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Leningrad’s Photo-Postscriptum: Towards a Historical Reinscription of a Provincial Avant-garde

 

The 1995/1996 Winter issue of the magazine IMAGO - Another European Photography published in Bratislava, included an essay by the photo-association Photo-Postscriptum, a new creative alliance in the former Russian capital, St. Petersburg. Under the title "St. Petersburg Photo-Postscriptum: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow," the author and founding member Dmitry Vilensky posed an unsettling but fundamental question: could there be such a thing as a post Cold war avant-garde emerging in a city which had reached "a state of unique provinciality?"(1) 

Indeed, St. Petersburg (the name given to the city from Vladimir Lenin's death in 1924 to the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991) had once been the urban milieu from which some of the most sophisticated art was launched. A central stage of revolution in 1905 and again in 1917, the city was then at the focus of events that changed not only the map of Europe but also the cultural and ideological map of the world. During Sergei Diaghilev's Paris theater seasons Les Ballets Russes and after the Bolshevik Revolution, the nexus of avant-garde artists, most notably representatives of the Suprematists, Constructivists and Productivists taught at the Institute for Artistic Culture or GINKhUK(2) and produced an engaged art that, on the background of intense socio-political transformations at the beginning of the 20th century, dramatically changed the way people traditionally understood the artistic process.(3) The mid to late 1920s and 1930s saw the rise of so-called "Heroic Realism" and the Soviet government's increasing control over artistic production, culminating in the 1934 announcement Socialist Realism as the official style of Soviet art. Following Joseph Stalin's death in 1953, the monolith of official culture began to erode, while artists began to explore means of expression and subjects banned during the Stalin era.(4)

In the aftermath of the Soviet Union's dissolution in 1991, St. Petersburg's contemporary artistic scene was "not to be seen through the existence of an active art market or the overburdening of the artistic world." The city lacked a cultural infrastructure that was characteristic of modern urban centres in the West and there was "relative lack of opportunity to carry through artistic projects quickly from idea to realisation." (5) Moreover, as John Jacob observed about Soviet photography: "it has been the artists who adhere to the aesthetic of photojournalism and the bankrupt tradition of realism, rather than those allied to the experiments of "unofficial" culture, who have received almost exclusive attention in the West." (6) Furthermore, he argues that audiences' faith in relation to so-called photographic "objectivity" depicted by the news media encouraged their "faith in the superiority of the United States' melting pot, post industrial culture and the European Economic Community (EEC) over the revival of village/ clan traditions, and the religious and nationalist disputes that have reemerged in Soviet Russia in the wake of glasnost."(7) There is an urgency to contribute both to the field of Soviet Non-Conformist Art wherein photography and photo-related art remain secondary to painting, as well as to intervene in dominant histories of photography, in which the photographic medium has been used as Jacob claimed: "to construct a self/other opposition, representing the USSR as a mythical or "folk" culture in contrast to which our own progress may be more clearly viewed."(8)

Photo-Postscriptum was an association of photographers (active since 1980), who in 1993 opened an eponymous exhibition space for artistic photography in Vilensky's studio (Photo-Postscriptum Place) and launched a series of publications that were uniquely dedicated to promoting and reformulating photography in an art scene and a society which had underwent dramatic changes(9) up until the Soviet Union ceased to exist in 1991. While the historical avant-garde in Russia jettisoned the pre-Bolshevik society with abandon and devoted themselves to the affirmation of a new, proletarian-revolutionary understanding of art, life and politics, this group of so-called non-conformist photographers who came to maturity during Gorbachev's perestroika, were instead more intently focused on repressed and unknown experiences that had been denied to them. They were a small group ahead of the main social body who sought to reconnect with their social realities and history by creating a new poetic-photographic language.This view of a post-Soviet contemporaneity was constituted by doubt, uncertainty and hesitation yet infused with a need to reflect and analyze the recent past through the medium of photography, with a desire to transcend national borders. These photographers not only collaborated with each other, but also with their peers from Moscow and the former Soviet republics, whom they invited to show their work in Leningrad.

Vilensky's theorizing of their practices ultimately implied never reaching contemporaneity - a quality supported economically by the new finance capital after the Cold War: from St. Petersburg to Moscow to Paris to New York, it always resided somewhere else. He confessed that on his first trip to the USA in the spring of 1991, he regarded Russia as "a photographic desert and headed for American as a pilgrim; America for me was the photographic Mecca..."(10) Once there, he came upon contemporary exhibitions of Russian photographers that shed "comprehensive light on the photographic scene in the Soviet Union" and were "accompanied by beautifully-produced catalogues in which attempts were made to put Soviet photography in a historical context." He also noted "the purely Western way in which the exhibition projects were presented - that was completely new to us."(11) For Vilensky, contemporaneity was not only a utopia but a condition of material and economic progress in the "postmodernist market-oriented situation" as the law of capitalistic development that governed a new constellation of power and resource distribution after the Cold War: "the majority of Russian photographers [...] found themselves unprepared and once more beyond the limits of this rigidly structured territory of contemporary art."(12)

A focus on so-called provincial avant-garde and several of its main proponents challenge some of the central assumptions that fuel the concept of an "avant-garde" as it is presently constructed in art historical criticism, which presents cultural life as fully experienced only in centers of economic, technological and political power. From this perspective, the more distant a society is from the centers of capitalist development, the less contemporary and therefore avant-garde it remains. If only so-called "advanced" economies can claim to belong to a historical present, to the contemporary, then provincial cultures are thought to remain in the negatively coded process of catching up with history. In the following examples rather, these returns to history and memory are far more complicated, and even more compulsive-especially when they appear at the end of the century as the beginnings of revolutions simultaneously becoming undone.

In the Soviet Union, photography was not officially given the same consideration as art forms like painting or sculpture. In the book "Leningradsky Photounderground," Valery Valran describes how photography was not included in official art education — or viewed as art at all — but treated instead as an important ideological weapon. Hence, it was prohibited during the Soviet era to photograph religious ceremonies, nudes, even "scruffy backyards and scrap-heaps, drunkards and beggars, people queuing for rarely sold products and squalid everyday life in general."(13)

The mid-1980s in Leningrad brought the policies of perestroika and glasnost promoted by Mikhail Gorbachev, the Soviet Union's last chief of state. Groups of non-conformist photographers had already been practicing their own version of perestroika, challenging what Soviet art could be and rebelling against official educational institutions. Despite the fact that photography was a fruitful medium, the mid1980s artistic scene in St. Petersburg was still a restrictive environment: unofficial photography associations and photo-clubs worked in cultural youth palaces – which were still controlled according to guidelines laid down by official publications.(14)

Despite lingering state-censorship, perestroika-era Leningrad nonconformist photographers made exceedingly canny and inventive use of the medium. They succeeded in upending the photographic norms and standards established by the authorities, while expressing ideas that were both culturally specific and universal. Among the critical issues espoused by non-conformist photographers associated with Photo-Postcriptum was addressing the role of photography in the construction of a history that needed to be rehabilitating. Related to this, in the late 1980s and 1990s, some photographers began to incorporate historical, anonymous, and found photographs into their work. Such materials usually came from family collections, estates, journals, secondhand bookshops, or archives, and were amassed by photographers as part of their creative arsenal.(15) As Barbara Straka noted about this practice, "the use of private and documentary photo archives would have fallen into a variety of tabu zones, and at the same time, photography as art in and of itself, was not taken seriously."(16)

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Ludmila Fedorenko, Untitled series, 1989, silver gelatin prints, Norton and Nancy Dodge Collection of Nonconformist Art from the Soviet Union

Amateur photographs not considered art in and of themselves formed the basis for a rich repertoire of images utilised by Ludmila Fedorenko. Through use of informal, haphazardly accumulated materials, she challenged the norms of Socialist Realism, with its staged monumentality of reality and the past. Fedorenko also ruptured the conventions of official Soviet documentary photography by re-presenting photographs found near her home in a trash bin, their glass shattered and the photographs themselves slipping out of their frames. The overlapping and broken photos from her 1989 series(17) are re-photographed images from the 1940s and early 1950s, evoking the Stalin epoch, still a painful subject fraught with memories of political repression in Russia. These experiences, suppressed throughout much of the Soviet era, were addressed more openly during perestroika. In one photograph from the series, the original framed photographs belonged the 1950s: it depicts a group of runners passing the Alexander Column in Leningrad, overlooked by monumental banners of Party functionaries. The dynamism of the runners is directly juxtaposed with the immobility of the officials, while both groups are frozen inside the photograph, signaling the artists' play with temporal categories. Conjuring the lives of the artist's parents and grandparents, these photographs express not nostalgia, but the difficulties in bridging the gulf between that era and Fedorenko's own time. She sought to capture not the forms of objects, peoples and architecture, but the traces of time through them. The photographer intensified the aged finished of the photograph, adding a grainy finish achieved through manipulating photo-chemicals. This technique echoes the primacy of faktography for the Russian avant-garde constructivists, referring to the material aspects of the surface of an art object, which according to them, had to demonstrate how it had been made. Fedorenko's photographs reveal the surface of the prints to be constructed, by drawing attention to their being re-photographed from a different angle than the originals, and also by using photo-chemicals deliberately to age and distort the representation. Embedding the decay of the past into her present, Fedorenko also questioned the association of memories with images and raised issues related to the discarded, the unnoticed, and the forbidden.

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Andrey Chezhin, Album for Thumbtacks (1955-1985) Series, 1994, toned silver gelatin prints, Norton and Nancy Dodge Collection for Nonconformist Art from the Soviet Union

Another photographer who exhibited at Photo-Postscriptum, Andrey Chezhin, was a graduate of the Leningrad Institute of Film Engineers, where he worked as a photographer and co-founded the influential photography group Zerkalo (Mirror) in 1985. Between 1987 and 1996 he worked with the TAK (SO) group, which also included the photographers Yuri Mateev and Dmitry Shneerson. The photographers approached art from a determined conceptual position producing idiosyncratic, personal work augmented by their incisive attention to social issues. In his series "Album for Thumbtacks," Chezhin manipulated old photographs from circa 1955 to 1985, toning the prints and replacing the facial features in the portraits with thumbtacks, to a surreal and disturbing effect.(18) Combining black humor and the absurd, this strategy became a signature conceptual feature in Chezhin's oeuvre, marked by formal and conceptual innovations that mirror more distinctly what was happening in Europe and the United States. Reminiscent of the work of John Baldessari and David Wojnarowicz, he also alluded to the practice of excising discredited individuals from official Soviet photographs. In The Commissar Vanishes, David King discusses this soviet brad of damnation memoriae, giving as example the personal photographic album of Chezhin's predecessor Aleksandr Rodchenko, who had defaced several photos of purged officials during the 1930s, in order to avoid arrest and possible imprisonment.(19) Chezhin's constructed archive of defaced peoples rings an awareness of all stages in the recent Soviet past, including those of the previous avant-garde to his own work. His photographic portraits use stylistic elements and subjects prevalent in the early 20th century, yet they also employ a new sense of irony and distance, enhancing awareness of the reservoir of images that governed Soviet reality since then.

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Alexey Titarenko, Untitled from "Nomenclature of Sings" series, 1987, photo-collage, Norton and Nancy Dodge Collection of Nonconformist Art from the Soviet Union

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Alexey Titarenko, "Nomenclature of Signs" Series, 1986-1991, curtesy of the artist

Alexey Titarenko, who has also been active in the photography groups Zerkalo and Ligovka, confronted the secrecy and repression of cultural affect in photo-collages that demonstrated his criticality of politics and his audacious willingness to visualize and verbalize social and cultural hypocrisy. In "Nomenclature of Signs,"(20) he manipulated quintessential signs and symbols associated with Soviet myths, creating a metaphorical inventory of Leningrad's urban landscape. The title referred to the ruling Party elite in the Soviet Union, or nomenklatura, who enjoyed particular privileges unavailable to ordinary people.(21) The series consists of collages produced by the overlapping of various negatives, official photographs, personal shots, and found materials, including cloth and cardboard. These materials were culled from everyday objects and spaces in Leningrad. The uses of montaged Soviet insignia and architectural details demonstrate a keen knowledge of semiotics and poststructuralist philosophy. At the same time, the artists challenge and reject their monumental nature, while the decay of every-day life is presented openly, instead of suppressed, for ideological reasons.

In Titarenko's series, what at first appears as a deconstruction of Socialist Realist principles leads to a realist depiction of Soviet society. Departing from the dictum that every photograph has to convey a clear, ideological message over formal experimentation, Titarenko precisely focuses on graphic forms: red, white, grey and black circles, triangles and squares, made up of photographs, newspaper clippings and cloth. This newly rediscovered, seemingly playful depiction, recalls the early avant-garde Soviet photography similarly interested in the contours of the body or geometric industrial structures, as well as a recurring interest in faktura by revealing tensions in the construction of layers of collage elements. At the same time, Titarenko's work clearly suggests that by the time the Soviet Union dissolved in 1991, these once-potent symbols, such as the hammer and the sickle or heroic sculptures of workers, had lost their original meanings. Titarenko presents them as symbols exhausted by time, abandoned to deterioration.

In 1991 Titarenko added a short story as a conclusion to the series, also entitled "Nomenclature of Signs" which constituted the creator of this archive of signs as a rhetorical character, one who the reader could encounter through narrative and become a witness to his everyday life and his states of mind during the shooting of the photographs. Titarenko's essay sheds light on the artists perception of late Soviet reality as a series of ready-made objects produced by a single mythological creator, fallen in decay: "The past period in history gave birth to a mythological likeness amongst shop signs, shops, workshops, offices, banyas, canteens, slogans on buildings, sculptures in parks, monumental painting and many other things. Having long lost any connection with reality they were transformed into pointless visual signs, they were the embodiments of the titanic work of one omnipresent, many handed, universal artist-sculptor-writer-aphorist."(22)

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Dmitry Vilensky, "Red City" series (1986-1990), 1992, toned silver gelatin prints, curtesy of the artist 

For Vilensky photography was more than a technique or a medium, but an existential act, one that from the very beginning "was perceived as the result of mystical process," and through which their group wanted to "return to the mysteriousness of photography" by "a conscious poeticization of the chemical process" which "can be a means to spiritual and psychological revelation."(23) At the same time this photographic poeticization retained a strong social base as it allowed a different visual language to be formed through what Bakhtin referred to as a "heteroglossia" of voices, which could speak their own dialects in opposition to the uniform language of power imposed from above. These photographers did not necessarily speak for the oppressed, rather their photographic narratives revealed the struggle between the lived, actual realities of a multiplicity of voices and the monolithic voice of external authority. Since 1980, Vilensky began to build a photographic archive, which would become the object of subsequent investigations and installations.

In his "Red City" series, Vilensky chose to work with images of Leningrad's street life taken from 1986 to 1990.(24) He toned the prints using shades, from pale rose to red-brown to pinkish-red. The toning, compositional angles and close-ups from behind are reminiscent of his predecessors Rodchenko and Boris Ignatovich, who also made skillful use of light, shadows and tone to draw out the character of their subjects. At the same time, Vilensky's characters do not show the optimism of a new society, or glean upon the future liberation through industry and the soviets' power. Rather they are impoverished locals walking through a decaying city, trying to make ends meet selling wares in the street, children playing in desolate industrial settings or in empty and narrow courtyards. Through his eyes we can see the changing city, the streets, buildings, factories, tram depots and open spaces. In this series an image of the romantic and tragic Peterburgian character is documented, witnessed and constructed through the deftly use of light, color and dramatic backgrounds.

The artist referred to this series as following the tradition of romantic urban photography; the photographs are also a social commentary on the living conditions of the time, and the realities of a society on the edge of despair as a result of drastic economic changes and shortages of basic services and goods. Altogether, they are suggestive of the absurdity and contradictions inherent in public spaces of the times, while the use of tones and tints queer the monotonous photographs of every-day life in a deferential way, unsettling official artifices and fixed utopian aspects.

The issues raised through photographic practices in these examples relate to the problem of how the official Soviet culture could no longer contain experiences, memories and history inside it simultaneously. In the 1920s avant-garde photographers rebelled against “the traditional way of seeing”, exploring “a new aesthetics able to express in photography the pathos of [their] new socialist reality,” or a new consciousness.(25) Unlike their avant-garde predecessors, this generation of Perestroika photographers did not express great faith in the new dynamics of society, rather they conveyed disillusionment, and challenged the official order–driven not by optimism but by an urgency to reveal repressed or falsified aspects of their reality, and finding artistic ways to contend with their ever-changing world.

In this landscape, Photo-Postscriptum advanced an agenda of innovation and professionalism in the field, self-organizing displays of their work, and formulating theories to describe their creative process while producing striking images of Leningrad, its inhabitants, and surroundings. Although not united by a common style, these projects continued to exist in sharp contrast to the state-prescribed, idealized photographs found in official posters, almanacs, and artists’ union exhibitions. Photo-Postscriptum Place created its identity as a space for non-commercial exhibitions of work by various Soviet photographers, which took the form of individual shows, portfolio editions, and slide presentations. According to its founders, the alliance sought to support “photographers who preserve the spontaneity of personal contact with reality and who deal with questions of the realization of photography’s inner potential—which has still not been fully studied—as an original creative act, which results in the production of works with a particular photographic aura.”(26) Exhibitions held in this space were accompanied by bilingual Russian-English brochures, which included interviews with members of the group and other Soviet photographers, artist statements, and theoretical essays. Key documents of the unofficial Leningrad photographic community from that period, the brochures detail these artists’ collaborations and conflicts, as well as their connections to artists outside of the city and the Soviet Union.  

In 1994, Vilensky was invited to curate a major exhibition of contemporary Leningrad photography in the Marble Palace at the Russian Museum, also entitled “Photo-Postscriptum”. The show included unofficial photographers from different generations that shaped what would come to be called the St. Petersburg School of Photography, among them Andrey Chezhin and Grupa TAK, Ludmila Fedorenko, Alexander Kitaev, Alexey Titarenko, and Vilensky.  One could interpret this moment as a retreat into the official institution – mirroring the fate of their avant-garde predecessors who, after they had sought to dynamite the academy had retreated into academic institutions. However, the post-Perestroika history of St. Petersburg presented a different context and different challenges than the compartmentalization of culture post-Bolshevik revolution, when avant-garde artists retreated from the streets and into closed premises.(27) The Photo-Postiscriptum survey exhibition was a singular event, which would not be part of a larger trend to institutionalize non-conformist photography in the city.

At the same time, Photo-Postscriptum photographers started to further broaden their horizons by travelling and exhibiting abroad. From this point on in the 1990s, their work continued to take a more conceptual approach to the medium, while retaining a specific Leningrad character. Namely, even as they became more aware of cultural postmodernism in the West, where the photographic image was related to manipulation of reality and construction of social and political identities, for these artists, the photograph still held an inexorable tie to the real, as proof of a presence, or an indelible truth. As Vilensky observed: “[…] photography almost everywhere exists in the form of replica or simulacra of reality. This simulacra is always ready for intellectual manipulations of different kinds. However, not everyone is inclined to accept such a situation. I believe in the presence of another latent reality behind the reality given to us via sensation and the mass media.” Remaining sceptical of the “endless stream of media images” under consumer capitalism, as he experienced it during the times he taught and lived in New York in the early 1990s, Vilensky continued to pursue his own investments of the real behind the media or official representations. Maintaining his credo about “the possibility of dramatic transformation of any event,” his later work investigated the possibility of “translation of our political experiences into cultural, and backwards.’”(28) 

Future research should be dedicated to closely analyzing the creation of exhibition spaces and collective exhibiting practices post-perestroika in St. Petersrburg. Although the early stages of their practice have not been historicized until now, several of these photographers redefined the artistic culture of the city and are considered among the most influential artists of their generation. A continued examination of the legacies of their avant-garde practice from the provinces in the Post-Soviet period is needed, as it is one that witnessed both the aftershock of the crumbling of the Soviet Union and the emergence of market-oriented capitalism, in dialogue with both socio-political and artistic discourses of this period.

 

This text was written as a result of research undertaken by the author while curating the exhibition "Leningrad's Perestroika: Crosscurrents in Photography, Video and Music," which opened at the Zimmerli Art Museum in April 2013.  

 

Endnotes

1) Dmitry Vilensky, St. Petersburg Photopostscriptum Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, IMAGO - Another Eropska Photography, Winter 95/96, pg. 22.

2) GINKhUK (The Institute for Artistic Culture) and the Museum of Artistic Culture in St. Petersburg( then Petrograd) was run by landmark figures in the art world such as Vladimir Tatlin and Nikolay Punin. It was also Malevich’s base during NEP (The New Economic Policy), where he and his students continued their pioneering work on color and perception that they began at the more utopian Suprematist organization UNOVIS in Vitebsk. 

3) See Katerina Clark, Petersburg the Crucible of Cultural Revolution, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1995). In this book, Clark looks at one of the most creative and dramatic periods of Russian culture during the period between 1913 and 1931. Clark focuses on the negotiations between the extraordinary environment of the revolution, the utopian striving of politicians and intellectuals, the local cultural system, and the broader context of European and American culture. Her analysis of cultural revolution is viewed through the prism of Petersburg, then one of the cultural capitals of Europe.

4) See Diane Neumaier, Beyond Memory: Soviet Nonconformist Photography, Zimmerli Art Museum, 2004. This catalogue which accompanied an eponymous exhibition at the Zimmerli Art Museum is one of the first landmark pubications to examine the medium's role in the history of Nonconformist Art from the Soviet Union. Beyond Memory showed how innovative conceptual strategies and approaches to form and content were widespread in the Soviet cultural underground. The publication analyzes how late Soviet artists employed irony and invention to make positive use of adverse circumstances.

5) Dmitry Vilensky, St. Petersburg Photopostscriptum Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, IMAGO - Another Eropska Photography, Winter 95/96, pg. 22.

6) John Jacob, "The Crisis in Identification in Soviet Photography, "The Missing Picture: Alternative contemporary photography from the Soviet Union, Cambridge, MA: MIT List Visual Arts Center, 1990, pg. XXII.

7) Ibid 6.

8) Ibid 6.

9) Dmitry Vilensky archives Berlin: Dmitry Vilensky, P.S. Photo-Postscriptum Place Press Release, unpaginated, accessed July 2013

10) Dmitry Vilensky, "St. Petersburg Photopostscriptum Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow,"IMAGO - Another Eropska Photography, Winter 95/96, pg. 19.

11) Ibid 10, pg. 20.

12) Ibid 10, pg. 20.

13) Valery Valran, Leningradsky Photounderground, (St. Petersburg, Palace Editions, 2007), pg. 78.

14) Interview with photographer Dmitry Konradt in St. Petersburg, April 16th, 2013.

15) For more information about Fedorenko's methods and use of found photographs see the catalogue "Photo-Reclamation New Art from Moscow and Saint Petersburg,"John Hansard Gallery, 1994-1995. 

16) Barbara Straka, In Memory of...Personal and Artistic Practice with Found Photography, Self-Identification, Positions in St. Petersburg Art from 1970 to today, (Berlin: DruckVogt GmbH, 1994), pg. 242.

17) Ludmila Fedorenko, The Time When I Was Not Borh (late 1980s-early 1990s), Norton and Nancy Dodge Collection of Nonconformist Art from the Soviet Union.

18) Andrey Chezhin, Album for Thumbtacks, 1955-1985, Norton and Nancy Dodge Collection of Nonconformist Art from the Soviet Union.

19) See David King, The Commissar Vanishes, New York: Metropolitan Books, 1997.

20) "Nomenclature of Signs" was first shown at Ligovka 99 in 1991. The series was then shown at the Russian Museum as part of the "Photo-Postscriptum" exhibition curated by Vilensky.

21) Alexey Titarenko in conversation with the author, Zimmerli Art Museum in New Brunswick, January 26th, 2013.

22) Alexey Titarenko, "Nomeclature of Signs," republished in the catalogue of the exhibition Photo-Postscriptum, St.Petersburg: Russian Museum, unpaginated.

23) Dmitry Vilensky Acrhives: Notebook with Vilensky's essays, labeled Photo-Archeology, c. 1999, unpaginated.

24) Dmitry Vilensky, Red City Series, 1986-1992, Norton and Nancy Dodge Collection of Nonconformist Art from the Soviet Union.

25) Aleksandr Rodchenko, "Predosterezheniye"(Warning), Novyi Lef, No. II, 1928, pg. 37.

26) Dmitry Vilensky archives Berlin: Dmitry Vilensky, P.S. Photo-Postscriptum Place Press Release, unpaginated, accessed July 2013.

27) Katerina Clark,"NEP and the Art of Capitulation," in Petersburg the Crucible of Cultural Revolution, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1995).

28) Dmitry Vilensky archives Berlin: Dmitry Vilensky, Untitled Notebook, unpaginated, late 1990s, accessed July 2013.

Corina L. Apostol
Author: Corina L. ApostolWebsite: http://rci-rutgers.academia.edu/CorinaApostol Country: Romania
Corina Apostol (B.A., Duke University, M.A. Rutgers University) is a Ph.D candidate in Art History at Rutgers University - New Brunswick, with a focus on modern and contemporary art from Eastern Europe and Russia. She holds a Dodge Fellowship, working as a curatorial assistant for the Dodge Collection of Nonconformist Art from the Soviet Union at the Zimmerli Museum. She is the co-founder of Art Leaks, an organization which fights for artists rights in the workforce, and co-editor of the ArtLeaks Gazette. Corina contributes to The Long April. Texts About Art, IDEA Arts+Society and Arta.

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