| “Artists Against The State: Perestroika Revisited,” curated by Marco Nocella, Peggy Jarrell Kaplan and Ronald Feldman, present over 50 non-conformist conceptual artists from the former Soviet Union. This exhibition represents several generations of artists who worked outside the parameters of sanctioned art and strove against all odds to gain freedom of artistic expression that was anathema to the state. It covers the period starting with conceptualism in the 70s through Perestroika—the time during the cultural and political reforms initiated by Gorbachev in the late 80s ending in 1991 with the breakup of the Soviet Union. |  |
Artists Against the State! – E. K. Clark
“Artists Against The State: Perestroika Revisited,” curated by Marco Nocella, Peggy Jarrell Kaplan and Ronald Feldman, present over 50 non-conformist conceptual artists from the former Soviet Union. This exhibition represents several generations of artists who worked outside the parameters of sanctioned art and strove against all odds to gain freedom of artistic expression that was anathema to the state. It covers the period starting with conceptualism in the 70s through Perestroika—the time during the cultural and political reforms initiated by Gorbachev in the late 80s ending in 1991 with the breakup of the Soviet Union. Included are works by emigre artists as well as important St. Petersburg and Moscow conceptualists.
During the Soviet era the public sphere was replete with propaganda in the form of sloganeering in the press and instructional banners hanging from buildings in order to “improve” the Soviet man. As a survival tactic, non-conformist artists took their cues from these signs to deconstruct Soviet ideology using text and commentary to undermine Soviet ideology using their absurdist humor and biting satire.
Eric Bulatov was one of the first artists to transform the officially sanctioned Socialist Realism by combining realistic illustration with huge typographic texts—some personal, some borrowed from political banners. The texts recede within a pictorial space reminiscent of the Renaissance illusionistic perspective. With his unique invented language, he sets up a tension between image and text that puts into question the veracity and meaning of fixed ideological and social norms. Three works are exhibited in this show: Sevina Sineva (Seva’s Blue) (1979), Go, Stop, Go (1973), and Perestroika (1989). In Sevina Sineva, a large oil painting, the huge block letters recede into the distance on a backdrop of a pure blue sky with white clouds. One has the perception of both a perverse and mythical universe where the giant block letters lend an unpleasant officialdom to pristine nature. Go, Stop, Go uses the same strategy—the words “Stop” and “Go” set in a cross format to mimic official pronouncements—while in Perestroika, a 15 x 15 inch lithograph, a constructivist-like structure rises heroically above the block letters announcing “Perestroika,” once again conflating the glorious socialist past with the dubious democratic present.
With “Americans As Seen By Russians” (1983), 18 Chinese ink drawings greet the visitor at the entrance of the Feldman Gallery. Vagrich Bakhchanyan, who immigrated to New York in 1974, culled these caricatures of Americans from three Moscow newspapers: Pravda, Izvestia and Komsomiskai, from 1982-83 and enlarged them over 300%.
It’s very comical to view these caricatures of the “ugly” American as seen through the perceptions of Soviet journalists. There’s one of the face of the Statue of Liberty festooned with missiles on her head. On her sunglasses, we can read, in Russian: “CIA” and “FBI.” Another shows a bestial open-mouthed, fangy man and the sign reads “Terrorism;” another face has “Pentagon” written across it. The whole wall makes a stunning visual and conceptual commentary on the fallibility of our belief systems.
On an opposite wall, a Social Realist painting done by an unknown official artist depicts a gathering of happy peasants having a picnic outdoors, at a local collective farm. Red banners in the distance iterate “Life is getting better” and another states “Living is happier.”
In the South gallery, there are a number of outstanding works. Timur Novikov, a St. Petersburg artist whose promising career was cut short by his untimely death, exhibits a couple of small imaginative paintings: Moscow (1987) and Yalta (1990). Novikov has a distinct intuitive painting style and doesn’t bother playing Post-Modern appropriation games, nor is he interested in text or political ideology.
On the other hand, Sergei Bugaev (Afrika) another well-known St. Petersburg artist pursues his wide-ranging curiosities from semiology to psychoanalysis and more. Here, there is a green velvet textile with mysterious inscriptions and a small painting with the word “Bath” in Russian and a brick floating in space. Also, three metal painted plaques from “Lucia Series” (1988-89), which investigate the study of signs.
Kosalapov, a well-known Moscow artist who spent some time in New York and now is working in Moscow, is represented by Untitled (1974-1997). This painting on rough plywood presents a fatherly figure in a military uniform with his hand on the shoulder of a boy sitting at a desk. The sign on the desk reads ”Study Sonny.” The style is folksy, resembling illustrations in children’s storybooks and the message is undeniably ironic: What can one learn under the yoke of this overwhelming authority? In more recent work, Kosalapov has shown slicker Pop-oriented objects which are less personal but perhaps more salable.
Grisha Bruskin is a transitional figure standing between Pop and Surrealism; he presents “The Birth of the Hero” (1985-88)–-16 bronze sculptures painted white, variable in size, executed in a mythic heroic style. A woman holds a Soviet map; a boy shows a portrait of Lenin; a soldier stands at attention. All have an eerie iconic quality that holds a key to a corner of Soviet history long past, but frozen for eternity.
Komar and Melamid, pioneers of “Sots Art” (an underground movement that sought to undermine Soviet ideology with satire and parody), along with Vagrich Bachinyan, Kosalapov and Sokov are represented in this exhibition by numerous works. Three of the most compelling pieces by Komar and Melamid’s are Double Self-Portrait (1977), Quotation (1972), and We Were Born To Transform Fairy-Tales into Reality (1972). All three works use the slipperiness of language for their knockout punch. The self-portrait painted on a 36-inch diameter oil painting spoofs official commemorative medallions. Written around the perimeter, instead of the usual Soviet propaganda, is a self-promotional message stating: “Famous artists, early-70s, 20th Century Moscow.” Quotation parodies official pronouncements by substituting blank rectangles for words, transforming the whole painting into a geometric abstraction; We Were Born… parodies official propaganda banners with a subversive personal message—subversive because it is personal.
Leonid Sokov, another Sots artist, presents a much-reproduced bronze sculpture: The Meeting: Two Sculptures (1986), showing Lenin confronting a Giacometti figure. On the base of the piece is a factory stamp—probably an ironic allusion to the lively trade in Lenin and Stalin statuary by the Soviet regime. In a more folksy style, carved and painted wooden eyeglasses entitled Eyeglasses for Every Soviet Person, (1978), spoofs Soviet totalitarian vision.
In a more mythical vein, artists Brodsky and Utkin, Rimma and Valeriy Gerlovin, the Martinchiks and Ilya Kabakov create parallel universes. Brodsky and Utkin—who have been called “paper architects” because they spent the Soviet years creating impossible structures on paper—invent an archeological site replete with objects (made from painted plaster) that they presumably unearthed. These wonderful objects sit on a glass table and are utterly magical. Rimma and Valeriy transform Rimma’s face into an iconic canvas; a text on her forehead reads “Believe.” The Gerlovins create a curious parallel between ancient religious icons and Surrealism. The Martinchiks present Selections From the Ho People—an invented civilization made out of plasticine and wood. Totally enchanting. Finally, Ilya Kabakov, a late discoverer of installation and Dada Art shows a faux-impressionist painting jazzed-up with a couple of jackets hanging from the canvas.
The non-conformist artists growing up during the Soviet and Perestroika eras were both victims of repression and its beneficiaries. They mined Western conceptual and Surrealist models to create a powerful artistic weapon against the Soviet State. To Western viewers, some of the works in this exhibition may seem opaque due to their verbal subtleties; however, “Artists Against the State: Perestroika Revisited” is a remarkable tribute to the human spirit.
