khokhloma ware.
Governor Nikolay Lyubimov (now a senator - author's note) promised to help revive production: "We will definitely support it. I will personally oversee and assist. Pottery is the district's signature art. The local company, Skopin Art Ceramics, has secured a new investor. This will allow the craft to grow. Skopin ceramics must live on!".



"How can we place an order with you if your director is a pedophile?"—that's what we heard from one major customer. "Aren't you ashamed to sell your products after such-and-such a director?"—that's what we heard at the exhibition. This is nonsense! What's our fault, what's the fault of a mother of six who works in a factory and makes tableware with her own hands? — a company employee, who asked not to be named, told NeMoskva. — What are the other workers to blame for, and our products are now stigmatized?

That was just the beginning.
In April the factory received actionnew documents in a case concerning the recovery of amounts under a loan agreement and a subpoena. The plaintiff is the former development director of Skopinskaya Art Ceramics CJSC. Danil Lysenko, the third party is the former CEO of this enterprise, the CEO of Skopinsky Souvenir LLC (closely associated with the closed joint-stock company) Dmitry KatuninThe accounts are frozen. The factory cannot receive subsidies for housing and utilities or payment for orders.
Artist Nadezhda Arsenkova says employees feel like they're back in 2021:
"Last time, I had to quit my job: my husband works here, and having two parents in the family who weren't receiving wages was too much. I had to somehow make a living. Under Shvetsov, I returned to the factory because wages resumed and were stable. He bought and installed boilers, we got heating [the heating system had frozen and stopped working in 2021], and workers from neighboring countries arrived to do unskilled work. Things were starting to improve, and we had already decided the crisis was over. Receiving the court documents was a real blow to everyone.
The company's staff, left without leadership and means of subsistence, decided to ask the governor for help. Pavel MalkovThe initiative group attempted to schedule an appointment, but received the following response: the governor isn't available, leave your question, and the deputies will call you if they deem it necessary. While they waited, they wrote a collective letter asking for the company's closure to be prevented and urging the need for government support. No one called them back, and the letter remained unsent.



Employees say they can only wait and hope that the plaintiffs lose the lawsuit and the factory won't have to pay millions it doesn't have.
The plaintiff is confident that he will win, since he is only demanding the return of his own.
"These are internal matters. I once gave a loan to develop the production, and now I have to pay it back. I once believed that it could still be revived and improved, but in reality, it turned out that much more money would be needed. Small infusions won't do. The buildings are dilapidated, the equipment is worn out. I left there a long time ago, and I don't know how things are. I just want my money back; I have no desire to ruin or cause any damage to the production. On the contrary, I wish you every prosperity, because this craft is unique." — Danil Lysenko explained to NeMoskva.
He preferred not to disclose the exact amount of the sum being sought. Employees say it's around 5 million rubles, but that's not certain. They're afraid to mention such a sum out loud—it would simply ruin the factory. At the same time, no one can recall anything that was modernized, repaired, or replaced at the plant for millions of rubles under Katunin.
He won't die right away.
Since the 17th century, clay for making kitchenware has been prepared like this: first, it had to be mined, dried, ground with millstones, mixed with water to form a liquid dough, strained, the water removed, and kneaded to remove air. The clay was then kneaded with feet, and everything else was done by hand. The workers talk about this in detail, because they have long since bitterly laughed among themselves: all this is ahead of them, and civilized methods of clay preparation have become inaccessible. Many artisans also work from home, creating unique display pieces, garden figurines, small souvenirs, and gift pots and pans "to feed the family." However, electricity bills are much higher than the sales revenue.

"Let's say, if the production facility closes, the craft itself won't die. Or rather, it will, but not immediately. Because in Skopin there are still many artisans, hereditary artisans, who won't give up the craft—they can't live without it. But will our children want to support the craft if it has no prospects, if it's unprofitable?" — Arsenkova reasons. — Therefore, folk crafts should be supported by the state. This isn't just sewing trousers and hats; it's a unique craft that represents the very roots we should know and remember. This is the source of that very pride we constantly talk about.
Skopin Ceramics is more than just a factory. It's also a center for folk arts and crafts on Skopin's main street, a museum, and a shop where you can buy both memorable souvenirs and useful household utensils. Children learn pottery at the center, and tourists come here to make their own pots at workshops. They see only the "front sign": the Crafts Center is still more or less afloat, its situation slightly better than that of the factory. According to the factory's employees, they have repeatedly appealed to the authorities for support, but have always received the same answer: "You're a private company, ask the owner, we can't help you.".



In response to the factory's latest problem, Ryazan residents often comment online зnoticeThat "it's last century, no one needs ceramics." The artists say the opposite: whenever they fail to appear at the Ladya exhibition at the Expocentre, ceramics enthusiasts from all over the country start calling them, asking, "Why didn't you come? What happened?" They actually missed the annual exhibition for a couple of years due to lack of money, and now they're remembering how Shvetsov paid for one of the central, high-visibility spots at the 2022 Ladya exhibition. There are plenty of admirers of Skopin ceramics in Russia, even too many. In recent months, one employee after another has been receiving offers to sell unique museum pieces, some of which are the only ones left. They say, "What, are you so stingy? You're falling apart anyway."
Photo: NeMoskva, Skopinskaya Art Ceramics website, Skopinskaya Art Ceramics store, Tatyana Loshchinina, historical photos from the public domain

