Coming in from the cold
After decades living in fear of the authorities, Russian artists in the 1980s were suddenly allowed to make the art they wanted. A new exhibition in London showcases this creative boom
WORDS | LEE CHESHIRE
UNTIL THAT MOMENT, THE ARTIST ILYA KABABOV HAS SAID, THERE WAS NO GENUINE RUSSIAN ART. For decades it had been entirely dictated by Soviet ideology and not only were artists banned from making work criticising the government, even seemingly innocent abstract work was not allowed. ‘Formalist’ work was considered degenerate and could be met with a fine, imprisonment or worse.
But then came Glasnost: political, cultural and economic liberation and an explosion of artistic invention. Art that was hidden was suddenly opened up for everyone.
This pivotal period in Russian history is on show at London’s Haunch of Venison gallery this month. With over 100 works, it is one of the biggest exhibitions of ‘non-conformist’ art ever staged, taking 10 years to put together, and follows a successful show in Moscow last year.
“It should be ground breaking,” says curator Nina Miall. “It really attempts to deconstruct the historical and political context of the Glasnost era and to give a sense of this artistic revolution. So it’s very radical, it’s very anti-establishment. The exhibition seeks to communicate the sheer artistic diversity and underground spirit of this work.”
If the artists’ names are currently unfamiliar to a Western audience, that is likely to change. Thanks to the increasing popularity of London with wealthy Muscovites, the cultural connections between the two cities have never been stronger.
In the last few years, art galleries opened in central Moscow by the likes of Dasha Zhukova (Roman Abramovich’s girlfriend) and Maria Baibakova have brought the best of British contemporary art to Russia’s capital. Antony Gormley was on at Zhukova’s Garage Centre for Contemporary Culture last year, while Baibakov Art Projects is currently showing the cream of young London artists, including Conrad Shawcross and Ryan Gander (until 19 April).
Now the art is starting to flow the other way. This spring will see the opening of a gallery dedicated to 20th-century Russian art, called Aktis, while MacDougall’s auction house caters specially for this market. But it is not all aimed at ex-pat billionaires looking to buy up a piece of home. Major institutions like Tate Modern and the Royal Academy have put on blockbuster shows of Russian work in the last few years.
“Because the material is so foreign to a Western audience we’re seeking to give them an introduction to this period, and to draw out some of the key strands and key artists,” says Miall. “It’s by no means an exhaustive survey.”
It’s certainly difficult to cover the cacophony of competing styles in a single show. After decades of being restrained, each Russian artist made use of the new freedom in his or her own way.
“You have a situation where for the first time artists are asserting their individuality and independence,” says Miall. “That said, they were very good friends, they were often exhibiting together and supporting each other’s work, so there were certain loose groups of styles that developed.”
Sots Art – derived from Socialist Art – is perhaps the best known movement. It was founded by Vitaly Komar and Alexander Melamid, who worked in advertising, where they had to use the official Socialist Realist aesthetics – all proud peasants and healthy workers. To amuse themselves, they made secret parodies, substituting their own faces for those of Lenin or Stalin, reworking the myths and tropes of Socialist Realism with subversive twists. This evolved into a kitschy, satirical style similar to Pop Art.
Other artists took their lead from what was happening in Europe at the time, borrowing the wild, emotional language of the neoexpressionist painters. Others, like the highly influential Ilya Kababov and the Moscow Conceptualists, tackled the reality of Soviet life from a more conceptual standpoint. Still others assimilated the history of the Russian avant-garde, such as the early 20th century primitives.
Before Glasnost, being an artist in Russia was difficult and dangerous. If you were not part of the official Union of Artists you were not allowed to exhibit work or even buy art materials: people would hold semi-secret shows in their own apartments. Like Kolmar and Melamid, some had day-jobs as official artists, often as book illustrators, but developed their own work in their own time.
The show charts the end of the nonconformist period, as a group distinguished by its underground status became legitimate and therefore lost some of its purpose. But the influence of this work is still strong.
“In many ways this generation of Soviet nonconformists made it possible for the contemporary Russian artists to be as irreverent, radical and ironic as they are,” says Miall. “There is a very strong lineage from this generation through to the contemporary avant-garde. It’s very much of its time and very exciting, but such an important moment in Russian art history as well.”
Glasnost: Soviet Non-Conformist Art from the 1990s runs 16 April to 26 June at Haunch of Venison, 9 Burlington Gardens, London W1, + 44 (0)20 7495 5050, www.haunchofvenison.com
In Moscow? See international and Russian art at these influential galleries:
The Garage Center for Contemporary Culture
19A Ulitsa Obraztsova, www.garageccc.com
Baibakov Art Projects
Red October Chocolate Factory, 3rd floor, www.baibakovartprojects.com
