Wednesday, 29 December 2010

Wladimir Baranoff Rossine

Village Road
January 1, 1888 (s Big Lepatiha Tauride Province) - January 1944 (Auschwitz, Germany).
painter, graphic artist, sculptor, inventor 
Vladimir Baranov came from a bourgeois class. In 1903-1908 he attended the Odessa Art College. In 1908 he arrived in St. Petersburg, where he enrolled in the Academy of Fine Arts, but was not present in the classroom and one year for it was certified.
Since 1907 began to participate in the first avant-garde exhibitions ( "Stephanos" in Moscow, 1907, in conjunction with DD Burliuk, AV Lentulov and A. , A. Exter in the exhibition "Link" in Kiev, 1908; "Wreath-Stephanos" in St. Petersburg, 1909, "The Impressionists" in St. Petersburg, Vilna, Berlin, 1909-1910, exhibition at the Art Bureau of NE Dobychina in Petrograd, 1919).
In 1910 he went to Paris, where he settled in the colony of artists "The Hive" next to M. Chagall, A. Zadkine, A. Archipenko, J. Sutin, A . Modigliani and others. Under the pseudonym Rossini (and then doubling last name) has exhibited in the salons of its futuristic and Suprematist compositions, as well as sculpture - for example, in the Salon of Independent presented the "Symphony number 2" of metal pipes, wires and springs (1914, not preserved). Works Baranova has underlined G. Apollinaire.
In those same years Baranov interested in the idea of music and color synthesis through the use of basic spectral colors and made friends with the founder of Orphism R. Delaunay. Under the influence of Delaunay created such films as "War", "Blue Apocalypse". I became acquainted with Scriabin and wrote his portrait, on which the composer left his autograph: "Musicians paint - Scriabin».
the outbreak of World War II, in 1915 Baranov moved to Scandinavia, he lived in Norway. It finally took shape style of the artist. He designed "optofonicheskoe" piano and held it first concerts in Christiania (now - Oslo) and Stockholm. In the Norwegian capital held and the first personal exhibition of works Baranova.
In 1917, after returning to Russia, Baranov settled in Moscow, where he was a professor teaching at the Higher Artistic-Technical Workshops (Higher Art School), served in the Commissariat of Education at the College of Arts and the art industry, led workshop in PGSHUM.
the same time worked in Petrograd: performed revolutionary panels, participated in the decoration of the city for the first anniversary in October (co-authored with BM Kustodiev and KS Petrov -- Vodkin). Also in 1917, introduced more than 60 of his works in the exhibition at the Art Bureau Dobychina (Petrograd), as well as the exhibition of paintings and sculptures by artists of the Jews (Moscow).
Developing ideas Orphism, in early 1920 Baranov turned to the designs of light and Scriabin. He designed a piano - advanced optophone, for each key which had fixed some sound and color. The light through the optical filters are projected on the so-called "hromotron" (screen).
first "Optofonicheskie color-visual concert" with a libretto by its creator had in the theater of Vsevolod Meyerhold (1923) and the Bolshoi Theater (1924). The author himself played an instrument "Party of the world" as arranged by the Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Female.
In 1925 Baranov settled in Paris, where the patent, and actively demonstrated his invention. There he continued to hold optofonicheskie concerts. Founded Optofonicheskuyu Academy, which dealt with audio-visual research and teaching.
In 1930 Baranov-Rossine invented and other aggregates, such as "hromofotomer" (for checking the quality of precious stones) and "multiperko" (for production and purification of chemical solutions, sterilization carbonated liquids patented in 1934), as well as "dynamic camouflage (to hide troops, patented in 1939).
In the field of sculpture and painting Baranov-Rossine in this period created a series of abstract compositions, firmly associated with musical associations. In these compositions used the principle of "Möbius strip", polychrome and various kinds of materials and textures. Baranov was interested in any of the latest picturesque streams, particularly Surrealism. Regularly exhibited at the Salon of Independent.
the sake of earning the artist had to do business, one time Baranov selling real estate.
Since the beginning of World War II, Baranov refused to leave France. In November 1943, when Paris was occupied, the artist as a Jew was arrested and taken to Germany, where he died in a Nazi concentration camp Auschwitz.
In Russia creativity Baranova-Rossine been long forgotten. But now, interest in him revived, due, probably, more attention to the pictures of the artist abroad. In 1954 the Salon of Independent gave a posthumous exhibition Baranova-Rossine.
Exhibitions held in Paris (1970, 1972/1973, 1984), London (1970), as well as in the State Tretyakov Gallery in Russia in 2004.
Works Baranova-Rossine are in the State Tretyakov Gallery, State Russian Museum, the Museum of Modern Art in New York, the Pompidou Center in Paris, the Museum Ludwig in Cologne.

Tuesday, 28 December 2010

Yermak's conquest of Siberia

Vasily Ivanovich Surikov (1848 - 1916)
Yermak's conquest of Siberia
Oil on canvas, 1895
599*285 сm
The Russian Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia

Sunday, 26 December 2010

Decembrist Revolt

On December 26, 1825, the Decembrist Revolt against autocracy and serfdom broke out in Senate Square in St. Petersburg. The uprising was in marked contrast to the era of palace coup plots and had a strong resonance in Russia's society which had much influence on public and political life in the ensuing reign of Tsar Nicholas I.

The first secret political society in Russia, which eventually formed the nucleus of what would become the Decembrist movement, was the Union of Salvation, established in St. Petersburg in 1816. The organization was headed by Aleksandr Muravev, Nikita Muravev, Sergey Trubetskoy, Ivan Yakushkin and Pavel Pestel -- all officers and members of the high nobility. The search for ways of eliminating autocracy and serfdom led to the formation of a much larger group, numbering around 200 members, the Union of Welfare in 1818.

For some time its activities were chiefly concerned with propaganda and the enrollment of new members. However, diverse views within the group led to it being almost dissolved completely in 1821. Nevertheless, two new groups continued to function secretly.

The first, the Northern Society, was situated in St. Petersburg and consisted of moderate reformists who leaned toward the establishment of a constitutional monarchy headed by Sergey Trubetskoy and Nikita Muravev. The second, the Southern Society, was established by Pavel Pestel and gathered more radical members, who demanded complete eradication of the existing system and establishment of a republic. However, both groups interacted with each other and regarded themselves as part of one organization.

A united action against the tsarist regime by the Southern Society and the Northern Society was planned for 1826. However, Alexander I's death in November 1825 and the accession of a new tsar to the throne forced the conspirators to move up the date of the revolt. By that time the Decembrists had fully accepted the idea of overthrowing the government by force and establishing a new political order. It was agreed that the revolution was to take place on the day the Senate was to take oath of allegiance to the new Tsar Nicholas I.

On December 26, 1825, over 3,000 people had gathered on Senate Square in St. Petersburg. In the course of the revolt, there was a hitch that proved to be fatal for the rebels. The leader of the uprising, who was supposed to take command of all troops assembled on the square -- the so-called “dictator,” Trubetskoy -- failed to appear at the most decisive moment. Left rudderless, the soldiers did not know what to do, and thereafter began what became known as the “Standing Revolution.”

The rebels, “brought to the Square like sheep while the leaders had hidden themselves,” as one of the Decembrists complained, stood around aimlessly. The election of a new leader dragged out into the evening hours and by that time the government had gathered its loyal troops around the square.

For a while the government hesitated to use force and tried to end the situation by persuasion, but this attempt failed. Nicholas, who himself was on the square, gave the order to open fire.

No one knows the exact number of victims. Those who succeeded in escaping were pursued and most of them captured. Around 300 people were convicted, five were hanged and more than 120 were sent to Siberia for hard labor or settlement. The “revolution” came to an end. The throne had been saved and the reign of Nicholas I commenced.

The revolution attempt of 1825 was very short lived and was without any apparent significance. However, it marked a turning point in the Russian revolutionary movement, due to its introduction of influential and intellectually advanced individuals into the battle against autocracy, and it became the source of inspiration for succeeding generations.

December, 26 in history – Russiapedia

Memorial to Decembrists, station square of Yalutorovsk [Svrd], Tyumen region

Saturday, 18 December 2010

Tobolsk: Siberia’s first capital

Although Tyumen is now the capital of the vast territory that bears its name, this region was for much of its history ruled from Tobolsk, whose citadel overlooked the high right bank of the Irtysh River. Of the many rivers that run through Siberia, none has more historical and emotional resonance than the Irtysh, a tributary of the mighty Ob River and a critical artery for Russian movement into Siberia.

It was near the Irtysh that a hardy band of Cossacks, led by the legendary Yermak and supported by the Stroganovs from their fortress in Solvychegodsk, defeated the Tatar troops of Khan Kuchum in 1582. Although the precise dates are questioned by historians, it seems that in the fall of 1581, Yermak captured Chingi-Tura (later Tyumen), but abandoned his conquest in order to proceed straight to Kashlyk, capital of Khan Kuchum, where there occurred the epochal battle memorialized in a painting by Ivan Surikov. Yermak was himself killed in a surprise raid in 1584 and his conquests remained temporarily unconsolidated after his death. But Tsar Boris Godunov was aware of the enormous significance of Siberia, and launched an aggressive campaign to establish settlements. Tobolsk was founded in 1587 by the Cossack leader Daniel Chulkov at the confluence of the Tobol and Irtysh Rivers, near the site of Yermak's victory....

Russia Beyond the Headlines

Friday, 17 December 2010

Naval Base in Gadzhiyevo

More photos here.

Gadzhiyevo (Russian: Гаджиево) is a closed town in Murmansk Oblast, Russia. The town was also known as Yagelnaya Guba (Я́гельная Губа́) until 1967, Skalisty (Скали́стый) from 1981 to 1994, although it was often referred to as Murmansk-130 (Му́рманск-130). The name Skalisty was made official in 1994, but in 1999 the town was renamed back to Gadzhiyevo—the name it bore from 1967 to 1981. The settlement was named in honor of Magomet Gadzhiyev, a distinguished World War II submarine Commanding Officer. Population: 12,180 (2002 Census).[1] Wikipedia

Tuesday, 7 December 2010

Dostoevsky's Historic Speech In Honor of Pushkin

In 1880, shortly before he died, Dostoevsky gave his famous Pushkin speech at the unveiling of the Pushkin monument in Moscow. Dostoevsky delivered his speech on the last of the three days of celebration. Turgeniev had spoken on the previous evening, and in spite of his eminence had been coolly received. His assessment of Pushkin had been too detached for the taste of his emotional audience. Dostoevsky, in contrast, gripped everybody from the start with his fervour.


PUSHKIN is an extraordinary phenomenon, and, perhaps, the unique phenomenon of the Russian spirit, said Gogol. I will add, ‘and a prophetic phenomenon.’ Yes, in his appearing there is contained for all us Russians, something incontestably prophetic. Pushkin arrives exactly at the beginning of our true selfconsciousness, which had only just begun to exist a whole century after Peter’s reforms, and Pushkin’s coming mightily aids us in our dark way by a new guiding light. In this sense Pushkin is a presage and a prophecy.

I divide the activity of our great poet into three periods. I speak now not as a literary critic. I dwell on Pushkin’s creative activity only to elucidate my conception of his prophetic significance to us, and the meaning I give the word prophecy. I would, however, observe in passing that the periods of Pushkin’s activity do not seem to me to be marked off from each other by firm boundaries. The beginning of Eugene Onyegin, for instance, in my opinion belongs still to the first period, while Onyegin ends in the second period, when Pushkin had already found his ideals in his native land, had taken them to his heart and cherished them in his loving and clairvoyant soul. It is said that in his first period Pushkin imitated European poets, Parny and André Chénier, and above all, Byron. Without doubt the poets of Europe had a great influence upon the development of his genius, and they maintained their influence all through his life. Nevertheless, even the very earliest poems of Pusbkin were not mere imitations, and in them the extraordinary independence of his genius was expressed. In an imitation there never appears such individual suffering and such depths of self- consciousness as Pushkin displayed, for instance, in The Gipsies, a poem which I ascribe in its entirety to his first period; not to mention the creative force and impetuosity which would never have been so evident had his work been only imitation. Already, in the character of Aleko, the hero of The Gipsies, is exhibited a powerful, profound, and purely Russian idea, later to be expressed in harmonious perfection in Onyegin, where almost the same Aleko appears not in a fantastic light, but as tangible, real and comprehensible. In Aleko Pushkin had already discovered, and portrayed with genius, the unhappy wanderer in his native land, the Russian sufferer of history, whose appearance in our society, uprooted from among the people, was a historic necessity. The type is true and perfectly rendered, it is an eternal type, long since settled in our Russian land. These homeless Russian wanderers are wandering still, and the time will be long before they disappear. If they in our day no longer go to gipsy camps to seek their universal ideals in the wild life of the gipsies and their consolation away from the confused and pointless life of our Russian intellectuals, in the bosom of nature, they launch into Socialism, which did not exist in Aleko’s day, they march with a new faith into another field, and there work zealously, believing, like Aleko, that they will by their fantastic occupations obtain their aims and happiness, not for themselves alone, but for all mankind. For the Russian wanderer can find his own peace only in the happiness of all men; he will not be more cheaply satisfied, at least while it is still a matter of theory. It is the same Russian man who appears at a different time. This man, I repeat, was born just at the beginning of the second century after Peter’s great reforms, in an intellectual society, uprooted from among the people. Oh, the vast majority of intellectual Russians in Pushkin’s time were serving then as they are serving now, as civil servants, in government appointments, in railways or in banks, or earning money in whatever way, or engaged in the sciences, delivering lectures—all this in a regular, leisurely, peaceful manner, receiving salaries, playing whist, without any longing to escape into gipsy camps or other places more in accordance with our modern times. They go only so far as to play the liberal, ‘with a tinge of European Socialism’, to which Socialism is given a certain benign Russian character—but it is only a matter of time: What if one has not yet begun to be disturbed, while another has already come up against a bolted door and violently beaten his head against it? The same fate awaits all men in their turn unless they walk in the saving road of humble communion with the people. But suppose that this fate does not await them all: let ‘the chosen’ suffice, let only a tenth part be disturbed lest the vast majority remaining should find no rest through them. Aleko, of course, is still unable to express his anguish rightly: with him everything is still somehow abstract; he has only a yearning after nature, a grudge against high society, aspirations for all men, lamentations for the truth, which someone has somewhere lost, and he can by no means find. Wherein is this truth, where and in what she could appear, and when exactly she was lost, he, of course, cannot say, but he suffers sincerely. In the meantime a fantastic and impatient person seeks for salvation above all in external phenomena; and so it should be. Truth is as it were somewhere outside himself, perhaps in some other European land, with their firm and historical political organizations and their established social and civil life. And he will never understand that the truth is first of all within himself. How could he understand this? For a whole century he has not been himself in his own land. He has forgotten how to work, he has no culture, he has grown up like a convent schoolgirl within closed walls, he has fulfilled strange and unaccountable duties according as he belonged to one or another of the fourteen classes into which educated Russian society is divided. For the time being he is only a blade of grass torn from the roots and blown through the air. And he feels it, and suffers for it, suffers often acutely! Well, what if, perhaps belonging by birth to the nobility and probably possessing serfs, he allowed himself a nobleman’s liberty, the pleasant fancy of being charmed by men who live ‘without laws’, and began to lead a performing bear in a gipsy camp? Of course a woman, ‘a wild woman’, as a certain poet says, would be most likely to give him hope of a way out of his anguish, and with an easy-going, but passionate belief, he throws himself into the arms of Zemphira. ‘Here is my way of escape; here I can find happiness, here in the bosom of nature far from the world, here with people who have neither civilization nor law.’ And what happens? He cannot endure his first collision with the conditions of this wild nature, and his hands are stained with blood. The wretched dreamer was not only unfitted for universal harmony, but even for gipsies, and they drive him away—without vengeance, without malice, with simple dignity.

Leave us, proud man,
We are wild and without law,
We torture not, neither do we punish.

This is, of course, all fantastic, but the proud man is real, his image sharply caught. Pushkin was the first to seize the type, and we should remember this. Should anything happen in the least degree not to his liking, he is ready to torment cruelly and punish for the wrong done to him, or, more comfortable still, he will remember that he belongs to one of the fourteen classes, and will himself call upon—this has happened often—the torturing and punishing law, if only his private wrong may be revenged. No, this poem of genius is not an imitation! Here already is whispered the Russian solution of the question, ‘the accursed question’, in accordance with the faith and justice of the people. ‘Humble yourself, proud man, and first of all break down your pride. Humble yourself, idle man, and first of all labour on your native land’—that is the solution according to the wisdom and justice of the people. ‘Truth is not outside thee, but in thyself. Find thyself in thyself, subdue thyself to thyself, be master of thyself and thou wilt see the truth. Not in things is this truth, not outside thee or abroad, but first of all in thine own labour upon thyself. If thou conquer and subdue thyself, then thou wilt be freer than thou hast ever dreamed, and thou wilt begin a great work and make others free, and thou wilt see happiness, for thy life will be fulfilled and thou wilt at the last understand thy people and its sacred truth. Not with the Gipsies nor elsewhere is universal harmony, if thou thyself art first unworthy of her, malicious and proud, and thou dost demand life as a gift, not even thinking, that man must pay for her.’ This solution of the question is strongly foreshadowed in Pushkin’s poem. Still more dearly is it expressed in Eugene Onyegin, which is not a fantastic, but a tangible and realistic poem, in which the real Russian life is embodied with a creative power and a perfection such as had not been before Pushkin and perhaps never after him. ...