The exhibition of photographs and drawings by the architect Maxim Atayants occupies the enfilade of the Talyzins' house and even penetrates the stairs, where plaster copies of fragments of the Parthenon frieze, donated after one of the previous exhibitions, are now adjacent to the "portraits" of marble Medusas of the Septimius Sever Forum in Leptis Magna (North Africa). The marble in the photographs is so realistic, and the heads are so expressive that one really wants them, like the reliefs, to remain here after the exhibition - the effect is so holistic.
I must say that the architectural photographs of Maxim Atayants are a material that is very appropriate in the interiors of the suite. Not because it hangs well, it is difficult to make a brilliant hanging in the suite, but because antique capitals, cornices and entablatures resonate with the classicist Corinthian columns, stucco and plafonds of the Talyzin palace. The architecture of the late 18th - early 19th centuries, when this palace was built, is characterized by special attention to antiquity. Then they studied antiquity, and students, having graduated from an educational institution with a degree in architecture, went on a "retirement trip" - to look at antiques and draw them from nature.
The experience of Maxim Atayants resembles just such a trip, with a number of differences. It is not a student who goes on a journey, but a mature and famous architect; he goes on his own, on his own initiative and at his own expense, and then on his own initiative makes an exhibition, publishes a massive and detailed catalog, writes articles with memoirs and impressions for the Project Classic magazine. Therefore, the exhibition provokes to understand it as a deliberate attempt to revive such a phenomenon as an architect's trip for antiques.
It even seems a little stylized as a report of such a trip - primarily because it begins with the architect's drawings - the first hall is dedicated to them, and this was probably done intentionally, in order to demonstrate to the viewer who climbed the stairs and saw the formidable faces of the marble Gorgons, that in front of him - not just a photo exhibition, or rather, not only it.
The drawings are very beautiful, delicate and skillful. They are made in sepia-like brown ink with a brush wash that makes them look like watercolors. Some of the painted monuments can then be recognized in photographs. All images are detailed, but emphatically unfinished, and all are covered with inscriptions made over them - fluent, but neat, laid in even lines. And finally - all of them are made on very good paper with a rough embossed texture, uneven edges (as it should be for a high-quality torchon) and watermarks. Looking at such luxury, it is difficult to get rid of the question - what is in front of us: travel notes made in a hurry where photography was not allowed, or skillful stylizations for such sketches?
It seems logical to see travel notes on pieces of paper in a cage or strip taken from some kind of notebook. The conclusion suggests itself - maybe the architect is trying to get away from the practice of "cheap" sketching, thus demonstrating respect for the subject? Today's masters are increasingly using a felt-tip pen, or even a ballpoint pen - but the classics should be drawn with a pen, a wash, on a torchon. Even while in the Libyan Desert. There is a feeling that we are facing - at least in part - a performance on the theme of a "retirement" trip, played by the author first for himself, and then shown to the viewer in the format of an exhibition.
But if the performance is for itself, then its purpose is not only a demonstration. Apparently, this is the penetration into the material and its "mastering" in many ways. It all starts with overcoming the distance and various obstacles associated with traveling in Libya and the Middle East. Then - the opportunity to look, get around, touch. Then - take a picture; draw; write down the thoughts that have arisen in the process of inspection-drawing. In theory, in order to make a competent facade with columns, no travel is required now. An attempt to go beyond the boundaries of the famous classics, to collect new material? Simple admiration for what you saw? Staging the behavior of a "real" admirer of the classics? In any case, for the present time, all this is atypical. Now architects abroad are looking more at Rem Koolhaas or Zaha Hadid.
So, on the one hand, this is a staging exhibition, maybe an attempt to try on the behavior of neoclassical predecessors, and on the other hand, a research exhibition demonstrating material unknown in Moscow. I must say, this is not the first exhibition of this kind - the first one took place several years ago, where the famous critic and art critic, editor-in-chief of the Project Classic magazine Grigory Revzin showed his photographs taken on the same trips to the Hellenistic and Roman monuments. Actually, Maxim Atayants began his travels together with Grigory Revzin and the curator of the current exhibition, Doctor of Art History Vladimir Sedov. They also wrote introductory and concluding articles in the exhibition catalog. Such friendship with art critics is also not very typical - probably from here comes the distinct taste of research, which is felt at the exhibition. It combines the interests of an architect, historian and artist, and it turns out very holistically.
In principle, it is clear that many monuments (and not just masterpieces) were the object of attention; it is obvious that everything we could get to was photographed; Of course, the most beautiful of the resulting photographs were selected for the exhibition. The picture is not an end in itself, but a way to record what he saw - for the researcher and for the architect at the same time. And at the same time, the pictures are obviously beautiful, you can admire them, and a special taste for admiration is given by the understanding of the fact that getting to these delightful ruins is, oh, how difficult and not everyone is destined to. Thus, the exhibition of Maxim Atayants is a fusion of research, dramatization and the actual photo exhibition.
The second exhibition, which is taking place in the "Ruin Wing", which, as you know, was deliberately preserved by the director of the museum in a dilapidated state for the organization of conceptual exhibitions, has a slightly different character - and yet it is very noteworthy that both exhibitions took place in parallel. As if the museum suddenly decided to seriously reflect on the topic of ruins on a global scale. Apparently by chance a chain of comparisons arises here: at the end of the 18th century. Russian architects joined the next European surge in the study of antiquity, and manor classicism arose. Now the estates have turned into ruins, they are exhibited in the ruin wing, and meanwhile the modern classic Maxim Atayants travels along the Mediterranean coast, studying and fixing those original ruins, from which everything began, and finds them all in the same state. Roman ruins belong to eternity, it seems that nothing will happen to them - although in reality this is not the case, the Taliban and various other incidents happen from time to time, but it still seems that the antiquities have gone through a lot and are able to survive anything. The remains of the estates, on the contrary, are waiting for them to begin to be divided and do something with them - either to restore (which I would really like), or simply to equip the owners to taste - as you know, on January 1, Russia lifted a moratorium on privatization of immovable monuments. And in anticipation of radical changes (for the worse? For the better?), The ruins of the estates seem to have frozen and are trying to seem antique, that is, to move into the category of eternity.
This is what was written about in the opening words to the exhibition of photographs with the strange title “The homesteads are here” and equally similar to a link on the Internet and an inscription on the fence. The authors of the photographs, Sasha Manovtseva and Maxim Seregin, strive to show in the remains of the estates "timeless grandeur" - as it is written in the introduction. This is probably why the photographs were taken in black and white and with very high contrast - to create the effect of detachment from the monuments, familiar to many. In total, there are 10 suburban complexes (Marfino, Bykovo, Otrada and other famous ensembles) and 5 nearby regions, in particular, many photographs of horses from the Ryazan Starozhilov stud farm. The effect of detachment arises, and it must be admitted that it is supported by the interior of the "Ruins", here the exposition was just great.
The task of the created effect is not very clear - apparently, it is purely aesthetic, namely, photographic. This is a bit strange, since it is known that the photographs were taken for a book originally invented by Natalia Bondareva for fixation purposes. The photographing process was consulted by art critic Andrei Chekmarev and historian Alexei Slezkin, experts in the monuments of the Russian province, but in the end the matter was limited to a detached look at the nearest monuments. At the opening day, photographers distanced themselves from art critics, saying that "thanks for the consultation, but we had our own concept …".
So it turns out, if you walk through two exhibitions in a row, that one brings the ruins of the Roman province closer to us, exploring them, showing them in detail and beautifully (not without aesthetics) to the viewer - so that you want to go there and see, despite the fact that is far. And the second - moves Bykovo and Marfino away so that it seems as if they were destroyed long ago and we are looking at photographs from someone's old collection. Perhaps this coldness arises in response to the removal of art critics? There is no study of manor architecture here, but there is a desire to extract from it the "author's gesture". The gesture turned out, but its meaning is not very clear.
