Iron and the Lady: Vera Mukhina's exhibition celebrates the creative struggle

Fragments of the original steel structures for the "Worker and Collective Farmer", avant—garde theatrical sketches, glass products and monuments rejected by the authorities - all this can be seen at the Vera Mukhina exhibition. Towards the Wind", which opened in the State Historical Museum (more precisely, its branch — the Museum of the Patriotic War of 1812). The retrospective organized by Rosizo shows the work of the most famous Soviet sculptor in no way a textbook, although the most famous subjects found a place here. Izvestia rated the project among the first.

The dynamics of life

Vera Mukhina's name is associated by the general public, of course, with "The Worker and the collective farmer" — one of the most recognizable, emblematic artistic images of the entire Soviet era. And it seems to many that its author is an exemplary socialist realist, favored by the authorities. The exhibition clearly demonstrates why this representation is at least incomplete and one-sided.

Experts and connoisseurs of art, of course, are aware that in the 1910s and 1920s Mukhina paid tribute to the most radical trends of the era, primarily constructivism. In a recently published book about Russian avant-garde artists (Izvestia wrote about this volume) her name is on a par with Natalia Goncharova, Lyubov Popova, Alexandra Exter. However, this is also a stretch: unlike the listed figures, Mukhina created her main works already in the Stalin era and in a different aesthetic direction. But all the more interesting. Her personality resists labeling, turns out to be more voluminous than stereotypes. The exhibition eloquently testifies to this.

In the first hall, called Dynamics, we just see the works of the early period: theatrical sketches and the 1925 full—length wooden sculpture Julia from the Tretyakov Gallery, a powerful naked young lady, which Deineka loved to draw. But in her later works, Mukhina also praised not the tenderness and sophistication of female beauty, but vitality, energy, and even some severity. "A galloping horse will stop...".

For the first time "Julia" was revealed to the public at the exhibition of the Historical Museum, held in 1926, and it seems especially symbolic that exactly one hundred years later, the Museum returns this work to its space and remembers the artist, whose path to great fame began within its walls.

Graphic works are no less interesting. Large sheets are juxtaposed here with miniature sketches, and the latter are no less expressive. Most gouaches were made on the table, for performances that were never staged. However, these works are self-sufficient and in no way inferior to the similar experiments of Alexandra Exter, and other artists of the 1920s who collaborated with the theater. And most importantly, in expressive, emotional images, which are also conventionally avant—garde, one feels the same impulse, the same aspiration, which will become Mukhina's signature technique as a sculptor.

From Paris to VDNKH

The central hall of the exhibition is expectedly dedicated to "The Worker and the collective farmer." And although there are a number of busts from the 1930s and 1940s - for example, the harsh "Partisan" (another revealing female image) — all the viewer's attention will inevitably be focused on a familiar image. He is here in many incarnations. Of course, no one took the original statue from VDNKH to Revolution Square. Instead, we see a small bronze sketch from 1936, a model of the Soviet pavilion at the World Exhibition in Paris, where the composition was first shown, as well as a number of photographs from the French capital.

These images are reproduced in the form of large projections, and this solution seems doubly advantageous. Firstly, the sculpture itself tends towards scale and panoramicity. And secondly, Muscovites who are accustomed to the current visual context of the "Worker and the Collective Farmer" are no less impressed by the proximity of the statue to the Eiffel Tower and the Seine River than the work itself.

There are two more interesting exhibits in the hall. These are fragments of the sculpture's original internal frame — massive metal structures. Of course, they have no artistic value. But historical, of course. And, of course, the contrast between the rough, heavy texture of the "skeleton" and the airy appearance of the work is striking.

The name of the exhibition does not accidentally use the phrase "towards the wind": many of Mukhina's works, including the main ones, depict people as if rushing into an air stream, boldly going against the elements. Such are the allegorical "Icarus", "Boreas" (both in 1938) and the failed avant—garde monument to Sverdlov (the authorities rejected this sketch from 1922-1923), such is the most important sculpture "Wind" (1926-1927): a girl in a long skirt walks towards a whirlwind with visible effort, spreading her legs wide and dodging to the side.

Isn't this a metaphor for the socio-political turbulence of the early Soviet years, as well as an anthem for a Russian woman who built a bright future despite all the hardships of life? But after all, in essence, this is what the worker and the collective farmer are like, with the only difference being that they come out of this struggle victorious, while in the "Wind" the outcome is unclear.

Despite all the winds

If you know Mukhina's earlier sculptures, then "Worker and collective farmer" is perceived differently, less formally and straightforwardly. However, Vera Ignatievna's image becomes even more voluminous thanks to glass products. In the late 1930s, she initiated the revival of glassblowing in the USSR, and completed a number of vases and small compositions at an experimental plant in Leningrad. Decorative objects occupy an unexpectedly important place in the exhibition, reminding that their creator was not at all alien to the desire for elegance.

However, even here Mukhina avoids pure aesthetics, strives for functionality, rigor of form, restrained laconism of drawing. But this also characterizes her vividly. Perhaps she herself was like her heroines: strong-willed, determined, ready to fight. And she really had to fight, and all her life, even when she was overshadowed by worldwide fame. For example, the Tchaikovsky monument she invented, which now adorns Bolshaya Nikitskaya and is considered a symbol of the Moscow Conservatory, was persistently rejected by various commissions. Mukhina had to contact Stalin personally (the letter is quoted at the exhibition, along with the original graphic sketch of the sculpture) in order to get things off the ground. Nevertheless, the work was installed only after the death of the artist.

The theme of failed or extant sculptures is one of the leitmotifs of the exhibition. He literally finds himself in the center of attention: in the middle of the main hall, we see a row of vertical panels forming a circle. And in each of them there are many sheets with the names of works that have not been preserved. Moreover, the list is far from complete: for example, there is no constructivist Izvestia pavilion for the agricultural exhibition of 1923, from which only sketches (made jointly with Alexandra Exter) and photographs remain. But the names given are also impressive. It turns out that this is an illusion that sculpture has a better chance of surviving over the centuries than the seemingly more fragile genres of painting and graphics.…

But still, despite all the failures, Mukhina, like few others, consolidated her legacy and her very name in eternity. And even in this circular installation of panels resembling the sides of a glass, one can see a subtle hint of the alleged work of Vera Ignatievna, for which she will forever remain in the heart of every Russian person.