Preliminary architectural concept for the M-8 block of the “Seventh Heaven” residential district in the Sovetsky District of Kazan
Copyright: © Sergey Skuratov ARCHITECTS
The new project is a continuation of the first one; we are still refining and adjusting it – the design keeps evolving, although now it’s more about detailing now. I believe that in the updated version, the color and material composition of the volumes and facades is more complex and nuanced than what we achieved in 2014.
In the new project, the client decided to abandon the original idea of using factory-made prefabricated panels. As a result, we gained more freedom to work through various subtle design elements. The ornamental quality as we knew it, intended for the factory molds of the white panels, was left behind. The school building changed its location and layout – and, fortunately, thanks to the well-grounded arguments we presented and, to a large extent, the support of Kazan's chief architect, Ilsiyar Tukhvatullina, for which we are deeply grateful – we succeeded in ensuring that the school would not be a standard design, but an individually developed one that now occupies its rightful place as an urban landmark.
The original material combination has been preserved: white stone and fiber-reinforced concrete, clinker brick and weathered steel – used in different proportions to emphasize the unique character of each part of the complex through contrast.
And, last but not least, the artificial river remains.
In the new project, the client decided to abandon the original idea of using factory-made prefabricated panels. As a result, we gained more freedom to work through various subtle design elements. The ornamental quality as we knew it, intended for the factory molds of the white panels, was left behind. The school building changed its location and layout – and, fortunately, thanks to the well-grounded arguments we presented and, to a large extent, the support of Kazan's chief architect, Ilsiyar Tukhvatullina, for which we are deeply grateful – we succeeded in ensuring that the school would not be a standard design, but an individually developed one that now occupies its rightful place as an urban landmark.
The original material combination has been preserved: white stone and fiber-reinforced concrete, clinker brick and weathered steel – used in different proportions to emphasize the unique character of each part of the complex through contrast.
And, last but not least, the artificial river remains.
A project of considerable scale – its future footprint covers 27.6 hectares, a full-sized “micro-district” – it forms part of a much larger urban development initiative in eastern Kazan: a residential complex that Ak Bars, one of the city’s leading developers, has been working on since 2007. The entire district covers 445 hectares, which by Russian building codes already qualifies as a “residential area”; officially, that is indeed its name: “Seventh Heaven” residential district. It borders Pobedy Avenue, which could be seen as Kazan’s equivalent of Moscow’s Third Ring Road – an arterial road separating the inner city from the outer districts.
Preliminary architectural concept for the M-8 block of the “Seventh Heaven” residential district in the Sovetsky District of Kazan
Copyright: © Sergey Skuratov ARCHITECTS
The Kremlin lies 5.5 km away as the crow flies; the beltway, 9 km. The center is relatively close, but still far enough to affect the overall typology of the housing here. Since 2007, Seventh Heaven has seen both prefabricated panel housing – some of it based on Soviet-era standardized designs – and author-designed buildings, including a few residential towers by the architecture firm OSA, as well as the 121-meter Azure Skies tower, currently the tallest building in Kazan. Still, there’s not a great deal of signature architecture here. The new housing is fairly tall and densely packed, with buildings ranging on average from 10 to 20 stories.
The western part is already largely built up, while the eastern part is currently undergoing active construction.
All development unfolds around a large “empty” patch that occupies nearly half of the complex’s total 445 hectares and is located right in the middle, between the eastern and western sections. Two-thirds of this area is a racetrack, whose sports function is planned to be preserved as the main “feature” of the district. The remaining third is the site of the old airfield.
Preliminary architectural concept for the M-8 block of the “Seventh Heaven” residential district in the Sovetsky District of Kazan
Copyright: © Sergey Skuratov ARCHITECTS
There is also a runway stretching from south to north, as well as the airport terminal building, whose imposing portico can be seen in one of the illustrations above. The “Stalin-era” airport building will be preserved; the rest of the former airfield territory is allocated for Sergey Skuratov’s project.
Why do I call this project relevant?
For example, because the main task set by the project is to introduce into this central zone – dominated by “borderline” residential development – a fundamentally different kind of urban fabric: one that is thoughtful and deliberate, with a refined spatial structure and potential points of attraction. To create a neighborhood where the streets are diverse and interspersed with public spaces. And one (this is important!) where people will actually want to come, to take a walk and “sit in a café”, moving from green spaces to stone plazas and back again. Essentially, the idea is to form a new urban center here, by Victory Avenue, between the racetrack and the residential development.
What’s the difference? After all, this area is also predominantly residential, with a large school and kindergartens inside the blocks, although two public centers are envisioned as well – one based around a shopping mall in the north, and the other in the podium of the towers to the south. There is also a small percentage of office space.
The difference, perhaps, lies in the degree of urban planning forethought.
The main spatial axis of district M-8 is a boulevard with an artificial river. It begins from a rectangular artificial pond located on the square in front of the shopping and community center, and then meanders gently southward, following the gentle terrain along the former airfield runway.
Preliminary architectural concept for the M-8 block of the “Seventh Heaven” residential district in the Sovetsky District of Kazan
Copyright: © Sergey Skuratov ARCHITECTS
If you look at the plan, you will see that the central boulevard is X-shaped – resembling an hourglass – as it widens at the top in front of the shopping mall and at the bottom before a cluster of residential towers, whose podium also houses a community center. A river runs through the boulevard, promising to become an appealing spatial attraction.
The central boulevard is the main pedestrian axis and what urban planners call a “linear” public space or even a “linear urban center”. It connects two major public hubs in the north and south.
The idea is that people will stroll here, cross from bank to bank, admire the river’s curves, and sit along the waterfront or in the cafés.
In contrast to the flowing line of the river, the development on both sides of the main boulevard adopts a consistent orthogonal grid. Then, along the river’s western bank, a straight pedestrian street runs directly between the two public hubs, north and south. Near the school, a larger footbridge spans the river – it resembles a curved metal plate, like a spring leaf – along with several smaller pedestrian bridges.
The north-south streets between the blocks are designed for limited car traffic, with priority given to bicycles and pedestrians. Their intersections form plazas with raised paving, and the architects interpret these routes as key paths, necessary, among other things, for connecting the various public “attraction points”.
The traversal streets are smaller, and all lead toward the “linear center”.
The housing typology is mixed. While earlier phases of the Seventh Heaven development shifted styles with each historical period – from prefabricated slabs (often rotated), to towers, and later 18-story superblocks – Skuratov combines all these formats, arranging them into a layout reminiscent of the “saucer” shape common in Russian cities. In the center along the river, the buildings are mid-rise, about 7-8 stories high, while the edges feature 16-story slabs along the racetrack and 21-story towers in the southern part – taller buildings are not permitted here due to height restrictions.
This approach allows the creation of variety through simple techniques and elements – subtle rather than poster-like distinctions. Triangular towers with rounded corners? Yes, but they’re positioned at different angles to one another, offering shifting perspectives.
City blocks? Yes, but they vary in height, with plinths that house parking, courtyards on their rooftops, street-level retail, well-thought-out ventilation, and framed views. They resemble a kind of linear composition. There are no volumes turned at awkward angles that would create shaded, unfit spaces for residential layouts.
Much here is calculated in detail, starting from the urban design concept – down to the minutiae of functional courtyard layouts.
But what strikes me most is that, in addition to the urban design “puzzle”, the architects also carefully considered views and sightlines of the buildings themselves, arranging them in a hierarchy of prominent and background structures. The logic is gradient-based: there are diagrams showing buildings classified as “unique”, “uncommon”, or “common”, and the facades as “expressive”, “moderate”, “or neutral” – plus a special category for “accented northern facades”.
The placement of accents depends on how many vantage points a building is visible from. If it’s seen from four or five spots – it’s unique; from two or three – it’s uncommon; from fewer – it’s common.
By limiting themselves in this way for the sake of a cohesive overall impression, Sergey Skuratov’s team proposed a restrained, precisely tuned modernist mix – based on nuanced façade variations as well as contrast: between materials (brick and white stone) and forms – sharp angles and curves, wide window recesses with soft corners and arches. These arches vary from tight curves in the residential towers and kindergartens to sweeping arcs in the slab buildings or the school façade facing the amphitheater square.
The school building, incidentally, is one of the most minimalist elements here – spread horizontally with a spacious courtyard that gives it a British-college feel, a simple thin vertical grille on the facades, and giant wide arches. It looks like a bold yet straightforward statement, daringly painted in broad strokes.
Definitely better than a standard building – one such standard structure has already been built in the panel part of “Seventh Heaven”, closer to the southern end of the racetrack.
More than just the differences in the facades, what’s really intriguing here is the variety of spaces envisioned: for example, a large, brutally straightforward amphitheater carved into the sloped roof of a shopping center.
Straight streets and a meandering river. Open plazas and a boulevard that “dives” into the podium between the towers. There’s a certain almost mathematical approach to planning these creative decisions. It’s no coincidence that at Sergey Skuratov Architects, gradient brick facades in varied tones are invariably sketched by hand to avoid any risk of repetitive patterns. Here we see that same careful consistency – but on the scale of urban planning.
It must be said that this project fits organically into the series of urban design solutions that have filled Sergey Skuratov’s portfolio since shortly after his company was founded, certainly by 2005. In one large-scale project, the architects at SSA orchestrate spaces and forms of different degrees of accessibility, quiet and activity, plastique and emotional tone – and they do so with increasing precision, taking into account many factors and refining how the various design elements interconnect. One could recall Minsk, Samara, or Moscow’s North River Terminal – a lot of variety. Or the 2006 proposal for the territory of the “Krasny Proletary” factory, near the Donskoy Monastery. But the most relevant precedent, in my view, is the story of the Garden Quarters in Moscow. Not only because that project was eventually implemented – and has become quite well known – but also because back in 2006, the competition proposal for the “Kauchuk” factory site already featured an artificial river, not a pond. Alongside it, the architect grouped smaller, more high-class buildings. It seems like the architect hasn’t let go of that original idea – he believes in its potential, and strives to realize it again and again. There’s a sense of persistence and conviction here, and that, I think, is what gives the project its relevance. Not the trendy, fleeting kind of relevance – but a deeper, more enduring kind. One rooted in a principle that may feel a bit utopian, especially in our context of a society still going through the early stages of capital accumulation, with all its quirks – but a principle that is fundamentally sound: the belief that the architect must shape the project as a whole, thinking through everything from the big-picture composition down to the tiniest details.
What we have here eventually is a comprehensive work – or, should I say, an instance of architectural and urban-planning gesamtkunstwerk. Or, one could say, an example of “total town planning” applied to a specific site. A fragment of the city that doesn’t emerge chaotically, shaped by circumstance, but is instead designed from start to finish. Sergey Skuratov is perhaps the brightest representative of this approach today: he possesses the necessary – and very, very high – degree of perfectionism, dedication, and persistence. Not everyone is ready to appreciate these qualities in an architect-demiurge, and that’s a pity. Because it is precisely these qualities that allow one to treat the city as a work of art, to introduce, in place of chaos, a degree of thoughtful structure and a human – no, not “human factor”, but ratio – the kind of reasoning seen in the finest examples of man-made environments.
In a word, it will be interesting to see what comes of this project.
One more noteworthy detail: many people know that throughout his 25 years of independent practice, Sergey Skuratov has shown a marked inclination for creating bold contrasts using the textures of natural materials. Most notably, the combination of brick and white stone.
In the project for Kazan’s “Seventh Heaven”, this contrast – present since the 2015 version – was given thematic meaning: the brick river bank was “European” (back when the entire residential complex was still called “European Embankment”), while the white-stone bank was “Eastern”. The brick side is “tall”, even though the site itself is completely flat, while the white-stone or “Eastern” side is sloping.
It’s a beautiful metaphor – one immediately starts hearing that song by Vladimir Vysotsky, performed by Marina Vlady: “...the steep shores, the gentle shores...” A beautiful, deeply romantic song that seems to embed its own “literature” into the project.
“Whether or not you can actually do something like that, is another question” – remarks Sergey Skuratov with a twist of self-critical skepticism as he discusses one of his favorite and carefully cultivated design ideas in the project: from the contrast in paving underfoot on either side of the river, to the façade mix, where the brick and white surfaces are grouped closer to their respective river banks, and then are gradually blended, dissolving the contrast.
His doubts are understandable: such “literariness” – even when distilled from context, in this case that of the Volga River that separates East from West – often ends up as a redundant layer of meaning added “on top” of what’s necessary, a symbolic excess. Is it really appropriate here? I don’t know. But I can say with confidence: this kind of approach is extremely, even wildly popular nowadays. The authors of nearly any master plan – or even individual buildings – are all, without exception, in search of a “local identity”. In that sense, this project is absolutely “riding the wave”. Back in 2015, the idea was more of an intuition – and now it’s a prime example. It’s worth saying that one of the undeniably positive aspects of “architectural literature” is that future residents will have something to tell their guests about, a sort of hook, something that clearly distinguishes their neighborhood from others, at least on a “theoretical” level.
And again, the architect’s doubts make perfect sense. Isn’t this opposition of East and West too simplistic? Too “poster-like”?
Maybe that’s what inspired the “swap”: the “western” brick shore here is on the east side, while the “eastern” white-stone shore is on the west. And yet, the white-stone side is closer to the city center, to the white – well, painted brick – Kazan Kremlin. And the river’s “high bank” corresponds to Kazan’s topography: it’s on the elevated left bank that the city was built. This is yet another swap – this one complicates the metaphor, underlining its scenographic, supplemental, and non-essential nature. Plus, the way red and white houses are interspersed on both banks again kind of prompts us not to take the idea too literally.
But the song that I mentioned – gosh, it still keeps ringing in my head.