State Hermitage Museum St Petersburg

Page 1


ON THE RIGHT OF CHOICE

One can enter and introduce people to the museum through various doors. In the present case, we go in through the director’s office. This is a specific genre of visit with its own peculiarities, merits and shortcomings. It might be highly personal. All directors have their own, particular concept of the composition and significance of the collections for the sake of which they work. That can change from person to person and from era to era. Two positions might harmonise, but they might also clash. I have written not about my own tastes, but about my vision of the museum today: about the concept for the development of the ‘Greater Hermitage’. I myself have been connected with the Hermitage all my life. I grew up in it. I remember several generations of Hermitage staff, and the way the significance of exhibits changes even when they retain their place in the display. A huge encyclopaedic museum is entirely constructed upon dialogues. Those arise in various ways and may do again in the future. They are brought about in some instances by hanging paintings in a different way, as in the Rembrandt Hall; in others by the link between the architecture and the history of how it is perceived (the Raphael Loggias, see pp. 8–9, and White Dining Room, see pp 10–11), by a dialogue between the Bible and abstract art (Kandinsky, see pp. 88–91), or by changed perceptions resulting from new attributions (Cleopatra, see pp. 12–13). Everyone has their own Hermitage. The Director has the right to that, too. He should express it in more than just his orders and administrative decisions. I set forth the principles behind my decisions and renunciations of them, my actions or lack of them in the post of coordinator and defender of the museum’s rights in books – My Hermitage, For Museums There Are No Taboos, From the Scythians to Kiefer and The View from the Hermitage – in the forewords to catalogues, in newspaper columns and television programmes. I am delighted to be able to share once again the pleasure and the revelations that the museum provides to its devoted servant. And to do that not so much through words as through their attractive and informative visual accompaniments.

Mikhail Piotrovsky Director of the State Hermitage Museum

4

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E


ON THE RIGHT OF CHOICE

One can enter and introduce people to the museum through various doors. In the present case, we go in through the director’s office. This is a specific genre of visit with its own peculiarities, merits and shortcomings. It might be highly personal. All directors have their own, particular concept of the composition and significance of the collections for the sake of which they work. That can change from person to person and from era to era. Two positions might harmonise, but they might also clash. I have written not about my own tastes, but about my vision of the museum today: about the concept for the development of the ‘Greater Hermitage’. I myself have been connected with the Hermitage all my life. I grew up in it. I remember several generations of Hermitage staff, and the way the significance of exhibits changes even when they retain their place in the display. A huge encyclopaedic museum is entirely constructed upon dialogues. Those arise in various ways and may do again in the future. They are brought about in some instances by hanging paintings in a different way, as in the Rembrandt Hall; in others by the link between the architecture and the history of how it is perceived (the Raphael Loggias, see pp. 8–9, and White Dining Room, see pp 10–11), by a dialogue between the Bible and abstract art (Kandinsky, see pp. 88–91), or by changed perceptions resulting from new attributions (Cleopatra, see pp. 12–13). Everyone has their own Hermitage. The Director has the right to that, too. He should express it in more than just his orders and administrative decisions. I set forth the principles behind my decisions and renunciations of them, my actions or lack of them in the post of coordinator and defender of the museum’s rights in books – My Hermitage, For Museums There Are No Taboos, From the Scythians to Kiefer and The View from the Hermitage – in the forewords to catalogues, in newspaper columns and television programmes. I am delighted to be able to share once again the pleasure and the revelations that the museum provides to its devoted servant. And to do that not so much through words as through their attractive and informative visual accompaniments.

Mikhail Piotrovsky Director of the State Hermitage Museum

4

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E


Twelve-Column Hall, 1851 Vasily Stasov and Nikolai Yefimov after a design by Leo von Klenze New Hermitage. Hall 244

Ceiling painting of the Twelve-Column Hall.

The Twelve-Column Hall is the most elegant space in the architectural symphony of the New Hermitage interiors. Relatively small in floor area, it divides neatly into several parts that form a well-proportioned whole: the Oval Hall, the corner area and the balconies. The last feature is unique in the Hermitage: in contrast to the majority of similar upper galleries in other halls that take the form of a narrow walkway for service use only, the balconies here are broad and at one time served as concealed offices or studies (the stairs are tucked away behind a locked side door). The hall has an exceptionally harmonious appearance: dark granite Corinthian columns are echoed by white caryatids above, opposite which white columns with Ionic capitals are lit by the upper tier of windows. Below, the interior is adorned by vases, cut from semi-precious stone at the imperial lapidary works in Yekaterinburg, and two torchères, the design of which is attributed to Andrei Voronikhin (the architect of the Kazan Cathedral on Nevsky Prospekt) – Egyptian women in gilded clothing bearing great bowls on their heads. Their figures provide an ideal culminating chord in the architectural melody with its subtle allusion to the image of ideal antiquity. This ensemble was not spoiled even by a direct hit from an artillery shell during the Second World War. This hall is well suited to the exhibitions of graphic art that are regularly held here, such as displays of work by Piranesi or Quarenghi. Its austere intimacy invests pictures with a special resonance. Once, during a period of restoration to the galleries, the Hermitage’s collection of Venetian paintings was temporarily housed in the Twelve-Column Hall; the dense way they were hung then formed a real visual symphony.

T W E LV E - C O L U M N H A L L

­|

7


Twelve-Column Hall, 1851 Vasily Stasov and Nikolai Yefimov after a design by Leo von Klenze New Hermitage. Hall 244

Ceiling painting of the Twelve-Column Hall.

The Twelve-Column Hall is the most elegant space in the architectural symphony of the New Hermitage interiors. Relatively small in floor area, it divides neatly into several parts that form a well-proportioned whole: the Oval Hall, the corner area and the balconies. The last feature is unique in the Hermitage: in contrast to the majority of similar upper galleries in other halls that take the form of a narrow walkway for service use only, the balconies here are broad and at one time served as concealed offices or studies (the stairs are tucked away behind a locked side door). The hall has an exceptionally harmonious appearance: dark granite Corinthian columns are echoed by white caryatids above, opposite which white columns with Ionic capitals are lit by the upper tier of windows. Below, the interior is adorned by vases, cut from semi-precious stone at the imperial lapidary works in Yekaterinburg, and two torchères, the design of which is attributed to Andrei Voronikhin (the architect of the Kazan Cathedral on Nevsky Prospekt) – Egyptian women in gilded clothing bearing great bowls on their heads. Their figures provide an ideal culminating chord in the architectural melody with its subtle allusion to the image of ideal antiquity. This ensemble was not spoiled even by a direct hit from an artillery shell during the Second World War. This hall is well suited to the exhibitions of graphic art that are regularly held here, such as displays of work by Piranesi or Quarenghi. Its austere intimacy invests pictures with a special resonance. Once, during a period of restoration to the galleries, the Hermitage’s collection of Venetian paintings was temporarily housed in the Twelve-Column Hall; the dense way they were hung then formed a real visual symphony.

T W E LV E - C O L U M N H A L L

­|

7


Raphael Loggias, 1783–92 Designed by Giacomo Quarenghi New Hermitage, Hall 227

It is said that on one gloomy Saint Petersburg day Empress Catherine II was viewing tinted engravings of the sights of Rome when she decided that she wanted her own replica of the Raphael Loggias in the Vatican. Soon her agent in the Eternal City, Johann Friedrich Reiffenstein, had commissioned copies of the murals, to be made in Rome under the direction of the artist Christoph Unterberger. Four years were spent building the Saint Petersburg Loggias on the basis of carefully measured architectural drawings. The copies – painted on canvas and brought from Italy – were installed in frames made of chestnut wood. The frescoes depict scenes from the Old and New Testaments and are therefore sometimes called ‘Raphael’s Bible’, while the grotesque ornaments were inspired by the murals in the palace of the Roman Emperor Nero, which had been rediscovered in Raphael’s lifetime. The Loggias became the finishing touch of Catherine’s Hermitage. The thirteen bays are separated by arches. The endless row of huge windows is echoed in grand mirrors. The cold northern light softens the gleam of the gold and creates an extraordinary atmosphere. The Empress’s whim became both an important sight in our museum and an embodiment of the continuity of cultures. The devices of the Medici on the original murals were replaced, on the copies, by symbols of Russia. Raphael’s portrait was emphasised. Under the Soviet Union, which was officially atheistic, people would learn the Bible story on guided tours of the Loggias. Catherine’s copies were an important addition to the original Hermitage, preserving as they do the eighteenth-century state of Raphael’s paintings and the way they were then understood.

8

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E


Raphael Loggias, 1783–92 Designed by Giacomo Quarenghi New Hermitage, Hall 227

It is said that on one gloomy Saint Petersburg day Empress Catherine II was viewing tinted engravings of the sights of Rome when she decided that she wanted her own replica of the Raphael Loggias in the Vatican. Soon her agent in the Eternal City, Johann Friedrich Reiffenstein, had commissioned copies of the murals, to be made in Rome under the direction of the artist Christoph Unterberger. Four years were spent building the Saint Petersburg Loggias on the basis of carefully measured architectural drawings. The copies – painted on canvas and brought from Italy – were installed in frames made of chestnut wood. The frescoes depict scenes from the Old and New Testaments and are therefore sometimes called ‘Raphael’s Bible’, while the grotesque ornaments were inspired by the murals in the palace of the Roman Emperor Nero, which had been rediscovered in Raphael’s lifetime. The Loggias became the finishing touch of Catherine’s Hermitage. The thirteen bays are separated by arches. The endless row of huge windows is echoed in grand mirrors. The cold northern light softens the gleam of the gold and creates an extraordinary atmosphere. The Empress’s whim became both an important sight in our museum and an embodiment of the continuity of cultures. The devices of the Medici on the original murals were replaced, on the copies, by symbols of Russia. Raphael’s portrait was emphasised. Under the Soviet Union, which was officially atheistic, people would learn the Bible story on guided tours of the Loggias. Catherine’s copies were an important addition to the original Hermitage, preserving as they do the eighteenth-century state of Raphael’s paintings and the way they were then understood.

8

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E


White (or Small) Dining Room, 1894–95 Designed by Alexander Krasovsky Winter Palace, Hall 188

To distinguish it from the nearby Moorish Dining Room, the White Dining Room is also known as the Small Dining Room. It is finished in the Rococo style and the walls are hung with tapestries that depict allegories of the world’s continents. Located near the sumptuous Malachite Room and the enfilade of grand halls on the Neva side of the Winter Palace, this room is striking in its intimate size and modest decoration. White walls and furniture are illuminated by the dim light from windows that open onto a narrow inner courtyard. On three sides the room has solid doors that seem to hold outsiders back from the cosy self-contained world in which the family of the last emperor spent much of its private life. Fate determined that this small room, intended for a close-knit group to take a quiet meal, would be the setting for a turning point in Russian history: in the early hours of 26 October 1917 the Bolsheviks burst in and arrested the ministers of the Provisional Government. A memorial plaque on the mantelpiece commemorates that event. Another reminder is the clock on the back of a black rhinoceros, also on the mantelpiece, that was stopped for many years, showing the time when the government was arrested. It was set going again on the hundredth anniversary of the Revolution. Clocks ought to run, even in a museum.

10

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E


White (or Small) Dining Room, 1894–95 Designed by Alexander Krasovsky Winter Palace, Hall 188

To distinguish it from the nearby Moorish Dining Room, the White Dining Room is also known as the Small Dining Room. It is finished in the Rococo style and the walls are hung with tapestries that depict allegories of the world’s continents. Located near the sumptuous Malachite Room and the enfilade of grand halls on the Neva side of the Winter Palace, this room is striking in its intimate size and modest decoration. White walls and furniture are illuminated by the dim light from windows that open onto a narrow inner courtyard. On three sides the room has solid doors that seem to hold outsiders back from the cosy self-contained world in which the family of the last emperor spent much of its private life. Fate determined that this small room, intended for a close-knit group to take a quiet meal, would be the setting for a turning point in Russian history: in the early hours of 26 October 1917 the Bolsheviks burst in and arrested the ministers of the Provisional Government. A memorial plaque on the mantelpiece commemorates that event. Another reminder is the clock on the back of a black rhinoceros, also on the mantelpiece, that was stopped for many years, showing the time when the government was arrested. It was set going again on the hundredth anniversary of the Revolution. Clocks ought to run, even in a museum.

10

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E


The Gonzaga Cameo: Double Portrait of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II, 3rd century bc Alexandria, Egypt Sardonyx, silver, copper; 15.7 x 11.8 cm

Cameos are always attractive. The beauty is inherent in the difficulties of working a hard, multi-layered semi-precious stone, when the craftsman has to guess at the location of the differently coloured streaks and use them to create a new work of art. The difficulty produces the mastery – and the price. Our Gonzaga Cameo is one of the biggest and most exquisite in the world. A large piece of sardonyx was turned into a double portrait in profile making skilful use of the dark and white layers in the stone. From the white, two faces appeared – a man and a woman crowned with laurels as a mark of deification; from the dark stratum the craftsman carved out the closing and the man‘s helmet embellished with a winged dragon and a star. His cape has a clasp in the form of the head of Zeus. Two more bright patches became the heads of the Medusa and Phobos. The three layers of the stone have been polished in such a way that each gives off a different shine. This precious object is enchanting and mysterious, so it is not surprising that there are many uncanny legends about its influence on human destinies. Those tales are, though, less fascinating than its real history. This personal adornment was made in Alexandria, Egypt, in the third century bc and it depicts two rulers, a king and a queen. After much research and discussion, it is now generally accepted that the cameo is probably a portrait of two rulers of Hellenistic Egypt: Ptolemy II Philadelphus and Arsinoë II. They were husband and wife but also brother and sister, which is shocking to us today, but was the norm for Egyptian dynastic marriages. The Ptolemies were Greek, but demonstrated their devotion to an Eastern culture that was new to them and was of major importance during the Hellenistic era in which their dynasty ruled.

18

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

The astonishingly beautiful object belonged at one time to the rulers of Mantua, the Gonzaga family, before becoming a trophy of war when that city was captured and again when Prague fell at the end of the Thirty Years’ War (1648). Queen Christina of Sweden then brought the cameo back to Italy. Later it was seized from the Vatican by French troops and came into the hands of Napoleon himself, who presented it to his first wife, Josephine. Artists who saw the cameo in Josephine’s apartments were inspired to produce several imitations depicting Napoleon and his second wife, Marie-Louise, as the king and queen. Later Josephine made a gift of the precious trinket to the Russian Emperor Alexander I. This object exemplifies the difficulty of displaying cultural treasures in a museum, which lies in the need to stress an item’s uniqueness while at the same time showing links to the art of its time and its influence on the periods that followed.

THE GONZAGA CAMEO

­|

19


The Gonzaga Cameo: Double Portrait of Ptolemy II and Arsinoë II, 3rd century bc Alexandria, Egypt Sardonyx, silver, copper; 15.7 x 11.8 cm

Cameos are always attractive. The beauty is inherent in the difficulties of working a hard, multi-layered semi-precious stone, when the craftsman has to guess at the location of the differently coloured streaks and use them to create a new work of art. The difficulty produces the mastery – and the price. Our Gonzaga Cameo is one of the biggest and most exquisite in the world. A large piece of sardonyx was turned into a double portrait in profile making skilful use of the dark and white layers in the stone. From the white, two faces appeared – a man and a woman crowned with laurels as a mark of deification; from the dark stratum the craftsman carved out the closing and the man‘s helmet embellished with a winged dragon and a star. His cape has a clasp in the form of the head of Zeus. Two more bright patches became the heads of the Medusa and Phobos. The three layers of the stone have been polished in such a way that each gives off a different shine. This precious object is enchanting and mysterious, so it is not surprising that there are many uncanny legends about its influence on human destinies. Those tales are, though, less fascinating than its real history. This personal adornment was made in Alexandria, Egypt, in the third century bc and it depicts two rulers, a king and a queen. After much research and discussion, it is now generally accepted that the cameo is probably a portrait of two rulers of Hellenistic Egypt: Ptolemy II Philadelphus and Arsinoë II. They were husband and wife but also brother and sister, which is shocking to us today, but was the norm for Egyptian dynastic marriages. The Ptolemies were Greek, but demonstrated their devotion to an Eastern culture that was new to them and was of major importance during the Hellenistic era in which their dynasty ruled.

18

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

The astonishingly beautiful object belonged at one time to the rulers of Mantua, the Gonzaga family, before becoming a trophy of war when that city was captured and again when Prague fell at the end of the Thirty Years’ War (1648). Queen Christina of Sweden then brought the cameo back to Italy. Later it was seized from the Vatican by French troops and came into the hands of Napoleon himself, who presented it to his first wife, Josephine. Artists who saw the cameo in Josephine’s apartments were inspired to produce several imitations depicting Napoleon and his second wife, Marie-Louise, as the king and queen. Later Josephine made a gift of the precious trinket to the Russian Emperor Alexander I. This object exemplifies the difficulty of displaying cultural treasures in a museum, which lies in the need to stress an item’s uniqueness while at the same time showing links to the art of its time and its influence on the periods that followed.

THE GONZAGA CAMEO

­|

19


Sleeping Hermaphroditus Ancient Rome, Roman work after the Greek model of the 3rd–2nd century bc Marble; length: 146.5 cm

When I was a youngster attending the groups for schoolchildren in the Hermitage, I liked to sneak into one of the halls of Classical Antiquity and secretly inspect the statue of Hermaphroditus by the far wall. It was as if I were party to some arcane knowledge. The story itself was less important than the apparently forbidden nature of the subject. Still, the Hellenistic legend itself is very interesting. The name Hermaphroditus is a compound of two others: Hermes and Aphrodite, his father and mother. Hermaphroditus was a remarkably handsome youth, and the nymph Salmacis fell passionately in love with him. Determined to keep her beloved, she prayed to the gods to be united with him forever, and the result was a touching bisexual being. A story such as this has inevitably inspired artists. A famous sculpture by the Greek Polyclitus (active fifth century bc) gave rise to a host of imitations at the time of the Roman Empire and then again during the Renaissance. The Hermitage possesses six different replicas. The oldest of them is considered to be a Roman copy, but that is not entirely certain. It is definitely true that the bed is of later origin and repeats the mattress that Bernini created in 1620 for one of the finest sculptures of this type. The original mattress can now be found in the Louvre. Of the many copies, it is said that a bronze one was commissioned and taken back to Spain by Velázquez, perhaps influencing his famous Rokeby Venus (The Toilet of Venus, 1647–51). That work in turn inspired Francis Bacon in the twentieth century. It is also possible to detect the lines of our Hermitage sculpture in the savagely mutilated bodies of Bacon’s Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion (1944).

20

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

Another allusion to the sculpture appeared a few years ago. After the remarkable 2011–12 exhibition of Antony Gormley, which was constructed as a dialogue between his sculptures and the Hermitage’s Greco-Roman collection, I selected as a gift not a standard upright statue but a more original reclining figure made up of ‘pixels’. Today, in the General Staff Building, there is thus one more prostrate youth who, as it were, engages in a conversation with his brothers in the Swan Hall, by the Nicholas Staircase and in the repositories of the Departments of Classical Antiquity and Western European Art. Quite recently, too, in 1992, Russia (the only country in the world to have done so) produced a praiseworthy cartoon for adults entitled The Nymph Salmacis. The Hermitage is, of course, a chaste museum, but as well as the ambiguous Hermaphroditus it does exhibit another sculptural symbol of high eroticism: the Taurida Venus, which is today acknowledged to be a Hellenistic, rather than Roman, replica of the famous and provocative Aphrodite of Cnidus created by Praxiteles in the second century bc. In one of the museum’s passageways there is also a Roman sarcophagus that bears depictions of couples in amorous poses. And, biding their time in the storerooms, are erotic Ancient Egyptian miniature sculptures from the collection of Emperor Nicholas I and some splendid Japanese prints. Sadly, however, society here is still not ready to accept such works.

SLEEPING HERMAPHRODITUS

­|

21


Sleeping Hermaphroditus Ancient Rome, Roman work after the Greek model of the 3rd–2nd century bc Marble; length: 146.5 cm

When I was a youngster attending the groups for schoolchildren in the Hermitage, I liked to sneak into one of the halls of Classical Antiquity and secretly inspect the statue of Hermaphroditus by the far wall. It was as if I were party to some arcane knowledge. The story itself was less important than the apparently forbidden nature of the subject. Still, the Hellenistic legend itself is very interesting. The name Hermaphroditus is a compound of two others: Hermes and Aphrodite, his father and mother. Hermaphroditus was a remarkably handsome youth, and the nymph Salmacis fell passionately in love with him. Determined to keep her beloved, she prayed to the gods to be united with him forever, and the result was a touching bisexual being. A story such as this has inevitably inspired artists. A famous sculpture by the Greek Polyclitus (active fifth century bc) gave rise to a host of imitations at the time of the Roman Empire and then again during the Renaissance. The Hermitage possesses six different replicas. The oldest of them is considered to be a Roman copy, but that is not entirely certain. It is definitely true that the bed is of later origin and repeats the mattress that Bernini created in 1620 for one of the finest sculptures of this type. The original mattress can now be found in the Louvre. Of the many copies, it is said that a bronze one was commissioned and taken back to Spain by Velázquez, perhaps influencing his famous Rokeby Venus (The Toilet of Venus, 1647–51). That work in turn inspired Francis Bacon in the twentieth century. It is also possible to detect the lines of our Hermitage sculpture in the savagely mutilated bodies of Bacon’s Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion (1944).

20

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

Another allusion to the sculpture appeared a few years ago. After the remarkable 2011–12 exhibition of Antony Gormley, which was constructed as a dialogue between his sculptures and the Hermitage’s Greco-Roman collection, I selected as a gift not a standard upright statue but a more original reclining figure made up of ‘pixels’. Today, in the General Staff Building, there is thus one more prostrate youth who, as it were, engages in a conversation with his brothers in the Swan Hall, by the Nicholas Staircase and in the repositories of the Departments of Classical Antiquity and Western European Art. Quite recently, too, in 1992, Russia (the only country in the world to have done so) produced a praiseworthy cartoon for adults entitled The Nymph Salmacis. The Hermitage is, of course, a chaste museum, but as well as the ambiguous Hermaphroditus it does exhibit another sculptural symbol of high eroticism: the Taurida Venus, which is today acknowledged to be a Hellenistic, rather than Roman, replica of the famous and provocative Aphrodite of Cnidus created by Praxiteles in the second century bc. In one of the museum’s passageways there is also a Roman sarcophagus that bears depictions of couples in amorous poses. And, biding their time in the storerooms, are erotic Ancient Egyptian miniature sculptures from the collection of Emperor Nicholas I and some splendid Japanese prints. Sadly, however, society here is still not ready to accept such works.

SLEEPING HERMAPHRODITUS

­|

21


Pranidhi (Vow), 11th century Bezeklik, Turfan Loess plaster, straw, distemper paint, fresco secco technique; 370 x 227 cm

The mural is densely covered in figures with haloes, with the central character emitting a multicoloured glow. This is the Buddhist world in a scene depicting the Pranidhi ceremony, a ritual in which participants vow to live piously, making it possible for them to eventually attain Enlightenment. The subtle shades of paint in the work seem to correspond to the colours of the Central Asian desert. Originally, however, they were probably brighter. Painted on dry plaster, the mural was in the cave monastery of Bezeklik attached to the court of the Uighur rulers of Turfan (or Turpan, now in the north-west of the People’s Republic of China) on the famous Silk Road. It was discovered and moved to Saint Petersburg by the first Russian Turkistan Expedition (1909–10) led by the great Indologist and saviour of the Russian Academy of Sciences Sergei Fedorovich Oldenburg. The composition as a whole, strangely enough, reminds me of Orthodox icons depicting the Transfiguration: the large central figure is enclosed in a glow that casts itself onto the other participants in the scene. This similarity serves also to highlight a fundamental difference between the two. The Christian centrepiece is full of dynamism and movement in different directions; the Buddhist one is solemnly static and calm. The surrounding figures are also immobile and fill almost all the space leaving just one corner for the depiction of a palace. Tension and energy are present, however, but they express themselves through gesture and in the dynamic folds of the clothing. This picture is part of a series showing how to become a Buddha and specifically follows the path taken by the Buddha of our present age, Shakyamuni (Prince Siddhārtha). Most probably he is the one being blessed by the central figure Amitābha, the Buddha of the Pure Land of Perfect Bliss. Those standing around are bodhisattvas, people who have

22

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

PRANIDHI (VOW)

­|

23


Pranidhi (Vow), 11th century Bezeklik, Turfan Loess plaster, straw, distemper paint, fresco secco technique; 370 x 227 cm

The mural is densely covered in figures with haloes, with the central character emitting a multicoloured glow. This is the Buddhist world in a scene depicting the Pranidhi ceremony, a ritual in which participants vow to live piously, making it possible for them to eventually attain Enlightenment. The subtle shades of paint in the work seem to correspond to the colours of the Central Asian desert. Originally, however, they were probably brighter. Painted on dry plaster, the mural was in the cave monastery of Bezeklik attached to the court of the Uighur rulers of Turfan (or Turpan, now in the north-west of the People’s Republic of China) on the famous Silk Road. It was discovered and moved to Saint Petersburg by the first Russian Turkistan Expedition (1909–10) led by the great Indologist and saviour of the Russian Academy of Sciences Sergei Fedorovich Oldenburg. The composition as a whole, strangely enough, reminds me of Orthodox icons depicting the Transfiguration: the large central figure is enclosed in a glow that casts itself onto the other participants in the scene. This similarity serves also to highlight a fundamental difference between the two. The Christian centrepiece is full of dynamism and movement in different directions; the Buddhist one is solemnly static and calm. The surrounding figures are also immobile and fill almost all the space leaving just one corner for the depiction of a palace. Tension and energy are present, however, but they express themselves through gesture and in the dynamic folds of the clothing. This picture is part of a series showing how to become a Buddha and specifically follows the path taken by the Buddha of our present age, Shakyamuni (Prince Siddhārtha). Most probably he is the one being blessed by the central figure Amitābha, the Buddha of the Pure Land of Perfect Bliss. Those standing around are bodhisattvas, people who have

22

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

PRANIDHI (VOW)

­|

23


Double-Headed Buddha, 13th–14th centuries Khara-Khoto, Tangut state of Xi Xia (now Inner Mongolia, China) Clay, mineral paint, gilding; height: 62 cm

The striking double-headed Buddha (made from clay on a wooden framework) attracts particular attention in the Hermitage where doubleheaded eagles, the proud symbols of Russia, await visitors at every turn. It immediately calls to mind various artistic and heraldic exotica with two-headed animals, or Janus statues or trompe l’oeil paintings – even a child’s flip-book where features are mixed up to create monsters. Only none of that applies to this Buddha. This is a mysterious, yet charming figure with two gently smiling heads, a single trunk and four arms. The statue was moulded from soft clay, then gilded and painted. To some extent, a work like this is within the mainstream of the Eastern tradition of depicting many-armed deities, but it is marked by a Buddhist contemplativeness and gentleness that are clearly stylistically out of tune with possible parallels. Some sort of moving story is called for here. And there is one. In fact, there are two tales of journeys: one from East to West, the other from West to East. Buddhist monk and Chinese enlightener Xuanzang travelled westwards from China along the Great Silk Road as far as India in the seventh century. He heard and recorded a story of two pious men who dreamt of obtaining a statue of the Buddha but lacked sufficient money, so they commissioned the artist to make one for both of them. The Buddha was touched by their devotion and out of compassion divided the figure into two. The second story concerns the outstanding Russian geographer and explorer Piotr Kozlov, who travelled a route from West to East, following Central Asian branches of the Silk Road. He heard tell of the ‘dead city’ of Khara-Khoto buried in the sand. Kozlov went to the mysterious site and discovered nothing less than the entire civilisation of the Tanguts and their state, Xi Xia, about which no more than a few names had been known. He discovered ‘mountains’ of documents, legal and religious texts that made

28

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

it possible for scholars, over several generations, to give knowledge back to the world about the Tanguts, their history and culture. A large number of Tangut, Tibetan and Chinese artworks were also recovered, among which was this statue of the double-headed Buddha. Kozlov found it in 1909 when excavating a suburgan (sepulchral stupa) in which the city’s inhabitants had concealed a host of Buddhist sculptures, evidently out of fear of conquerors. A photograph from the time shows a ‘crowd’ of religious statues, with the double-headed Buddha and a crowned Buddha, now also in the Hermitage, standing next to each other. Kozlov managed to bring back the pair to Saint Petersburg, but he buried the rest of the finds in a secluded place. When he returned to Khara-Khoto a few years later he was unable to find h i s hoard, and it is not known what has become of it. The unique double-headed Buddha has spent time in various countries and various repositories. Today it adorns the Tangut Hall in the Hermitage. It is not, of course, the sculpture that Xuanzang heard tell of, but there is no comparable figure in the world. History does produce some wonderful echoes.

DOUBLE-HEADED BUDDHA

­|

29


Double-Headed Buddha, 13th–14th centuries Khara-Khoto, Tangut state of Xi Xia (now Inner Mongolia, China) Clay, mineral paint, gilding; height: 62 cm

The striking double-headed Buddha (made from clay on a wooden framework) attracts particular attention in the Hermitage where doubleheaded eagles, the proud symbols of Russia, await visitors at every turn. It immediately calls to mind various artistic and heraldic exotica with two-headed animals, or Janus statues or trompe l’oeil paintings – even a child’s flip-book where features are mixed up to create monsters. Only none of that applies to this Buddha. This is a mysterious, yet charming figure with two gently smiling heads, a single trunk and four arms. The statue was moulded from soft clay, then gilded and painted. To some extent, a work like this is within the mainstream of the Eastern tradition of depicting many-armed deities, but it is marked by a Buddhist contemplativeness and gentleness that are clearly stylistically out of tune with possible parallels. Some sort of moving story is called for here. And there is one. In fact, there are two tales of journeys: one from East to West, the other from West to East. Buddhist monk and Chinese enlightener Xuanzang travelled westwards from China along the Great Silk Road as far as India in the seventh century. He heard and recorded a story of two pious men who dreamt of obtaining a statue of the Buddha but lacked sufficient money, so they commissioned the artist to make one for both of them. The Buddha was touched by their devotion and out of compassion divided the figure into two. The second story concerns the outstanding Russian geographer and explorer Piotr Kozlov, who travelled a route from West to East, following Central Asian branches of the Silk Road. He heard tell of the ‘dead city’ of Khara-Khoto buried in the sand. Kozlov went to the mysterious site and discovered nothing less than the entire civilisation of the Tanguts and their state, Xi Xia, about which no more than a few names had been known. He discovered ‘mountains’ of documents, legal and religious texts that made

28

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

it possible for scholars, over several generations, to give knowledge back to the world about the Tanguts, their history and culture. A large number of Tangut, Tibetan and Chinese artworks were also recovered, among which was this statue of the double-headed Buddha. Kozlov found it in 1909 when excavating a suburgan (sepulchral stupa) in which the city’s inhabitants had concealed a host of Buddhist sculptures, evidently out of fear of conquerors. A photograph from the time shows a ‘crowd’ of religious statues, with the double-headed Buddha and a crowned Buddha, now also in the Hermitage, standing next to each other. Kozlov managed to bring back the pair to Saint Petersburg, but he buried the rest of the finds in a secluded place. When he returned to Khara-Khoto a few years later he was unable to find h i s hoard, and it is not known what has become of it. The unique double-headed Buddha has spent time in various countries and various repositories. Today it adorns the Tangut Hall in the Hermitage. It is not, of course, the sculpture that Xuanzang heard tell of, but there is no comparable figure in the world. History does produce some wonderful echoes.

DOUBLE-HEADED BUDDHA

­|

29


his dynasty, captured but then lost Afghan and Iranian cities, and fought against the Portuguese. He was deposed by his own son, Aurangzeb, and spent his last eight years in confinement. Visitors to the Red Fort in Agra are often shown the rooms in which he supposedly lived, looking out at his great creation in honour of his love – the Taj Mahal. The ring brought the memory of all this to Russia in the course of yet another astonishing historical episode. In 1739 the great Persian conqueror Nadir Shah captured Delhi and plundered the Mughal emperors’ treasury. His pride in his victory was so great that he sent part of the spoils as a boastful present to his powerful neighbours, Russia among them. In 1741 the Shah’s embassy arrived in Saint Petersburg, where the nominal ruler was the infant Ivan VI Antonovich. The gifts were accepted and shared out between members of the ruling house. A considerable number of them later entered the Hermitage collection, but without any explanation of their origin. It was only in the twentieth century that they were identified as having come from a single source and became a particular pride for the museum and one of the world’s finest collections of imperial Mughal jewellery. Shah Jahan’s ring, rich with ‘reminders’ and cultural allusions, is the gem in that collection. Incidentally, Nadir Shah also sometimes styled himself Sahib-e Qiran-i Sani.

34

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E


his dynasty, captured but then lost Afghan and Iranian cities, and fought against the Portuguese. He was deposed by his own son, Aurangzeb, and spent his last eight years in confinement. Visitors to the Red Fort in Agra are often shown the rooms in which he supposedly lived, looking out at his great creation in honour of his love – the Taj Mahal. The ring brought the memory of all this to Russia in the course of yet another astonishing historical episode. In 1739 the great Persian conqueror Nadir Shah captured Delhi and plundered the Mughal emperors’ treasury. His pride in his victory was so great that he sent part of the spoils as a boastful present to his powerful neighbours, Russia among them. In 1741 the Shah’s embassy arrived in Saint Petersburg, where the nominal ruler was the infant Ivan VI Antonovich. The gifts were accepted and shared out between members of the ruling house. A considerable number of them later entered the Hermitage collection, but without any explanation of their origin. It was only in the twentieth century that they were identified as having come from a single source and became a particular pride for the museum and one of the world’s finest collections of imperial Mughal jewellery. Shah Jahan’s ring, rich with ‘reminders’ and cultural allusions, is the gem in that collection. Incidentally, Nadir Shah also sometimes styled himself Sahib-e Qiran-i Sani.

34

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E


Battle Between Persians and Russians, c. 1815–16 Iran Oil on canvas; 230 x 395 cm

This large picture seems to be strewn with little tin soldiers in Russian and Persian uniforms, cannons, tents and a few people from other nations. In this canvas the traditions of the Eastern miniature seek to expand in the spirit of European painting. This was typical in Iran during the Qajar dynasty of the nineteenth century when the desire to accept European technical accomplishments was reflected in the creation of oil paintings. The aesthetics of delicate miniature art were successfully applied to large canvases pasted onto walls. They were chiefly formal portraits that have recently gained broad public recognition. This painting and its companion, depicting a parade, were made for Abbas Mirza (1789–1833), the son and heir of Fath Ali Shah. Abbas Mirza ruled the southern Caucasus and commanded the Iranian forces in two wars against Russia (1804–13 and 1826–28), losing them to Yermolov and Paskevich. He tried to reconstruct his army based on the European model, as is shown in the picture of a military parade, where the troops have formed up in a European manner, but Abbas Mirza himself is kneeling at the feet of his father, almost as on ancient Persian reliefs. In this work, though, he is the chief protagonist, commanding his forces on horseback. The heads of Russian soldiers are being cast before him as the outnumbered remainder defend their camp beneath banners with the double-headed eagle. The neatly placed Persian battery is bombarding the enemy. Some of the Iranian forces beneath the lion-and-sun banner have already entered the Russian camp. Guns are firing, sabres are glistening, drums are beating. In the middle of the attacking units we can clearly see the figures of foreign officers directing the fighting. The outcome is quite obvious: the Iranians will win.

36

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

Detail caption text

B AT T L E B E T W E E N P E R S I A N S A N D RU S S I A N S

­|

37


Battle Between Persians and Russians, c. 1815–16 Iran Oil on canvas; 230 x 395 cm

This large picture seems to be strewn with little tin soldiers in Russian and Persian uniforms, cannons, tents and a few people from other nations. In this canvas the traditions of the Eastern miniature seek to expand in the spirit of European painting. This was typical in Iran during the Qajar dynasty of the nineteenth century when the desire to accept European technical accomplishments was reflected in the creation of oil paintings. The aesthetics of delicate miniature art were successfully applied to large canvases pasted onto walls. They were chiefly formal portraits that have recently gained broad public recognition. This painting and its companion, depicting a parade, were made for Abbas Mirza (1789–1833), the son and heir of Fath Ali Shah. Abbas Mirza ruled the southern Caucasus and commanded the Iranian forces in two wars against Russia (1804–13 and 1826–28), losing them to Yermolov and Paskevich. He tried to reconstruct his army based on the European model, as is shown in the picture of a military parade, where the troops have formed up in a European manner, but Abbas Mirza himself is kneeling at the feet of his father, almost as on ancient Persian reliefs. In this work, though, he is the chief protagonist, commanding his forces on horseback. The heads of Russian soldiers are being cast before him as the outnumbered remainder defend their camp beneath banners with the double-headed eagle. The neatly placed Persian battery is bombarding the enemy. Some of the Iranian forces beneath the lion-and-sun banner have already entered the Russian camp. Guns are firing, sabres are glistening, drums are beating. In the middle of the attacking units we can clearly see the figures of foreign officers directing the fighting. The outcome is quite obvious: the Iranians will win.

36

|

T H E H E R M I TAG E

Detail caption text

B AT T L E B E T W E E N P E R S I A N S A N D RU S S I A N S

­|

37


Mikhail Piotrovsky. Director’s Choice – Saint Petersburg. Arca Publishers, 2019. 96 pages, 60 colour illustrations.

FRONTISPIECE: The Tent-Roofed Hall, second half of the 18th century Designed by Leo von Klenze

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior permission in writing from the rights holders. In collaboration with Scala Arts & Heritage Publishers Ltd 10 Lion Yard, Tremadoc Road

FRONT COVER: The Return of the Prodigal Son (detail), c.1668 Rembrandt (see pp. 62–5)

London SW4 7NQ, UK www.scalapublishers.com © Mikhail Piotrovsky, text, 2019 © The State Hermitage Museum, 2019 © Arca Publishers, English edition, 2019

BACK COVER: The Three Graces (detail), 1813–16 Antonio Canova (see pp. 46–7)

© Scala Arts & Heritage Publishers Ltd, 2019 © Estate of H. Matisse, 2019 © Estate of Picasso, 2019 © Ilya and Emilia Kabakov / BILD-KUNST / UPRAVIS, 2019 ISBN 978-5-91208-408-9

Text: Mikhail Piotrovsky Design: Vladimir Yakovlev Photographs: Yuri Molodkovets, Svetlana Suyetova, Inna Regentova, Andrey Terebenin, Vladimir Terebenin, Leonard Heifetz Colour correction: Igor Bondar Translation: Paul Williams Translation editor: Nina Zhutovsky Project coordinators: Olga Borodyanskaya and Pauline Yermakova Director’s Choice is a registered trademark of Scala Arts & Heritage Publishers Ltd.

ARCA Publishers 6–8, Palace Square (Dvortsovaya Ploshchad) Saint Petersburg, Russia +7 812 495 71 42 +7 812 495 71 44 arca@arcapublishers.ru

Other interesting books on art for children and adults can be found on our website:

Printed by “PNB Print” Ltd, Latvia

www.arcapublishers.ru

www.pnbprint.eu

For purchase and distribution enquiries call +7 (812) 495 70 89

or e-mail us at: sales@arcapublishers.ru


Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.