Red flag
El Lissitzky ‘Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge’ (1920) The David King Collection at Tate
Top image: El Lissitzky ‘Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge’ (1920) The David King Collection at Tate
Capturing the wild surge of revolutionary creativity, Tate Modern’s Red Star Over Russia explores the complex visual elements that led towards the formation of the nation’s political identity between 1905-1955, and its ongoing influence on today’s art world.
Taking place in 2017, the exhibition’s timing is apt. After all, this year marks the centenary of the October Revolution, when the Bolsheviks – led by Vladimir Lenin – dismantled the Tsarist autocracy and created the world’s first communist state: Soviet Russia. What followed was an era of authority, control and propaganda.
A time of great change, this was reflected in the nation’s visual narrative. Drawing from the collection of David King, a British graphic artist and writer, Tate’s new exhibition explores the nuances of these works. From the stark simplicity of El Lissitzky’s angled works – required to communicate across the Eurasian region – to artistic couples such as Gustav Klutsis and Valentina Kulagina, who through their avant-garde visions utilised simplified shapes and pure colours to create a radical form of popular art.
Tracing the artistic legacy of Soviet Russia, the images communicate a turbulent narrative that speaks of political upheaval, revolution and hope. “It is about the power that images have in creating narratives and shaping perceptions of an event or a whole period of history,” says assistant curator Dina Akhmadeeva (below), and that’s the hook to today’s world. A world where the image of Ed Miliband eating a bacon sandwich can alter elections and Nilüfer Demir’s harrowing photo of the three year-old Syrian refugee, Alan Kurdi, laying dead on a beach can be seen across the globe in a matter of seconds.
Here, we talk to Akhmadeeva about Soviet Russia’s visual langauge, its use within politics and how it has influenced today’s art scene.
GALLERY
Aïsha Diomandé: Interestingly, Russia is a vast country that contains extremes in terms of political ideologies and cultural differences — how did the curatorial team approach the challenge of synthesising the essential elements for the exhibition?
Dina Akhmadeeva: In terms of process, it was incredible. Just to give you a bit of backstory, David King had amassed this collection over the course of 40 years. He started collecting during the 1970s, when it was still very, very difficult to acquire. He was initially commissioned to include an image of Trotsky for a piece for The Sunday Times, and he couldn’t find one. So as you did in the 70s, he just thought, “Oh ok, I’m going to Russia now!” I think that’s what sparked this fascination for him, and so by the time we get to 2016-17, when we were selecting images for the exhibition, we were working on the basis of 250,00 objects, and it was the case of us working with an uncatalogued collection. While we were working on it, it was the case of going through boxes… David had an amazing logic to this material, and it was still the case of, “What are we going to find today?” Luckily, two of the curators for this show had been working with David on the collection for a very long time, so they had a really good sense of what was in the collection, but it was still absolutely full of surprises!
Aïsha: The striking boldness of the posters suggest a violent merging of the political and artistic frames of view, why was this a powerful method at the time?
Dina: Living in this day and age, we have a sense of how powerful images can be, how images can be used to shape particular narratives, how perceptions of something can change on the basis of a few images and how images themselves can be manipulated. Some of the most striking artists and graphic designers of the period had a real knack for how an image can communicate with the viewer in a direct way, so it was about striking typography, it was about composition, it was about using some of the newest printing techniques in order to produce some of the striking colour images that we see in publications such as USSR in Construction, or Industry of Socialism. So we’re talking about El Lissitzky, we’re talking about Aleksandr Rodchenko and also people like Varvara Stepanova and Valentina Kulagina, women are just as important for us in the show as the producers of these kinds of images.
Valentina Kulagina ‘Soviet Union Art Exhibition’ (1931) Ne boltai! Collection
Aïsha: A break with the past fuelled the Revolution as a response to the autocratic rule – effectively dismantling the legacy of Nicholas II, who was seen as the ‘Little Father’ of Russia. However, do you think that there was a continuation in the process of ‘myth building’ behind the depictions of the Soviet leaders?
Dina: Absolutely. And the role that images played in constructing those cults of leaders is absolutely central, it was one of the central tasks of the artists of this period. So there’s a photographic album that charts the building of the Lenin Mausoleum, and actually when Lenin died in 1924, the plan was not to commemorate him in this way, it was against his wishes, and the wishes of his wife. But the party subsequently decided to create this shrine to Lenin, and you could go see the body of the leader –it somehow radiated this almost mystical centre, he was the body of the Revolution in a way. Stalin was somebody who very much used images to build himself up into the image of himself as how he wanted himself to be seen by others. In Room Two we have some amazing maquettes by a designer called Gustav Klutsis, and he very much helped to build Stalin up into that strong, powerful leader who was to be loved and adored… but Klutsis’ story speaks to some of the tragedies of the period. Whilst he helped to build up the image of Stalin, he was subsequently purged in the Terrors of the 1930s, so nobody was safe.
Aïsha: In this propaganda, why was the motif of the worker vital?
Dina: The aim was to create a classless society, in a way… or rather, the aim was to celebrate the working classes as the leaders of the revolution. So that’s why the image of the worker was so important – suddenly they were the people who the Revolution was supposed to have served in a way. So our lead image in the exhibition is a poster by Adolf Strakhov-Braslavsky called The Emancipated Woman is Building Socialism, you can tell that she’s a worker woman because she is wearing a kerchief on her head, she’s carrying a banner and she comes striding forward valiantly into a brighter tomorrow. It’s about women workers just as much as male workers, to create an image celebrating a class that would be at the forefront of the revolution.
Aïsha: In that case, how important were women to the movement?
Dina: I think that women were absolutely integral. They were integral for Communism and, specifically, for art production as well. It was about getting women to participate within society on equal terms – that was the aspiration. So it’s about women participating in politics, in labour and becoming active workers. Of course it was also about creating new generations as well, but there’s a real sense of women becoming active participants in society and this is what the ideology was encouraging very strongly.
Soviet School, ‘Nightmare of Future Wars’ (1920s) The David King Collection at Tate
Aïsha: What is its legacy within modern Russian art today?
Dina: Well, the exhibition really tried to convey that there’s a relevance which is more general. It is about the power that images have in creating narratives and shaping perceptions of an event or a whole period of history. I think that this is where the relevance of the exhibition might be and artists and visitors will really see something that resonates with them on that level, because it speaks to today. On the 25th November we’re going to have an associated event with the exhibition where three contemporary Russian artists will be invited to speak about the role that this material has played within their own work, so maybe you can find out about it then.
Red Star Over Russia: A Revolution in Visual Culture 1905-55 runs at Tate Modern, London, until 18th February.