Documents the broad range of Russian Impressionism in lush colorplates & illuminating essays.

A completely revised and updated edition of Soviet Impressionism.

"Soviet art of the 1930s to 1980s is now considered the twentieth century's major realist school of painting. Yet, during its heyday, and thanks to the politics of the Cold War and the shortsightedness of western critics, the treasures of Soviet artists of the period remained hidden. Now art historians are turning the balance and addressing the presence of Soviet Impressionist paintings passing through the sale rooms of Europe and North America, and finding their way into museums in the West. These are testament to a powerful and vibrant school of art. Vern Swanson has given us a book which is not only illustrated with 176 colour plates, but also accompanied by an account of the tradition of painting for a proletarian society and how this developed into a full-blown form of Working-class Impressionism. The message was dictated by the policy-makers: the art should be readily understood and appreciated by the people, reflecting their hopes and aspirations for themselves and their efforts. The subject matter is the intimate life of the Soviet man, woman and child - at work in school, field, factory and mine, and at home and play."--BOOK JACKET.

The 1860s were marked by a strong realistic movement in Russian painting. Artists became interested in depicting the lives and customs of their fellow countryman. This new art form was mostly the work of the itinerants group, who wanted to take art to the people and paint the outdoors. Mikhail Guerman here traces the converging lines of Russian and French art in the immensely fertile period of the late 19th and early 20th century.

Antosha and Levitasha is the first book in English devoted to the complex relationship between Anton Chekhov and Isaac Levitan, one of Russia's greatest landscape painters. Outside of Russia, a general lack of familiarity with Levitan's life and art has undermined an appreciation of the cultural significance of his friendship with Chekhov. Serge Gregory's highly readable study attempts to fill that gap for Western readers by examining a friendship that may have vacillated between periods of affection and animosity, but always reflected an unwavering shared aesthetic. In Russia, where entire rooms of galleries in Moscow and St. Petersburg are devoted to Levitan's paintings, the lives of the famous writer and the equally famous artist have long been tied together. To those familiar with the work of both men, it is evident that Levitan's "landscapes of mood" have much in common with the way that Chekhov's characters perceive nature as a reflection of their emotional state. Gregory focuses on three overarching themes: the artists' similar approach to depicting landscape; their romantic and social rivalries within their circle of friends, which included many of Moscow's leading cultural figures; and the influence of Levitan's personal life on Chekhov's stories and plays. He emphasizes the facts of Levitan's life and his place in late nineteenth-century Russian art, particularly with respect to his dual loyalties to the competing Itinerant and World of Art movements. Accessible and engaging, Antosha and Levitasha will appeal to scholars and general readers interested in art history, late nineteenth-century Russian culture, and biographies.

From the author who bravely faced down a seven-headed, fire-breathing, riddle-speaking dragon... and got eaten for his pains. The realm of Russian fairy tales is perilous. You might think you know who’s friend, who’s foe. But you’d be wrong. Wolves might be friends. Old grandmothers might be cannibals. And the idiot might be the wisest man in the room. So say you find yourself at the waystone, a boundary between the real world and the world of story. Every road you take from the waystone leads to danger and the potential of great rewards. But you could end up being eaten, chopped into little pieces, or even turned into a goat. This book is a short guide for your survival. At the end, you’ll find the fountain of youth, riches unimaginable, the man or woman of your dreams…and maybe something even more lasting. But getting there is the real pleasure. Buy this book today to enter the weird and wonderful world of Russian fairy tales.

Among the “young peredvizhniki” who joined the World of Art group, the most brilliant portraitist was Valentin Serov. Like many of his contemporaries, he delighted in painting out of doors, and some of his most appealing portraits – such as Girl with Peaches, Girl in Sunlight and In Summer - owe their naturalness to their setting or to the interplay of sunlight and shadows. Indeed, Serov regarded them as “studies” rather than portraits, giving them descriptive titles that omitted the sitter's name. The subject of Girl with Peaches – painted when Serov was only twenty-two – was in fact Mamontov's daughter Vera. The model for In Summer was Serov's wife. When only six years old, Serov began to display signs of artistic talent. At nine years old, Repin acted as his teacher and mentor, giving him lessons in his studio in Paris, then let Serov work with him in Moscow, almost like an apprentice. Eventually Repin sent him to study with Pavel Chistiakov – the teacher of many of the World of Art painters, including Nesterov and Vrubel. Chistiakov was to become a close friend. Because Serov's career spanned such a long period, his style and subject matter vary considerably, ranging from voluptuous society portraits (the later ones notable for their grand style and sumptuous dresses) to sensitive studies of children. Utterly different from any of these is the famous nude study of the dancer Ida Rubinstein, in tempera and charcoal on canvas, which he painted towards the end of his life. Although Serov's early style has much in common with the French Impressionists, he did not become acquainted with their work until after he had painted pictures such as Girl with Peaches.

"The essays in this stimulating collection attest to the scope and variety of Russia's influence on British culture. They move from the early nineteenth century -- when Byron sent his hero Don Juan to meet Catherine the Great, and an English critic sought to come to terms with the challenge of Pushkin -- to a series of Russian-themed exhibitions at venues including the Crystal Palace and Earls Court. The collection looks at British encounters with Russian music, the absorption with Dostoevskii and Chekhov, and finishes by shedding light on Britain's engagement with Soviet film."--Back cover.