These days, the news that an exhibition of paintings by one or more local artists will be held in Kharkiv is unlikely to surprise anyone. But in the early 20th century, such exhibitions were a truly exceptional event.
Not long ago, I wrote about a significant event that took place in Kharkiv 119 years ago and had a profound impact on the city’s cultural life. Today, I’d like to discuss it in a bit more detail. Let’s start with the fact that in early 1900, the so-called “Circle of Local Artists” was formed in Kharkiv, though it did not have official status. Then, from January 6 to February 2, the first exhibition of paintings by local artists took place at the Kharkiv Museum of Art and Industry, thanks to the efforts of Alexander Nikolaevich Vyezhev, a native of Zmiiv and the circle’s organizer.
It should be noted that by this time, its chief organizer was already quite well known. Alexander Nikolaevich received his initial art education in 1870–1871 at the Kharkiv School of Drawing and Painting, and continued his studies at the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts. In the years that followed, Vyezhev took an active part in academic exhibitions, and beginning in 1890, his paintings could also be seen at exhibitions held throughout the country by the “Society of the Peredvizhniki.” Vyezzhev’s paintings and sketches—“On the Way to a Distant Place,” “Gypsy Camp,” “Across the Sea,” “Morning Prayer in a Monastery,” “Khoroshev,” “Kharkiv from the Southeast,” “Hayloft,” “The Wrath of God,” etc., presented at the exhibition, did not hold much interest for the Kharkiv public, as they were already well known to them.
On the other hand, the works of other artists from our city and region pleasantly surprised and delighted the audience. For example, they were particularly taken with a sketch of a woman’s head and a portrait of a man by Nikolai Mitrofanovich Uvarov, a wonderful portraitist, graphic artist, and master of easel painting.
Already familiar to us from the article “Ilya Repin and ‘The Man in the Hat’” Vasily Filippovich Levi, as a budding amateur artist, exhibited his paintings “September” and “A Drunkard from the Night Shelter” at the exhibition. Regarding the latter, incidentally, critics wrote that, despite some technical shortcomings, the painting is distinguished by the artist’s extreme psychological insight and keen observation. Among the landscapes, the most outstanding were “Spring Evening,” “The Marsh,” “The Oskol River,” “Summer Day,” “Native Places,” “Snow,” and so on, by another of our fellow countrymen, Kalestin Mikhailovich Solomakha. Among the still lifes—which were then called “dead nature”—the top honors went to three paintings: “Fruits,” “Vegetables,” and “Strawberries on the Vine,” all by the artist Yevdokim Ignatyevich Voloshinov. This is not at all surprising—scholars of his work note in their studies that “Voloshinov was one of the first artists, not only among Ukrainians but also among Russians, to create still lifes en plein air, depicting flowers and fruits in their natural settings.” In still lifes of that time, the primary goal was usually to convey the essence of the chosen subject in isolation. E. I. Voloshinov, anticipating the achievements of early 20th-century artists, took the still life “out into the open air,” under the open sky, placing it in a space filled with light and air, and making its perception a reflection of a specific person’s worldview and way of life.”
Vasily Parfenovich Karpov, a correspondent for the newspapers *Kharkiv Provincial Gazette* and *Yuzhny Krai*, participated in the exhibition. Not only did he masterfully cover all kinds of cultural events in his articles, but he also loved to paint himself. Today, he is best known for his book *Kharkiv of Old: From the Memoirs of a Long-Time Resident*, which has been reprinted several times. Back in 1900, Karpov exhibited eight of his paintings for public viewing, in which he celebrated the natural beauty of Dergachi, Kochek, and Crimea. Pyotr Alekseevich Levchenko, a master of interior compositions who was already quite well-known by that time, also took an interest in the exhibition. Interestingly, among the exhibition’s main features, critics particularly noted that amateur artists had outshone professional artists. Both in artistic terms and in terms of the number of exhibits, the Kharkiv exhibition, by general consensus, surpassed the level of a provincial event. Thus, the exhibition was not only an important event in the city’s cultural life but also for the Russian Empire as a whole at that time.
At that time, one could read such enthusiastic reviews in the pages of newspapers and magazines:
How often do we hear of a province asserting its existence and its activities in the arts through something coherent that points to the proper, systematic work of a cohesive organization dedicated to serving the arts? No, on the contrary, for a long time now we have grown accustomed to hearing that our province has become so moldy, so complacent in its stagnation that its inhabitants have ceased to feel any need for spiritual nourishment whatsoever, that art for them is nothing more than a hollow phrase, disconnected from their very existence. Unfortunately, all of this is true to some extent: our modern provincial life has not strayed far from the dull, dreary existence of Shchedrin’s province in the 1860s, with its petty concerns, base desires, and widespread, incorrigible stagnation in every corner.
Live there for a year or two, and you’ll be drawn imperceptibly into this quagmire, and you’ll see for yourself how irresistibly the process of atrophy will begin to take hold within you—the atrophy of your ability to appreciate beauty and your need for creativity.
That is why any artist with even a modicum of talent—gifted and confident in his abilities—flees our backwoods without looking back, complaining about the impossibility of working, the public’s indifference, the savage demands the locals place on art, and the feeling of loneliness.It’s one thing if you end up in a big city that’s on the usual route for traveling and other exhibitions, but what if fate has taken you—not even to a county town, but to some provincial city, like Kostroma, Yaroslavl, or Smolensk…? Is there anything there that might remind you that fine art exists, that there are people who devote their energies to it, and that a sense of beauty must be an integral part of any cultured human consciousness? After all, there is nothing there that would awaken an aesthetic sensibility, and it is therefore doomed to wither away. As for artistic and educational resources, there’s nothing to speak of!
And popular opinion attributes to the provinces a lack of refinement, an indifferent attitude toward art, and a complete misunderstanding of its goals and aspirations. I repeat once more: where does all this come from? Revitalize our public life, and then we will give you not only people who understand and appreciate art, but we will also pour new energy into this living endeavor. Do not come to our aid with academies, museum treasures, or antiquities—we know that is impossible. No, give us the lower-level drawing and decorative arts schools. Begin building the structure from the foundation up; cultivate taste among the masses, among artisans, among craftspeople, and among icon painters. We will grow accustomed to demanding elegance first and foremost in industrially produced goods, in the objects of our everyday surroundings, and only then will we learn to distinguish the ugly from the beautiful in simple forms and expressions…Kharkiv provides a brilliant example of the parallel development of an active civic life and an appreciation for the arts; the city recently organized a fairly extensive exhibition of paintings using only local artistic talent…
In total, over 2,000 people visited the exhibition—which featured about 150 different works by more than twenty Kharkiv artists—during its run from January 6 to February 2. In addition, 1,000 free tickets were distributed to students and the general public to promote art. Just a few weeks later, Kharkiv hosted the grand opening of an exhibition of paintings by a famous marine artist and student of Aivazovsky himself, for whom our city was his hometown and a place he loved dearly. But I’ll tell you more about that next time…
