While living in the Soviet Union, Ernst Neizvestny did not consider himself a dissident. He saw the harassment and insults from the political leadership as “local excesses” and a manifestation of the “uncultured” nomenklatura. But Neizvestny had had enough of the totalitarian system. And he knew the price of freedom in every sense. And that, in fact, was why he left.
Natalia Nesterova created her very recognizable, distinctive contemplative neo-primitivism almost 50 years ago. And her language remains contemporary even today. Her paintings are a conversation about life here and now. She tries more often to remind of modest pleasures and moments of happiness. Nesterova does not reproach or educate. Her paintings are about rejoicing in good weather, pleasant company, delicious food and the opportunity to travel to interesting places.
Thirty years ago, Valery Koshlyakov, together with Avdey Ter-Oganyan, were associates in the “Art or Death” partnership. The artists lived, worked and organized exhibitions in the legendary squat on Trekhprudny Lane. Today, Valery Koshlyakov is already a classic of contemporary Russian art. He lives and works in Paris. And auction prices for some of his works are approaching $ 150,000.
The artists of the duo Komar and Melamid are known primarily as the inventors of Sots Art, which they coined in 1972. The term itself is a combination of “pop-art” and “socialist realism”. But unlike American pop-art, which drove advertising to the point of absurdity, Vitaly Komar and Alexander Melamid came up with the idea of bringing symbols of ideological propaganda to the point of absurdity.
Why did Nikolina Gora become such a place of power in Zverev's work? Oksana Aseeva had a dacha in this picturesque village near Moscow. She was a widow of the poet Nikolay Aseev, a friend of Mayakovsky. A woman of progressive views, she was the “muse of Russian futurism”. But today we often think of her as the muse of Anatoly Zverev. Zverev loved to visit Nikolina Gora, lived in pleasant company and worked with pleasure.
Before us is a profound philosophical reflection on human destiny. What does man live for? What is his purpose? To preserve himself and savor the joys of life? Or to bear a burden? Or is all life a preparation for a feat? Ernst Neizvestny's favorite personages and protagonists of his works are people of the mission, restless, seeking, ready for self-sacrifice. Those who live not for joy, but for conscience. His heroes are icaruses and prometheuses. Devotees, flying into the sun and bringing light to people.
In his essay on the artist's work, Valery Silaev very aptly compares Bukh to a volcano, and his painting method to the boiling lava. Bukh was tuning himself for some time, he was getting psyched up. And then he rushed into action — quickly and expressively. He mixed paints on canvas, spread them with fingers and brush, rubbed with newspapers and rags. His work was a physiological necessity. From morning till night. If finished paintings were not picked up in time, sometimes the artist painted them anew.
A masterpiece by the acknowledged master of Kafkaesque romance. The most valuable period. 1975. Large size. The highest degree of elaboration. Absolutely museum level. Looking at this soft, sublime painting, it is difficult to suggest that painting for Sveshnikov in the late 1940s — early 1950s was a way of preserving sanity in the harsh conditions of the camp. The young artist, tormented by hunger and illness, imagined and painted imaginary worlds. In the evenings in the barracks, after hard work, ladies and gentlemen would begin to twirl on sheets of paper. And their gallant pas was watched by the death-girlfriend.
A one-meter canvas, a main theme and a ringing title: “Steel Soul”. An unquestionable museum level. Neizvestny is one of the main representatives of unofficial post-war art. A legend. “Steel Soul” belongs to the fertile period of Neizvestny's first years in exile, a period in which he was able to reproduce in material many of the ideas that were conceived in his homeland.
Regular viewers of our channel know that Sveshnikov's “grave” stories are a complex dispute with fate, a form of the “vanitas” genre — a reflection on the meaning, purpose and frailty of life. He knew what he was talking about, because more than once he was on the verge of life and death.