Friday, April 30, 2010

Exhibition Theme

“Good artists borrow. Great artists steal.” ~ Pablo Picasso
This exhibition examines the ways in which Russian artists have turned to previously created art as a source of inspiration and meaning for new works of art, conveying a contemporary and relevant sociopolitical message. The following groups of pieces were chosen for their interdependence and reliance upon established visual culture to express messages significant to the realm of Russian politics.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Simon Ushakov's "Virgin With Child" (Mid 16th Century) and Viktor Deni's "Village Virgin" (1919)



Russian religious icon art like Simon Ushakov’s “Virgin with Child” (mid sixteenth century), possessed great significance in Russian society. According to Tamara Machmut-Jhashi PhD, an assistant art history professor at Oakland University, “The term “icon” is used to convey the idea of representation, to denote an image that is usually widely recognized, or even revered… For Orthodox Christians, icons are painted images that have played a significant role in the theological and liturgical life of the Church...they are equal to the authority of the Gospels,”1. These images were recognized as having the power to ward off enemies, protect, and heal 1. While initially Ushakov’s work “Virgin with Child,” was questioned because of its nontraditional use of Western artistic styles, it was eventually lauded as an influential icon painting 1. This image not only impacted Russian religious life, but also served as inspiration for Bolshevik propaganda, with unique political implications.

In his image “Village Virgin” (1919), Viktor Deni replaced the figures in Ushakov’s “Virgin with Child” with influential leaders of the Bolshevik revolution. By replacing meaningful religious figures with the heads of Bolshevik leaders, Deni suggested that the Bolshevik leaders were powerful or even god-like. Icons were only made of holy individuals worthy of worship. According to Machmut-Jhashi, “For the Orthodox Believer, it is not the actual icon that is worshiped; rather, it is the person on whom that image is modeled who is venerated. The icon comes to function as a window, or screen, to the holy person depicted, to lead the believer into communion with the ‘divinely illumined’ personage represented,”1. These images therefore venerated the Bolshevik leaders and the beliefs they fostered. By relying on an image of religious power, Deni was able to create propaganda illustrating the political might of Bolshevism and the emerging government. Additionally, Deni’s “Village Virgin” also succeeded in deriding religion, which the Bolsheviks viewed as the opiate of the masses. The inclusion of political figures in a realm of art that should have been reserved for only holy subjects, detracted from the meaning of icons and traditional religious practices. The “Village Virgin” was the beginning to a, “deconstruction of faith,”2. Deni’s work also illustrates, “the dichotomy between the progressiveness of Bolshevik workers in contrast to the “backwardness” of traditional Russia,” 2. This contrast serves to mock and belittle Old Russian and the original Tsarist regime.

1. Machmut-Jhashi, Tamara. 2003. Between matter and spirit: russian icon painting. Meadow Brook Art Gallery: Oakland University
2. Rosenthal, Rachel. 2005. Visual fiction: the development of the secular icon in Stalinist poster art. Stanford’s Student Journal of Russian.1: 1-13.

Monday, April 26, 2010

"Bargehaulers on the Volga" by Ilya Repin (1870-1873) and "Give to Heavy Industry" by Yuri Pimenov (1926)



Ilya Repin’s “Bargehaulers on the Volga” (1870-1873), seen above, served as a model painting that inspired later works. Repin was considered Russia’s most loved artist or as Elizabeth Valkenier, a professor of art history and archaeology at Columbia University, referred to him, “a hallowed symbol of national art,”1. Along with his realist band of artists, Repin helped establish an official Russian art at a time when Russians were searching for a distinct artistic identity. Despite his claim that he painted exactly what he saw, Repin’s piece “Bargehaulers on the Volga” proved to be a controversial painting that catapulted the artist into a national conversation concerning the fate of Russia. According to Valkenier, “hardly anybody commented on its interesting diagonal composition, or its attempt to render the effects of light,”1. Instead, viewers tended to focus on the political interpretations of the prodigy’s painting. Overall, “Bargehaulers on the Volga” conveys hopelessness, desperation, and the extent of human misery experienced by members of the lower class. The most prominent figure in this image is the youthful individual in the center of the painting. This younger man is wearing a cross around his neck, appears to be displaying a Christian stigmata, and is lifting the belt off of his body. He is a Christ-like, youthful presence rising up in rebellion as the savior of the piece, and represents the hope for an improved future. Due to its contentious subject matter “Bargehaulers on the Volga” was a renowned, popularly discussed work of art.

As a result, this negative depiction of the state of Russia served as a model for Yuri Pimenov’s piece “Give to Heavy Industry” (1926), seen to the right. “Give to Heavy Industry” uses the image of “Bargehaulers on the Volga” in a modern factory setting. Instead of pulling a barge forward, the factory workers are consumed by a fire as they pull machinery. According to Karen A. McCauley, a professor at UCLA , “Give to Heavy Industry,” “depicts the struggle of industrialization using the device of montage to create a style and thematics distinctly reminiscent of constructivist and productionist art,”2. Pimenov relied on a modernist visual language and Repin’s well-known artistic masterpiece to enter a new, socially relevant conversation concerning the state of Russia in the 1900’s. In “Give to Heavy Industry” the individuals are expressionless and uniform in appearance. There is no Christ-like figure representing hope for a brighter future; as a result, Pimenov’s work conveys a sense of anguish and despondency. “Give to Heavy Industry” is modern, dark, and representative of Marxist estrangement and a sort of Stalinist Hell. This dissatisfaction with the state of Russian society is effectively expressed to viewers by applying Repin’s late 1800’s painting “Bargehauler’s on the Volga”, associated with human misery, to a new social context.


1. Valkenier, Elizabeth. 1978. Politics in Russian Art: The Case of Repin. Russian Review. 37 January
2. McCauley, Karen A. 1998. Production literature and the industrial imagination. The Slavic and East European Journal. 42 (3): 444-466.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

“They Did Not Expect Him” by Ilya Repin (1884) and “Low Marks Again” by Fedor Reshetnikov (1953)


Ilya Repin’s work “They Did Not Expect Him” (1884), seen above, is recognized as an exemplar of Russian art. Because of his status as a renowned Russian artist educated at the Academy, Repin was able to depict a politically contentious scene without offering a definitive interpretation. David F. Jackson writes, “It should be understood then that Repin’s ambivalent painting is never likely to give itself up to a simple explanation of any unitary meaning…Ironically then for this icon of the realist school and its once derided methodology of objective classification, the work’s interdisciplinary appeal and diversity of interpretive possibilities can now be regarded as its abiding appeal. Within postmodernist discourses the painting’s inherent ambiguity, its refusal to conform to the status of a sociological painted sermon but instead to offer a series of potential appraisals can rightly be praised,”1. The painting was created after the coronation of Alexander III and around the time many exiles were granted amnesty and permitted to return from Siberia 2. As a result, “They Did Not Expect Him,” depicts the return of an exile. As described earlier, the actual meaning of this painting is unclear. Elizabeth Valkenier, a professor of art history and archaeology at Columbia University, writes, “While Stasov claimed that the exile was a positive figure, someone ready to carry on, the conservatives were equally convinced that Repin ‘despite himself’ had painted a broken and repentant individual,”3. There is no way to develop a single narrative for this painting. Based on the lighting and layout of the painting, Valkenier attempts to offer a semblance of meaning by suggesting that the exile is symbolic of radical socialist politics in Russia and that he is a metaphor or allegorized image of Jesus 2;3. No matter the meaning, “They Did Not Expect Him,” was recognized as an exquisite example of critical realism and served as inspiration for later works.

For example, Fedor Reshetnikov’s “Low Marks Again” (1953), seen to the right, is simila
r in style and composition to “They Did Not Expect Him.” Much like the returning exile, a young boy returns home to share his misfortunes. The 1950’s in Russia were a part of the period known as “The Thaw,” which began in the aftermath of Stalin’s death. Socialist realist paintings that depicted the harsh realities of Russian life began to emerge. Instead of conveying a definitive political message, the style of “Low Marks Again” helps to illustrate the political history of the period. The ambiguities of “Low Marks Again,” and “They Did Not Expect Him” helped to provide more complete pictures of the entire spectrum of Russian political views in the 1950’s and 1880’s respectively. The two images parallel one another in style and composition and ultimately help illustrate the political histories of their corresponding time periods.

1. Jackson, David F. 1998. Inhoudsopgave. Pg. 371.
2. Valkenier, Elizabeth. 1993. The writer as artist’s model: Repin’s portrait of Garshin. Metropolitan Museum Journal. 28:207-216.
3. Valkenier, Elizabeth. 1978. Politics in Russian Art: The Case of Repin. Russian Review. 37 January.


Friday, April 23, 2010

“Monument to the Third International” by Vladimir Tatlin (1919-1924) and “Eiffel Tower” by Gustave Eiffel (1887-1889)

Vladimir Tatlin’s “Monument to the Third International,” (1919-1924), seen above, was a model for the headquarters of the International Communist Movement. After the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917, the government searched for artists to create appealing Bolshevik propaganda. Tatlin responded to this need with a design for the “Monument to the Third International”, an avant-garde piece intended to display Russian prowess and convey the force of the Revolution. The spiraling nature of the design gives the work an inherent dynamism and suggests a strong, Russian revitalization after the Revolution. According to Talin, “The spiral is the most effective symbol of the modern spirit of age: the spiral which rising from the earth, detaches itself from all animal, earthly and oppressing interests, and forms the purest expression of humanity set free by the Revolution,”1. Tatlin envisioned his creation as a reminder of Russian vigor, straddling the Neva River of St. Petersburg and standing twice as tall as the iconic Eiffel Tower. The monument met both aesthetic and practical demands. Floor one of the building was intended to be a grand revolving auditorium for meetings of the International Communist Movement, movie presentations, and parking; floor two of the monument was to house executive leaders; and floor three was to accommodate a telegraph press and radio station that would broadcast to all countries of Europe. Additionally, Tatlin planned to adorn the top of his monument with a projector used to project communist slogans onto the clouds. This constructivist project was modeled to serve the new Bolshevik regime led by Lenin and was a prime example of Utilitarian Architecture, which, according to John Bowlt, a professor of Slavic languages and literature at the University of Southern California, “relied on the functional harmony of purpose and design,”2. While the practical purposes of the “Monument to the Third International,” are clear, the source of the underlying sense of power conveyed by the design is slightly less perceptible. While the spiraling nature of the design is important, this piece also references and was inspired by the French Eiffel tower.

In the early 1900’s the Eiffel Tower was a powerful symbol of modernity and French might. The Eiffel Tower and “Monument to the Third International” were structurally analogous, both relying on similar girder styles and cross branching. While Tatlin did not rely on symmetry around a central axis, based on the appearance of the two designs it is clear that he was attempting to create a Russian version of the renowned French monument in order to convey a sense of Russian political might. Despite similar structural designs, the Eiffel Tower and “Monument to the Third International” were designed with slightly different purposes in mind. William Hutchings, a professor at the University of Alabama at Birmingham, writes “commissioned in 1919 as a monument to the revolution and new regime, Tatlin’s tower was to have been far larger and more obviously Utilitarian than the Eiffel Tower, which had been constructed twenty years earlier to commemorate the centenary of the French Revolution,”3. Overall, while Tatlin’s design and attempts to draw upon visual culture were admirable, his work was ultimately deemed too modern and ambiguous, and was never built. This failure came to be symbolic of the failed utopian aspirations of the Bolshevik regime.


1. Klotsky Beujour, Elizabeth and Zamiatin.1988. Zamiatin’s We and Modernist Architecture. The Russian Review: 47: 49-60.
2. Bowlt, John. Moscow and St. Petersburg 1900-1920, Chapter 2, pp. 67-97.
3. Hutchings, William. 1981-1982. Structure and design in a Soviet dystopia: H.G. Wells, contructivism, and Yevgeny Zamyatin’s “We”. Journal of Modern Literature. 9 (1): 97.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

“Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge” by Lissitzky (1919), “Books!” by Rodchenko (1923), and “Electrification of the Entire Country” by Klutsis (1920)

Definite parallels can be drawn among El Lissitzky’s “Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge” (1919), Alexander Rodchenko’s advertisement “Books!” (1923-1924), and Gustav Klutsis’s “Electrification of the entire Country”(1920). “Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge,” seen above, draws upon the visual language and symbolism established in communist Russia around the time of the Russian civil war. Relying on a well-known color scheme, Lissitzky’s work illustrates the supremacy of the “Reds”, communist revolutionaries, over the “Whites,” the monarchists and conservatives opposed to the Bolshevik revolution. Anthropologist John Gage writes “the political connotations of white were underlined by the civil war in Russia and exploited by El Lissitzky in his famous poster Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge,”1.The image of the red wedge penetrating the white circle is reminiscent of the Bolshevik invasion of the White Palace and suggests that communism is superior to the tsarist regime. While there is some text included in the image, “Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge,” does not depend on text to convey the power of the Bolsheviks, and is therefore appealing to both literate and illiterate viewers. The universality of “Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge” made it a popular piece of propaganda. As a result, other artists have embraced Lissitzky’s work as inspiration and a source of meaning for later advertisements.
Alexander Rodchenko’s “Books!” seen to the right, relies upon the basic image of “Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge” to give a positive connotation and power to the books the advertisement seeks to sell. In this image the wedge contains the word “Books” and thus visually links the power and initial success of the Bolsheviks to books and the potential power of knowledge. Instead of a white circle, in Rodchenko’s advertisement the circle contains a photograph of the artist’s wife Stepanova. While the overall advertisement seems to display Stepanova shouting the word “Books!”, understanding of Lissitzky’s earlier piece provides an extra dimension and potentially suggests that the books and knowledge associated with them are becoming a part of the woman. The visual parallels between “Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge” and “Books!” empower Rodchenko’s advertisement and give it a more profound meaning. Additionally, the red background and visual culture reference convey an underlying message of Soviet supremacy.

Gustav Klutsis’s “Electrification of the Entire Country” (1920) seen to the right, is also a visual analogue of the “Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge”. “Electrification of the Entire Country” is a photomontage of Lenin, holding an electricity piling and striding across the globe. According to Margaret Tupitsyn, “Electrification is centered around a circle and contains a photograph of a giant Lenin, who strides into the picture carrying a remarkable structure of metal scaffolding and architectural sections- a symbol of the technological modernization promised by the Bolshevik government,”2. Tupitsyn also explains that the piece, “constituted one of the earliest examples of the combination of an abstract composition with an overtly political message expressed through photography,” 3. At the time this image was created, photography was just becoming a more popular medium because it was allegedly more legible. Klutsis’s image was created in response to Lenin’s plan to provide electricity for all of Russia and parallels Lissitzky’s work by likening Lenin to the red wedge, driving electricity into the world. While the reference to “Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge” helps portray Lenin as a powerful and influential being, there is also a satirical element to this work. Because Lenin’s plan to provide electricity to all of Russia was not entirely successful and Klutsis’s use of photomontage over dramatically portrays Lenin as a pioneer or innovator, “Electrification of the entire Country” could also be mocking the Bolshevik leader.


1. Gage, John. 1988. Black and white and red all over. Anthropology and Aesthetics. 16: 51-53.
2. Tupitsyn, Margarita. Jan. 1991. Gustav Klutsis: Between Art and Politics. Art in America. 79 (1): 41-45.
3. Tupitsyn, Margaret. The Soviet Photograph, 1924-1937. Yale University Press. New Haven: 1996. Pg. 11.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

“Quotation” by Komar and Melamid (1972) and “Long live our glorious Motherland, the Union of the Soviet Socialist Republics!” by Viktorov (1948)

Vitaly Komar and Alexander Melamid’s “Quotation” (1972) seen in the top left hand corner, was inspired by the multitudes of communist propaganda leaflets and posters, similar to V. Viktorov’s poster “Long live our glorious Motherland, the Union of the Soviet Socialist Republics!" (1948) (Left), that were seen in the streets of Moscow. As explained by Victoria Bonnell in her book Iconography and Power, “through mass propaganda, the Bolsheviks sought to establish hegemony of their interpretation of the past, present, and future- their own master narrative- and to inculcate among the population new categories for interpreting the world around them,”1. However, instead of embracing this strategy and using hackneyed slogans like “Onward to the victory of communism,” “Glory to labor,” or “Long live our glorious motherland”, Komar and Melamid painted white quotations and small squares on a red canvas. The artists relied on the established visual language of communist propaganda to make a more profound statement concerning the entire practice of advertising. Their calculated omission of text not only mocks Soviet propaganda and slogans, but also points to the absence of meaning and the desensitization of the Russian people. Through their Sots art piece “Quotation” and references to Soviet advertisements, Komar and Melamid underscored the idea that communist goals and messages had become so internalized and so much a part of the Russian subconscious that there had been an evacuation of meaning and Soviet propaganda had become vacuous. Similarly, Allison Leigh-Pearlman, an art history PhD candidate at Rutgers University, writes, “Quotation not only recalls the constant barrage of political propaganda and satirizes the meaninglessness of such slogans by emptying them of actual text, but mimics the vagueness of memory itself. The distance from detail created by time leaves only an impression of the red banner with white letters. But the actual words and the meaning behind them are too distant to recall,”2. Rather than absorbing the true meaning of the propaganda, viewers were only left with a vague memory of the image. Additionally, just as “Quotation” highlights the inadequacies of propaganda, it also toys with the notion of text as disconnected from lived experience and reality. Where the typical communist advertisement had an inspirational slogan, “Quotation” merely has empty boxes that accentuate the insincerity and emptiness of communist messages. The piece leaves the viewer with unanswered questions and demonstrates that there is no clear solution to Russia’s dilemmas.

A later painting by Ilya Kabakov titled “Food Store” (1981) builds off of several of the themes Komar and Melamid grapple with in “Quotation”. “Food Store” lists the food contents of a market and simultaneously depicts the market as crowded and empty. Through this work Kabakov plays with verbal codes and expounds upon the disconnect between text and lived experience that is illustrated in “Quotation”. While the text of “Food Store” suggests that food supplies are plentiful, the actual image displays glum Soviet customers and empty food counters. This juxtaposition of abundance and scarcity illustrates the hollowness of text and communist promises for a bright future.

1. Bonell, Victoria. Iconography and Power. Chapter 2.
2. Leigh-Pearlman, Allison. Future ruins: time, memory, and history in the work of Komar and Melamid. Rutgers University.

Monday, April 19, 2010

“Untitled (Blumen)” by Anatoly Zverev (1983)

Anatoly Zverev was among many artists who were born into Russia during Stalin’s reign, and as an effect, experienced a limited exposure to different art forms. Zverev and others like him understood art only in the form of Social Realism, and reacted excitedly to their exposure to a variety of foreign and domestic art forms post-Stalin. After Stalin’s death, “The USSR Ministry of Culture, established in 1953 to take over the responsibilities of the Arts Committee…, which had overseen the Stalinist purges of ‘formalism,’…”, under the leadership of Nikita Khrushchev, began to not only allow the reentrance of western influence, but also actively facilitate reform by organizing exhibitions of art that had been suppressed for decades1. These reforms were somewhat short lived, occurring during what is called the Krushchev Thaw. Many artists of Russia were moved by the art of their western and domestic predecessors. Zverev took particular interest in tachism and abstract expressionism.
Anatoly Zverev’s “’Untitled’(Flowers)”, (1983), seen above, shows definite resemblance to Pollock’s early work, such as “Untitled” (1942-1944) (Right), before Pollock began taking away representational objects. The choice and balance in the two paintings are virtually analogous to each other. Also, both paintings incorporate splatters throughout the entire canvas, creating a chaotic backdrop. The most easily discernable part of Pollock’s piece is the abstract figure toward the top right corner. Similarly, in Zverev’s painting, the most easily read items are the numbers ‘8’ and ‘3’ along with the letter ‘A’ placed in the top left corner, possibly referencing his first initial and the year the painting was made. The flower arrangement is also not hard to make out, especially given the title. Other paintings by Zverev also feature every day objects, such as flowers, non-heroic faces, and animals. These images could be in response to decades of being saturated with iconic images typical of the Stalin era. Additionally, the obscurity of his subjects works to emphasize the value of the formal qualities of his painting, such as the chaotic composition and the resulting sensations.
Zverev also emphasized speed in the making of his paintings. He increased the value of and reduced the time it took to produce a visual image or message. Susan E. Reid writes, “At the festival studio in Gor’kii Park, Zverev produced a drip painting in one hour before an audience of admiring foreigners. The international jury, chaired by David Siqueiros, awarded him a gold medal for this work,”1.

1."Toward a New (Socialist) Realism." Russian Art and the West: a Century of Dialogue in Painting, Architecture, and the Decorative Arts. Ed. Rosalind P. Blakesley and Susan Emily. Reid. DeKalb, Ill.: Northern Illinois UP, 2007. 217-39. Print.