Moscow’s Toy Makers Fashion Political Satire : On the main shopping street, vendors hawk a variety of goods, including nesting dolls that show who’s in, who’s out.

It used to be that Kremlin watchers had to pore over official photos of who stood where in Red Square to find out which dour Communist leader was in ascendance.

But in the post- perestroika age, one need only go down to the Arbat and check out the latest matroshka doll--the hand-painted wooden nesting dolls in descending size that fit snugly into one another.

Here on Moscow’s main shopping street--a sort of pedestrian Melrose Avenue--budding capitalists hawk a variety of goods, including the dolls, which subvert traditional Russian folk art with sly political humor.

During perestroika, the Gorbachev doll always loomed largest. He fit over Brezhnev, who fit over Khrushchev, who fit over Stalin, who fit over Lenin, who fit over a tiny Karl Marx. The doll makers usually ignored the short-lived elderly leaders Konstantin Chernenko and Yuri Andropov.

After the aborted coup last August, the makers of matroshka scrambled to divine the political winds. Several new figures appeared on the Arbat and the sprawling weekend flea market at Izmailovo, a Moscow suburb. One was a two-faced doll with a triumphant Gorbachev on one side and a smug Yeltsin on the other. Other matroshka artists threw up their hands and crafted a blank doll with a big black question mark.

In September, however, the Arbat announced a new Soviet leader months before Gorbachev agreed to step down. It was a big Boris doll with red, jowly cheeks, a white pompadour and a gleam in his eyes as he fit snugly over predecessor Gorbachev.

For those who prefer blueblood matroshkas , the Arbat also has Russian monarchy dolls headed up by Czar Nicholas II, who with his family was executed by the Communists in 1918. Inspired by the Persian Gulf War, Russian humor has also produced a set of tyrant dolls headed by a green-uniformed Saddam Hussein. This rogue’s gallery includes Moammar Kadafi, Pol Pot, Joseph Stalin and--back in the mists of 16th-Century time--Ivan the Terrible.

Shoppers can find dolls with finely detailed, wicked caricatures as well as crudely painted, garish figures that look as if they were turned out by a factory in deepest Sverdlosk. Prices range anywhere from $15 into the hundreds of dollars for a set, depending on the quality. But in Moscow, a good rule of thumb to remember is that the asking price is meaningless. One must hunker down and barter like a good peasant.

Although nesting folk boxes date to AD 1000 in China, wooden nesting dolls didn’t come into vogue until the early 1800s, according to Michele Lyons Lefkovitz, who wrote the 1990 book, “A Collector’s Guide to Nesting Dolls--Histories, Identification, Values.”

By the late 19th Century, the dolls had invaded Poland, Germany, all of Asia and Russia, where they were embraced by a culture that has long used children’s toys for adult social commentary. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, for instance, Russian anti-clerical toys appeared that mocked the lives of some debauched village priests.

During the long winter of Communism, matroshka dolls sidestepped politics altogether in favor of safer topics, such as soldiers or peasant women with rosy cheeks and bright scarves. Perestroika ushered in the age of Soviet and other world-leader dolls. (In years past, Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan were among the biggest-selling dolls.)

“They’re very hot items for Western visitors,” says Ellen Chances, who collects matroshka dolls and is professor of Russian and Soviet literature and culture at Princeton University. “I see them as reflections of culture today. I don’t think that right now any of the political ones have artistic value, but who knows what will happen? They are such a phenomenon of the glasnost era.”

Are they collectible? Some of the ones crafted decades ago are in museums. The more artistic ones show a sense of humor and style, as well as an eye for telling detail. Some even reproduce the gilded painting style of Russian icons. At the very least, they are kitschy commentaries on the changing political scene that may look good on your mantelpiece.

“They vary enormously in quality. They’re made by the thousands, but I’ve seen some very good ones for sale,” says Marian Burleigh-Motley, an expert in Russian and early Soviet painting who directs curatorial studies at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

But Burleigh-Motley has a warning for people who visit the former U.S.S.R. in search of folk-art treasures:

“Don’t buy them because you think they will be worth something; buy them because you like them. I have a Yeltsin set that a friend brought back for me, and I’m happy to have it as a witty comment on what’s happened, not as a work of art.”

And to be sure, Russian prices can’t be beat. By comparison, Toys International in Century City sells a Yeltsin matroshka set for $175 and two sets of Gorby dolls for $89.95 and $129.95.

Russian Connection, a store in the Fairfax district, has 100 styles of dolls that range from $3 for a tiny two-piece set to $300 for a 12-piece set, depending on size, quality and craftsmanship.

When visiting the former Soviet Union, beware of buying icons--the achingly lovely religious scenes or figures painted on wood with old church Slavic lettering. Icons are national treasures and it’s illegal to take them out of the country. If you are stopped at customs, the icon that may have cost you $200 will be confiscated. Besides, you need an expert to tell you if it is authentic or was painted and aged last week in a Moscow flat.

Ditto for antiques such as crystal, jewelry, carpets and just about anything that predates the Communist Revolution. Customs officials can be arbitrary and may demand certificates to prove that an item is not an antiquity. Consult the shopkeeper and consider whether it is a good risk to try carrying it out of the country.

You’re safer buying one of the myriad Arbat T-shirts with clever sayings (“I Survived the Coup”) or counterfeit logos (“Hard Rock Cafe, Leningrad”--with Cyrillic lettering). Both cost from $10 to $15.

Then there are the fur hats, Soviet Army belts, watches and assorted medals for war valor and Communist Party achievements that are for sale. Some merchants hawk what they claim are pre-Revolutionary coins and bills. The selection is much wider at the Izmailovo flea market, which stretches for what seems like miles and includes everything but the kitchen sink, all in varying degrees of quality. Keep a good grip on your purse.

Bring small Western items that don’t take up much space in your luggage to barter or drive a better bargain. Young hawkers seem especially fond of colored farm kerchiefs and tapes of the latest Western bands.

Another good shopping value in Moscow can be hand-painted black lacquered boxes--called palekh after the town outside Moscow that first produced them. They cost from $30 to more than $200, depending on the size and intricacy of design. Watch out for the boxes that merely have an illustration shellacked over the top instead of being painted.

As with matroshka dolls, check the lacquered boxes for richness of detail and color. You can choose from Russian folk tales or winter scenes. There are also boxes painted in a Socialist realism style, but they are now hard to find. Many artists decorate their paintings with silver, gold and mother-of-pearl, prominently displaying the glittering onion domes of Orthodox churches in the background.

Experts say that shoppers should attempt to authenticate the boxes before they buy them.

“There are a lot of fakes being sold. If you see something that looks like a bargain, be suspicious. These things require a lot of labor--it takes up to 70 hours just to make the papier-mache box,” points out Alison Hilton, a professor of Fine Arts at Georgetown University in Washington. . Her book, “Russian Folk Art and the Patterns of Life,” will be published later this year.

Painting on wood is an ancient tradition in Russia. Before the Revolution, Palekh was famous as a center of icon-painting. After the Communists took over, icons were banned, but artists retained the art form by transferring their icon-painting skills to the wooden boxes.

According to Hilton, a Russian artist named Sergei Maliutin and his colleagues feared that traditional decorative arts and crafts were dying in the early 20th Century because of industrialization. They hit upon the idea of creating a cottage industry in which peasants would revive the indigenous arts and boost village economies by marketing the works to middle-class Russians and tourists. The idea caught on.

Arguably the most famous box painter was Ivan Golikov (1886-1937), who attended St. Petersburg Arts Academy and painted frescoes in churches. He was a friend of Maxim Gorky and eventually returned to his native Palekh. There he turned out up to five boxes a day, often inscribing them with poetry and scenes of battles, hunts and folklore.

Hilton says that artisans from the neighboring towns of Mstera( and Kholui produce equally good, authentic and interesting art. Unlike the folksy matroshkas , Hilton says the lacquered boxes are a decorative, applied art form.

Buyers should look for boxes that are signed by an artist and list the name of the town where it was produced, such as Palekh or Mstera. Still, it’s difficult to authenticate whether your purchase was painted by an artist of that school or mass-manufactured in a Moscow workshop, experts say.

If you are worried about provenance, some experts suggest avoiding the Arbat and Izmailova and visiting a private or state shop, where it may be possible to authenticate the work.

Beriozkas-- hard-currency shops--often carry good selections of Soviet goods. Most Western hotels offer a variety of folk crafts. Don’t overlook the shops that line the Arbat, behind the wheeler-dealers who offer their wares on folding tables. Other streets to check out are Kuznetsky Most, Gorky, Petrovka and Stoleshnikov.

For a list of antiques, arts and crafts, jewelry, crystal and fur shops, a guide called “Moscow-Leningrad Handbook” by Masha Nordbye and published by Moon Publications can give you detailed information about shopping, as well as restaurants, hotels, sites, history and culture.