An Update: Afterthoughts on Two Annual ExhibitionsAuthor(s): Valery StigneevSource: Art Journal, Vol. 53, No. 2, Contemporary Russian Art Photography (Summer, 1994),pp. 31-32Published by: College Art AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/777480 .

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An Update Afterthoughts on Two Annual Exhibitions

Valery Stigneev

oon after our country began its groping advance

through post-Soviet history toward a market economy, Russian photographers realized that they had two

crises on their hands. This realization came to many as a

surprise. Some still wonder what to make of it. The first was an economic crisis. To enjoy their newly

acquired creative freedom and to operate as artists, photog- raphers now had to rely exclusively on their own resources: the old days of government support, small as it was and with

many strings attached, were over, and the prices of materials and equipment began a nonstop climb. Pressure on the part of consumers of photographs, such as publishers and adver-

tisers, often induced Russian art photographers to adapt to the very crude demands of their new patrons and the new economic realities of everyday life.

Even more disconcerting to some photographers was the apparent ideological crisis. The collapse of the old myths and values imposed by the totalitarian regime left a gaping abyss in its stead. The photojournalists, especially those with a taste for sensation, had, at least for a while, the time of their life documenting many previously tabooed subjects in the vortex of events that followed perestroika. Alas, the thrill was not enduring.

One particular aspect of the crisis was that the photo- graphic community, especially those members of it calling themselves artists, was suddenly deprived of its most influen- tial "sponsor"-the totalitarian state. For all the nasty things justly attributed to them, censors and some other agents of the Soviet state performed one significant function: for de- cades they inspired artists to look for ever new ways of

challenging Communist ideals and asserting their ideological independence in the face of totalitarian pressure. In the new

situation, the search for personal ethical and aesthetic ideals

proved quite a problem for not a few artists. In an attempt to meet this and other challenges, Rus-

sian photographers set up the Russian Union of Art Photogra- phers. It is noteworthy that RUAP is not very popular with commercial photographers, with photojournalists, or with

conceptual photographers (even though all three categories are represented among its members). Instead, the union relies upon the elite of the amateur movement in the country, a group that was the mainstay of art photography in Russia in the period between the 1960s and 1980s.

In setting up an association of their own, the amateurs introduced organizational weaknesses inherent in photo clubs and, at the same time, elements of creative thinking that have always distinguished them from the professionals. An air of amateurishness has marked all RUAP projects during this period, including the two major artistic events- the 1991 and 1992 annual exhibitions in Smolensk and Mo- scow respectively. The concept of an annual show is an old Soviet "report on the work accomplished during the period under review." That was the most popular form of display among various artistic unions created by Stalin for the Soviet

intelligentsia in the early 1930s. The RUAP organizers of the 1991 and 1992 annual

exhibitions appear to have aimed at an ambitious goal-to present to the general public all there was in contemporary Russian photography. At both exhibits one saw new ap- proaches to photo documentaries, works emulating photo- graphic classics, works whose authors openly declared their

31

FIG. 1 Galina Moskaleva, from the series Reminiscences from Childhood, 1992, sepia-toned multiple-image photograph. Collection of the artist. Moskaleva was named an Honored Photographer by RUAP in 1993.

ART JOURNAL

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32

interest in formal problems alone, and, finally, works explor- ing fresh possibilities in experimentation that also dealt with substantive issues. The photographs for both shows were selected by a special group within RUAP-the art council, a collective of fifteen very different artists who reviewed some two or three hundred portfolios submitted by members and a few dozen portfolios from people who wanted to join the

organization. The selected works, more than three hundred

photographs, were then handed over to a hanging committee. A few days later, the show was on the wall.

The notion of an exhibition curator who spends some time developing the concept of a show and researching the material for it does not seem acceptable to most RUAP artists. Such a curatorial practice is seen as unwarranted and un- democratic in theory and burdensome and time-consuming in practice. In the absence of any concept, the selection on the wall combines works influenced by elements of new

photographic thinking with those inspired by the more tradi- tional aesthetic values. In other words, innovation is diluted but not blended with tradition.

In Russia, evolution in the arts does not keep pace with social and economic changes. Hence, it is not unfair to maintain that the "Soviet period" in the history of Russian

photography has not yet ended. A flashback to the photo- graphic scene in the 1980s shows that both officially en- dorsed photography, which appeared at large government- sponsored exhibitions, and nonofficial photography, i.e., works displayed primarily at professional gatherings or smaller shows, relied on the same photographic language. Moreover, the overwhelming majority of RUAP artists today use it still. This perseverance with tradition is commendable

FIG. 2 Vladimir Shakhlevich, from the series Act IV, 1989, hand-colored photograph. Collection of the artist. Shakhlevich was named an Honored Photographer by RUAP in 1993.

FIG. 3 Valery Shchekoldin, Orphanage for Retarded Children, Ulianovsk Region, 1990, black-and-white photograph. Collection of the artist. Shchekoldin was named an Honored Photographer by RUAP in 1993.

insofar as it helps an author to realize his or her ideals. One

recalls, however, that the fetishization of tradition, a salient trait of the Soviet mentality, was something that the powers that be in Russia had insisted upon since the early 1930s.

The social reportage of Alexander Rodchenko and Boris Ignatovich actually helped in the nurturing of a "new man" and the inculcation of the spirit of collectivism, vitality, and optimism in the masses. Cleansed of the excesses of

Constructivism, the social reportage of the 1970s as prac- ticed by such patriarchs of the genre as Dmitri Baltermants or Antoli Shurikhin proved impotent against the propagan- distic bid to instill in the minds of the masses the notion of the

emergence of a "new historical entity, the Soviet people." Today's leading "social reporters" from among the members of RUAP appear to be doing even worse in trying (if, indeed, they are trying) to interpret with the means at their disposal the complex and conflicting changes engulfing Russian

society. One important change in the psychology of the Russian

intelligentsia is illustrated in the work of the poet Bulat Okudzava. In the late 1970s, he epitomized the sentiments of that social group in a song that almost instantly became a chant: "Let's hold hands, friends, so we don't die one by one." In a very recent poem Okudzava admits that he no

longer wants to "hold hands" with friends. An exhibition as an annual report is perhaps no longer an appropriate venue to reflect on such themes. Or maybe the time has come to develop a new means of photographic communication

altogether. Translation by Sergei Gitman.

SUMMER 1994

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