The Economic Dimensions of Art in the Stalinist Era

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1/24

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The Economic Dimensions of Art in the Stalinist Era: Artists' Cooperatives in the Grip ofIdeology and the PlanAuthor(s): Galina Yankovskaya and Rebecca MitchellSource: Slavic Review, Vol. 65, No. 4 (Winter, 2006), pp. 769-791Published by: Association for Slavic, East European, and Eurasian StudiesStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/4148454Accessed: 14-08-2015 05:28 UTC

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2/24

The

Economic Dimensions of Art

in

the Stalinist

Era:

Artists'

Cooperatives

in

the

Grip

of

Ideology

and

the Plan

Galina Yankovskaya

"Oh,

this

eternal,

'accursed'

question:

What,

finally,

are

we

to do

with

these

artists? There are no customers Such is the

tragic path

of our

paint-

ing."1

At

approximately

the same

time that the

painter

Solomon Nikritin

wrote this

entry

in his

diary

(1937-1938),

the western observer Kurt Lon-

don,

troubled

by

the tone

surrounding

the discussion of

Nikritin's

works

and

by government

authorities' interference

in

art,

nevertheless noticed

the following achievement of Stalinist socialism: "Not a single creative per-

sonality

in the

Soviet

Union

suffers from a lack of financial means ...

they

do

not need to think

of

money

because their lives are

perfectly regulated

from

the economic

point

of

view."2

These

two

dramatically contradictory

opinions

demonstrate neither the

poorly

informed

view

of a

foreigner

nor

the

grievance

of an unsuccessful Soviet artist.

Rather,

they

delineate a

little-researched and

problematic

field of

inquiry-the

economics of So-

viet art.

Studying

the economic relations

within

the

institutional

system

of

Sta-

linist art can

help

us to better understand how the entire

system

func-

tioned.3

In

the model of

Soviet

culture

proposed by

Leonid Geller and

Antuan Boden, material relations are mentioned, but not

specifically

ex-

amined.4

Only

Vitalii

Manin,

Mariia

Zezina,

and

Andrew

Jenks

give

no-

ticeable attention

in

their research to the

everyday

economic realities of

art from the 1930s to the mid-1950s.5 But economic mechanisms affected

the

production,

distribution,

and

reception

of

art,

influencing

thematic

I

greatly appreciate

the

valuable comments and

suggestions

made

by

the

anonymous

re-

viewers,

the editorial board of Slavic

Review,

and,

especially,

Diane Koenker.

In

addition

I

wish

to thank the librarians and the

community

at the

Russian,

East

European,

and

Eurasian Center at the

University

of Illinois for the

friendly

and creative

atmosphere

that

aided

my

research

during my stay

there.

1. Rossiiskii gosudarstvennyi arkhivliteratury i iskusstva(RGALI),f. 2717, op. 1, d. 32,

11.177-78.

2.

Kurt

London,

The Seven SovietArts

(London, 1937),

363.

3. For an

explanation

of the institutional

approach,

see

J.

Guldberg,

"Artist

Well Or-

ganized:

The

Organizational

Structure of the Soviet Art Scene from the

Liquidation

of

Artistic

Organizations

(1932)

to the First

Congress

of Soviet Artists

(1957),"

Slavica

Oth-

iniensia 8

(1986):

3-23;

J.

Guldberg,

"Socialist Realism as Institutional Practice: Observa-

tions

on the

Interpretation

of Works of Art of the Stalin

Period,"

in

Hans

Guinther,

ed.,

The

Culture

of

the Stalin Period

(London, 1990),

149-77.

4. L. Geller and A.

Boden,

"Institutsional'nyi kompleks

sotsrealizma,"

in

Hans

Giunter

[Giinther]

and

Evgenii

Dobrenko, eds.,

Sotsrealisticheskiianon

(St.

Petersburg,

2000),

290-319.

5. M. R. Zezina, Sovetskaiakhudozhestvennaiantelligentsiiai vlast' v 1950-e-60-e gg.

(Moscow, 1999); V.

S.

Manin,

Iskusstvov rezervatsii:Khudozhestvennaia hizn'

Rossii,

1917-

1941

(Moscow, 1999);

AndrewJenks,

"From

Periphery

to Center: Palekh and

Indigeniza-

tion in the Russian

Heartland,"

Kritika:

Explorations

n Russian

and

Eurasian

History

3,

no. 3

Slavic Review

65,

no. 4

(Winter 2006)

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsphttp://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp


3/24

770

Slavic Review

and aesthetic

characteristics,

as

well

as the

scale of dissemination of a

par-

ticular work.

Principles

of

production,

of

planning

and

price-setting,

norms of authorial

rights-in

other

words,

economic

imperatives-

created an

exceptionally

conflict-ridden environment and had no less of

an

impact

on

artists than

patronage

connections

and

political

motives.

During

the

years

of

Stalinism,

a transformation of

the artistic market

occurred

according

to the laws of the

Plan-the laws of

socialist

distribu-

tion.

By

the "artistic

market,"

I

mean the

entire

complex

of activities

in-

volved

in

the

exchange

of

symbolic products.

The art

market involves

more

than

merely

buying

and

selling.

Following

Michael

Baxandall,

I

ar-

gue

that the

skills of

visual

perception

serve as

"currency"

n the relation-

ship

between the artist and

society,

as

well

as in

the articulation

of

ideas,

intellectual

support,

and

public recognition.

The art market

depends

on

the evaluation of artworks (by independent dealers, private buyers, the

press,

censors,

or the

artistic

bureaucracy)

and on

multifaceted

forms of

their

display

(in

independent public

exhibitions

or closed

private

show-

ings,

in

the

pages

of

specialized catalogs,

or

in

school

textbooks).6

In

a more

global

context,

the Stalinist

transformation

of art into

planned

artistic

production

was

part

of the

universal

process

of modern-

ization,

in

which creative activities became

professions

(providing

a basic

source

of

income)

and the

artist became an

independent figure,

free from

the

obligations

of craft

responsibilities.

Mass-produced

art

penetrated

all

spheres

of

life and became an

industry.

Finally,

a

mass audience

for art

ap-

peared,

mastering

new social

practices:

visiting

artistic

exhibitions,

lec-

tures, museum;

collecting

objects

of art;and so on.

A

potential

audience of

consumers also

appeared

in

the Soviet

artistic

market.

In

the

Stalinist variant this

process

was

hastened

by

the

policy

of

kul'turnost',

he

social

meaning

of which has

received notable attention

in

the

last decade.

In

the works

of

Vera

Dunham,

Sheila

Fitzpatrick,

Catriona

Kelly,

Vadim

Volkov,

and

other

authors,

the

change

in

the value

system

and

cultural

politics

that

began

in

1933-1934 has

been described

as an

element

of Soviet

identity

formation.7 This

was

a

program

of

populariza-

tion

of

behavioral,

corporeal,

and other

practices

among

social

groups

who

had the

opportunity

for social

advancement,

such as

Stakhanovites,

new Soviet managers, shockworkers, outstanding collective farm mem-

bers,

and

the

intelligentsia.

And,

in

this

context,

art

provided,

not

only

a

space

for the visualization of

ideas,

but also a marker of

belonging

to a so-

cially

successful

group.

(Summer

2002):

427-58;

AndrewJenks,

Russia in a Box:

Art and

Identity

n an

Age

of

Revo-

lution

(DeKalb, 2005).

6. M. Baksendoll

[Michael Baxandall],

Uzory

ntentsii:

Ob

storicheskom

olkovanii

kartin

(Moscow, 2003),

60-61

(translation

of Michael

Baxandall,

Patterns

of

Intention

[New

Haven,

1985]).

7. Vera

Dunham,

In

Stalin's Time:MiddleclassValues n SovietFiction

(Durham, 1990),

19-23;

Sheila

Fitzpatrick,

The Cultural Front:Power and Culture in

Revolutionary

Russia

(Ithaca, 1992); Catriona

Kelly

and VadimVolkov, "DirectedDesires: Kulturnost'and Con-

sumption,"

in

Catriona

Kelly

and David

Shepherd,

eds.,

Constructing

Russian Culture

n the

Age of

Revolution,

1881-1940

(Oxford,

1998),

312-13.



4/24

The Economic

Dimensions

of

Art in the Stalinist

Era

771

Painting, graphic

arts,

and

sculpture

were

transformed

into consumer

goods

accessible

to the

population.

Innovative

research

by

Elena

Osokina,

Jukka

Gronow,

and

Julie

Hessler

has

given

us an idea of

everyday

domes-

tic

practices,

the

peculiarities

of the consumer

goods

market and its

sym-

bolic

dimension

in the

years

of

Stalinism.8

The

organizations

that oversaw

art shared

many

of the

defining

features

of the Stalinist

economy

as a

whole,

including

minute and

detailed

planning,

a

complete

shortage

of

everything,

the need to

produce

works

from

nothing,

the existence

of

a "black

market,"

and a centralized

decision-making process

and

system

of distribution.

The

enlightening

mission

of

educating

a

"new"

person

through

the

power

of art

was

entrusted

to artistic

production

organized

"in

a socialist

manner."

At the

same

time,

art

fulfilled the

same imitative

functions

as other

objects

of Soviet

comfort and

luxury-it

established

an

aura surrounding the lifestyle of socially successful groups.

The cultural

dynamics

of

the

period

from the 1930s

to the

1950s

pre-

sent

historians with

the

problem

of

differentiating

between

situational

and

typological

processes-in

other

words,

distinguishing

between

"Stal-

inization"

and "sovietization."

It is not

easy

to make this

delineation,

as

these

processes

are intertwined

from both

developmental

and

conceptual

points

of view.

"Sovietization"

nvolves

a

long

historical

perspective

con-

nected

to the

acceptance

of Soviet

institutions,

practices,

and

values,

whereas

"Stalinization"

s a

short-term,

specific

development.

Such

a situ-

ational

quality

is notable

in

the

symbolism

and

style

of

the cult of

losif Sta-

lin,

the institutional

system,

the forms

of

control,

the

hierarchy

of

genres

in art, and much more. Meanwhile, the economic mechanisms of art de-

veloped

during

the

years

of Stalinism

turned out

to be more

amenable

to

sociopolitical

changes

and

thus endured

until the

end

of the 1980s.

Therefore

it

was

this

economic

relationship

that led to

the

question

of the

essence

of the

social

compromise

reached

by

Soviet

artists, authorities,

and

the state -a

compromise

lying

at

the heart

of the mass

loyalty

of artis-

tic

figures

in

the

years

of Stalinism.

This

compromise

created

elements

of

continuity

(institutional,

conceptual,

ethical,

and

aesthetic)

between

the

1930s and

1940s and

the artistic

life of the

post-Stalinist

era.

The

All-Russian Union

of Artists'

Cooperatives,

Vsekokhudozhnik,

was the first organizational embodiment of the compromise involving ide-

ology,

creativity,

and

money.

Created

in the

late

1920s

during

a

period

of

"institutional

improvization,"'

it was

not

only

the first

organization

to

unify

conflicting

groups

(several

years

before the idea

of a

single

union

of

artists was

voiced

in

1932),

but

also the

first

organization

to

promote

mass

8. E.

A.

Osokina,

"Predprinimatel'stvo

rynok

v

povsednevnoi

zhizni

pervykh

piatile-

tok:

Na

primere

rynka

potrebitel'skikh

tovarov,"

Sotsial'naia

storiia.

Ezhegodnik,

1998-1999

(Moscow,

1999);

E. A.

Osokina,

"Predprinimatel'stvo

rynok

v

period

'svobodnoi

torgovli':

1936-1941,"

Sotsial'naia storiia.

Ezhegodnik,

2000

(Moscow,

2000);

Jukka

Gronow,

Caviar

with

Champagne:

Common

Luxury

and

the Ideals

of

the Good

Life

in Stalin's

Russia

(Oxford,

2003);

Julie

Hessler,

A Social

History of

Soviet Trade: Trade

Policy,

Retail Practicesand

Con-

sumption,

1917-1953 (Princeton, 2004).

9. Sheila

Fitzpatrick,

"The

Emergence

of Glaviskusstvo:

lassWar

on the Cultural

Front,

Moscow, 1928-1929,"

SovietStudies

23,

no.

2

(October

1971):

253.



5/24

772

Slavic

Review

artistic

production.

The

economic

mechanisms of

art,

many

of

which

were

preserved

until

the

break-up

of the

Soviet

system,

were first

worked

out in

Vsekokhudozhnik.

For a

quarter

century

(from

1929

to

1953),

coopera-

tives were the main

producers

of standard socialist realist visual media:

street

sculptures,

designs

for

parks

of culture

and

rest,

the All-Union

Agri-

cultural

Exhibition,

visual

propaganda,

objects

of

daily

life,

and other

artistic

"assortments."For

various

reasons,

this

element of the

institutional

system

of

Soviet art

has

been

undeservedly

forgotten;

its

place

in

the

artis-

tic

market

disparaged.

In

this

article

I

will

examine the

structure,

orga-

nizing

principles,

and

economic

practices

of

Vsekokhudozhnik,

placing

these

within

the

everyday

realities of

the

period.

Second,

I

will

attempt

to

put

artists'

cooperatives

in

their

institutional

context.

Finally,

concentrat-

ing

on the

economic

aspects

of life in

the

artistic

professions,

I

will

try

to

determine the underlying economic reason behind several formally artis-

tic and

genre-thematic

peculiarities

of

socialist realism

intended

for "mass

consumption."

The

first

artists'

cooperatives

appeared

in

Russia

prior

to the revolu-

tion;

the most

famous of

these

was the

Partnership

for

Circulating

Art

Ex-

hibitions,

more

commonly

known as

Itinerants.'o

Cooperatives

also

ap-

peared

in

traditional folk

crafts.

After

the

revolution,

when the artistic

market

had

fundamentally

changed,

cooperatives

played

an

important

role in

the

years

of

the

New

Economic

Policy

(NEP).

They gave

themselves

the task of

reconstructing,

at least in

small

measure and

with modifica-

tions for the

new

socioeconomic

situation,

a

market for

works of art and

for artistic

production."

In these

years,

cooperatives

worked with

public

organizations,

Soviet

institutions,

and

private

individuals.

They attempted

to honor the

demands of

trade

unions

not to use

hired

workers or to

pur-

sue

excess

profits.

Exhibition

auctions,

private

production

facilities,

and

private

commissions

corresponded

to

the

mixture of

styles

and

the

orga-

nizational

variety

of

artistic

life

in

the

1920s.

But

assessments

of

artworks

according

to

ideological,

political,

and

productive

criteria had

become

common

by

this

time.

The idea of ne-

glecting

the

individualistic

character of

creativity,

with its

bohemian

lifestyle,

and

engaging

in

the

"workerization"

orabochivanie)

f

art

began

to be heard among artists.The same general logic can be reflected in the

new

professional

jargon:

"visual

arts

worker"

(izorabotnik),

"service

to

the

people"

(obsluzhivanie

naseleniia),

"visual

arts

brigade"

(izobrigada),

and

"production

art"

(proizvodstvennoe

isskustvo).

Clearly

more than

the

Euro-

pean

avant-garde

were

involved in

experiments

with

"industrializing"

he

creative

process.'2

Professional

artistic

activity

had

never

enjoyed

a

high

social status

in

Russia,

remaining

the lot of

serfs,

the

unprivileged

strata of

the

population,

and

foreigners,."

Some

changes

began

to

appear

in the

10. The Itinerants'

economic

interests

are discussed in S.

A.

Ekshtut,

"Imperatorskaia

akademiia

khudozhestv

i

'bunt

14-ti,'

"

Dialog

so

vremenem:

l'manakh

ntellektual'noi

storii

10

(2003):

164-84.

11.

Manin,

Iskusstvo

v

rezervatsii,

102-3.

12.

Igor

Golomshtok,

Totalitarnoeskusstvo

(Moscow,

1994).

13.

O.

Krivtsun,

"Khudozhnik v

istorii russkoi

kul'tury:

Evoliutsiia

statusa,"

Chelovek,

no.

1

(1995):

119-38;

no.

3

(1995):

105-20.



6/24

The

Economic

Dimensions

of

Art in the

Stalinist

Era

773

second half of the nineteenth

century,

but even

in

postreform

Russia

there

was

little demand

for

the

work

of artists

who

remained,

for

the most

part,

poorly

paid.14

Therefore,

the

ideas of social

guarantees

and

regular

fees

implemented

by

Soviet authorities in the 1920s were familiar and un-

derstandable

to

artists.

In

any

case,

artists became accustomed to a

single

tariff established

by

their trade

union.'5

Moreover,

ideas like

universal

employment,

fair

(understood

as

equal)

distribution

of

commissions,

and

set fees

were

quite

popular

in

artistic circles.

By accepting

the

social cate-

gory

of

proletariat,

artists were

able to

position

themselves

as

fully

fledged

builders

of the

new

proletarian

state and

to declare their

right

to

various

social

guarantees,

which

were

of

great importance

in

the conditions of the

Soviet

distribution

system.

Nevertheless,

the

egalitarian

artistic

utopia

remained an

unrealized

dream in the years of NEP. Social stratification and unemployment per-

sisted.

It

was difficult to receive

an

interesting

commission,

especially

in

the

provinces.

Commissions from soviets

and from

party

and state

organi-

zations

put

a

meager

amount of food

on the

table,

but

accommodating

such customers'

propagandistic

demands

negatively

affected the life and

morale of the

artistic

community,

a fact

that

was

already

clear

by

the

mid-

1920s.

On

18January

1925,

Nikolai

Punin,

a brilliant art historian and for-

mer enthusiast

of

revolutionary

iconoclastic

actions,

made

a

characteris-

tic

entry

in his

diary

on the influence of

ideological

commissions

on the

routinization

of

occupational cynicism:

"The most

profitable

is

to mold a

bust of Vladimir Lenin or to draw

him in his coffin.

But here

you

also need

connections and

contacts."16

Other sources reveal such curious incidents

as

sculptors bidding

for the death mask

of

Lenin,

and artists

lining up

for

models

who

resembled the "leader of the world

proletariat.""

This mar-

ket attitude

towards

ideology

increased

in the

years

of Stalinism

and

be-

came a

typical aspect

of the

professional

strategy

of

many

artistic

figures.

Considered members of the "free

professions,"

artists did not have

guaranteed

social

benefits,

and

questions

regarding

their

copyright

re-

mained

unsettled.

If

we

add to this the

shortage

of

quality

materials for

creative work

(brushes,

paint,

canvas,

and

so

on)

and the

shortage

of stu-

dios,

it becomes

apparent

that the

situation was

hardly

stable or

orderly

for artists, particularly as increased ideological interference and the re-

moval

of

private

craftsmen exacerbated

the

problems

of

the artistic mar-

ket. For their

part,

the authorities also

felt burdened

by

the

ideological

and

financial

indeterminacy

in

the realm

of

visual

art.

Together

with and

equal

to

political

factors,

economic factors-the

catastrophic discrepancy

between

supply

and demand

in

the cultural

sphere

after

private

craftsmen were removed

from

the

artistic market-

14.

V.

R.

Leikina-Svirskaia,

Russkaia

intelligentsiia

v 1900-1917

godakh

(Moscow,

1981),

147-77.

15. It was

specifically

n these conditionsthat

Ostap

Bender

and

Kisa

Vorob'ianinov,

the heroes of

the

cult novel of

the

Soviet

intelligentsia

The Twelve

Chairs,

found work as

artists.

16. N.

Punin,

Mir svetel iubov'iu.

Dnevniki,

Pis'ma

(Moscow, 2000),

232.

17.

G. V

Andreevskii,

Povsednevnaia

hizn'

Moskvy

v

stalinskuiu

epokhu:

1920-1930-e

gg.

(Moscow,

2003),

42-44.



7/24

774

Slavic

Review

played

a

crucial role

in

the formation in

1928

of

a new

institution,

Glaviskusstvo. The

policy

of

involving

the creative

intelligentsia

in the

cul-

tural

revolution

and

creating

art for the masses had

no financial

backing.

The idea of

transforming

a

person

and the lived environment

by

means of

art

impressed

artists of both the older and the

younger generations,

but

the

unanswered

question

remained: with

what

money?

The number

of in-

dividuals

engaged

in

artistic

occupations grew constantly

in the

1920s,

to-

gether

with

the

growth

of

unemployment,

because consumer demand was

not

in

a

position

to

absorb

such

a

rapidly growing supply.

As the head

of

Glaviskusstvo,

A.

Sviderskii,

noted,

the

new

potential

consumer and cus-

tomer

(worker

or

peasant)

"somewhat

coldly

and

suspiciously regarded

the

chamber

[kamernoe]

rt that our

artists

throw

on the nonexistent 'mar-

ket' in

excessive abundance

every year."

18

Because of

this,

authorities con-

sidered their most important task to be pursuing new routes for financing

and

marketing

artistic

products.

The

regime

took

measures to

resolve this critical situation.

In

1927,

in-

termediary

bureaus for

hiring

artistic

workers

appeared,

a

law on the

prin-

ciples

of

copyright

was

passed

in

1928,

and on 30 March

1930,

the

gov-

ernment issued a

resolution,

"On measures for

creating

favorable

working

conditions for artists."

In

actuality

this resolution

heralded

the

post-NEP

policy

of state

financing

of art. The

document states that the union re-

publics'

budgets

must

assign

funds

of not less

than

200,000

rubles annu-

ally

for

acquiring

works

by

Soviet artists.

Budgets

of

regional departments

of

education

(Narkompros),

social

insurance

funds,

and trade unions

planned

similar amounts to be used for these

purposes.'9

These amounts

cannot be

called

significant,

but

what is

important

is the

idea

itself.

In

fact,

this

policy

of

budgetary

financing

of art

became the basis for a

strategic

al-

liance between

the

Stalinist

leadership

and the

artistic

community.

The

scope

of state

purchases

increased over time

(not

considering

other forms

of direct

or

hidden

financing).

Thus

in

the third

Five-Year

Plan

(inter-

rupted by

the

war),

almost 11.5 million

rubles

were

allocated to

purchase

works

by

Soviet

artists.2"

A

state allowance also meant

official

support

for the

idea

of

trans-

forming

life

by

means of

art,

which was

popular among

artists. Social

claims turned out to be no less seductive an attraction than commissions

guaranteed

by

the state. As for

Soviet

authorities,

they

perceived

the

world

of art as

both

an end and

a means.

Unquestionably,

their

goal

was to

"mold" a

new

Soviet

type

of

artist,

a

new artistic

environment,

and a

new

audience. At the

same

time,

art

was

considered

in

exceptionally

functional

terms-as a

means

of

politically

mobilizing

the

population, inculcating

good

taste,

and

finally,

earning money.

The

authorities

preferred

to

deal

not with

separate

individuals or

groups

but with a more or less

uniform

18.

Quoted

in I.

Khvoinik,

"Izobrazitelnye

iskusstva:

Itogi

vsesoiuznoi konferentsii

khudozhnikov,"

Iskusstvo

no. 3-4

(1929):

166.

19.

"O

merakh k sozdaniiu

blagopriiatnikh

uslovii zhizni khudozhnikov," Sobranie a-

konov

rasporiazhenii ravitel'stva

SSSR,

no.

21

(1930):

397.

20.

RGALI,

f.

962,

op.

2,

d.

73,

1. 33.



8/24

The

Economic

Dimensions

of

Art in

the Stalinist

Era

775

structure that was much

more

amenable to

control. Artists'

cooperatives

could reconcile the

artists'

economic interests

and artistic ambitions with

the

regime's

intention of

transforming

art into a social

factory.

Vsekokhudozhnik was established in this environment. On the one

hand,

cooperatives

were

in

accord with the

general

political

line of

ex-

cluding private enterprise

from all

spheres

of life. On

the other

hand,

the

authorities and

artists

considered

cooperatives

an economic

mechanism

that

would

merge

the

profitability

of art

with the

principles

of

state

financ-

ing. Finally,

cooperatives

seemed an

alternative

to

independent

artistic

as-

sociations

and

to

splinter

groups

based on

particular styles.

The

Cooperative

of

Artists

was founded

in

1929

by

fifty-seven

private

and

legal

entities and

thirty-nine

cooperatives

from

Moscow

and Lenin-

grad.

In

the course

of

two

years,

this

initiative undertaken

by

artists

in

the

capital cities was transformed into a national organization. The same fi-

nancial

laws

and

regulations

applied

to all

cooperatives.

The

basic

financ-

ing

was

a

combination of

15,000

rubles of

loans,

voluntary

dues,

and taxes

allocated from works

sold and from

property

redistribution.

Vsekokhu-

dozhnik received the

production

facilities and

studios of both

private

in-

dividuals

and various

organizations.

In

time it

acquired

an

artistic

pro-

duction

center

and

publishers

that issued

informational

bulletins.21

This

organization

changed

its full

name

several

times,

but

it retained the

acro-

nym

Vsekokhudozhnik

(from

Vserossiiskoe

kooperativnoe

tovarishch-

estvo "Khudozhnik"

[All-Russian

Union of

Artists'

Cooperatives,

"Art-

ist"]),

which functioned

as a

type

of

brand name.

Cooperatives

were

given

the task of

providing

for the

political

social-

ization

of artists

(the

struggle

with

"ideological

neutrality").

22They

had to

create the

appropriate

conditions

in

which artists

could unite as

voluntary

and

motivated

participants

in

the

building

of

socialism.

Artists were will-

ing

to

accept

this

policy

if

normal

conditions for

creativity

were

estab-

lished,

and,

especially,

if

unemployment

were reduced. For

this

reason,

the

cooperatives'

charter

was based on

personal

productive

capacities.

Economic

independence,

rather than

particular

styles

or

strategies

for ex-

hibitions,

became the

key

idea

unifying

artists

in

cooperatives.23

The eco-

nomic

scheme was

notably simple:

"high"

art

was

supported

at

the

ex-

pense of the art of "massconsumption." In other words, the unprofitable

work of

those

who

did

paintings

on an

easel

was

paid

for

with

money

earned from

the sale of

shawls,

ceramics,

or

toys.24

Cooperatives

also

pro-

duced

frames, linen,

brushes,

paint,

and

other

artistic

implements.

In

Vsekokhudozhnik's

system,

the

relationship

between

individual

and

"mass"

work

was

extremely

unequal.

In

1940

only

10

percent

of the

coop-

21.

For a list of the

cooperatives

and

property

belonging

to

Vsekokhudozhnik

n

1953,

see

RGALI,

f.

2907,

op.

1,

d.

85,

11.4-6.

22.

Iu.

Slavinskii,

"K

pervomu

s"ezdu

Vserossiiskogo

kooperativnogo

soiuza khudozh-

nikov,"

Biulleten'

vserossiiskogo

ooperativnogooiuza

"Vsekokhudozhnik"

June

1932):

5.

23.

In

the Stalinist

era,

Vsekokhudozhnik became

the first artistic

organization

pos-

sessing

economic

independence

(in

selecting

production

and exhibition

halls,

in

gaining

accessto

foreign currency,

tc.)

24.

V

I.

Kostin,

"Ktotam

shagaet pravoi?"

Panorama

skusstv

9

(1986):

133.



9/24

776

SlavicReview

erative's income

came

from

selling

original

artistic

work;

in 1950

it was

even less-8

percent.25

Vsekokhudozhnik

incorporated

masters

of traditional

crafts;

artists at

factories

producing

everyday

commodities, toys, and cloth; and those who

produced designs

for

political

demonstrations.

Some

cooperatives

were

created for

representatives

of

"high"

art-painters,

graphic

artists,

and

sculptors.

The

principles

of

organization

were

similar

everywhere-

government-controlled

prices,

planned

production,

and

centrally

distrib-

uted

supply.

For

this

reason,

such varied

artists

as,

for

example,

a

sculptor

from the Gzhel'

factory,

an academic

painter,

and a

designer

of

slogans

in

a small

town

all met with

similar

economic

problems.

Over

time,

all

artists'

cooperatives

turned

into standard

Soviet

enterprises

with

production

plans,

a Stakhanovite

movement,

and socialist

competition.

Nevertheless,

each of these forms of artisticactivityhad its own particularities, which de-

serve

independent

research.

AndrewJenks

has

scrupulously

analyzed

how

traditional Palekh

artists

adapted

to the

Stalinist

artistic

market

as well

as

how former icon

painters

became involved

in

inventing

Soviet cultural

traditions.

In his

work,

the artists'

everyday

economic

life and the

eco-

nomic motives

involved

in their

creative

strategies

occupy

a

special place,

revealing

several

common

tendencies

in

the

production

and distribution

of

artistic

objects.

I

focus

on

representatives

of the

classical artistic

profes-

sions-painters,

graphic

artists,

and

sculptors.

How

could these

artists,

who

were

inclined

toward

a

more

individualistic,

bohemian

lifestyle,

be at-

tracted

to

cooperatives

and

planned

production?

Cooperatives

offered artists advance contracts (kontraktatziia) nd the-

matic

plans

for their creative

work.26

The artist would

sign

a contract with

an

enterprise,

institution,

or the

cooperative

itself and would then

deliver

the

work,

which was

based

on an

assigned

theme,

within

a

predefined pe-

riod of time.

The work was

paid

for in

advance,

but

if

the conditions

of the

contract

were

broken,

the

pre-payment

had to be

returned.

If

Vsekokhu-

dozhnik was itself

the

customer,

the

work

entered

into the

holdings

of the

cooperative

and

was then

sold

to individuals

or to

other

organizations.

The

asymmetry

between

the

responsibilities

of each

side

in

the contrac-

tual

system

of the

time is

striking.

The artist

might

not

finish

the work

on

time or might considerably diverge from the agreed-upon theme. The

themes

ranged

from the collective

farm movement

to

physical

culture

days

to

flowers, fruits,

and

images

of nature.27

Generally

in the

years

of

Stalinism,

nature

scenes and

still

lifes

provided

nonconformist artists with

a

protective

niche

in

which

it was

possible

to evade

commissions for ideo-

logical

and socialist

themes,

while

at

the same time

receiving

modest,

but

guaranteed

fees.28

As

for

customers,

they

usually bought

what

they

had

commissioned

even

when

the works did

not at

all

correspond

to their

expectations.

25.

Jack

Chen,

Soviet

Art and Artists

(London,

1944),

46;

RGALI,

.

2907,

op.

1,

d.

7,1.5.

26.

For a

description

of the

contracting process,

see

London,

SevenSoviet

Arts,

49-53.

27.

Tvorchestvo,

o.

7

(1936):

15.

28.

Fora discussion

of the

escapism

of Soviet

andscapepainters,

ee

Vern

Grosvenor

Swanson,

Soviet

mpressionism

Woodbridge,

Suffolk,

2001).



10/24

The

EconomicDimensions

of

Art in the Stalinist

Era

777

But a contract was seldom

easy

to

receive.

From 1931

to

1935,

only

397

people

received

contracts,

which

is incommensurate with

the number of

cooperative

artists.

Eight

out of

ten

painters

in

Moscow

and

twenty-four

out of

fifty

in the

provinces

did not

participate

in this

system.29

Since

a

contract offered

a

prepayment

in

cash,

at times

it

was

specifically

con-

tracts with Vsekokhudozhnik

that enabled artists to

survive-even

those

caught diverging

from the

official

aesthetic.

For

example,

in

the

years

of

the Great Terror the artist Artur

Fonvizin-accused of

formalism

and

thus

deprived

of

customers-was

able to survive thanks

exclusively

to

contracts.30

Vsekokhudozhnik was

supposed

to

organize

a

system

of

exhibitions-

thematic,

traveling,

and

permanent.

The

purpose

of

thematic exhibitions

was

to

demonstrate

the artists'

loyalty

to the

needs

of

the state and the

"So-

viet public."3 For this reason the subject of an exhibition often originated

in

the artistic division

of

the Commissariat

of

Education

(Narkompros).

Traveling

exhibitions,

often

comprised

of

reproductions,

continued the

prerevolutionary

tradition of the creative

intelligentsia's

"going

to the

people"

and

were

intended for

display

in

remote

provinces,

factories,

and

collective farms.

Finally,

the

purpose

of

Vsekokhudozhnik's

permanent

exhibitions

was

to

sell works

of art. The

organizers

of the

cooperative

be-

lieved that

foreign

tourists would become

acquainted

with

and

buy

new

Soviet art

at these

exhibitions.32

Acquiring

foreign

currency through

the

sale

of

art was

generally

a

very popular

idea

in

the late

1920s

and

early

1930s,

be it the scandalous

selling

of items

from the

Hermitage

collec-

tions, the

production

of souvenirs for

export

by

craftsmen, or the

selling

of

Soviet

art to

foreign

tourists.33

This

dualism of

political

and economic

interests,

the

very

essence

of

Vsekokhudozhnik,

was

apparent

in

its exhi-

bition

strategy:

offering

the

public

ideologically

sound

art,

but

thereby

solving problems

of

an

exclusively

economic

nature.

In

addition to

cooperatives

and state

agencies,

newly

constructed

in-

dustrial

enterprises

became

some of

Vsekokhudozhnik's

main customers.

Under the

conditions of forced

industrialization,

artists were

sent to

"serve

construction"

by

capturing

the

changing appearance

of

the

coun-

try

in

artistic

form

and

designing

workers

clubs,

houses of

culture,

and

parks. This achieved two goals: artists were given work, and the authori-

ties were

provided

with

a visual means

of

influencing

the

Soviet

people.

Despite

the

prevalence

of

impersonal

commissions

from

enterprises

and

organizations,

the

regime

counted

on the

appearance

of

new,

indi-

vidual

customers.

The

policy

of

promoting

art

among

the masses

and the

policy

of mass artistic

production

joined

with

the

policy

of

kul'turnost',

which,

like

Vsekokhudozhnik,

bore the dual

stamp

of

high

ideals and

the

material interests of

the

consumers.

29.

Manin,

Iskusstvov

rezervatsii,

172.

30.

Sovetskoe

skusstvo,

17

April

1937.

31. Biulleten'

vserossiiskogoooperativnogo

ovarishchestva"Khudozhnik"

April 1931):

43.

32.

Ibid.,

15.

33.

AndrewJenks

analyzes

Palekh's

foreign currency operations.

Additional research

will

be

required

o

determinewhetherthe idea

of

exporting

the works

of

Soviet

artistswas

successful.



11/24

778

Slavic Review

Newly

promoted

workers

(vydvizhentsy),

new

urban

dwellers,

collec-

tive farm

workers,

and

Stakhanovites

had to

become

consumers

of works

of

art,

to

abandon

the

conventional

metaphorical

language

of

folklore,

icons, and lubki for the

language

of caricatures, documentary photo-

graphs,

and

contemporary

art. For an

inexperienced

audience

that was

only

beginning

to

become familiar with

new

practices,

fine

art

was

of

in-

terest for its

ability

to

illustrate

information,

with

the

depiction

being

taken

not

symbolically,

but

literally.

The

expectations

this

naive audience

had

of a

work

of art

can be

formulated

in the

following

way:

"What

con-

cretely

is

represented

here and

why?"

Characteristic

of this

attitude

is a letter

written

in

the

name

of a

woman

collective

farm

shockworker,

entitled

"To live

prosperously

is

to

live

in

a cultured

way,"

published

in the

newspaper,

Krest'ianskaiia

azeta.34

We do not know who actuallywrote this letter, but it demonstrates the lan-

guage

the author

used to

express

the ascribed

demands

of their

social

class.

Besides

symbols

of cultured

life

like bentwood

chairs,

tablecloths,

curtains,

and

dishes,

this article

promotes

ideas

about

painting

"for the

people."

"Good"

pictures,

in the letter-writer's

opinion,

should

be

painted

in

oil,

mounted

in

a

good

frame,

and

depict

travel and

pictures

of

every-

day

life

in different

countries

and

among

different

peoples,

factories,

plants,

and

electrical

stations.

Moreover,

they

should

correspond

to the

chief

requirement

"that there

be an

inscription

on the

picture

explaining

what

such

a

factory

produces,

how

much

it

produces,

what

kind

of ma-

chines

it

utilizes,

and

how

this

factory helps

to

improve

life."

Many

similar

examples

of

expecting

information from a work of art can be found in

comment

books

from

traveling

exhibitions.

In these

books,

audiences

gave

advice

to artists

in the

imperative,

telling

them what

to

call a

picture

or how

this or that

object

should be

rendered

more

accurately.35

The

illustrative,

descriptive,

and narrative

style

of Soviet art

that was

gradually

established

during

the

1930s under

the

amorphous

term

social-

ist realismwas

in accord with

the

policy

of

drawing

the

new

mass

consumer

into the

artistic

market.36

Christine

Lindey,

Nataliia

Kozlova,

Igor'

34.

Republished

in Sovetskoe

skusstvo,

14 October 1933.

35.

RGALI,f. 2458, op. 2,

d.

3791,

1.

5;

d.

442,

1.

29.

36. The

list of

publications

dealing

with

socialist realism

is extensive.

The

following

works

and exhibition

catalogs

have

elicited

great

interest

among

the

professional

audience

and

public.

Vladimir

Papernyi,

Kultura

"Dva"

(Ann

Arbor, Mich.,

1984);

Hans

Gfinther,

ed.,

The

Culture

of

the

Stalin Period

(New

York,

1990);

Matthew Cullerne

Bown, ed.,

SovietSo-

cialist Realist

Painting

(Oxford,

1992);

Miranda

Banks, ed.,

TheAesthetic

Arsenal:Socialist

Re-

alism

underStalin

(New

York,

1993);

Matthew

Cullerne Bown

and Brandon

Taylor,

eds.,

Art

of

the Soviets:

Painting,

Sculpture,

and Architecture

n a

One-Party

State,

1917-1992

(Manches-

ter,

Eng.,

1993);

Thomas

Lahusen

and

Evgeny

Dobrenko,

eds.,

Socialist

Realism without

Shores

Durham,

1997);

Susan

Reid,

"Destalinization

and Remodernization

of Soviet

Art:

The Search

for a

Contemporary

Realism,

1953-1963"

(PhD

diss.,

University

of

Pennsylva-

nia,

1996);

Matthew

Cullerne

Bown,

Socialist

Realist

Painting

(New

Haven,

1998)

;Jan Plam-

per,

"The Stalin

Cult in the

Visual

Arts,

1929-1953"

(PhD

diss.,

University

of

California,

Berkeley, 2001); Boris Groysand Max Hollein, eds., TraumfabrikKommunismus: ie Visuelle

Kultur der Stalinzeit

Dream

Factory

Communism:

The Visual

Culture

of

the Stalin Era

(Frank-

furt am

Main,

2003);

E.

V.

Nadtochii,

"Drug,

tovarishch

i Bart: Neskol'ko

predvaritel'nykh

zamechanii

k

voprosu

o meste

sotsialisticheskogo

ealizma

v iskusstve

XX

veka,"

Daugava,



12/24

TheEconomic

Dimensions

of

Art

in

the Stalinist

Era

779

Smirnov,

and

other scholars

argue

that socialist realism

is

impossible

to

interpret

without

knowing

the character

of

the intended

audience,

a

claim that seems to

me both

convincing

and correct.

For the

unsophisti-

cated new

spectator,

the illusions of Soviet formal

display

art seemed to

be

refined and urbane.37

The

cooperative

artist

had to cater to such an

audience.

In

addition to

providing

a

symbol

of

"being

cultured,"

mass artistic

production performed

an imitative

function,

about which Gronow has

written

in

examining

the

phenomenon

of Soviet

"luxury."38Painting,

graphic

arts,

and

sculpture

are meant to

be

consumed

through display,

and familiarization with

art

through

visiting

exhibitions

or

by collecting

art albums or

framed

pictures

served as a distinctive social

filter.

The

pol-

icy

of

promoting

art

for the masses

actually

implied importing

into the

sphere of workers and peasants the kind of everyday practices that had

been

typical

for

the

privileged

strata

of

prerevolutionary society:

the

gen-

try, entrepreneurial patrons

of

art,

and

aristocrats.

This,

in

turn,

would

lead

to the

symbolic

realization of the

revolutionary

slogan,

"Those that

were

nothing

shall become

everything."

Nevertheless,

transforming

art into a consumer item accessible to the

population

was

a

challenging

undertaking.

First of

all,

the

number

of

artistic

specialists

did not

correspond

to

the scale

of the

task

at

hand.

Ac-

cording

to

incomplete

data

from

the

Imperial

Chamber

of Art in Nazi

Germany,

whose cultural

policies

are often

compared

to those of Stalinist

Russia,

in

1936 there

were

15,000

architects,

14,300

painters,

and

2,900

sculptors-in

all, with

graphic

artists and decorators,

approximately

42,000

"soldiers

of national

art.""39

n the United

States,

a

country

whose

territory

and

population

was

comparable

to the

USSR,

there were

ap-

proximately

62,000

artists and art teachers

with

professional

training

in

1940.40

In contrast,

according

to

the most

optimistic

estimates of the cen-

sus

of

1939,

about

24,000

people

earned

a

living

as artists

in the

Soviet

Union.41

Another serious

problem

was the

shortage

of

artistic

supplies.

As in

other

segments

of

the

Soviet consumer

market,

production

of these ma-

terials had

to

begin

anew.

In

the

mid-1930s,

the

problem

of

oil

paints

pro-

duced the greatest public outcry. Traditionally Russia had imported qual-

ity paint

from abroad. In

the

years

of

industrialization,

there was not

enough money

for such

purposes,

so Vsekokhudozhnik

was

instructed to

no.

8

(1989):

114-20;

Giunter

and

Dobrenko, eds.,

Sotsrealisticheskii

anon;

Ekaterina

De-

got',

ed.,

Sovetskii dealism:

Zhivopis'

kino 1925-1939

(Liege,

2005).

37. Christine

Lindey,

Art

in the Cold

War:From

Vladivostok

o

Kalamazoo,

1945-1962

(London, 1990),

62.

38.

Gronow,

Caviar with

Champagne,

3.

39.

Iu.

Markin,

"Iskusstvo

tret'ego

reikha,"

Dekorativnoe skusstvo

SSSR,

no. 3

(1989):

35.

40.

Occupation

of

persons

in the

experience

labor force and of

employed persons.

See www2.census.gov/prod2/statcomp/documents/1950-03.pdf, no. 223 (last accessed

6

September

2006).

41.

Vsesoiuznaia

erepis'

naseleniia 1939.

Osnovnye

togi.

Russia

(St.

Petersburg,

1999),

177-79.



13/24

780

Slavic

Review

produce

its

own.

During

a

heated discussion in

1935,

it

became

obvious

that the

distribution

mechanism

was

collapsing.

Factories

producing

artis-

tic

oil

paints

could not

release them

directly

to the

market but

had to sell

them

through

intermediaries like

ordinary

dry goods.

As a result, there

was

a

shortage

of oil

paint

in

Moscow,

while

in

the

provinces

artists' fine

art-quality

white

paint

was used for

window frames.42

Moreover,

the

paints

were

of

abominable

quality.43

In

1935,

all artistic

organizations

began

preparing

for a

planned

the-

matic

exhibition

on

a

genuinely

all-Union scale.

Entitled the

"Industry

of

Socialism,"

this

was intended to

be the first

public

display

of

socialist real-

ism.44

The

deficit

of

high-quality

artistic materials

disrupted

the schedule

for

this

widely

advertised

event.

The

problem

was not

only

that

artists

could not

independently

obtain

the

required

materials

and had

to collect

them through Vsekokhudozhnik but that works of art created with these

new materials

quickly

lost

their

visual

quality.

The

storerooms

of

the

Tret'iakov

Gallery

became the

repository

of

piles

of

paintings

by

Soviet

artists that had

darkened,

cracked,

and

lost their

original

appearance.45

The

discussion about

artistic

materials

highlighted

the

ineffective-

ness of

the new

planned-distribution

model of

economic

relations in art

and

coincided

chronologically

with the

beginning

of

radical

reforms

in

the

entire

institutional

system

of the

visual arts. At

first

the

formation of

artists'

cooperatives

proceeded

with

difficulty,

experiencing,

in

the words

of one

eyewitness,

the

"sharp

kick" of

harsh criticism.46

After

literary-

artistic

organizations

were

dissolved

in

1932, however,

Vsekokhudozhnik

became one of the

primary

players

in a

complex game

of maneuvers be-

tween artists and

Soviet

power.

Since the

cooperatives

could,

with

the

help

of their economic

power,

consolidate all

artistic

organizations

and inter-

est

groups, they

bore

the

responsibility

for

establishing

horizontal ties

between

the

provinces

and the center. The

first

regional

sections

of

Vse-

kokhudozhnik

appeared

in

Rostov-on-Don,

Nizhnii

Novgorod,

Samara,

and

Sverdlovsk. With

time,

cooperative organizations

typically bearing

the

name

Khudozhnik

(artist)

emerged

in

almost

all oblast

capitals,

au-

tonomous

republics,

and

large

cities.

When Vsekokhudozhnik

was

liqui-

dated in

1953,

its structure

included

sixty-seven

societies from

Leningrad

to

Khabarovsk.47

The

events

of

1936-1938

were

a

watershed

moment that

divided

the

history

of

Vsekokhudozhnik

into "before" and "after." In

1936,

a

new

player appeared

in

the realm of

organizational

and

censorship

control-

the All-Union

Committee on Artistic

Affairs of the

Government

of the

USSR

(1936-1953)-that

quickly

became dominant and

concentrated

42.

Sovetskoe

skusstvo,

23June

1935.

43.

Sovetskoe

skusstvo,

23

and

29

October 1935.

44.

Susan E.

Reid,

"Socialist Realism

in

the Stalinist Terror:

The

Industry

of Socialism

Art

Exhibition,

1935-1941," Russian Review

60,

no.

2

(April

2001):

153-84.

45. Sovetskoeskusstvo,17 December 1935.

46. N.

Semashko,

"Obschestvennost' na

izofronte,"

Biulleten'

vserossiiskogooopera-

tivnogo

soiuza khudozhnikov

"Vsekokhudozhnik"

June

1932):

11.

47.

RGALI,

f.

2907,

op.

1,

d.

85,

11.4-6.



14/24

The

EconomicDimensions

of

Art in the

StalinistEra

781

control

in the

field

of art.

The committee included the Main Adminis-

tration for Visual Arts

Institutions and

the

Main Administration for Su-

pervision

of Performances

and

Repertoires-Glavrepertkom

(1923-1952),

which directed

censorship

over museums, art

galleries,

exhibitions, and

all

artistic activities.

This

structure

of administrative

authority

was

strictly

centralized,

and

it turned the

institutional world

of

art

into a

bureaucratic

machine,

particularly

since

no

powerful

corporatist

organization

existed

to

provide

a

counterweight.

Although

the decision

to create

a

Union

of

Soviet

Artists was an-

nounced

as

early

as

1932,

the

process

went

very

slowly,

and

initially

there

was

no

particular

insistence

that artists

join

the union. Neither was

there

any

regulation

of the situation

in

the

provinces.

In

practice,

the

role

of

the

union

center

was

performed

by

the

Moscow Union

of

Artists,

while local

cooperatives worked in parallel. In the mid-1930s, the idea circulated of

transforming

the

cooperatives

themselves

into

the

basic

organizational

element.

It was

suggested

that their own economic

base would allow

them

to unite their isolated artistic

forces.

Events

developed

according

to

a different

scenario,

however.

First,

Vsekokhudozhnik's excessive

self-sufficiency

and financial

independence

did not

correspond

to the

new

vision

of

the Committee

on Artistic

Affairs,

which aimed for

regimentation

and

uniformity

in

culture.

Second,

the

founders

of the

cooperatives

were involved

in

the 1936

-1938

political

tri-

als.

Iuvenalii

Mitrofanovich

Slavinskii,

the

chairman

of

Vsekokhudozhnik,

was a friend of the trade

union leader Mikhail

Tomskii. After Tomskii's

suicide, Slavinskiiwas left without a defender, which affected both his

per-

sonal fate

and

the entire

organization

in

the most

dramatic

way.

In

Febru-

ary

1936

enemies

of

the

people

began

to be unmasked

in the Moscow

and

Leningrad

Unions

of Artists

as well

as in

central

and

provincial coopera-

tives.48

The

newspaper

Sovetskoe

skusstvo

reported

the

convictions

of

ene-

mies of

the

people

in

Azov-Black

Sea,

Udmurt,

and

Taganrog

branches.

The

basic

accusations leveled

against

Vsekokhudozhnik

were economic:

wasting

materials,

problems

with

sales,

and clannishness

(klanovost')

n

the

distribution

of

commissions.

Platon

Kerzhentsev,

the chairman of

the

Committee

on Artistic Af-

fairs, played an active personal role in the case against Vsekokhudozhnik,

singling

out for criticism the

cooperative's policy

of

contracting,

particu-

larly

the

artists' failure to

repay

advances and

the

increasing

value of con-

tracts.49

Slavinskii was blamed for the fact that

provincial

cooperatives

had

no

studios,

working capital,

or financial

accountability.

He

was also

blamed

for

artists who

engaged

in

freelance work

on

the

side,

"knocking

off"

large

portraits

of

party

leaders

in

just

two or three

days.50

Slavinskii,

together

with other members of the

board,

was arrested and soon exe-

cuted.

As for

Vsekokhudozhnik,

it was

increasingly

referred to as a "false

48. V S. Manin, "Istoriia z istorii," Tvorchestvo,o. 7 (1989): 12-14.

49.

See

Sovetskoe

skusstvo,

29

March and

23

September

1937,

and

Tvorchestvo,

o.

7

(1936):

6-19.

50.

Sovetskoe

skusstvo,

March,

5

August,

and

11

August

1937.



15/24

782

SlavicReview

cooperative" (lzhekooperativ)

hat

used

hired

labor and as a

private

enter-

prise, charges

that

required

a

criminal

investigation

according

to the

gov-

ernment

decree

of

28

December

1928.51

The

underlying

cause for the

persecution

of Vsekokhudozhnik re-

volved

around

the

question

of

whether it would be a

relatively indepen-

dent

organization,

or

whether

it

should be turned into a

state institution.

In

the

end,

the

activities

of

Vsekokhudozhnik's

enterprises

and branches

were

subjected

to detailed

regulation

and minute

planning.

There is

no

question

that

the

purge

of Vsekokhudoznik

was

pursued

less to address

the

tactical

problem

of

shaking

up

the

leading

cadres of

one

of

the

artis-

tic

organizations,

and more

to

achieve

the

strategic

goal

of

reducing

its

level

of

self-reliance and

independence.52

In

1936,

two

phantoms appeared

in

Soviet art criticism

in

the area

of

artisticreception-"formalism" and "naturalism"-terms that would pro-

vide the criteria

for

assessing

the

"Sovietness"

in art

until

the 1960s.

Henceforth,

the

public

evaluation of a work of art was

determined

by

its

accessibility

to

an uncultivated audience

who

expected

art to illustrate

real

life.53

The

crusade

against

formalism

began

in

1933,

at

the

same

time

as the

policy

of

kul'turnost'

appeared,

but

only

after the

campaign

of

1936

did this

theoretically

imprecise

term

begin

to

be

used

to divide

groups

and

settle

personal

accounts.54

The

reconstruction

of the

institutional

system

did not

end with

the at-

tack on Vsekokhudozhnik.

In

1938 the

Committee

on

Artistic Affairs was

established under

the

government

of

the

Russian Federation. On

the

one

hand, this was a

sign

of the

rising

status of Soviet Russian culture; on the

other

hand,

it lowered the status

of artistic

cooperatives,

which were

handed over to

republic-level

committees and lost

the

possibility

of be-

coming part

of

an

all-union

organization.

Up

to

the

beginning

of

World

War

II,

new

characters

appeared

in the

organizational sphere

of art.

Within a short

period

of

time the

Organizational

Committee

(Orgko-

mitet)

of the Union of

Soviet

Artists

(1939),

the Stalin

Prize

in

the field of

literature

and art

(1939),

and the

Artistic Fund

(1940)

were

all

estab-

lished.

In

1940 the

organizing

committee

for

the exhibition

"Industry

of

Socialism" was

reorganized

into the Directorate of Exhibitions

and

Panoramas, with the right to purchase works of art. Although egalitarian

organizational principles

had

prevailed

in

Vsekokhudozhnik,

the essence

of the

institutional

reorganization

of 1936-1940

consisted

in

legitimizing

hierarchical relations.

51.

"O

merakh bor'bi

s

lzhekooperativami,"

Sobraniezakonov

i

rasporiazhenii ravi-

tel'stva

SSSR,

no. 3

(1929):

70-72.

52.

V.

S.

Manin

and Susan Reid also

argue

that the criticism of Vsekokhudozhnik

was

caused

by

the

organization's

excessive

economic

independence.

See

Manin,

Iskusstvo

rez-

ervatsii, 167-69, Reid,

"Destalinization and Remodernization of Soviet

Art,"

84.

53. On the

role

of

the discussion

of

formalism and the Committee on Artistic Affairs

in the 1936-1938 "cultural

revolution,"

see L.

V.

Maksimenkov,

Sumburvmesto

muzyki:

tal-

inskaia kul'turnaiarevoliutsiia,1936-1938 (Moscow, 1997).

54.

A

collection

of

attacks on formalists was

published

in

O.

Beskin's

book

O

Formal-

isme

v

zhivopisi

(Moscow,

1933).



16/24

The Economic Dimensions

of

Art in

the

Stalinist Era 783

Only

after the

Organizational

Committee

(under

pressure

from

above)

was formed did

a

second wave

of local

artists' unions come

into

be-

ing.

These differed from the

existing

unions

mainly

in

having

different re-

quirements

for

membership.

The

Organizational

Committee

stipulated

that the

following

artists could be members of the union: those

with

spe-

cialized education

who

produced independent original

works

of

high

quality

and

who

regularly participated

in

exhibitions

or

whose works were

hung

in

state

galleries

and

museums;

those

independently staging pro-

ductions

in

state

theaters;

critics and art

scholars

publishing

in

the Soviet

press;

masters

of

folk

art

creating independent,

unique

works of

high

quality.55

These

relatively

harsh

and,

at

the same

time,

subjective

requirements

immediately

eliminated

a

significant percentage

of

artists

from

the union.

The new rules of membership reinforced the hierarchical nature of the

union

and limited the

number

of

artists who would have access

to

the

more

interesting

and

profitable

commissions.

Out

of

approximately

5,000

artists

working

in

Moscow

in

1939,

only

800

met

the

requirements

of

the

charter

of

the Union of Soviet Artists.

A

similar situation

developed

in

the

provinces.

For

example,

in

the Perm

(Molotov)

oblast,

only

sixteen out of

twenty-eight registered

artists

joined

the

oblast

union.56

An

approximate

idea of the

number

of

artists

remaining

outside the

union can be

gleaned

from

the all-Union census and the Committee on

Artistic Affairs data.

The

committee

membership

lists for

1

June

1941,

which

generally correspond

to the

data

from

the

Union of

Artists,

include

1,916

painters,

779

graphic

artists,447

sculptors,

527

designers,

and 55 art

scholars,

for a total

of

3,724

representatives

of

the artistic

professions.57

According

to

the

census data

of

1939,

almost

24,000

people

considered

themselves to be artists.

Established

in

1939,

the

Stalin

Prize

decisively positioned hierarchy

and status as

the

dominant

qualities

of Stalinist

culture. The

appearance

of this

prize

finalized

the formation

of

this

system

of

rank

and

privilege.

In

1947

only

the

title Member

of

the USSR

Academy

of Arts

was added to

the titles Honored and

People's

Artists of the

USSR,

Stalin Prize

laureate,

Supreme

Soviet

deputy,

and

recipients

of

honorary

orders. Possession of

any one of these titles provided symbolic capital, giving an artist substan-

tial material

and

social

privileges, although

it

did not

provide

defense

against

ideological

disgrace

and

political repression.

In

regard

to the

sta-

tus

of

cooperative

artists,

membership

in

Vsekokhudozhnik did not offer

any particular

advantages,

apart

from such small

pleasures

as

paid

busi-

ness

trips

or

advanced

training programs.

In

1940,

a

structure

appeared

that

paralleled

the

institutional func-

tions of

Vsekokhudozhnik:

a

government

decree established the Artistic

Fund

to

provide

creative and material assistance to artists. A tradition of

suppor

The Economic Dimensions of Art in the Stalinist Era

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Transcript of The Economic Dimensions of Art in the Stalinist Era