by Leek, Peter.
History painting in Russia, however, did not come into its own until the founding of the Academy. As of then, was regarded as superior to other art forms such as religious art and the depiction of mythological themes, which became subcategories of history painting. One of the most celebrated pictorial works from this period was not a painting but a mosaic of Peter the Great’s victory over Charles XII of Sweden at Poltava in 1709, produced by the workshop of M.V. Lomonosov between 1762 and 1764.
One constraint on the development of realistic history painting was the lack of reliable historical and archaeological sources, which deterred many artists from attempting accurate representations of places, people and events. Another inhibiting factor was the Academy’s worship of classicism. Events from Russian history were depicted less frequently than subjects from antiquity or mythology — such as Bruni’s The Death of Camilla, Sister of Horatius (1824) and Losenko’s Hector Taking Leave of Andromache, which melodramatically exploits the pathos of the couple’s inner anguish and outer stoicism.
Even when events from Russian history were chosen, Russians were often represented in classical mode — in Greek or Roman costume, or forced into heroic poses imitating those of Antiquity. Sometimes the result verged on the absurd, as in Andreï Ivanov’s painting (c. 1810) of an act of bravery during the siege of Kiev in 968, where the scanty attire and statuesque posture of the heroic youth have an obvious debt to ancient Greek sculpture.
The ultimate manifestation of this infatuation with classical themes was Karl Briullov’s masterpiece, The Last Day of Pompeii. Painted between 1830 and 1833, while he was living in Italy, it caused a stir throughout Europe. Gogol described it as “a feast for the eyes”. It was also admired by George Buiwer (-Lytton), who visited Italy in 1833 and whose almost identically entitled book was published in 1834. The painting earned Briullov all sorts of honours, including the prestigious Grand Prix at the Paris Salon, and was instrumental in establishing his reputation as the greatest Russian painter of his day.
Briullov’s most serious rival was Fyodor Bruni (1799-1875), whose masterpiece, The Bronze Serpent, was no less ambitious than The Last Day of Pompeii and more than matched it in size. Bruni laboured at it for fifteen years (from 1826 to 1841), but much to his chagrin, it failed to bring forth the same acclaim.
A small flood of caricatures, lampoons and paintings with nationalistic themes was unleashed in reaction to events such as Napoleon’s invasion of Russia in 1812 and the Decembrists’ attempt to oust the as yet uncrowned Nicholas I in 1825. Later, in 1853, the downfall of their coup was recalled in a painting by Vassily Timm (1820-95), showing Nicholas receiving the news that the rebel troops had been overwhelmed by the Imperial guards, whose presence is a visible reminder of tsarist power.
73. Karl Briullov, The Last Day of Pompei, 1830-1833.
Oil on canvas, 466 x 651 cm, Russian Museum, St. Petersburg.
From the 1860s to the 1890s
Among the Itinerants, the undisputed master of history painting was Vassily Surikov. Born in a remote Siberian town, Krasnoyarsk, of Cossack ancestry, he felt strong personal links to the people and history of Russia. Like many other Russian artists in the 1870s and 1880s, he was particularly fascinated by the Petrine era — the reigns of both Peter the Great and Alexander II (from 1855 to 1881) were periods of national development and liberal reforms, yet both rulers behaved autocratically and dealt ruthlessly with their opponents.
The conflict between the rights of the individual and the power of the state provides the central drama of two of Surikov’s greatest and most complex works, both painted in the 1880s. In The Morning of the Execution of the Streitsy, Peter the Great, on horseback, surrounded by his retinue, watches with vengeful fury as members of the Streitsy — Russia’s first professional militia, who had tried to block his accession — are taken from tumbrels to gallows erected beside the walls of the Kremlin. The central figure of Surikov’s The Boyarina Morozova is also a rebel — this time a noblewoman, an Old Believer, being dragged away on a sledge to face retribution for persisting in her “heretical” beliefs, while the onlookers jeer or signify their sympathy or respect. In both paintings, Surikov emphasizes the emotions of those caught up in the drama and the impact of history on their lives.
In Menshikov at Beriozov, Surikov depicts Peter the Great’s favourite in exile in Siberia together with his three children, after Peter’s death and the statesman’s fall from grace. The four figures, stripped of wealth and status but still a family, are no less eloquent than the crowds in Surikov’s more dramatic works.
74. Vassily Surikov, Menshikov at Beriozov, 1883.
Oil on canvas, 169 x 204 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
75. Vassily Surikov, The Tsarina visiting a woman’s Convent, 1912.
Oil on canvas, 144 x 202 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
76. Ilya Repin, The Zaporozhyz Cossacks Writting
a Letter to the Turkish Sultan, 1880-1891. Oil on canvas,
203 x 358 cm, Russian Museum, St. Petersburg.
77. Ilya Repin, Ivan the Terrible and his Son on 16 November 1581, 1885.
Oil on canvas, 199.5 x 254 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
78. Vassily Surikov, The Morning of the Execution of the Streltsy, 1878-1881.
Oil on canvas, 218 x 379 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
Unlike Surikov, for Repin history painting was not a prolific area of artistic endeavour. Nevertheless, he made an enormous contribution to it. Several of his paintings probe the psychological truth of historical situations and show an empathy with those whose lives are touched by history.
His painting showing Ivan the Terrible, grief-crazed, hugging the body of his son, whom he has just killed in a fit of rage, vividly depicts the obscene consequences of tyranny. Repin said that he started work on the picture shortly after the execution of the revolutionaries who assassinated Alexander II, and painted it “in fits and starts” with his emotions “overburdened by the horrors of contemporary life”.
Repin’s painting of Peter the Great’s half-sister Sophia, imprisoned in a convent for opposing him, portrays both her undiminished defiance and her anger and horror at the fate of her supporters (the silhouette of a hanged man is visible through the window of her room). In The Zaporozhye Cossacks Writing a Letter to the Turkish Sultan, which focuses on the mirth of the letter writers, Repin invites us to admire the Cossacks’ independent spirit and to share in their enjoyment of their act of effrontery.
Like Surikov and Repin, most history painters of this period were intent on expressing libertarian ideas. In Princess Tarakanova (1864), which shows the beautiful princess forgotten and about to drown as flood waters invade her prison cell, Konstantin Flavitsky dramatised historical events to make a more pointed protest against the callous despotism of the tsars. Perov’s painting depicting the condemnation of Emelyan Pugachev, who led a popular uprising against Catherine the Great, showed his identification with the spirit of peasant revolution. Nevrev, Polenov and many of their contemporaries painted pictures that condemned, directly or indirectly, the plight of the serfs.
The democratic ideals of the Itinerants and their dedication to the pursuit of truth provided a stimulus for Nikolaï Gay, who in the late 1860s had been experiencing a period of uncertainty that inhibited his artistic development. His picture of Peter the Great interrogating his son Alexaï, suspected of treason, marked a turning point in his career. When the painting was shown at the Itinerants’ first exhibition in 1871, it was seen as a celebration of the tsar’s idealism in repressing his paternal feelings for the sake of his country.
79. Ilya Repin, Tsarina Sophia in 1698, a Year after
her Confinement to the Novodievitchi Convent, at the
Time of the Execution and the Torture of All her Servants, 1879.
Oil on canvas, 201.8 x 145.3 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
80. Vassily Surikov, The Boyarina Morozova, 1887.
Oil on canvas, 304 x 587.5 cm, Tretyakov Gallery,
Moscow.
81. Marc Chagall, Soldiers with bread, 1914-1915.
Gouache and watercolor on paper, 50.5 x 37.5 cm,
Collection Zinaïda Gorbeyeva, St. Petersburg.
During the same year, Vassily Vereshchagin (1842-1904) painted his grim masterpiece The Apotheosis of War. A seasoned soldier, he strove through his art to make the world aware of the horrors of the battlefield and the cruelties of colonialism and tsarist terror. Internationally, Vereshchagin was the most widely known of the major Russian painters of his day. He was also one of the few who did not join the Society for Itinerant Art Exhibitions. After spending much of his life observing war at first hand, he died aboard a battleship that exploded during the Russo-Japanese war.
For Aivazovsky and Alexeï Bogoliubov (1824-96), naval warfare provided opportunities to explore the effects of light and to display their mastery of the moods of sea and sky. Both painted numerous pictures of naval engagements involving the Russian fleet.
Different from any of these is the art of Victor Vasnetsov who described himself as “a historical painter with a fantastic bent”. In paintings like the one based on the twelfth-century by/ma (epic poem) recounting the story of Prince Igor’s campaign against the Polovtsy, he built on Russia’s early history and folklore, creating images that have a mythical aura of their own. Many of his paintings — such as his portrayal of Ivan the Terrible, tormented but still every inch a tsar — have a decorative quality reminiscent of Art Nouveau. The monumental mural on the theme of the Stone Age that he painted for the History Museum in Moscow is a masterpiece of composition, brilliantly re-creating the infancy of mankind.
82. Ilya Repin, Formal Session of the State
Council Held to Mark its Centenary on 7 May 1901, 1903.
Oil on canvas, 400 x 877 cm, Russian Museum, St. Petersburg.
83. Boris Kustodiev, Group Portrait of the World of Art Artists, 1916-1920.
Oil on canvas, 52 x 89 cm, Russian Museum, St. Petersburg.
From the 1890s to the Revolutionary Period
One of the strands in the ideology of the World of Art movement was “retrospectivism” — a fascination with the past. In the words of Vsevolod Petrov, “The World of Art introduced into history painting innovations totally unlike anything seen before. Neither style, psychological probing nor social issues played any essential part in the creative thinking of Somov, Benois and their associates… In their historical subjects they sought to convey the elusive flavour and charm of bygone eras, to express that disenchantment with reality, that nostalgic dream of the irretrievable past which assailed the minds and hearts of their milieu. This retrospective glance served as a romantic protest against the petty bourgeois prosaism of the age.”
Such “retrospectivism” is very much in evidence in the works of Alexander Benois, who started a vogue for “historical landscapes”. Many of them depicted places associated with Russian history, including royal palaces and parks, and the architectural and monumental splendours of the past. In addition, Benois was fascinated by Versailles during the time of Louis XIV, resulting in an extensive series of pictures painted at intervals between 1897 and 1922, such as The King’s Walk and Versailles: By the Statue of Curtius.
This preoccupation with “the everyday life, intimacy and aesthetic of history” can be seen in scenes such as Empress Elizabeth Petrovna at Tsarskoe Selo by Yevgeny Lanceray. Lanceray also produced paintings depicting historical events — such as his tension-charged painting showing Elizabeth Petrovna (younger daughter of Peter the Great) on the night she deposed the infant Ivan VI — and historical landscapes such as Saint Petersburg in the Early Eighteenth Century. Lanceray’s penchant for history was encouraged by Benois (his uncle), who took a lively interest in his artistic career.
Like Benois and Lanceray, Valentin Serov sought to convey the flavour of bygone eras, particularly the eighteenth century, but he was also intrigued by the character of historical personalities and the psychological nuances of historical scenes. Soon after joining the World of Art society he received a commission to provide illustrations for Nikolaï Kutepov’s book Royal Hunting in Russia — including one of Peter II and Princess Elizabeth riding to hounds, notable for the momentum of the galloping horses and the contrast between the finery of the riders and the poverty of the peasants watching them pass.
The World of Art painters tended to favour the decorative texture of tempera, pastel, watercolours and gouache rather than the richness of oils, and Serov’s most remarkable historical work is a relatively small tempera painting bearing the unadorned and unqualified title Peter the Great. It shows Peter purposefully striding across the shore of Vassily Island during the building of Saint Petersburg, while his retinue struggle to keep pace with the impatient tsar.
Serov used tempera and charcoal for a series of poignantly satirical pictures prompted by the savage suppression of the Revolution of 1905. On “Bloody Sunday” (9 January 1905) soldiers opened fire on a procession of workers approaching the Winter Palace. Serov’s response was “Soldiers, heroes every one of you, where has your glory gone?”, showing the troops, led by a mounted officer, advancing on the unarmed demonstrators.
84. Victor Vasnetov, Tsar Ivan the Terrible, 1897.
Oil on canvas, 247 x 132 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
85. Yevgeny Lanceray, Empress Elizabeth Petrovna
at Tsurksae Selo, 1905. Gouache on paper mounted
on cardboard, 43.5 x 62 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
86. Ilya Repin, Barge Haulers on the Volga, 1870-1873.
Oil on canvas, 131.5 x 281 cm, Russian Museum, St. Petersburg.
87. Yevgeny Lanceray, Elizabeth Petrovna’s Ascent to
the Throne (Tsarevna Elizabeth Petrovna and Soldiers of the
Preobrazensky Regiment in the Guardroom of the Winter Palace
during the Early Hours of 25 November 1741), 1911.
Tempera on paper, 60 x 83 cm, Art Museum, Odessa.
88. Yevgeny Lanceray, Boats from the Time of Peter the Great, 1911.
Tempera on paper, 64 x 86 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
89. Valentin Serov, Peter the Great Riding to Hounds, 1902.
Tempera on paper mounted on cardboard,
29 x 50 cm, Russian Museum, St. Petersburg.
Two years later, in 1907, Serov visited Greece together with Leon Bakst. Their travels inspired Serov to paint Ulysses and Nausicaä and The Rape of Europa, both of which are remarkable for their aura of timelessness, as well as their adventurous composition and the modulation of their colours. Bakst’s response to their visit was totally different, taking the form of a decorative panel endowed with a vertiginous perspective and a nightmarish intensity that are almost Surrealist. Entitled Terror Antiquus, it depicts an ancient civilization at the moment of destruction.
Like Bakst, Nikolaï Roerich was an exceptionally imaginative stage designer (it was Roerich who designed the sets for Stravinsky’s ballet The Rite of Spring). The scale and decorative possibilities of theatrical design, coupled with an intense interest in Slavic history made him the ideal candidate when it came to commissioning wall panels for Moscow’s new Kazan Railway Station, built in a resplendent amalgam of styles by the architect Alexeï Shchusev between 1913 and 1926. Like Kustodiev’s proposals for the main ceiling, Roerich’s ideas did not go beyond the design stage, but his preparatory paintings indicate how impressive the murals would have been. During the Second World War Roerich used his knowledge of history and legend to patriotic effect, creating works featuring Russian epic heroes and saints.
90. Alexander Benois, Frontispiece for
Pushkin’s poem Bronze Horseman, 1905.
Watercolor heightened with white on paper,
23.7 x 17.6 cm, Pushkin Museum, St. Petersburg.
91. Valentin Serov, Peter the Great, 1907.
Tempera on cardborad, 68.5 x 88 cm,
Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
92. Valentin Serov, Ulysses and Nausicaä, 1910.
89.5 x 101.5 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
93. Yevgeny Lanceray, St. Petersburg
in the Early Eighteenth Century, 1906.
Tempera on canvas, 58.5 x 111.5 cm,
Russian Museum, St. Petersburg.
94. Valentin Serov, The Rape of Europe, 1910.
Tempera on canvas, 71 x 98 cm, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
The two World Wars and the Soviet Revolution inspired numerous documentary and commemorative paintings. Many of these, especially after the promulgation of the dogma of Socialist Realism in 1934, were official commissions. In its initial manifesto, published in 1921, the Association of Artists of Revolutionary Russia (AKhRR) stated that its aim was “to capture, through artistic and documentary means, this supreme moment in history” and to portray “the life of the Red Army, the life of the workers, the peasantry, revolutionary activists, and the heroes of labour”. Dedicated to the continuation of the historical realism of the Itinerants, the association attracted an impressive array of well-known artists, including Arkhipov, Baksheyev, Kasatkin, Kustodiev, Maliutin, PetrovVodkin and Yuon. Kustodiev, who possessed an unusual talent for painting crowd scenes, produced a lively record of the mood of celebration outside the Comintern Congress held in Petrograd in 1920. Petrov-Vodkin’s Death of a Commissar, painted in 1928, provided a pietà-like memorial to those who died during the Russian Civil War.