On Russian Art

Disclaimer: These images were hunted down from the web, not taken by me.

Regardless of whether or not their ashtrays or cups are overflowing, Russian faces are overflowing with character and emotion like dogs at a pound. They are not afraid to let you know how they feel. This is perhaps why Russian art is so moving. To understand Shishkin or Vereshagin you’ll need more than two good eyes, you’ll need a good heart. The ability of such artists to convey the struggle of people through centuries of war and famine can only be explained to you in the Tetryakovsky Gallery. The art is raw and rough like Tolstoy’s hands from ploughing his field (Repin) or the blood of Ivan the Terrible’s son on his father’s hands (Vereshagin). In one gallery you will sit and stare in awe at Horsewoman in the next you will rush through scores if 16^th century painters and in the next you may weep only to escape to “A Land of Eternal Peace” or Volkov’s “October.” Each room is overpowering with those Russia faces staring at you, “this is who I am, who are you?” Kind of like the Moscow metro.

Random thoughts that came to me while in the gallery:

The best art is that which moves.

I’d rather them tell me art, not man, is proof that god exists.

Imagine the desire to paint a salt bearing mule in the Himalayas for the people of Moscow in 1894.

Once you see it, you feel it long after you’ve walked away.

You need more than two good eyes to experience great art,

you need a good heart.

Check Out:

Karl Briullov, “Horsewoman”

Mikhail Nesterov, ” Hermit” (1889)

Ilya Repin, ” Portrait of Leo Tolstoy as a Ploughman on a Field” (1887)

Vasilij Vereshchagin, Display of Trophies (1871-72)

Ivan Shishkin, “Tree Felling”