Music from the era of Alexander III will be performed in the Presidential Library. Russian avant-garde in architecture

The Russian engineering school was technologically advanced and gave the world many inventions in the fields of mechanical engineering, energy, aeronautics, radio, and construction at the beginning of the 20th century. Traditional Russian maximalism, clearly manifested in the “Itinerants” and “sixties” movements of the nineteenth century, was only strengthened by the Russian revolution and led to the fact that Soviet Russia became the birthplace of avant-garde art. Held in 1992-1993. in the USA, Western Europe and Moscow, an exhibition of Russian avant-garde 1915-1932. was called the “Great Utopia”. As it is said in the preface to the exhibition catalogue, “utopia moved the history of Russia and contained a discrepancy with reality,” therefore it is impossible to unambiguously evaluate such a complex phenomenon. The ideology of avant-gardeism carries within itself a destructive force. In 1910, according to Berdyaev, a “hooligan generation” was growing up in Russia. Aggressive youth, mostly consisting of ideologically convinced and selfless nihilists, set the goal of their lives to destroy all cultural values, which could not but cause concern among cultured and sensible people.” However, avant-gardeism has always had another, commercial side. Conscious disregard for school and the complexity of the visual form is the easiest way, attracting those who like to fool simpletons, an insufficiently cultured public, poorly educated critics and ignorant patrons of the arts with great profit for themselves. Indeed, in order to fully understand the inner emptiness of avant-gardeism, considerable “visual experience” is needed. The more elementary the art, the more meaningful it seems to the inexperienced viewer. In our country, at the stage of design formation, formative processes took place in extremely unique specific historical conditions. The main thing is a breakthrough into the new, which combined innovative searches, both general stylistic and social, which gave the process of formation of Soviet design a number of features that fundamentally distinguished it from the processes of design formation in other countries. In Western Europe, the formation of design in the first third of the twentieth century was stimulated primarily by the desire of industrial firms to increase the competitiveness of their products in world markets. In Russia, before the revolution, such an order from industry had not yet been formed. It was not there in the first post-revolutionary years. The industry was in such a state that design issues were not a priority. In our country, the main impetus for the development of design was not industry. This movement originated outside the industrial sphere. On the one hand, it relied on left-wing artists, and on the other, on theorists (historians and art critics). Therefore, industrial art had a pronounced social and artistic character. The producers, as if on behalf of and on behalf of the new society, formulated the social order of industry. Moreover, this social order was largely of an agitational and ideological nature. The spheres of application of the nascent design were: festive decoration, posters, advertising, book products, exhibition design, theater, etc. This predetermined the active participation in it, primarily of artists, in the first five years (1917-1922). In the next decade of development of Soviet design (1922-1932), socio-typological and functional-constructive problems became increasingly important. The processes of restructuring everyday life and the formation of socially new types of buildings have formulated a new social order not only in architectural and construction matters, but also in the field of interior equipment. Among the pioneers of Soviet design, those who became involved in the process of formation of industrial art in the first fifteen years after the October Revolution, three generations can be roughly distinguished. Artists of the first generation, as a rule, received a systematic artistic education even before the revolution and actively participated in the formation and development of left-wing movements in fine art. One of the important features of the formation stage of Soviet design was that in this type of creativity in those years there were almost no artists who could be considered only designers. These are V. Tatlin, K. Malevich, A. Rodchenko, A. Vesnin, L. Popova, A. Lavinsky, L. Lisitsky, A. Ekster, V. Stepanova, G. Klutsis, A. Gan and others. Pioneers of Soviet design the second generation are those who (due to age or other reasons) did not have time to receive a systematic art education before the revolution. Many of them did not have sufficient professional skills; they had practically nothing to give up in their creativity. Insufficient artistic professionalization while focusing on visual invention was characteristic of the second generation of pioneers of Soviet design. Many of them, in fact, have never been professional artists or sculptors. However, it was they who bore the brunt of mass practical work. If their older comrades in the 30s, that is, after the ideas of industrial art lost popularity, returned to their former profession, then these design artists had nowhere to go - they remained working in the field of artistic design.

12. Bauhaus - the first school of design.

In 1919, the Bauhaus (literally “Building House”), the first educational institution designed to train artists for work in industry, was created in the small German city of Weimar. The school, according to its organizers, was supposed to produce comprehensively developed people who would combine artistic, spiritual and creative capabilities. Previous art schools did not go beyond the boundaries of craft production. The Bauhaus was headed by its organizer, the progressive German architect Walter Gropius, a student of Peter Behrens. In a short time, Bauhaus became a true methodological center in the field of design. Among his professors were the greatest cultural figures of the early 20th century: architects Mies van der Rohe, Hannes Mayer, Marcel Breuer, artists Wassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee, Lionel Feninger, Piet Mondrian.

The beginning of the Bauhaus' activity was influenced by utopian ideas about the possibility of reorganizing society by creating a harmonious subject environment. Architecture was considered as a “prototype of social coherence” and was recognized as the beginning that unites art, craft and technology. From the first year, students studied in a specific specialization (ceramics, furniture, textiles, etc.). Training was divided into technical training and artistic training. Practicing a craft in the workshop of the institute was considered necessary for a future designer, because only by making a sample (or standard) could a student feel the object as a certain integrity and, while doing this work, control himself. Bypassing direct communication with the object, the future artist-designer could become a victim of one-sided limited “machinism,” since modern production divides the process of creating a thing into separate operations. But, unlike a traditional vocational school, the Bauhaus student did not work on a single subject, but on a standard for industrial production.

It goes without saying that the Bauhaus products bore a tangible imprint of painting, graphics and sculpture of the 20s, with a passion for cubism characteristic of that time, the decomposition of the general form of an object into its constituent geometric forms. The samples made within the walls of the school are distinguished by the energetic rhythm of lines and spots, and the pure geometricism of objects made of wood and metal. Teapots, for example, could be composed of a shooting range, a truncated cone, a semicircle, and in another version - from a semicircle, hemisphere and cylinders. All transitions from one form to another are extremely naked, nowhere can one find a desire to soften them, all this is emphasized in contrast and sharpened. The fluidity of the silhouette can be seen in ceramic products, but this is an expression of the properties of the material - baked clay. How amorphous would the objects of Art Nouveau times seem in comparison! But the main difference between them is not even in the comparison of the energy of Bauhaus things with the deliberate lethargy of modernity. "Bauhaus" looked for the constructiveness of a thing, emphasized it, revealed it, and sometimes exaggerated it where, it would seem, it was not easy to find (in dishes, for example). An intense search for new design solutions, sometimes unexpected and daring, was especially typical in furniture production: many designs were born at the Bauhaus that made a genuine revolution (Ritfeld's wooden chairs, Marcel Breuer's metal-based seats, and much more). The technical training of students was supported by the study of machine tools, metal processing technology and other materials. In general, extremely great importance was attached to the study of materials, since the truthfulness of the use of this or that material was one of the foundations of the aesthetic program of the Bauhaus. The very principle of artistic preparation was also innovative. In previous schools, the teaching of painting, drawing, and sculpture, according to a long tradition, was passive in nature and mastery of the skill took place in a process that almost excluded the analysis of nature. The Bauhaus believed that mere mastery of skill was not enough to attract the plastic arts to the service of industry. Therefore, in addition to the usual sketches from nature and technical drawing, all courses involved continuous experimentation, during which students studied the laws of rhythm, harmony, and proportion (as counterpoint, harmony, and instrumentation are studied in music). Students mastered all the subtleties of perception, shape formation and color combinations. Bauhaus became a true laboratory for architecture and industrial design. The evolution of the Bauhaus is very interesting. Founded by combining the Weimar Academy of Arts and the Van de Velde School, it initially continued some of their traditions. Over time, the influence of their predecessors was lost. Important in this regard was the gradual abolition of such “man-made” craft specialties as sculpture, ceramics, glass painting, and a greater approach to the requirements of industry and life. Instead of carved furniture, models for mass production began to emerge from the walls of the Bauhaus, in particular samples of M. Breuer's seats. An important milestone in the history of the Bauhaus was the move of the school from quiet patriarchal Weimar to the industrial city of Dessau. Here, according to the design of Gropius himself, a remarkable special educational building, included in the golden fund of world architecture, was built, combining classrooms, workshops, student dormitories, and professors' quarters. This building was in every way a manifesto of a new architecture - reasonable and functional.

The interior furnishings of Gropius's own apartment, designed by himself together with Breuer, were, in their democratic basis, a model of the progressive home of the future. It was distinguished by amazing modesty, convenience, and in many ways anticipated the main trends in the construction of domestic space with its spaciousness, abundance of air, and lack of cabinet furniture. Not only the overall solution is noteworthy, but also individual interior details - lamps, kitchen furniture units and much more.

The metal department designed samples for a local factory; Samples of wallpaper and upholstery fabrics created at the institute served as the basis for factory production of mass products. In the last years of the Bauhaus, when Hannes Mayer became its leader, the theoretical training of students especially increased. To study the demands of the mass consumer, in order to know his needs, to comprehend his tastes, sociology and economics were studied. To understand the production process, students had to go directly through all its stages. This method of study allowed them to comprehensively master the influence of the external form of an object, the peculiarities of the perception of form, texture, color, and get acquainted with optics, color science, and physiology. The time when an artist could rely only on intuition and personal experience, as the leaders of the Bauhaus believed, is gone forever; the student was formed as a comprehensively developed creative personality. The progressiveness of the Bauhaus and the progressive views of its professors aroused discontent among local authorities. In 1930, Mayer was removed from the leadership of the institute. The remarkable architect Mies van der Rohe becomes the head of the Bauhaus, but the Bauhaus does not have long to exist. Immediately after the Nazis came to power in 1933, it was liquidated. Most of the Bauhaus leaders, including Gropius, Mies van der Rohe, Moholi Nagy, are leaving the country forever. The importance of Bauhaus is difficult to overestimate. It was not only an example of organizing training for designers, but also a genuine scientific laboratory for architecture and artistic design. Methodological developments in the field of artistic perception, shape formation, and color science formed the basis of many theoretical works and have not yet lost their scientific value.

VANGUARD- a conventional name for various artistic movements in the art of the 20th century, which are characterized by the desire for a radical change in the principles and traditions of artistic practice - cubism, futurism, expressionism, Dadaism, surrealism, abstract art, analytical art, Rayonism, constructivism, cubo-futurism, Suprematism, conceptualism , postmodernism, etc. Avant-gardists strive for new means of expression and forms of works.

The artist developed provisions about the “seeing eye” and the “knowing eye.” The first of them is in charge of conveying form and color, with the help of the second, the “knowing eye,” the artist, relying on intuition, reproduces invisible, hidden processes. Here is how Filonov writes about it: “Everyone sees from a certain angle of view, on the one hand and to a certain extent, either the back or the face of an object, always part of what he is looking at - the most keen seeing eye does not go further than this, but the knowing one the eye of a researcher-inventor - a master of analytical art - strives for an exhaustive vision, as far as this is possible for a person; he looks with his analysis and brain and sees with it where the artist’s eye does not reach at all. So, for example, seeing only the trunk, branches, leaves and flowers, say, of an apple tree, at the same time know or, by analyzing, strive to find out how the soil juices are taken and absorbed by the tendrils of the roots, how these juices run upward through the cells of the wood, how they distributed in constant reaction to light and heat, processed and transformed into the atomistic structure of the trunk and branches, into green leaves, into white and red flowers, into green-yellow-pink apples and into the rough bark of a tree. This is what should interest the master, and not the appearance of the apple tree. The trousers, boots, jacket or face of a person are not as interesting as the phenomenon of thinking with its processes in the head of this person is interesting.”

Kovtun E.F. “From the history of the Russian avant-garde” (P.N. Filonov) // Yearbook of the manuscript department of the Pushkin House. 1977. L., 1979. P. 216

Kovtun E.F. Brief explanation of the exhibited works, 1928 // Filonov P.N. Painting. Graphics: from the collection of the State Russian Museum: exhibition catalogue. L., 1988. P. 108

The changing face of the world and the formation of a new paradigm for the socio-cultural development of Russia in the 20s of the 20th century led to new trends in all areas of human life. A radical restructuring of the ideological principles on which society was based required a rebirth of artistic thought. The response to the challenge of new times was the selection of Malevich and Tatlin from the background of other figures, who formed the basic principles. , revealing the attraction to simple geometric designs and color freedom, and Tatlin’s counter-reliefs, which reflected the constructive possibility of combining several materials (glass, metal, wood) in one product, became catalysts for the transformation of the language of architecture, in the depths of which a new style was born - the avant-garde.

Traits and principles of the architectural avant-garde

Russian architecture of the early 20th century became a fruitful environment in which aspirations to go beyond traditional thinking and familiar space began to mature. The innovators of that time - Kuznetsov, Loleit, Shukhov - in their creations largely anticipated subsequent achievements. The tower of the Comintern radio station named after Vladimir Shukhov is rightfully considered one of the first buildings in the avant-garde style and an expressive indicator of the onset of the era of experiments and artistic nihilism, which announced that modern architecture was at the forefront.
Subsequently, the emerging ideas of social equality, the socialization of everyday life, and changes in industrial canons required a deeper and more thorough revision of the existing architectural postulates.

Three basic principles came first:

• feasibility and practicality of structures. The buildings erected were supposed to serve utilitarian purposes, organize people's lives in accordance with their needs, and create comfortable conditions for work and life.
• exposing the true form of the architectural shell. The design of the interior space set the functional and aesthetic image of the exterior.
• asceticism of designs and naturalness of materials. The principle of “art for art’s sake” was no longer relevant. The artistic and utilitarian meaning was expressed in the creation of a “pure” composition, devoid of attributive veiling.

The main features of the avant-garde in architecture were:

• rigor and conciseness of forms,
• simplicity and consistency of appearance.

The ideological protagonists actively experimented with materials: new horizons were opened in the use of tiles, metal mesh, glass and wood. An understanding of the role of the architect as an organizer and creator, and not as a decorator of the environment, was formed. There was a rethinking of traditional tools: space (and not matter) began to be perceived as a field for creativity. Not individual needs came to the fore, but social ones (the focus was on the masses), which was reflected in the buildings characteristic of that time: factories-kitchens, workers' clubs, houses - communes.

Irina Vakar

1917 and artists: new aspects of the theme

It is customary for poets to test reality: lived in such and such an era, saw such and such events... - how did you survive? How did you respond? Isn’t it better to test modernity with poetry: what is genuine? what nonsense?

M. Voloshin

Those who remember the artistic life of the Soviet years are familiar with the melancholy feeling that arose—by inertia continues to arise today—at the mere mention of 1917, regardless of one’s attitude toward this undeniably significant historical date. Dusty files of magazines immediately appear before your eyes, and every year ending in seven is filled with obligatory reports on anniversary exhibitions; dim illustrations flash images of Petrograd at night, Zimny ​​and the Aurora, running sailors and soldiers, Lenin on a podium or an armored car, Lunacharsky with the constant attributes of an intellectual: a beard and pince-nez. Today all this is a thing of the distant past. The iconographic approach to the theme of revolution was replaced by another, which has also largely exhausted itself; it can be conditionally designated “revolution and avant-garde.”

In the years when the Russian avant-garde became a frequent guest of foreign exhibitions, both Soviet and Western curators found it tempting to connect this artistic phenomenon with a revolutionary impulse 1 .

1 See: Bessonova M.A. Is it possible to do without the term “avant-garde”? // Art history, 1998. No. 2. P. 478-483.

The foreign viewer thus received a convincing explanation of the genesis of this phenomenon, its incredible creative activity and original forms that have no analogues in the West. As for domestic specialists, they took advantage of the favorable situation to legitimize the avant-garde in the conditions of its ban in their homeland. Over the past 30-40 years, the works of Russian innovators have traveled to many countries and continue to enjoy success, although in recent years the thematic perspective of exhibitions has become sharper, and titles like “Revolutionary Art” or “Art and Revolution” have been replaced by more intricate ones: “Sisters of the Revolution” (about female artists 1910-1920s) or “Love in the Age of Revolution” (about married couples of avant-garde artists). Following the avant-garde, the new figurative art of the 1920s (projectionism, OST), and even socialist realism, is strung onto the core of the same concept; These sharply different in spirit and style, opposing each other, directions in Western consciousness form a single series, designed to demonstrate the “special path” of Russian culture in the twentieth century.

Today, such an approach to this problem no longer seems productive. After all, in real history everything was much more complicated. Although the Russian avant-garde formed and flourished in a short period marked by powerful social explosions in 1905 and 1917, there is no causal connection between these events. The distant and indirect relationship of the two “avant-gardes”, political and artistic, strictly speaking, has not only not been established, but has not been seriously studied. And this is just one aspect of the problem. The other one is no less important.

As is known, the art of the period under review was not at all limited to radical trends: back in 1910 A.N. Benoit divided it into vanguard, center and rearguard. Along with the “extremists”, both traditionalists and “aged” innovators of former times created art; simultaneously with V.E. Tatlin and K.S. Malevich - I.E. Repin, K.A. Korovin, K.A. Somov, younger P.P. Konchalovsky, P.V. Kuznetsov, A.E. Yakovlev and many other equally remarkable masters. And around them stretched an endless sea of ​​professionals of a completely different type - the creators of mass culture. Today their names are almost forgotten, but at that time they were well-known, the press wrote about them, their products flooded exhibition halls and were readily sold out. But no matter how different the creative attitudes of serious, seeking masters and creators of commercial art may be, they were united in one thing: in their reluctance to write war and revolution - both to glorify them and to curse them. And this conclusion seems unexpected; we are only coming to it now.

It is generally accepted that in an era of historical cataclysms, art is either silent or somehow responds to what is happening: the air of time cannot help but penetrate the cells of the artistic organism. But in Russia at the beginning of the twentieth century the situation looked different. The Russian Revolution - for all its scale - did not give rise to either the "Oath of the Horatii", or "The Death of Marat", or "Freedom on the Barricades", 2 or the terrible fantasies of Goya, or the gloomy documents of Daumier.

2 J.L. David “The Oath of the Horatii” (1784), “The Death of Marat” (1793); E. Delacroix “Freedom on the Barricades” (1830). All - Louvre, Paris.

There were no bright, artistically significant responses to current political events either in 1917 or 1918, although these events themselves undoubtedly worried artists. It is no coincidence that in the most thorough publications of the Soviet period devoted to this topic 3, the center of gravity was transferred from creative issues to the description of artistic life: the activities of associations, exhibitions, the participation of artists in two revolutions, their work in the Soviets and the People's Commissariat for Education, the design of festivals and the fulfillment of other orders of the new authorities.

3 See, for example: Lapshin V.P. Artistic life of Moscow and Petrograd in 1917. M., 1983.

The lack of masterpieces inspired by the Bolshevik revolution put Soviet art historians in an awkward position. In the Tretyakov Gallery, for example, the exhibition of the Soviet section was opened by Arkady Rylov’s painting “In the Blue Expanse” (1918) - the only work that could, albeit with some stretch, be presented as a response (and a positive one) to the October Revolution; others were simply impossible to find. But supporters of the avant-garde + revolution combination are also forced to slightly falsify the facts: after all, the main artistic discoveries of the Russian avant-garde were made before 1917. What marked the revolutionary period itself? Is it really true that over the course of several key years for the future of Russia, artists did not create anything worthy of becoming an important testimony of the time?

No, the artists did not fall silent, immersed in everyday worries, and did not lose their taste for work. In the midst of revolutionary unrest, with the rapid change of rulers, political programs, military reports, rumors, public sentiment, with famine and devastation inevitably approaching, they continued to write. And while the majority tried to use art to feed themselves or take a break from the “horrors of life,” some individuals still solved creative problems. At first glance, what they created in 1917-1918 has nothing to do with revolutionary themes, and this is the main intrigue. It was in the works of a few selected masters, thinking, charged with a dream of a wonderful future, that the peculiarity of this stage of Russian (and world) art was revealed, which preferred myth-making, the creation of utopias to the reflection of life, in order to then model and build a new reality on their basis.

This article will focus primarily on painters, whose creative individuality and social position were already completely defined by 1917. Naturally, they generally continued to do in art what they had started in previous years. But there were also nuances. For some, the revolutionary year became a time of summing up, for others - searches and discoveries, for others - a period of crisis; and for almost everyone - an important milestone in life and art. By highlighting works created in 1917, we do not strive for chronological rigor, since not all works have an exact dating. In addition, the end of 1917 and most of 1918, which included the comprehension of the revolution that had taken place, essentially constituted a single stage in the development of public consciousness in Russia. When choosing names and works, we proceed from the “presumption of artistry”, and not from the political orientation of the master - this is the only way to take a reasonable position in the “civil war” of trends, groupings, principles and declarations, which reached no less fierceness in the field of art than in real life. battles

* * *

In the memoirs of M.V. Nesterov, two events at the end of 1916 follow directly one after the other: “At Christmas, I showed the completed large painting to my loved ones.<…>The opinion was that the “Soul of the People” was significantly higher than “Holy Rus'”.

Mikhail Nesterov. Self-portrait. 1915. Wood, oil. timing belt

Mikhail Nesterov. In Rus' (Soul of the People). 1914-1916. Canvas, oil. Tretyakov Gallery

At the end of December, an event occurred in St. Petersburg, as if a signal for further events, which were not long in coming. Rasputin was killed. So much has been said about this Satanist, the evil he caused to Russia is so enormous that there is no desire to add anything else.” 4

4 Nesterov M.V. Memoirs / Comp. A.A. Rusakova. M., 1989. P. 390.

It would seem that there is no connection between these records. And yet their proximity is significant. Although the painting “In Rus' (Soul of the People)” was thought about for many years, and the sensational murder was prepared for a little over a month, the coincidence of dates seems to be an important symptom of the historical moment. Both actions, political and artistic, had essentially the same direction and became heroic attempts to reverse the historical movement. The monarchist conspirators set out to “save” Russia by cleansing it of the filth into which it had plunged; it was a gesture of despair and hope. Nesterov experienced something similar. He admitted that he passionately wanted to swim “against the tide”: “... for me, as an artist, as a witness and observer of phenomena rushing violently in front of me, it would be more appropriate to sit on the shore, calmly, thoughtfully recording these phenomena in my album... And I, Prompted by some kind of power, but without sufficient strength, I strain myself in the fight against this damned current. And in my mind, theoretically, sometimes I’m ready to… “raise the torch and set the city on fire.” For this “city” sometimes seems to me worthy of the terrible fate of Sodom” 5.

5 Nesterov M.V. Letters. Favorites / Join Art., comp., comment. A.A. Rusakova. L., 1988. P. 224.

This is an unexpected recognition from the lips of an artist who has spent his entire life singing contemplative peace, “quiet thoughts,” and harmonious unity with the world and God. But let us remember that Nesterov was a student of Vasily Perov, the most striking exposer of the social evils of Russian life, “its bitterness, passions and ugliness.” Nesterov did not follow his path, but internally shared the pain from the awareness of the untruth reigning in the world. “The other day I saw the long-awaited “Gathering” by S. Korovin,” he writes in 1893, having completed the painting “The Youth of St. Sergius.” -...This thing is wonderful...It shows the world of God as it is. This is diametrically opposed to mine. This is something like “The Power of Darkness” by L. Tolstoy” 6.

6 Ibid. P. 101.

Possessing a great public temperament, Nesterov always closely followed political events; He was very upset by Russia’s defeat in the war with Japan, and assessed the reign of Nicholas II as “extremely unsuccessful (hardly deliberately criminal),” stating that it completely “undermined the monarchical idea” 7 .

7 Nesterov M.V. “I continue to believe in the triumph of Russian ideals.” Letters to A.V. Zhirkevich / Intro. art., publ. and comment. N.G. Podleskikh // Our heritage. 1990. No. 15. P. 21.

Nesterov chose a creative way to combat modern sodom, different from the traditions of ideological realism. Over the course of many years, he consistently and persistently contrasted the “power of darkness” with the inner content of the life of the people, “following the paths... of seeking God” 8 .

8 Nesterov M.V. Letters. Favorites. P. 361.

And the picture, which Nesterov considered his main, final one, was supposed to embody his unshakable faith in this basis for the life of “Christians” (one of the original titles of the picture) and at the same time show his contemporaries the way to overcome the impasse in which, according to everyone, Russia found itself on the eve of 1917 of the year.

The genre of the painting is unusual. I would like to call it an artistic utopia, but not in the literal sense of the word: before us is not “a place that does not exist,” but, on the contrary, a generalized but recognizable Russian landscape (according to the author, the Volga region). Unreality arises from a kind of diachrony: people, living and dead, and fictional, legendary characters coexist in the same space. This is not uncommon in the art of the 20th century: let us remember the group portrait of the surrealists in the company of Raphael and Dostoevsky 9 .

9 The same technique can be seen on the canvases of I.S. Glazunov, who also borrows some stylistic features of Nesterov’s painting. This often leads to a paradoxical effect: Nesterov’s painting is perceived as similar to Glazunov’s works. Another prejudice that prevents an objective assessment of the painting “In Rus' (Soul of the People),” in my opinion, is that it is seen as a product of official autocratic-Orthodox thinking, which is essentially the opposite of Nesterov’s plan.

Nesterov himself had already used this technique in the film “Holy Rus'”, surrounding the figure of Christ with contemporary Russians, but there it looked like an overt convention, reminiscent of the effect of a Christmas fairy tale. Here, placing ancient characters in the background and bringing forward recognizable faces (Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Solovyov) and situations (a blind soldier - a victim of a German gas attack), the artist achieves the impression of a gradual penetration into the depths of centuries, a movement from the visible and topical - to something that lives only in imagination, but is no less real for the author.

Realizing that the idea of ​​the picture would seem to many not to correspond to the spirit of the times, Nesterov explained the appearance of the figure of the king on it: “...“The Tsar” is understood by me as the bearer of a religious idea... he assimilates the idea of ​​​​the religious principle of his power - service to his people. The idea, of course, is not new, but the only one that has a future... Our idea is Russian - which can also be universal” 10.

10 Nesterov M.V. “I continue to believe in the triumph of Russian ideals.” P. 21.

Note that already in the spatial solution there is something that interferes with the dogmatic understanding of autocracy: the king is not the center of the composition, he is not elevated, he does not dominate the crowd, just as none of the figures dominates them. Moreover, the soul of the people is embodied to the greatest extent in those who are brought to the fore, close to the viewer: these are the soldier and the sister of mercy leading him, the nun, the artist-thinkers and, of course, the youth walking in front of the crowd, associatively connecting this final canvas Nesterov with his early masterpiece.

The restraint of intonation, the calm, measured flow of Nesterov’s crowd should not mislead the viewer: there is no lyricism and benevolence characteristic of the artist here. Nesterov's biographer, philosopher S.N. Durylin revealed the meaning of the picture in this way: “The path... is long, difficult, flinty, but nothing confirms that it will end with the acquisition of what this sternly calm and at the same time, tragic crowd is looking for.

“Unless you become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.”<…>

And if they, these Russian people... cannot be “like children”... what then will be the end of their life and historical path?

Based on the images of the picture (and they contain the artist’s thought), there can be only one answer: “you will not enter the kingdom of heaven,” you will not find truth and beauty.

The answer is truly tragic. Based on it, it becomes clear that Nesterov created the tragedy of the “soul of the Russian people”” 11.

11 Durylin S.N. Nesterov in life and work. M., 1976. S. 291-292.

Having finished the work, the artist was in no hurry to find out the opinions of his colleagues and critics. First of all, he showed the picture to his acquaintances from the Religious and Philosophical Society. Nesterov was one of the few painters who were seriously interested in modern philosophy, followed literature, communicated with prominent representatives of philosophical thought, among whom he especially appreciated V.V. Rozanova. Obviously, the artist was more interested in the response to the idea of ​​the painting than in evaluating its implementation. And criticism of the formal solution was not long in coming: the work was found not monumental enough (according to S.T. Konenkov, its size did not correspond to the scale of the plan). A difficult fate awaited the painting “In Rus' (Soul of the People)” in the future: it was first shown to viewers only in 1962, and settled in the permanent exhibition of the Tretyakov Gallery in the 1990s, and its appearance, as far as can be judged, did not cause much of an audience response .

The reason most likely lies in the “heart failure” of this undoubtedly serious and significant work. It lacks the directly effective, impressive power, the attractiveness that marked the best of Nester’s creations. How can we explain this? You can analyze the compositional, pictorial and other advantages and disadvantages of the picture as much as you like, reflect on belated symbolism or excessive rationality of the decision. But another explanation is also possible.

I think the idea itself turned out to be illusory, and subsequent historical events highlighted its vulnerability. Although a modern researcher calls the author of “In Rus'” a “brilliant seer” 12, it is difficult to agree with this statement.

12 Khasanova E.V. The latest religious and philosophical works of M.V. Nesterov of the Soviet period // Russian art: XX century: research and publications / Responsible. ed. G.F. Kovalenko. M., 2008. T. 2. P. 392.

It is refuted by the words of the artist himself, who essentially experienced the collapse of his worldview at the end of 1917: “All life, thoughts, feelings, hopes, dreams seem to have been crossed out, trampled upon, desecrated. Great, dear to us, dear and understandable Russia has passed away. It was replaced in a few months. From its intelligent, gifted, proud people, something fantastic, barbaric, dirty and low remained...” 13

13 Nesterov M.V. “I continue to believe in the triumph of Russian ideals.” pp. 21-22.

If in his young years Nesterov clearly distinguished the external side of the life of the people and the ideal image of their soul, now in the artist’s mind faith in the ideal prevailed over the sense of reality. Previously, in his paintings, “the world of God as it is” was opposed by loners, people “not of this world”; Now Nesterov is trying to spread “otherworldliness” to the masses, the crowd, but this artificial operation does not give a convincing result. An attempt to overcome the fatal antinomy of the image of a people, its dual nature through mythologization turns out to be futile.

It should be noted that as revolutionary events developed, the problematics of the picture became increasingly acute. A.N. Benoit in March 1917 reflected on the Russian people as a mystery that “painfully attracts attention to itself,” and admitted that this secret “we are not able to recognize: neither I, nor all of us, intellectuals, together. And no one ever knew what this “people” was, but only felt it as a kind of symbol...<…>The face of the Russian people either smiles with a delightful smile, or makes such a drunken and vile face that you just want to spit at it...” 14.

14 Benoit A.N. My diary, 1916-1917-1918. M., 2003. pp. 131-132 (hereinafter referred to as Benois 2003). 22 See: Benoit 2003. P. 137.

It is difficult to say how Nesterov resolved this contradiction for himself: neither his later works, nor his memoirs, nor his letters provide an answer to this question. Did he come to sober pessimistic conclusions or did he return to the beautiful myth of the people’s soul, seemingly refuted by life? However, is it possible to refute the myth?

* * *

Painting B.M. Kustodieva, at first glance, is far from the issues under consideration. The artist was not inclined to a tragic worldview and did not call for religious revival, although, like Nesterov, he passionately experienced the dramatic events taking place in Russia. Their imaginative worlds are also not similar.

Boris Kustodiev. Self-portrait. 1912. Cardboard, tempera. Uffizi Gallery, Florence

A born storyteller, a master of “everyday fantasies” 15, Kustodiev is always in the mood for a smile, fun, joy, for him the world is “all beautiful and interesting (hereinafter highlighted by Vs. Voinov - I.V.)” 16.

15 Boris Mikhailovich Kustodiev. Letters. Articles, notes, interviews. Meetings and conversations with the artist. (From the diaries of Vs. Voinov). Memories of the artist / Compiled-ed. B.A. Kapralov. Entry Art. M.G. Etkind and B.A. Kapralova. L., 1967. P. 231 (hereinafter referred to as Kustodiev).

16 Ibid. P. 238.

His paintings are a kind of theater for oneself, where the plump beauties born of his imagination, stern bearded merchants, clumsy cab drivers, dashing sex workers and other Russian people live and act, amusing the author. But Kustodiev was not a simple writer of everyday life; introducing genre motifs into a landscape collected from everything most typical in the Russian province, combining accurately conveyed details with fiction and convention, he achieved a generalizing sound of the image. Yuri Annenkov said this well: “The life of Kustodiev is all of Russia from Rurik to the present day. It doesn’t matter to me at all that he writes bills of sale from the forties; they are conceived both in the 17th century and as contemporary to us or going back to a completely hoary antiquity.

There is one basis, and Kustodiev is amazingly aware and justified!” 17

17 Quoted. by: Kustodiev. P. 232.

But the same can be said about many of Nesterov’s characters; the same unified basis is felt in them, independent of the time frame. Both artists are devoted to the Russian theme. For Kustodiev, the national principle - both thematically and stylistically - was the most important quality of art. He said that he dreams of creating “a purely Russian painting, just like there is a Dutch or French painting...” 18.

18 Ibid. P. 203.

Like Nesterov, Kustodiev was largely alone in his artistic aspirations. While recognizing his art, even admiring him, his contemporaries did not follow his path. “Russian artists neglect Russian life,” the master noted bitterly 19.

19 Ibid. P. 207.

“What we don’t have at all is the ability to illustrate life itself, and not literature,” he says, “a quality that is highly characteristic of the French” 20.

20 Ibid. P. 234.

Kustodiev himself, on the contrary, experienced a burning interest in his surroundings. He did not want to limit himself to the circle of once chosen genres and themes: during the revolution of 1905, he drew political cartoons, wrote workers’ demonstrations; in those same years he completed several royal portraits 21 and did not refuse other official orders.

21 V.F. Kruglov, the author of one of the last works about the artist, explains this contradiction by the fact that “Kustodiev, who throughout his studies at the Academy received an emperor’s scholarship, unlike Serov or Bilibin, colleagues in the magazines “Zhupel” and “Hellish Mail”, did not give satirical images of the monarch. The surviving correspondence does not contain his statements about the tsar during the days of the revolution, but it seems that he did not consider Nicholas II responsible for the situation in the country and Bloody Sunday" (Kruglov V.F. Boris Kustodiev. St. Petersburg, 2007. P. 45). But the point, I think, is not only in the artist’s attitude to the personality of Nicholas II (about whom, by the way, he did not speak very flatteringly). Kustodiev the portrait painter is quite “omnivorous,” as the cited publication clearly illustrates.

In this, Kustodiev was similar to his teacher Ilya Repin, whose reputation as a democrat and a man of progressive views did not prevent him from drawing Alexander III, Nicholas II and the entire State Council (in this work, as we remember, young Kustodiev helped him). Both the teacher and the student - let's be honest - did not belong to the thinkers in art, remaining primarily artistic natures; For both of them, interest in solving painting problems and creative passion obviously took precedence over other emotions. And, as a rule, the artistic result compensated for all moral costs. For example, one of the Kustodiev portraits of Nicholas II (1915, State Historical Museum), made in the spirit of a folk picture, is striking in its expressiveness: before us is the quintessence of patriarchal ideas about the Tsar-Father, a radiant image, almost an icon; Published in the form of a postcard, the portrait, as the historian testifies, was widely distributed throughout the country and was especially popular.

Boris Kustodiev. Portrait of Nicholas II. 1915. Lithograph. State Historical Museum

And in the early 1920s, having survived the horror of devastation, Kustodiev, as if nothing had happened, illustrates children’s books about Lenin, draws portraits of the new leader...

Boris Kustodiev. Bolshevik. 1920. Oil on canvas. Tretyakov Gallery Fragment

Kustodiev enthusiastically greeted the February Revolution. True, the works created at this time do not fully convey his feelings: the painting “February 27, 1917” (Tretyakov Gallery), painted under the impression of what he saw from the window (since 1916 the artist was confined to a wheelchair), is not illusory in Kustodi’s way and looks like documentary recording of events. In his art, Kustodiev usually proceeded from invention, composition; where fiction retreated, painting lost its wings. Soon the artist returned to his usual genre - “colorful” compositions with slightly doll-like staffage figures in scenery-like, domesticated, cozy landscapes.

Kustodiev’s paintings of 1917 differ little from the works of previous years, but their retrospective, pre-war subjects and idyllic structure, although sometimes seasoned with a sly grin (“Wedding Feast (Merchant Wedding)”, VKhM), are perceived in a new way against the backdrop of the alarming atmosphere of the time.

Boris Kustodiev. Wedding feast. 1917. Oil on canvas. Vyatka Art Museum

Scenes of rural labor (“Haymaking”, Tretyakov Gallery) are permeated with frank admiration. The characters are sometimes barely distinguishable; the natural expanse, palpable even in small works, becomes the main character, and man almost dissolves in its vastness.

The embodiment of these trends was the painting-panel “Summer” (1918, Russian Russian Museum), synthesizing many of the artist’s favorite motifs. Before us is a landscape panorama of central Russia; the ribbon of the road running parallel to the horizon plot-links all the episodes of the story: a hot day, an endless field where the harvest is taking place, a church, a river winding among the fields; a carriage with cheerful summer residents (this is the Kustodiev family) overtakes peasant carts, a shepherd dreams near the herd, bathers emerge from the water; The sun is shining, but somewhere it is raining, the distances are turning blue. The episodes are of an everyday nature, there is nothing iconic, much less symbolic, in them, and yet, it seems to be presented here - in a simple-minded, almost naive form - an idyllic picture of social harmony, essentially opposed to the slogans of the new system. Everyone is busy with their own business, people of different classes coexist peacefully, without uniting into “working people”, but they are all vitally connected with their land and feel at home on it. That is why the painting conveys such a feeling of the fullness of life, its serene flow.

How can one explain the gap between real life circumstances and the optimistic pathos of the Kustodiev’s creatures? I think it’s the belief that art should inspire hope, and not grumble. After all, Kustodiev overcame his personal tragedy with the help of the only medicine - creative work. His family shared all the suffering of the inhabitants of hungry Petrograd, the hardships of their exhausting life; This, in particular, is evidenced by the idea of ​​the gloomy painting “Petrograd in 1919,” but the artist abandoned it. Consciously discarding everything heavy, temporary and particular for the sake of the general and main thing - the affirmation of life, Kustodiev overcame his own pain and, moreover, turned his art into a magical elixir of happiness.

* * *

K.S. By 1917, Petrov-Vodkin had come a long way in creating his own pictorial system, which was formed on the basis of a synthesis of modernism and neoclassicism, ancient Russian icons, the Renaissance and new French painting.

Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin. Self-portrait. 1918. Oil on canvas. timing belt

The reputation he had acquired as a troublemaker in 1910 gave way to public recognition. His theoretical views and teaching methods aroused interest. Unlike Nesterov and Kustodiev, in 1917 Petrov-Vodkin was absorbed not only in creativity, but also in vigorous social activity. According to the memoirs of A.N. Benoit, a few days after the February Revolution, he invited him to “take power” in the sphere of culture 22 (we are talking about the failed Ministry of Arts), and after October he was one of the first to come into contact with the new government.

22 See: Benoit 2003. P. 137.

Petrov-Vodkin’s political views today can be judged quite reasonably: we know about his closeness to the Socialist Revolutionary Party, his collaboration in R.V.’s almanac. Ivanov-Razumnik “Scythians”, arrest and stay in prison (fortunately, short-lived), etc. But if you look at the texts published by the artist (“...Art has no greater tasks than penetrating the recesses of the human soul and aligning it with the recesses of the Universe” 23), one can be convinced of their purely aesthetic and abstract-idealistic nature; they have virtually nothing to do with the political issues of the day.

23 Petrov-Vodkin K.S. At the turn of art // Business of the people. 1917. No. 54. May 20 (June 2).

The excitement that gripped the artist during the revolution, the hopes and hopes that flared up with particular force under the influence of the ideas of freedom and social renewal, were largely colored by religious feelings. This is evidenced by his letters to his mother. Petrov-Vodkin’s worldview uniquely combined recognition of the Creator and faith in the limitless power of man; The religious optimism inspired by this faith helped the artist maintain his presence of mind in the most difficult period of his life - in “hungry Petrograd” 24.

24 This is what the artist’s address on one of his mother’s letters looked like.

The subjects of the paintings created by Petrov-Vodkin in 1917 are far from the everyday concerns of this troubled time: he prefers the eternal to the immediate, and knows how to elevate the particular to the universal. There are relatively few paintings: “Two” (Pskov Museum-Reserve) - a version of the central figures from the painting “Girls on the Volga” (1915, Tretyakov Gallery), “Morning. Bathers" and "Noon" (both - Russian Museum).

Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin. Two. 1917. Oil on canvas. Pskov Museum-Reserve

Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin. Morning. Bathers. 1917. Oil on canvas. timing belt

Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin. Noon. 1917. Oil on canvas. timing belt

It is characteristic that they are all connected with the theme of the peasantry. Although the artist had already addressed this topic in 1913-1915, 25 now it sounds somewhat different.

25 Paintings “Mother” (1913, Tretyakov Gallery) and “Girls on the Volga”, “Mother” (1915, State Russian Museum).

N.L. Adaskina notes: “Apparently, R.V.’s influence on the work of Petrov-Vodkin was quite strong. Ivanov-Razumnik with his late populist ideology, which strengthened the artist’s own orientation towards the traditions of national culture, and later (in the second half of the tenths) - towards the formation of an emphatically democratic - peasant - ideal of his art" 26 .

26 Adaskina N.L. K.S. Petrov-Vodkin. Life and art. M., 2014. P. 61.

The new sound is least noticeable in the film “Two,” which the author described as one of his “serious works.” It is designed in the spirit of an ancient Russian fresco and, thanks to its extreme laconicism, seems mysterious: dark ocher faces, a silent dialogue of glances and gestures, the absence of circumlocutions - everything hints at a hidden meaning, something like a sacra conversazione, a Holy conversation.

Two other paintings make an unexpected impression. There is a lot of naturalness and vital freshness in them, as if the artist abandoned the search for symbols and conventional language and immersed himself in the contemplation of nature. But such a conclusion would be premature.

“Noon” is interesting to compare with Kustodiev’s “Summer”. They have a typological similarity: both authors build a simultaneous image, connect disparate episodes, the background for which is the natural environment, uniting and almost dissolving numerous characters. But unlike the simple-minded Kustodiev, Petrov-Vodkin is thoughtful, even philosophical (a quality that is organic in his plastic creativity and borders on grandiloquence in the texts), and this is reflected both in the approach to the plot and in the formal solution.

The plot of “Afternoon” is the life of a Russian peasant, not individual, but “typical.” It appears on the canvas as a series of episodes placed in a single space. Sometimes such a decision is likened to iconographic stamps, but Petrov-Vodkin simply depicted life, devoid of miracles: childhood, work, family, death. The picture, however, lends itself to double interpretation; it can be considered simultaneously as an image of reality and as a symbol, as a story about the inhabitants of an entire village - and about the life of one person. Space amazes with its comprehensiveness (Petrov-Vodkin said: “...for me, spatiality is one of the main storytellers of my picture” 27).

27 Quoted. by: Hristolyubova T.P. K.S. Petrov-Vodkin: worldview and creativity. St. Petersburg, 2014. P. 99 (hereinafter referred to as Hristolyubova).

The artist surveys the trajectory of human existence either from a steep hill, or from the position of the Sun standing at the zenith, or of God observing the line of mortal life outlined by Him; Is this why temptingly ripe apples are placed in the foreground? But no matter what transcendental heights the author’s thought soars, it is embodied in recognizable, natural forms, and this gives the picture the character of a pictorial parable, outwardly intelligible, deceptively simple.

Painting “Morning. Bathers" even more eloquently testifies to the turning point to which Petrov-Vodkin’s painting has approached. The characters have already freed themselves from iconographic prototypes, and only in the fragility of the figures, the barely perceptible awkwardness of their movements, as well as in the greenness of the grass, similar to a precious crystal, does an atmosphere of primordial appearance arise, giving the genre scene a sublimely expansive meaning.

Petrov-Vodkin here embarks on a new path, leading to still lifes of 1918-1920, the painting “1918 in Petrograd” (1920, Tretyakov Gallery) and later works.

Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin. 1918 in Petrograd. Fragment. 1920. Oil on canvas. Tretyakov Gallery

Findings along this path were accompanied by serious losses. Painting was deprived of its monumentality, confining itself within the framework of pure easel painting. The increased sonority of color, the conventionality of spatial solutions and other liberties in the art of Petrov-Vodkin (as, for example, in the artists of the “Jack of Diamonds” circle) will disappear even before the new government calls on Soviet artists to realistically depict reality.

* * *

Creative nature Z.E. Serebryakova had an ineradicable need for idealization. The artist’s brush is always affectionate to what she paints, the eye looks not so much for beauty - in her portraits you rarely see the correctness of features, and landscape motifs are usually modest - but for charm, intimate and warm disposition, empathy.

Zinaida Serebryakova. Behind the toilet. Self-portrait. 1909. Oil on canvas on cardboard. Tretyakov Gallery

Serebryakova herself appears like this in her canvases, starting with the first and most famous self-portrait of 1909 (“Behind the Toilet. Self-Portrait,” Tretyakov Gallery), where the artist transforms her own features (and partly her character), subordinating them to the ideal of the era of Zhukovsky and Pushkin. So are her children, friends, relatives and other models; the same feeling permeates its interiors and landscapes, corners of nature and wide distances, illuminated by the rays of the sun and attracting people at any time of the year. There are no prosaisms in Serebryakova’s pictorial vocabulary; she does not accept the rude, the ordinary, the funny, much less the ugly; When depicting a person, he resorts to elongated, elongated proportions, giving flexibility to bodies, fluidity to movements, and grace to gestures. No matter who the artist paints - village women or ballerinas, teenagers or elderly people - everyone is distinguished by the youthful purity of their faces, the clarity and friendliness of their gaze, calmness and stateliness.

Probably, Serebryakova’s creative range would have remained limited by the inherent nature of her figurative vision and style if in 1915-1917 she had not turned to the peasant theme. The paintings “Harvest” (1915, State Russian Museum), “Whitening the Canvas” (1917, Tretyakov Gallery) and some others, perhaps, can be called the peaks of the artist’s work, although in terms of painting they are not inferior to either early portraits or compositions with nudes (sketches of Kazansky’s paintings station, 1916, State Tretyakov Gallery, State Russian Museum, State Museum "Peterhof"; "Bathhouse", 1913, State Russian Museum). But it was the paintings of the peasant cycle that became the result and the most perfect embodiment of the dream of a harmonious, free, beautiful person (people), a dream that turned out to be especially necessary and relevant in these years. The artist’s ideal looks natural, is born easily, as if without effort - perhaps because it is seen in reality, only slightly transformed by an allusion to high classics. In village girls, Serebryakova finds a noble character; their Renaissance prototypes shine through the images of specific people.

The peasant cycle was created on the family estate Neskuchnoye, Kursk province, where Serebryakova’s parents (nee Lansere) lived in their youth, and since the late 1900s the artist herself spent a lot of time; Her happiest years passed here. Communication with the peasants was close and friendly, almost family-like. The Lanceray-Serebryakov family was distinguished by sincere democracy. The artist’s husband, Boris Serebryakov, spoke in 1906 about the need to give Neskuchny’s land as ownership to the peasants 28 .

28 Knyazeva V.P. [Preface] // Zinaida Serebryakova. Letters. Contemporaries about the artist / Author-comp. and ed. entry Art. V.P. Knyazeva; note Yu.N. Podkopaeva. M., 1987. P. 17.

Her brother, famous artist E.E. Lanceray, in 1905, was an ardent supporter of the revolution, the author of sharp political cartoons; in a letter to A.N. He urged Benoit not to be afraid of socialism 29 .

29 See: Lapshina N.P. "World of Art". Essays on history and creative practice. M., 1977. P. 186.

At the end of 1916, Benoit mentioned in his diary that Lanseray “tends to idealize everything rural” 30, and a little earlier he noted Serebryakova’s own sharp statement against the “red-nosed” Duma who called for continuing the war, and praised her for her determination and courage 31.

30 Benoit 2003. P. 66. In another entry by A.N. Benoit notes the contradictory nature of E.E.’s statements. Lanceray (p. 79-80).

31 Benoit 2003. pp. 50-51.

There is no doubt that the family greeted the February Revolution with joy. During the summer, Serebryakova, who always worked hard, wrote “Whitening the Canvas” - the last and one of the best works of the peasant cycle; the dramatic events that soon followed prevented its continuation.

Zinaida Serebryakova. Whitening the canvas. 1917. Oil on canvas. Tretyakov Gallery

This painting differs from the works of 1914-1915. If previously peace reigned on the artist’s canvases, and the figures with their majestic statics resembled images of the Renaissance, now the composition is permeated with a strong, almost baroque movement. The generalization in the interpretation of the figures intensifies: the heroines are almost devoid of portrait features, we can barely distinguish their sweet faces, which were previously painted carefully and lovingly. It is in vain to look here for premonitions, hidden anxiety - Serebryakova will forever remain true to her bright view of the world.

In comparison with the works of the masters mentioned above, “Whitening the Canvas” demonstrates new qualities, and Serebryakova herself demonstrates the traits of an artist of a new formation. Using traditional techniques for a painter, she achieves no less powerful generalization: she does not have to, like Kustodiev or Petrov-Vodkin, resort to elements of a story - she does not accept any “writing.” The artist chooses only “eternal” themes, and this reflects the Westernizing feature of her artistic upbringing (the Russian school is inclined towards “writing”, both plots and formal solutions).

Serebryakova's ideals are national and cosmopolitan at the same time. It is curious that, following in art the traditions of Venetsianov and the masters of the Renaissance, Serebryakov in her attitude to life seemed to be imbued with their idealism: the faith of Italian humanists in man, Venetsianov’s sublimely pure attitude towards the Russian serf. All around they robbed, burned and destroyed estates, seized landowners' lands. We do not know exactly what happened in Neskuchny 32, but at the end of the year, realizing the danger, the Lansere-Serebryakov family left the estate forever.

32 The changed attitude of the peasants can be judged from the stories of members of the Lansere family, recorded by A.N. Benoit (Benoit A.N. Diary. 1918-1924. M., 2016. P. 52).

The humanistic utopia, the dream of a beautiful person in a free land, which until recently seemed feasible, collapsed overnight, leaving a trace only in the artist’s art.

Considering the paintings dedicated to the folk theme in the context of the events taking place in Russia, one cannot help but experience cognitive dissonance. There is something fatal in the discrepancy between art and reality, as if the artists suddenly lost their sense of reality and ceased to understand the life around them. But this, of course, is not true. I think the reason is different - in the laws that artistic processes obey. Russian art has long gone through the stage of a critical attitude towards life; Since the 1880s, the search for an ideal, a “gratifying” one, has been on the agenda. The Silver Age devoted itself to him, and the masters discussed above continued to serve him. It is characteristic that neither Nesterov, nor Petrov-Vodkin, nor Serebryakova liked (perhaps did not know how) to write negative characters 33.

33 K.S. Petrov-Vodkin said: “I can’t write a scoundrel - not because I couldn’t, but the devil knows - every scoundrel can be good!” (quoted from: Hristolyubova. P. 101). In this regard, one can cite the frank statement of M.V. Nesterova in conversation with B.M. Kustodiev: “When I saw your works before, something repelled me from them, I could not come to terms with the fact that I saw in them a kind of mockery of the class close to me (merchants), and I said to myself: after all, he is good at them knows and apparently loves; so why does he allow someone else to laugh at them, expose them to ridicule?..<…>But on this visit I saw... and felt this deep warmth and love... And I wish you to continue to follow Ostrovsky’s path even brighter and more definitely!..” (quoted from: Kustodiev. P. 251).

However, among the galaxy of “idealists” was a painter whose gift, if not clairvoyance, as Benoit wrote, then of artistic sanity turned out to be completely unusual against the general background.

* * *

“When at an exhibition at the Academy of Arts... a series of his painting-like studies, surrounding the main work, called “Race”, appeared for public hearing, many were seized with both delight from obvious talent and a kind of horror. Aesthetes, who by that time were completely unaccustomed to reading any lessons and prophetic edifications from paintings, saw the likeness of a “Gorgon’s head,” - this is how Benoit described the appearance at the beginning of 1918 at the World of Art exhibition of the cycle “Race” by B.D. Grigorieva 34.

34 Benoit A.N. The work of Boris Grigoriev. // Alexander Benois reflects... / Prepared. ed., intro. Art. and comment. I.S. Zilberstein and A.N. Savinova. M., 1968. P. 244.

Boris Grigoriev. Man in the Basement (Self-Portrait). 1919-1920. Location unknown. Reproduced by: Firebird. 1923. No. 11. Colored insert

The critic was not exaggerating. Grigoriev’s cycle really caused a real shock in the viewer, but not with its formal audacity and shockingness - such things did not surprise anyone at that time, but with a completely unexpected interpretation of the most cherished theme for the Russian intelligentsia - the theme of the people.

By 1917, Grigoriev was already quite famous, but the attitude towards him was ambivalent. Many appreciated his gift as a draftsman, but were skeptical about the erotic series “Intimite”. Just in 1917, the most provocative painting of the series “Street of Blondes” appeared (Museum-Apartment of I.I. Brodsky).

Boris Grigoriev. Street of blondes. 1917. Oil on canvas. Museum-apartment of I.I. Brodsky, St. Petersburg

In Vsevolod Voinov’s diary there is an interesting story about this work, apparently written down from hearsay: “Boris Grigoriev had a privileged position in the Trophy Commission. He painted Nicholas II in the uniform of the Volyn Regiment... With the revolution... the benefits for Grigoriev ended, and soon the Trophy Commission itself was cashed out. On the canvas where Nicholas II began, B. Grigoriev painted his “Street of Blondes,” and Nicholas’s face was just below the back of the “blonde” 35.

35 Quoted. by: Garmash T. The Mystery of “Streets of Blondes.” What the archives are silent about // Antiquarian world. 2014. No. 7. P. 124.

Although technological research has not confirmed this story, the fact that such a legend arose indicates how ambiguously Grigoriev’s personality was perceived at that time. Difficult to communicate with, unpredictable, he repelled many with his self-confidence and harsh judgments. And, probably, if his “Rasey” had not been born, the image of a gifted, but empty and cynical artist would have remained in the history of art as an example of the “incompatibility” of these qualities. But “Raseya” discovered the real Grigoriev. She displayed rare powers of observation, sober acuity of perception and phenomenal skill.

The first drawings and paintings of the cycle were created in the summer of 1917, when Petrov-Vodkin was working on “Afternoon”, Serebryakova was working on “Whitening the Canvas”; other masters, tired of the political unrest, looked for something gratifying in their work: Benois painted landscapes in the Novgorod province, 36 Somov painted prints of his “Book of the Marquise,” Korovin was fond of “nocturnes.”

36 “I... developed an extraordinary artistic activity in this second half of the summer of 1917, working with pleasure from nature and searching for surprisingly exciting and downright touching themes in this native, but hitherto little used nature. The month that I spent in 1917 in Puzyrevo is one of the most productive in my artistic activity. And it was precisely these sketches that then had particular success” (Benoit 2003, p. 194).

It is not known with what creative intentions Grigoriev went to sketch in the environs of Petrograd; Perhaps he, a regular on the Parisian boulevards and St. Petersburg cabarets, suddenly wanted to join the life of the village or simply paint the landscapes. But what he captured gave his contemporaries the impression of a bomb exploding.

The central canvas of the cycle “Peasant Land” (1918, Russian Russian Museum), with its epically expanded, horizontally elongated composition, is reminiscent of Kustodiev’s “Summer”.

Boris Grigoriev. Peasant land. 1917. Oil on canvas. timing belt

Here the colors of summer are just as rich, the land is beautiful and abundant. The same endless expanses, the same golden fields... but what happened to the people? The peasants, whom we could barely see in Kustodiev and Petrov-Vodkin, suddenly brought their faces closer to us, and the expression on their faces makes us recoil. There is so much hidden anger on them, long-accumulated, barely restrained hatred, just about ready to burst out with direct aggression, that you seem to feel the hot breath of an imminent rebellion, a harbinger of burned estates and bloody massacres...

It is not surprising that Grigoriev’s cycle has become the center of discussions not only about art, but also about the essence of the Russian people. They wrote about his primitive face, first shown by Grigoriev, and called the artist an exposer of “the low, bestial in man” (Sergei Makovsky). “Some consider him a “Bolshevik” in painting, others are offended by his “Race”, others try to comprehend through him the iconic essence of the silent, stone-like, mysterious Slavic face, others turn away with anger - this is a lie, there is no such Russia and never was...” - noted Alexey Tolstoy 37.

37 Quoted. by: Antipova R.N. Boris Grigoriev. Essay on life and creativity // Grigoriev readings: Sat. Art. Vol. 4. M., 2009. P. 32.

Grigoriev himself later unambiguously connected the images of “Race” with subsequent events: “In the days of the revolution, when people stopped observing themselves, when they began to open up... shamelessly exposing everything human, even the bestial, I tried to discern the whole people, to find their origins... It was scary , but hatred still forced me to portray, without particularly succumbing to the charm of ... the material” 38.

38 Grigoriev B.D. About art and its legal crimes // Grigoriev B.D. Line. Literary and artistic heritage / Intro. Art., comment. V.N. Terekhina. M., 2006. P. 106.

His main task, as the artist admitted, was to see what was hidden from the eyes by the dense veil of familiar mythology: “Whoever has not seen the revolution has not seen the people...<…>We must explain to humanity that its first necessity... is to learn to look at everything with your own eyes” 39 .

39 Ibid. pp. 106-107.

As events unfolded, Grigoriev's mood changed. If at first he tried to get used to the state of his heroes, to show the depths of both the embittered (“Old Milkmaid”, Tretyakov Gallery) and the wise peasant soul (“Olonets Grandfather”, Pskov Museum-Reserve), then the artist spoke mercilessly about the representatives of the victorious people: “You cannot love a person who thinks with a bicep and looks with a thorn” 40.

40 Ibid. P. 98.

Boris Grigoriev. The old milkmaid. 1917. Oil on canvas. Tretyakov Gallery Fragment

Boris Grigoriev. Olonetsky grandfather. From the series “Raceya”. 1918. Oil on canvas. Pskov Museum-Reserve

His attitude to the revolution was not immediately determined. Grigoriev did not have strong political convictions, was inconsistent in his statements and actions, and often acted under the influence of a momentary mood. For some time after October 1917, he participated in artistic life: he exhibited, taught at the reformed Stroganov School (I GSKhM), together with the World Art Museum he painted panels to decorate Petrograd, but the hardships of everyday life and the increasing “anti-art interference” of the bureaucracy (“vulgarity is ready to boast even radio" 41) forced him to leave Russia.

41 Ibid. P. 97.

Abroad, Grigoriev continues to work on the cycle. In the large-scale painting-panel “Faces of Russia” (1921, Palace of Congresses), starting from “Peasant Land”, he sums up his thoughts. The peasants from the 1917 painting are now turning into terrible phantoms, behind which their real prototypes can barely be discerned. A myth with the opposite sign arises - an image of the distorted essence of man, a werewolf people.

(To be continued)

Lazar (Morduchovich) Lisitsky. Red wedge. Poster. 1919.

The connection between the revolution and the artistic practices of the avant-garde appears random and irrational on the surface. But this “random connection” is regularly reproduced with each new revolution, turning into a serial event. This circumstance alone allows us to see a certain objective pattern in this phenomenon. The meeting of the avant-garde and the revolution is predetermined by history itself. But the essence of this predetermination, if we use Heidegger’s language, needs clarification.

American art critic Clement Greenberg writes that in 1931-33 the Nazis showed interest in German expressionism. But after the NSDAP came to power, a turn to the classical paradigm in art immediately took place. Greenberg explains it as follows: “the masses, precisely because they were deprived of power, had to be appeased by all other means at hand. It was necessary to promote the illusion of real power of the masses on a larger scale than is customary in democracies. Literature and art that the masses like and understand should be declared the only true literature and art, and everything else should be destroyed.” The situation in the field of art in fascist Italy is even more indicative. Italian fascism initially had very close ties with futurism, but as his dictatorship strengthened, Mussolini made a turn from futurism to the “imperial style,” marking a clear return to the pre-revolutionary, realist paradigm. In the USSR, the departure from the avant-garde occurred in 1930-1933.

The fate of the avant-garde in post-revolutionary society is organically connected with the fate of the revolution itself. Revolutionary art cannot help but be avant-garde; or, in other words: it cannot be realistic. - It is impossible to focus on reality and at the same time blow it up. And this is exactly what the revolutionary era does. Metaphorically speaking, a revolution is an explosion of reality. Any revolution claims to create new ontological foundations of social existence and, accordingly, existence in general. Social life is always associated with a certain myth (or set of myths), within the framework of which sociality takes on a special meaning. The revolution contrasts the old myth with its own. Without this new myth, revolution is impossible in principle.

In this regard, one of the most important questions is the question of the original topos of the revolutionary myth - about the point in the cultural space at which this myth is born.

It is easier to answer this question by cutting off from this point everything that does not belong to it. And first of all, it is necessary to recognize that a true revolutionary myth is not created by theoretical thought. This is clearly demonstrated by the history of the Russian Revolution. Despite the fact that formally the revolution was guided by the principles of Marxism and was led by a Marxist party (Antonio Gramsci in this regard directly calls it the “Marxist revolution”), it was not Marxism that became the creator of the revolutionary myth. The myth of the Russian revolution is concentrated in the slogan of the autumn of 1917: “Peace to the peoples! Factory workers! Land for the peasants! It reflects mass sentiment, and is not a projection of Marxist theoretical schemes. Moreover, it largely contradicts these schemes, as was clearly demonstrated by the Soviet collectivization of the 1930s. Theoretical thought is related to the sphere of epistemology; it requires understanding and exclusively understanding. And the revolution lives by pathos, and the revolutionary myth, accordingly, is not only a sphere of understanding, but also a sphere of experience. Moreover, in this case it is the experience that is more significant, more primary than understanding. And any rationalism that turns on itself is unacceptable for the revolution. The explosion of reality is directly related to the deconstruction of all pre-revolutionary types of rationalism.

The explosion of reality contrasts Logos with Desire. Desire is irrational.

The revolutionary program at the moment of its immediate implementation, i.e. at the moment of revolution as such, does not require rational justification at all. The slogan “Peace to the nations!” Factory workers! Land for the peasants! acts as a self-evident truth, and the self-evident does not need justification. His main requirement for the subject is the requirement of involvement. Alain Badiou defines such truth as truth religious. It fills the sphere of the sacred, in relation to which only one adequate response is possible on the part of the subject: sacrifice and service. Any reflection on the sacred that claims to be objectivist immediately displaces the subject of such reflection beyond the boundaries of the sacred, condemning him to the role of an outsider in relation to the sacred, the religion associated with it, and the events initiated by the sacred.

But the revolution, being a religious event, does not create religion within itself - religion as some kind of immanent element existing within the revolutionary process. From a religious point of view, the revolution is too chaotic, spontaneous and uncontrollable. The revolution is driven by the “creativity of the masses”; its semantic configuration changes with each new moment of its implementation. The revolution is not religious, but mythological. She lives a myth and creates a myth. The post-revolutionary time will create, on the basis of myth, a religion that presupposes the presence of canons, rituals, official history, in relation to which everything that does not belong to it acquires the status of apocrypha, and a rigid hierarchy of the priesthood, limiting, among other things, the possibilities of individual, spontaneous prophecies. But the revolution itself does not yet know any of this.

This remark is also relevant for the history of Christianity. No Christian religion existed either in the 1st century or in the first third of the 2nd century. Christian mythology existed at this time. By the middle of the second century of its history, this mythology was taken under the control of an actively emerging priesthood. One of the first actions of this priesthood was a ban on individual prophecies - on spontaneous hearing of “voices”. The right to further development of the Christian worldview passed from the street to the temple. Now only the temple determines the actual origin of the “voice,” labeling everything that contradicts the official teaching as “illusory” and “demonic.” Thus, on the basis of the Christian myth, the Christian religion is born.

The revolutionary myth is born on the street, but the street is not capable of self-legitimation. Legitimation presupposes the “inscription” of a new element into the conceptual space of culture, and it is there that the doors are closed to the street. In this situation, the only tool capable of legitimizing the revolutionary myth is art. And that is why, having stood in the service of the revolution, it inevitably turns into avant-garde art. The choice between avant-garde aesthetics and realist aesthetics in this situation reflects the existential choice between Revolution and counter-revolution.

When, within the framework of the new history created by the revolution, a return to the principles of realistic aesthetics is declared, this means that the post-revolutionary time has turned into a POST-REVOLUTIONARY time. The post-revolutionary period solves revolutionary problems in conditions of a sharp decrease in social tension and a transition from the practice of direct violence to social regulation based on constitutional and legislative norms; This - continuation revolution, only by other means. POST-REVOLUTIONARY is a fundamentally new phase of the historical process, meaning that the revolution is over. The time of the dominance of Desire is passing, replaced by the time of the establishment of the New Logos.

At the same moments when art returns to the principles of realism, a new model of rationality is formed, revolutionary mythology turns into a revolutionary religion. We can partly agree with Greenberg: in the new situation, the voice of the street gives way to the voice of the church. And what is required from the masses in these new conditions is not actions aimed at creating the foundations of a new world, but internal mobilization aimed at implementing a project that is primary in relation to any social initiative.

Accordingly, the art of the era of explosion gives way to the art of the era of mobilization. The requirement for spontaneity is replaced by the requirement for systematic, monotonous daily work.

In this context, the “reverse transition” from avant-garde to realism seems quite understandable and natural. Art becomes the service of the post-revolutionary project - the heir of the Revolution. But at the same time, the following is obvious: a post-revolutionary project at the ontological level is always less than the event that gave birth to it. The aspirations of the revolution always exceed what the post-revolutionary project can promise. In this context, the connection between post-revolutionary time and revolution is initially twofold: post-revolutionary action, to the extent that it follows the direction indicated by the revolution, demonstrates its loyalty to its ideals, but, because it is always less than what the revolution dreamed of; post-revolutionism turns out to be a time of inevitable betrayal of these ideals. And this duality inevitably extends to post-revolutionary art.

The same can be said for the relationship between myth and religion. Religion relies on myth, concretizes it, but, at the same time, distances itself from it. Religious society is a post-revolutionary society. It lives in the memory of its beautiful, mythological (revolutionary) era, which worked in accordance with the saying of the Apostle Paul “love God and do what you want,” but it feels and acts in accordance with the realities of another time - in the situation of the return of the power of the Law.

The transition from revolution to post-revolution is an inevitable and necessary event. Such a transition is a condition for the existence of society, an essential element of self-preservation. And in this context, what many critics of Stalin’s policies characterized as “betrayal of the revolution”, “perversion of the revolutionary spirit”, is just a concrete manifestation of some general law of historical life. “Children betray their fathers”... Isn’t betrayal just a particular moment in the formation of the historical process? Something that is programmed in the process itself initially, What is inherent in the “blood and flesh” of history as the most important condition for its real existence?

The post-revolutionary avant-garde is rapidly shifting to the outskirts of artistic life, turning into something between a “beautiful memory” and marginality. At the same time, there is a global change in his attitude to social life. Connection with reality, deep rootedness in it are replaced by “movement away” - departure, often taking the form of escape. The late avant-garde avoids all stable connections with the world. Its new, real pathos is ontological emptiness. Accordingly, the social base of this artistic phenomenon is also being transformed. Now the avant-garde is the style of all those who, for whatever reason, did not fit into the post-revolutionary project, thereby turning themselves into spiritual and social outsiders.

The functional topos in the ideological space of culture is mobile and changeable. And the life of any cultural phenomenon in this space inevitably takes on a nomadic character. Situations of displacement towards the boundaries of the cultural field, immersion in the soil, in the underground are never something final, irreversible. The main problem of the avant-garde is the inevitability of the existence of periods of relative stability in the life of society. But any stability is temporary. And when the flame of a new revolution flares up, the avant-garde returns to the epicenter of the social explosion so that later, having done its job, it will again go to the outskirts... The Hegelian spiral of time is just a partial modification of the circle.