Archi.ru:
How do fine arts and architecture interact in the context of an exhibition? What is the best "background" for the artwork?
Tatiana Nazarenko:
- It seems to me that in historical museum spaces, just as in spaces of churches or cathedrals, modern exhibitions can look very interesting: maybe much more interesting than in a special, empty space that does not give you food for imagination.
In the past, many Soviet museums were located in the buildings of churches and cathedrals. In the old, old days, I did my exhibition in a church in Lviv: my works are under Gothic vaults. Later there was an exhibition in Vologda, in the Nativity Cathedral, and there I had an angel made of polyurethane foam, quite large, flying under the arches - over the governor and other people who opened the exhibition. I liked it very much; and in an ordinary hall this angel sits under the ceiling and sits, and there is no such shift in concepts. The same is the exhibition of the AES + F group in Geneva: it was also great, because their antique and other historical motives were intertwined with the neo-baroque architecture of the city museum.
And sometimes in large museums some small work of an Italian master of the 15th century, say, Sassetta, disappears, and great efforts are needed to prevent this, as in the Hermitage, where walls are painted in different colors for this, and the works look more profitable. in contrast to the recent practice of exclusively white walls.
That is, you like the multi-colored walls
– Yes. Some of the jobs are fantastically changing. For example, an exhibition of Mikhail Larionov is now open at the Tretyakov Gallery. Small works on a blue or yellow wall start to look completely different, because both the walls and the works are expressive and intense [exhibition design - architect Alexei Podkidyshev. - Approx. Archi.ru]. Very well. And if you hang the canvases on an ordinary white wall, and if you don't even light it up, it's just death for them.
The other day I walked through the Russian Museum and thought: of course, it is magnificent, but it absolutely does not correspond to the feeling of an art museum. This is a museum of royal furniture, royal chambers, but icons, masterpieces of ancient Russian art are dark, dark.
After all, once in the churches there were candles burning, but the icons did not exist there to admire them, but as religious symbols. Therefore, whether they are smoky or light, no one worried. And now, when you enter the church, you raise your head, something on the vault is depicted in the twilight, but this is not for viewing. The functionality of the building should be expressed: what needs to be lit, what remains in the shade. In Europe, I really like that during the service people are not allowed into cathedrals, because this is a sacrament, and then it is not necessary to turn on the light. And at normal times you turn on the light and enjoy the frescoes, and think how wonderful it is that electricity is supplied and you can see it all.
If we touch upon the theme of museum and exhibition design, what else would you name among the successful Moscow exhibitions?
– «Ilya and Emilia Kabakov. Not everyone will be taken into the future”at the Tretyakov Gallery on Krymsky Val. This is the same design as the Tate Gallery and the Hermitage [authors - Andrey Shelyutto, Marina Chekmareva, Timofey Zhuravlev. - Approx. Archi.ru]. It was amazing there: I walked along the narrow corridors and watched the works of Emilia Kabakova. There were printed stories of her childhood, photographs, I came across some small rooms in which there were brooms, trash cans and so on. That is, she created an even more interactive installation than Ilya.
There - very funny - there were excursions of seven- to eight-year-old children. And the guide, such a serious lady, leaning over to them, said: "What associations does this work evoke in you?" They were standing in front of a picture that was allegedly painted by some fictional character of Kabakov - "She got a party card." I froze and listened for about twenty minutes what the children answered about the associations with the "party membership card" and the rest. It was funny, but I don't know, maybe you really need to talk to children like that, then by the age of sixteen everything will be completely clear to them.
I was just looking at the magazine "Young Artist", where diplomas of graduates of the Repin Institute in St. Petersburg were published, and I thought: what a terrible feeling - such an impression that they were written either in the 1950s, or in the 1960s, they are so not correspond to the modern idea of what work should be. How can you stop at a given time? Our education is terrible, so we will not touch on this.
What is the theme of art in the city for you?
– Yesterday we went to one exhibition in the dying Central House of Artists and literally stumbled - I thought they were made of paper or inflated - about two works by Andrei Bartenev, a bear and a snake. It was a little funny. Things have to be addressed to someone, and when they are not addressed, there is a strange feeling.
And your installation "Transition", to whom is it addressed?
– These are figures cut out of plywood, there were 120 of them, they were shown in many countries, and it all began with the Central House of Artists. I believe that an artist should show his time. When I look at works of the fifteenth or eighteenth century, I can clearly feel the time they are addressed to. When I look at Dutch still lifes, I imagine a Dutch house with small cozy rooms where small cozy things hang. You come to the Louvre, watch the triumphal cycle of Maria Medici Rubens, and you understand why these huge works were made. They cannot be represented in any modern museum. The artist must leave his feeling from time to time.
The city is a frequent hero of your works. What is a city for you? In which cities do you feel good?
– I have always loved Moscow. Rather, I loved old Moscow, I grew up in the center of Moscow, on Plyushchikha. There were always beautiful buildings in front of me. I grew up in a house from the beginning of the 20th century, where there were luxurious stained-glass windows, where there were lion heads holding chains, coffered ceilings, two black staircases and a front door, in one of the apartments there was a fountain. That is, I lived in a house where it was difficult not to become an artist, because it all set me up to admire and dream. The funny thing is that when the “new Russians” bought out all the apartments there, they knocked out these luxurious stained-glass windows - bubble stained glass with metal ties - and made white frosted walls.
All my life I loved the center, I loved the Arbat, along which I went to an art school. I studied opposite the Tretyakov Gallery. Zamoskvorechye. What churches are there! What cathedrals! And then it began to deteriorate, to crumble. A dog playground next to the Gnessin School - in fact, Novy Arbat passed through it. I remember how horrible it was for me.
Now, every time I come to Moscow, I look with pain at what is happening in the city: before our eyes everything changes, everything deteriorates, everything is destroyed. And what remains takes on such monstrous forms that it is difficult and painful to look at it.
The editorial staff of Archi.ru would like to thank the founder of Artdecision Irina Vernichenko for her help in organizing the interview.
