Academy Summer Residencies 2016: Russia

Our final dispatch from Russia comes from Sarah Hall MFA 2017.

It was an honor to be chosen for the Russia Residency and after being here for almost a month I am even more grateful for the opportunity. We have gone to many tourist destinations in Moscow and St. Petersburg that have blown us away in both the art and the beauty of the architecture and I would recommend the museums and cathedrals to anybody. But the honest uniqueness that I have experienced on this residency has been defined by the paths and places we didn’t expect to find ourselves.

In Moscow we stayed in a beautiful apartment with one of Russia's prominent architects. Andre Cheltsov comes from a long lineage of architects one of whom designed the Tretyekov Gallery. About 4 days into our trip his family took us to their country house to celebrate a birthday, a two hour train ride outside of Moscow. We stayed only a short time but the experience was well worth the travel. The cottage style house we stayed at was positioned on a hill surrounded by forest. From what I gathered, the house was built in a traditional Russian style, which is built so that large areas of the house could be opened up to the outside. An entire section of the house was completely open to the elements and this is where the gathering was held in honor of Andre’s 13 year old son’s birthday. It was an amazing experience to help gather and cook food in preparation of the party. Andre’s wife and mother of seven, had made the currant-flavored vodka that we were drinking all day long. Chopping and smoking and drinking and laughing on the Russian country side with about 15 other people all practicing their English, whilst learning a little Russian too was one of the more intimate experiences of my life.

Our week in Moscow ended and we traveled by night train to St. Petersburg. It took 9 hours in a sleeper cabin. The 4 of us and our luggage were crammed in a tiny room with 4 bunks and no window. Nikita shared a similar cabin with a family of 5. The first few days of St. Petersburg were spent drawing and taking in the environment around our beautiful apartment. It is five stories up looking down on a canal.

The street that our apartment was located on is lateral to one of the many canals that wind through St. Petersburg and the location is littered with cathedrals and old Russian architecture. The Hermitage Museum, which is a fifteen minute walk from our door step, is one of the best collections I have ever seen. I could spend days in the Rubens room alone. But the most impressive thing for me were the small mosaics located above the fire places that were scattered about the museum. At first glance they look like tiny paintings but once you get closer you realize that each stone which makes up the mosaic is no bigger than a millimeter.

Much of St. Petersburg’s beauty is interpreted by the magnificent museums and cathedrals but I would like to explain another more honest beauty, a beauty that would not be found in any tourist book. During my stay I was able to make several friends that were excited to show me this side of Russia and it was these experience that I will remember most fondly. This side of Russia I am referring to is the more humanistic side. The dingy Muslim alleyway with the best lamb kebabs in town or a bar that serve you plastic cups full of vodka and will throw you out if they know you're American. Experiences like hanging out with a bottle of wine on a roof top that overlooks the poorest part of town but it happens to be next to a canal that giant cruise liners go through to dock their ships. These short moments in time that create a feeling which can describe so much about an unknown culture and having honest people with you who can explain and translate this culture is an amazing and humbling experience. I will remember it forever and am excited to return. 

Academy Summer Residences 2016: Russia

Our third dispatch from Russia is from Alex Merritt MFA 2017, who describes his week-long experience painting a street mural in St. Petersburg. 

My time in Russia has been an experience which is hard to find words for. These two cities are filled with a long history that is amazing, beautiful, and tragic all at the same time. Some moments I will never forget will include staying in Dostoyevsky's neighborhood while reading The Idiot, drawing in the Rembrandt room at the Hermitage, and eating pelmeni and borscht in an old bar with a kalashnikov hanging over the kitchen door. Seven days away from leaving thanks to a series of chance occurrences including the wonderful Amina Kerimova visiting us for a day, and then herself running into some old friends, I was afforded the opportunity to paint a mural in Saint Petersburg. So here is what happened.

Day One
It is starting to rain and I have been painting for about seven hours now. It rains frequently here, which is a critical point I did not factor in when I began to paint this mural. Amazingly, spray paint actually still works in the rain here due to the fact that the humidity generally stays around 50 percent, even when it's pouring. When humidity starts hitting north of 60/70 percent spray paint tends to clot as it comes out of the nozzle, making it nearly impossible to work with. Still the rain is telling me it is time to step back and look at what is happening.

Wow, it is not good. It's not even bad. Actually it is outright terrible. At this point I suddenly become overly aware of my surroundings, like the man up on a tightrope who makes the mistake of looking down.

Down in the courtyard there are maybe fifteen to twenty guys standing around motorcycles looking up, at me. I cannot be sure, but the general reaction is clearly unimpressed. I even sense, at least in some, a touch of anger. I must get down from here, get home and regroup. When I bought the paint I wasn't thinking and my choices were bad. There was no cohesive strategy for how to deal with the space. I just jumped in, and tried to impose a poorly planned image on a rather gnarly wall -- and I failed.
As I walk home my thoughts frantically  jumped between somehow making this work, and never going back. 

Day 2
I wake up and decide to give it another shot. I make a run to the paint shop aka the graffiti market, and a local hardware store to get house paint, rollers, and some brushes. Now with proper materials, I am heading back to the Co-op Garage with a fresh batch of enthusiasm.

When I arrive I see that last night someone destroyed, or at least attempted to destroy the mural.They even took the trouble of smashing a few holes in it, and carving deep quarter inch gashes into the surface. I quickly discuss this new development with the owner who seems clearly upset by my being disrespected, and then I get back to it.

So here I am back up on the ledge, and I realize that maybe the universe is telling me something. Time to start over. I have less than four days left, so no time to dwell on things. I take a bucket of blue house paint and just start pouring it on the wall. Next I start drawing into it with a paint roller. Just as things get moving the sky turns dark, and it begins pouring.

Day 3
When I arrive, I instantly realize that this new direction I have taken is far better than the previous.  Also, I notice the owner is up on a scaffolding changing the sign over the parking lot. The new sign reads "When you have nothing left to burn, you must set yourself on fire." When he finishes, he looks up at me and gives a nod and a smile. After a cappuccino, and the best pancakes I have ever tasted, I get back to work.

Day 4
Things are moving fast. Quick trip to graffiti market, and the hardware store to pick up some more paint. I get to the wall and set up, then it starts pouring buckets.

I try to wait out the rain for about two hours. I start sketching out ideas for how I can really get this to where I want it. Finally, I give up and decide to head home, because it feels like the day is lost. I spend a few hours hanging our with Anders Fernbach back at home. At around 8:30 it stops raining and I head back.

Now I am losing daylight fast so I block in the second figure with a paint roller and a giant brush, and throw giant streaks across the entire composition to keep things moving.

Day 5
I get to the mural and start painting fast. The weather is nice at the moment, but I can feel it in my bones that rain is coming soon. I start thinking about how I can unite the composition as a whole, and get it to a place where I can live with it- because in less than two days I am flying out of Saint Petersburg to Amsterdam. I start working on correcting obvious problems and change the entire background completely. As the day is winding down it hits me like a ton of bricks, I've overworked it. Now the whole thing has busted flat. I walk home flipping through the pictures on my phone realizing that the entire composition has stopped moving and turned static. I need to get back asap and fix this.

Day 6
As soon as I arrive I start throwing paint from a bucket all over the wall, to just mess it up and create some action again. There is a large party happening down below, with groups riding in and on loud motorcycles that set off all the car alarms in the parking lot. About every ten minutes different people climb up to talk and pose for pictures with me. I have to keep focusing on the task, and not get sucked into the party that is looking more tempting with every passing minute. At about six o'clock it hits me -- the thing is done.

Of course, if I had 3 more weeks, I would not finish now. If I could I would try to make this place into my own Sistine Chapel. But that's never how it works. If I have learned anything, it is that in a situation like this if you can leave something in a place where you are happy with it, that is a huge success. When I came to Russia my main goal was to see as much art as I could, and do a lot of drawing. The idea of painting and leaving behind a mural never entered my mind for a second (OK, maybe a second) but I brushed it off as wild fantasy. Yet somehow, mostly by dumb luck it happened. And this mural that began as a complete disaster, became one of the best experiences of my life.

Academy Summer Residencies 2016: Russia

Our second dispatch from Russia comes from Anders Fernbach MFA 2017

Our adventure began on July 16th at JFK International Airport.  We met at gate 7 set to depart for Moscow, Russia at 2:20 pm (NY time).  We would arrive in Moscow at 6am local time.   Upon boarding the plane, there was a clear shift from what we were normally accustomed to.  We weren’t in Russian yet, but Aeroflot is a Russian airline with Russian staff, and it seemed that most passengers were people returning to family in Russia, and we Americans were clearly the minority already.  All announcements from the captain were in Russian first, and then English.  I was happy to have known how to say “thank you” in Russian.  Through the rest of the of the trip, my saying “spaciba” was met with a giggle, and an appreciative “pajalsta” (you’re welcome).  

Upon our arrival in Moscow, we were greeted by our hosts, Nikita and Nikolai, who called us a cab, and brought us to our new home.  We stayed with the Cheltsov family, a very warm, welcoming family with 7 children, one of whom is a student of architecture, following in the family tradition of 3 generations of well-respected architects.  The house itself was a mixture of modern and old world.  Steel doors and marble stairs, countertops, combined with heated bathroom floors, playstation games, and iPads.  Every little detail was built to last, and from the looks of it, it has lasted a very very long time indeed. 

Nikita, our excellent host, seemed to have a key to the city.  We visited some must-see tourist destinations of course, but he also had access to many closed off areas of the city.  We were privileged to be on several rooftops of buildings, providing spectacular panoramic views of the city, and alcoves in buildings with hidden gems of Russian history.  While on one rooftop, I took a picture with my iPhone, and as I was posting it on Facebook, the location said “Patriarch’s Ponds”.  Below us, there was a rectangular-shaped body of water by that name.  I immediately recognized the name from the opening scene in  Bulgakov's famous novel The Master and Margarita.  

Both Moscow and St.Petersburg architecture are combinations of over-the-top opulence, and war-torn abandoned buildings. The history here is both rich and scarred, reflected in their surroundings.  

In Moscow, we visited the Space Museum, which was a display of the Soviet victory in being the first nation to send a man into outer space.  It was quite an insight for me to experience this from a Russian viewpoint, as my previous exposure was from an American view during the Cold War era, when I was growing up.  On view were the original Sputnik, a vessel meant to house a dog for space travel, a few claustrophobic vessels for astronauts, and a video documenting their preparation for this extraordinary journey.  I have no genetic ties to Russia, so I was surprised to have felt pride in viewing these artifacts of human achievement.  Then I realized it wasn’t Russian pride I was feeling, but rather a human pride.  There is evidence of great human achievement throughout the fabric of both of these great cities.  
The metro stations in Moscow are mind-blowing in their scale, beauty, and efficiency.  Each station is unique, enormous, and beautifully decorative.  

As a painter, I have been thrilled to see first hand works by artists ranging from Rembrandt to Jenny Saville, Titian to Cecily Brown, and Malevich to Monet.  As far away from home as we are, it has been interesting to note the dates of works created here in Russia, and their relationship to art of similar time periods in the rest of Europe.  Somehow, it makes the art world seem smaller, as our heroes are the same.  Even the icon paintings of Russia, and the frescoes in the cathedrals seem to exhibit a distinctly Italian influence.  

I am certain that this experience will take a long time for me to digest, and understanding a nation’s history and culture cannot be fully appreciated in such a short time.  All the same, I feel my horizons have been expanded for having even a limited exposure to such a culture as diverse from my own.  

Academy Summer Residencies 2016: Russia

Our first dispatch from Russia comes from Allison Hill-Edgar MFA 2017

The icons. The light. The people. The food. The architecture. The history.  I find that every day I have a new obsession. Today it is the sound of the canal and the cool light on the pink and ochre buildings just outside our window; Monday it was the bursting fruit at the farmstand just over the footbridge -- actually, it was our greeting to St. Petersburg by the “district alcoholic” whose joie de vivre sent him leaping off the footbridge into the murky canal, fully attired in his clothes, combat boots, ruddy cheeks and infectious smile. His friends, and we, were so happy when he reached the stone steps back to land. He has since reappeared out our window to sing us to sleep at night.

It is difficult to believe we have only been in Russia just over a week. We have seen, done, and tasted so much, it feels as if we have been immersed in this culture much longer.  Our first week was spent in Moscow – a week that I will remember for its intensity and vibrancy. Every day we traversed the city and absorbed as much as we could, visiting as many museums, churches, monuments, metro stations, parks, and abandoned buildings as our feet could handle. These excursions were peppered with adventure, such as climbing onto a rooftop so we could end our long day with an unimpeded panorama of the Moscow skyline and vertiginous view of Patriarch’s Pond, or following our guide, Nikita, into a restricted area of the Kremlin, so he could catch a Pokémon. At times, it felt like the most dangerous adventure was the check-out line at the “grumpy grocery” on the corner.  We survived and are stronger for it. 

Particular Muscovian highlights for me were visiting the two State Tretyakov Galleries, in which we were able to see Russian art treasures spanning the early 12^th century to the present.  In the first gallery, which highlights Russian art before the 20^th century, we were able to take in a full array of Russian art history – their gorgeous, elaborate icons, history paintings, portraits, myths and heroes. Although European influence was often evident, I was constantly enthralled by the particular Russian flair for story telling, expression, and personality.

In the New Tretyakov Gallery and surrounding sculpture gardens, we saw a vast range of 20^th-century Russian art -- the early 20^th-century works being my favorite period both aesthetically and conceptually. Each immense room offered a new, mind-blowing experience of color, form, and experimentation. On a personal level, I was particularly fascinated by a room full of early Chagall paintings that I had never seen before. These paintings revealed that the themes, colors, and forms characteristic of his later works were ever-present in his early work, even as he experimented with the prevailing aesthetic and formal approaches of the time. Just when I thought I couldn’t be further inspired, I turned the corner and… Malevich!  It was then that I realized I had only seen a fraction of the museum – ahead of me, the Lenin years… the Stalin years…! I persevered but I clearly need to go back.

                  

Perhaps one of the greatest experiences for me in Moscow was getting to know the family we stayed with while there. Not only did this give us a view into daily family life in Moscow and access to their opinions on Russia and the larger world, but also it gave us the opportunity to meet a truly extraordinary group of people. I was inspired by how warm, open, worldly, informed, and inclusive they were.  Given that they have seven children, there was constant activity and conversation in all corners of their apartment. Everyday new faces appeared around the table or in the little courtyard outside; we met some people who had never left Moscow, and others who were getting their PhDs in mathematics from Yale. There was never a shortage of interesting conversation or food, and there was always a massive pile of dirty dishes and empty bottles.

Towards the end of our week in Moscow, the family invited us to their country house in Tarusa – a 13^th-century village that has been the site of many historical events and movements, including being a home for famous dissidents during the Soviet era.  Out of the city, we were able to relax and get to know the family and their broad group of friends. Much of the day was spent gathered around the dining table, helping chop food for the next meal, talking, eating, and drinking coffee, wine or vodka – or all three in no particular order. At any moment, several other people would stop by to say hello or eat, and often would end up staying the night – flexible sleeping habits, whether on a couch or in a corner, were essential. As one visiting man told me over his hot, delicious pumpkin soup, “large families are magic.” When not gathered around the table, the family took us around town to introduce us to their friends, many of whom are artists. We met a woman who paints vibrant floral scenes and portraits and who is the daughter of two famous artists of the Soviet era (one of her mother’s posters shown below). We met a performance artist and his circle of friends, who shared not only their whiskey, but also hilarious stories of living in Tarusa and rebuilding houses. We visited a foundation that supports a famous mosaic artist and hosts contemporary art exhibits, concerts, and workshops. We took a walk along the river, saw old churches nestled in ravines, and picked flowers and vegetables from small gardens. Indeed, it was magic.

Now here we are in St. Petersburg. The Hermitage awaits us. As I gather my strength to take it on, I am overwhelmed with gratitude to the Academy for giving us this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Not only are we seeing incredible art, architecture, landscapes, and treasures, but also we are meeting incredible people and absorbing their world. This experience has provided me a chance to put aside the routines, habits, and responsibilities of daily life in New York, and immerse myself in a period of freedom, inspiration, reflection, and experimentation. In the moments I have between adventures in the city, I am trying to explore new color combinations and paint application techniques through what I’m calling my daily “Rorschach tests” – small, quick self-portraits that I fold on themselves, blot, and rework, layer upon layer. The process of painting, obliteration, reflection, and reanalysis has allowed me to process much of the visual stimuli and inspiration around me. I am encouraged by Chagall – that through exposure and experimentation, one’s themes, colors, and forms will alter and mature, leading to a richer expression of one’s vision.