Time to read: 21 minutes(s)

Architect and restorer Alexander Matyukhin and his family pioneered the journey from the Moscow region to the northern village of Arkhangelo to restore wooden churches and live a traditional life. Little by little, like-minded people began to join him. At first, the men came to work as carpenters, but then they began bringing their wives and children and staying permanently. In just 12 years, five families from the capital and its surrounding areas have moved to this area. Journalist Yulia Nevskaya visited Arkhangelo and learned how former Muscovites are changing the village's appearance, and how the harsh rural life is changing them. We are publishing this story in collaboration with the publication New Tab.

The road to Arkhangelo from the district center of Kargopol is 54 kilometers of smooth, well-maintained asphalt. The village's central street is also paved: among the neat houses clad in colorful siding, you can occasionally see abandoned wooden huts, but they are still far from ruins. 

It's drizzling. It's gotten cold, and stoves are lit everywhere. Smoke rises from chimneys, and the houses exude a cozy, warm atmosphere. 

The official name of the village is Shelokhovskaya, but people continue to use the old name – Arkhangelo. 

Shelokhovskaya's main landmark is its two wooden churches, standing next to each other on a large vacant lot in the middle of the village. The Church of the Archangel Michael, crowned with a cube-shaped roof and the five-domed structure traditionally found in the Poonezh region, was built in the early 18th century. The Church of the Meeting of the Lord was built a hundred years later, so its architecture is different: a helmet-shaped dome with a single crown. Both buildings survived the Soviet era thanks to their economic use. Locals recall that the Church of the Archangel was used for grain storage, while the Church of the Meeting housed repair shops. Both churches are now listed as regional architectural monuments, and both require significant repairs. 

 Without these churches in Arkhangelo, so many Muscovites wouldn't have come to live here. Today, many of them, along with their children, gathered in a century-old wooden hut in the village center to celebrate the birthday of Valentina, the wife of the head of the local carpentry team, Alexander Matyukhin. 

The hut is warm: the stoves on the lower, utility floor are lit, generating enough heat to reach the second, living floor. On the table are Olivier salad, cutlets, boiled potatoes, and homemade pickles. Valentina, in a blue dress and with her hair neatly combed, cheerfully arranges food on plates: she's been cooking all day while the men from her husband's carpentry team finish restoring the roof of the hut where the feast is taking place. Alexander Matyukhin himself is dining at the head of the table; he, too, has been working all day, carving decorative elements for the roof. 

While the adults noisily discuss life stories and plans for the coming days, the children climb onto the wooden bunk bed under the hut's ceiling: for them, it's a real attraction. The youngest, Valentina's three-year-old nephew Sasha, was the first to tire and fell asleep in his mother's arms. 

Alexander Matyukhin is 39 years old, with a light beard and hair pulled back into a ponytail. He exudes a calm demeanor: he moves measuredly and speaks quietly and thoughtfully. Alexander is a professional architect and restorer of wooden architecture, but he often works with his hands, like a carpenter, rather than drawing up plans on paper. 

Matyukhin owes his profession to the Russian North, where he found himself in the late 90s. As a teenager, he learned about volunteers who went on expeditions to wooden architecture sites under the guidance of the renowned carpenter and restorer Dmitry Sokolov, and he joined their ranks. With their own enthusiasm and public funding, the craftsmen and their assistants dismantled rotten logs, straightened leaning bell towers, patched leaky roofs, and cleared abandoned churches of debris. 

Alexander recalls that when he first came to the Kargopolsky District with a restoration team, he realized he'd never loved a place so much. "I come from a large family. Growing up, we didn't have any extravagances like trips to the sea. My brothers and sisters had them when I was older and came here. I've never been to the Black Sea or even the White Sea. My sea is Kenozero. It's a wonderful sea; I don't need anything else," he laughs.

Matyukhin was so captivated by northern wooden architecture that he eventually enrolled in the Abramtsevo College in the Moscow region, specializing in artistic woodworking, and then, in 2012, earned a degree in architectural restoration. While at college, Alexander met Valentina, who was studying to be a ceramic artist and later became his wife. 

Even then, he began thinking about moving. "The original idea was to come live in the village and do restoration work, so as not to have to travel long distances to work. Everything is far from Moscow, so I wanted to be local," Alexander explains. 

Matyukhin learned about the Archangel and its crumbling wooden churches from his teacher, Dmitry Sokolov. Villagers approached him: they wanted to save their ancient churches but didn't know what to do. Sokolov, busy with work, suggested Alexander go and see the sites. 

"I came here twice, surveyed the churches, met local activists and Father Andrei, who had just become a priest at the time," Alexander recalls. "And I thought: I've long dreamed of a major restoration. And this would be just the place to do it. Come, settle in, and restore the churches to their proper appearance." 

So, in 2011, the Matyukhins moved their entire family from Korolev, near Moscow, to Arkhangelsk. Their daughter Ulyana was six at the time, their son Grisha was four, and their younger daughters, Varvara and Alexandra, were born after the move. 

Alexander and Valentina say they settled in quickly: almost immediately, they bought an empty house and befriended the locals. From the very first day, the locals, as neighbors, began bringing the Matyukhins milk and treating them to pies. However, the house later required extensive rebuilding and renovation. Lighting the stove and bathing in the banya were nothing new to the family: after years of volunteering on restoration projects and traveling throughout the North, the Matyukhins no longer found the village life intimidating. 

Valentina, who took on almost all the housekeeping and childcare duties in her new home, says that moving to the village "felt like she'd broken free": "It was Sasha's idea to build churches. For me, it's in keeping with the desire to have our own home, which we now have here." 

Alexander hasn't yet managed to begin restoring the old churches in Arkhangelo, but he has done a lot to preserve them and even built a new church in the village. 

When the Matyukhins first moved from the Moscow region to their new home, church services in Shelokhovskaya were held in a small, siding-clad chapel, built by hand as best they could in the early 2000s by local believers. The chapel was unheated, and residents froze in the harsh northern winters. 

Restoring the old churches wouldn't have solved the problem: they were also built to be cold, and their structural design made it impossible to insulate them. It would have been cheaper and quicker to build a new, smaller church. Matyukhin himself designed it in the traditions of northern wooden architecture. Construction dragged on for five years, and Alexander no longer remembers the estimated cost: 

"It's hard to finance here; it's hard to manage such a construction project. The church doesn't help from above; no money is sent from Moscow. Father Andrei organized everything. The people themselves raised funds for the local parish: they needed it, and they did it."

Alexander initially built a wooden church dedicated to the Orthodox saint Pachomius of Kenia in a picturesque location on the banks of the Onega River with his comrades from the volunteer restoration movement; some of them later returned to the site as foremen. Over time, several people formed the "Archangelo" artel, which proved highly sought after in a region where, according to official data alone, the city has been rapidly declining in recent years. at least a thousand monuments of wooden architecture.

"The original idea was this: let's build a new church, practice on it, assemble a team, and then work on the old churches [in Arkhangelo]. But when the team was formed, word of it spread quickly throughout the region, and began to invite "We're working on various projects. If we're being pulled everywhere, we physically can't simultaneously work on our churches," Alexander explains, explaining why, after 12 years, he still hasn't gotten around to restoring the Arkhangelsk and Sretensky churches, the restoration work he came to Shelokhovskaya to do in the first place. 

However, all these years the team looked after the churches in Arkhangelo: they put supports on the logs, patched the roofs, and mowed the grass around. 

Matyukhin has not yet been able to carry out full-scale emergency response and restoration work. This requires significant Financial costs, especially since construction materials have recently become more expensive. The design documentation, which must be approved by the Arkhangelsk Region's Inspectorate for the Protection of Cultural Heritage Sites, also requires considerable time and resources.

Nevertheless, thanks to the assistance of Moscow architect and restorer Andrei Bode, who specializes in wooden architecture, it was possible to prepare a design for emergency repairs for the Sretensky Cathedral and a restoration project for the Church of the Archangel Michael. These projects are currently being approved by the inspectorate. The only remaining issue is funding. 

Recently, Ekaterina Okulova, head of the Priozersk rural settlement, whose administrative center is the village of Shelokhovskaya, wrote a request to Arkhangelsk asking for a solution to the issue of church restoration, as they are regional property as monuments of wooden architecture. In response, the regional inspectorate for the protection of cultural heritage sites responded with a letter promising to carry out emergency repairs on the Sretensky Church in 2024 and to begin restoration of the Church of the Archangel Michael in 2025. 

While the response is encouraging, Alexander and Ekaterina are concerned that contractors might arrive who, due to tight deadlines, will fail to adhere to the technology, and the churches will lose their historical appearance. 

- I'm shaking so that we can heaven "The artifacts haven't disappeared from the Church of the Archangel Michael. I'm ready to put them here, and no one will breathe on them," Ekaterina points to the empty space in her office. "We're open to any solutions that will benefit us, but Sasha should be the one doing the restoration, or at least be an observer from the public. If anything happens, we'll form a ring around the church and not let anyone in: until Sasha is on this team, no one will come in here."

Alexander Matyukhin's support for the old "wooden houses" isn't just for cultural reasons: his entire family is churchgoing. He sings in the choir at the new church, and his wife and daughters help. They also recruit locals to join the church choir, since someone will need to sing in a couple of years when Alexander becomes a priest. Two and a half years ago, he began studying at the seminary in Vologda and hopes the diocese will be accommodating, allowing him to combine his work in the cooperative and his position as rector of the parish. The current rector, Father Andrei, literally divides his time between four villages. 

While the issue of restoration of the churches is being resolved, the artel is finishing the roof of the century-old ore The hut—the very one where Valentina's birthday was celebrated. A traditional culture center will be located there. The hut was brought five years ago from the neighboring village of Bolshoy Khaluy and reassembled in Arkhangelo.

At the Traditional Culture Center, which the Rudnaya Izba will become, guests and local residents will be able to immerse themselves in the traditional life of the Russian North and touch everything with their own hands. Valentina already occasionally holds master classes here—in Arkhangelo, she began mastering local crafts: weaving, embroidery, and patchwork. And on Sundays, the artel workers and their families, along with locals, gather in the izba to sing ancient Kargopol songs. "This izba is the ideological center of our community, who came to restore [the churches]," explains Alexander. 

The izba project was initially sponsored by a friend of Alexander's from Moscow, who is interested in wooden architecture. He paid for the izba to be purchased, transported, and restored. Village residents and volunteers helped caulk the walls. Funds for the roof restoration were raised through group Archangel on VKontakte. One workday for a team leader costs around 2500 rubles. No matter how committed people are, they and their families need to make a living. 

Currently, the Arkhangelo cooperative employs four people: Alexander himself, Sergey Tarabaev, Konstantin Kuzmin, and Alexey (he doesn't give his last name). Sergey and Konstantin moved from Moscow; Alexey used to live in Arkhangelsk, but then retired and moved with his wife further out of the city. 

Sergey Tarabayev is in his thirties. In his youth, he participated in the youth restoration movement "Restvaros," where he met his future wife, Yulia. They now have five children: the eldest, Evdokia, is nine, and the youngest, Ilya, is four. Like the Matyukhins, the Tarabayevs regularly attend church services with their children and speak of faith as an important part of their lives.

Sergei, tall and fair-haired, says he dreamed of moving to the countryside from an early age, but only began seriously considering the move after meeting Alexander Matyukhin on a volunteer expedition. In 2012, Tarabaev came to Arkhangelsk to volunteer to help build a new church and realized "that I could work and raise a family here." 

He and Yulia are sitting at the table in the kitchen section of the hut. There's a stove, an old oven, a refrigerator, and a dishwasher. But the most surprising thing about this village house isn't the dishwasher, but the shower stall, right next to the refrigerator. The Tarabayevs laugh that they had no place to put it, but living without a shower is impossible, especially with five children. At that moment, a gaggle of fair-haired children is playing noisily in the next room. Every now and then, one of the children runs into the kitchen to check if the table is set. 

The family moved to the village of Sorokinskaya, across the river from Arkhangelo, about two years ago. This year, they enrolled their youngest, Ilya, in the local kindergarten; the other children were already in kindergarten or school. Yulia, a slender brunette in a plaid shirt, laughs that she should finally have time for her own chores, but there's so much work to do in the village house that it's difficult to get it all done.

"In the city, the janitor will clean up for you, and they'll wash the floors in the entryway," Sergei chimes in. "But here... When it snows, all your plans are cancelled: you grab a shovel and shovel snow. If you don't shovel it, you won't leave the house. The grass needs to be mowed, otherwise there will be mosquitoes. If something happens to the water, you have to deal with it yourself. Household maintenance also requires a lot of effort and time. And you have to do everything quickly. Without skill, your energy will be spent on surviving, and you simply won't have time to learn new things." 

Sergey Tarabaev used to be a design engineer at a Moscow research institute, and now works as a carpenter. He says he's long dreamed of living like this. Yulia also likes the village, although she admits she sometimes misses the opportunities and experiences. But for her, the main reason for moving was her children. She says the seven of them were cramped in their Moscow apartment, and the neighbors downstairs constantly complained about the noise from the children playing.

"Families with many children were treated like outsiders. When I went out alone with five children, they would scatter in all directions. Some would get into a puddle, others would dig around in the trash. And everyone would yell at me, 'Mom, watch your children!' At some point, I realized I couldn't go to playgrounds anymore because I was perceived as abnormal," Yulia says with a restrained laugh. "Cities are child-centered now. When a six-year-old used to come home with a key around his neck and open the door himself, no one cared. Now, if a child is left unattended for three minutes, everyone judges them. But in the village, children are very independent; they are trusted with many things." 

Yulia manages to work alongside her children, the household, and her garden. She is a women's crisis psychologist, leading trainings and women's psychological practices. "heat circles" Previously, all of this was offline, but now Yulia works online. "I have clients, everything is fine," she assures. "Taking care of the children and running the household is an exhalation, but I need to inhale too. Inhaling is my job."

Unlike other Muscovites who came to Arkhangelo, 24-year-old Konstantin Kuzmin is unmarried. He studied carpentry and joinery in college, and then a classmate invited him to join the restoration work. Konstantin has been with the artel since May 2021 and currently lives in a so-called volunteer hut—an ordinary village house purchased by one of the restoration movement's participants so that workers coming to Arkhangelo would have a place to stay. Konstantin is a man of few words, so the artel's leader shares part of his story.

"Kostya is trying to see if he can live here," Alexander explains. "We need to understand whether someone is physically and psychologically prepared to cope with this lifestyle. If there are things here he can't live without, then perhaps it makes sense to move."

Konstantin himself says that in the summer he decided to stay in Arkhangelo permanently and began looking for a house—one that would cost no more than half a million rubles, but not close to the road or neighbors. He's already saved most of the money, and is considering borrowing the rest from his relatives. They were surprised by his decision to move to Arkhangelo, but overall, they don't mind. Konstantin's uncle has already visited him on vacation to see what village life is like here.

Alexander Matyukhin hopes there will be more people like Konstantin here:

"It all flowed from one another. We arrived, there were churches here, and for the sake of the churches, we [created] a cooperative. But churches don't just exist; people need them. So, the idea [that something had to be done] to keep life here alive came next," Alexander Matyukhin explains his idea. "And now the cooperative is no longer a means of restoring something, but a way to live and work here." 

Natalya Bubenshchikova, head of the Kargopol Municipal District, shares a similar perspective. "Our population has declined, and we have a shortage of personnel, no one to work. In Kargopol, people are prepared to cope, but in the villages, it's more difficult," she says. Natalya has worked in the district administration for a long time, and has headed the district since February 2021. She is concerned with the development of this area and the preservation of local cultural heritage. "It's important to preserve pockets of Russian culture—they're our escape routes," she says. 

The population decline in the region is clearly evident in Arkhangelsk and the neighboring villages. It's the same as everywhere else: the elderly are dying, the young are leaving. Ekaterina Okulova, head of the Priozersk rural settlement, cites statistics: in 2022, 22 people died and two were born in the Shelokhovsky (Arkhangelsk) cluster of villages. Currently, 864 people live there, half of whom are pensioners. 159 people are employed, and 124 children attend the local school and kindergarten. "We had five families leave for the neighboring [Plesetsky] district this summer," Ekaterina says regretfully. "There's a cosmodrome there, and the salaries and conditions are different: movie theaters, sushi bars, pizzerias." 

Both officials assure that there are plenty of jobs in both Kargopol and Arkhangelo itself. "You can find work; there are tons of unfilled entrepreneurial niches," Natalya Bubenshchikova states. According to Ekaterina Okulova, Arkhangelo, with a population of 500, currently has 50 open positions. 

"I don't have a driver, I don't have a janitor, and the school doesn't have a school bus driver. The farm is struggling, and the girls are calling around [looking for workers]. We have [vacant] houses, and the owner of the agroholding is ready to buy them—just come and work," Okulov describes the personnel situation. "We're currently looking for a tractor driver for the municipal management company; we're offering five thousand rubles a day. You can work [as many days] as you want, but the snow on the roads needs to be cleared quickly. The standard for the entire cluster of villages is two days, which is quite realistic."

Ekaterina herself has been the village's head for just under two years. A former journalist, she spent her childhood in the area but lived in Kaliningrad for many years. Ekaterina immediately set up village social media pages and began applying for grants. She is currently planning to submit an application to help the Matyukhins with the interior design of their ore hut. She believes their initiative will lay the foundation for creating an attractive tourist brand for the area. 

Both Natalia and Ekaterina see the region's future in preserving cultural values ​​and developing tourism. But to keep people in the villages and rural areas, Bubenshchikova notes, social infrastructure and modern amenities are necessary. 

"People simply need hot water at home, and for it to drain somewhere. Free-fall toilets shouldn't exist in the 21st century. But we have them everywhere," says Natalya. "A young person needs comfort, a good shopping center, a decent gym. All the things that are completely commonplace in Moscow. Our fresh air is a mere trifle compared to the amenities they have there." 

Alexander Matyukhin says his family strives to create a life that balances basic comfort and a traditional lifestyle. Three years ago, their home burned, and now they're remodeling a century-old hut brought from another village, trying to preserve its historical appearance as much as possible. For this reason, for example, the Matyukhins have abandoned the standard plastic windows and shower. They've decided to bathe the old-fashioned way, in a banya, to prevent the walls from rotting from dampness. 

Alexander assures that he has everything he needs here: 

"People leave and say, 'We need a theater.' Maybe they'll never go to one. We just need a theater. There will never be a real theater in Arkhangelo. If only for that reason, Moscow will always be better."

But, the restorer continues, the wooden architectural monuments for which he moved north can only live if there are people here. 

"We're trading our culture for Pyaterochka," Alexander says of those leaving for the capital. "What kind of homeland is there, what kind of ancestors are there?"

He uses roughly the same logic when discussing events on the "mainland," although he's reluctant to discuss them. For example, Alexander considers the so-called "special operation" in Ukraine not a matter of grand politics, but the result of a "consumerist attitude toward one's life and one's country." A patriot has no right to oppose the state, he believes.

"People's values ​​have changed dramatically. We won't achieve anything positive with these values ​​if everyone thinks only about their own comfort and well-being," says future priest Matyukhin. "I come from an extremely patriotic family. I stand by those positions. I support our state and don't separate myself from it. If they call for conscription, then that's how it should be. I'm just someone who didn't serve in the army. I think certain things need to be done here [in Arkhangelo]; they're no less important."

Natalia Bubenshchikova and Alexander are currently developing a program to attract people to Kargopol who want to restore monuments, learn the trade, and live on the land. According to Natalia, the district is willing to allocate funds for this; they just need to figure out how to organize it. Alexander believes that restorers should be recruited from people who are somehow connected to the area where the crumbling huts and churches are located. From his own team's experience, he knows that this approach encourages more responsible work. 

"Everyone who consciously chooses to stay here values ​​something," Alexander concludes. "You can instantly find ninety-nine reasons to leave: mosquitoes, swamps, midges, dirt. But there's only one reason to stay: the feeling that this land is yours and you need this place. Right here, you feel like you're at home."

Yulia Nevskaya