“Everything starts from a dot” – The Development of Art Movements in Late Imperial Russia and in Soviet Russia

Russia’s artistic legacy is of Imperial Tsarism, industrial Communism and of some of the finest and most unique art, theatre, literature and architecture in Europe. When the Revolution began in 1905, it marked not only a political change but also a change in Russian culture. It acted as a catalyst for reordering and modernising a country which had severely lagged behind the rest of Europe for most of its existence. The artistic movements which were already in existence in the Imperial era emphasised elitism and elegance. Following the revolution though these had adapted and modernised or perished. While the rest of Europe was experiencing a Fin de Siècle or Belle Époque, Russia too was undergoing a similar transformation referred to as their ‘Silver Age’ which embodied the history of art, philosophy, aesthetics, and literary criticism[1]. This era was at its height when revolutionary philosophies seeped into artistic movements, and when the Revolution transpired it became obvious that more than politics had changed. Indeed, there were few new artistic movements after 1918 that could not trace their roots back to Silver Age ideas.

The later Imperial years, from 1860 onwards, marked a dramatic change in artistic thought and expression. Russia was experiencing a steady stream of social development, an increased emphasis on education was seen, and whilst being run mostly by the church, witnessed literacy rates rise from 6% in the 1860s to an estimated 28% by 1913[2]. This was also an era where Russia produced eminent contributions in science and maths, such as Lobachevsky, Pavlov and Mendelev. Social sciences too became more prominent, History in particular became a well studied field as Russian academics explored their national historiography. Fine art during the first decade and a half of the 20th Century was divided between artists seeking to continue celebrating traditional styles, and those seeking to express the progressive bold new styles. John Bowlt suggests that artists became desperately aware of the “fundamental displacement of social, ethical and cultural values”, exacerbated by the 1905 uprisings, and they fled from a “mundane reality” into an etherial and unorthodox world[3]. Bowlt goes on to suggest that another reason for returning to traditional natural art was the fear and intrigue caused by Russia’s rapid industrialisation. However the decadence of the Imperial era was drawing to a close and for a brief final period Russian art lacked a purpose or reason[4].

Symbolism was a short lived movement, but developed highly emotional and spiritual pieces of work expressed mostly through poetry. Early symbolists, such as Vladimir Solovev expressed close connections to nature, and his successors, such as Aleksandr Blok would build on the principles of nature and country to write poems about Russia and nationalism. Blok would span pre-Soviet and post-Soviet genres, and the maturing from futility to utilitarianism in art movements. Peter France highlights how Blok’s works conclude with a sense of hope, unexpected joy and resurrection[5], not only being inspired by his country but also being influenced by the revolutionary ideology. Symbolism though reached its climax around 1905 and spawned a progeny in the form of the Acmeists. Whilst the Symbolists had sought to imply and infer through metaphors and allegories, the Acmeists favoured unambiguous imagery and emotions in their writing. Poets such as Anna Akhmatova and Osip Mandelstam flourished in the movement, and Blok too adapted to the new style. Bernice Glatzer Rosenthal argues that the downfall of symbolism was its cryptic nature, and highlights that whilst they were trying to influence the Russian people, even artists had difficulty understanding one another’s work[6]. Symbolism emphasised the elitist nature of a lot of art from the start of the 20th Century, with a lack of accessibility for the proletariat, with many of the poems written seemingly accepting a revolution as the next symbol.

Another of these ‘decadent’ movements appeared in architecture in the form of ‘style moderne’, a cousin of Art Nouveau. The principles of Art Nouveau are organic, natural and creative design and applied mostly to architecture and graphic design. William Brumfield’s article on anti-modernism points out that the movement came about following a shift to urbanisation, but was primarily intended for Russia’s bourgeoise[7]. As an artistic movement it was criticised as being ‘aristocratic aestheticism’ but also because critics, in particular the Mir Iskusstva, saw it as a threat to Russia’s traditional buildings and design. This led to the counter movement of neo-classicism which favoured classic designs and icons over the modernity of style moderne. Paradoxically the Neoclassical movement was responsible for more urban development than style moderne ever did, and was responsible for buildings such as the Moscow State Pedagogical University (built 1910-1914) and many large apartment buildings in the capital.

The Realism and Classicism that had been the trademark movements of the 19th Century were at worst in their death throws and new movements like the Mir Iskusstva (The World of Art Movement) actually rejected realism. They acted as a prominent force for artistic change in the pre-Revolutionary era, through a collection of revisionist artists and a magazine which publicised their philosophy. A. Benois initiated the movement as a means to counter the modern and pro-Positivist themes in art which they saw as lower artistic standards, their philosophy being ‘Art for Art’s Sake’[8]. Despite a large following the magazine became unpopular for its approach to art criticism, with articles attacking specific artists and accusations of foreign influences damaging Russian styles[9]. The movement saw art as a force for educating the masses, with morally or socially uplifting subjects, and supported by national identities. They welcomed traditional subjects, in traditional media: illustration, painting and writing. It particularly promoted folk art and handicrafts, hoping that the Russian population would value them over the ‘mass-produced commercialised’ art[10].

However, no amount of historical nationalism and retrospective art could prevent revolutionary philosophy from infiltrating movements following the 1905 uprisings in Russia. Whilst the political revolution had failed the educational revolution was underway, with the years following the uprisings being the years that Russian modernism would flourish. The national art history that Benois had craved was slowly developing, in contradiction to his ideals of outright traditionalism. Modernism and futurism were the new favoured styles, as they too had changed to address more social themes.

Neo-primitivism was an evolving style. It bridged the divide between the Mir Iskusstva school of thought and the futurist style, embracing traditional folklore subjects and expressing them through modern painting. Natalya Goncharova’s (1914) image of a woman in peasant costume expressed no attributes of Realism and lacked in finesse, similarly Malivech’s 1912 painting ‘Morning in the Village after a Snowstorm’ demonstrated a highly stylised cubist interpretation of a traditional scene.

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‘Morning in the Village after a Snowstorm’ – Kasimir Malevich (1912),

In comparison the ultramodern Futurist movement whilst defined as ‘Russian Futurism’ was ultimately a facsimile of the Italian Futurism outlined by Filippo Marinetti’s ‘Futurist Manifesto’ from 1909. The principles were outlined as: “anarchical vitalism, defiant rebellion against ‘passiesmé’ in the arts as well as in society, and confidence in the achievements of technological civilisation”[11]. Marinetti’s vision manifested itself primarily in Russian literature and poetry. Writers such as Velimir Khlebnikov and Vladimir Mayakovsky embodied the spirit of futurism in the writings. Marinetti’s concept embraced technology, and the Russian writers developed their own ‘transrational language’ or ‘zaum’ which used onomatopoeic words to convey sounds and mechanisation[12]. Khlebnikov’s poem ‘The Grasshopper’ uses “zingzinger” and “ping” to express noises. In comparison to the romanticism of Pushkin and the realism of Dostoevsky, the futurist poets showed a progression and modernity, and a want for change.

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‘Red Rayonism’ – Mikhail Larionov (1913)

Rayonnism was a visual development of futurist ideas by Mikhail Larionov in 1911. Whilst abstract paintings are the ideas and reactions to a subject Rayonnist artists used bold colours and brush strokes to evoke not the object but the “rays emanating from the object”[13]. Similar in style and subject to Italian Futurist paintings artists depicted modernity, speed and technology. Larionov saw Rayonnism as more than an artistic style or a fashion, but “literal renderings of physical and philosophical fact”[14]. In comparison to Realist style or ‘style moderne’ which promoted literalism and inanimateness, Larionov’s movement embodied modern themes of the era: speed, light and space. Suprematism was a similar movement started 1915-1916, and pioneered by Kasimir Malevich which built on Larionov’s principles of linear simple compositions, but reduced this subject and focused on basic shapes and forms[15]. ‘Yellow Quadrilateral on White’ (Malevich, 1916-1917) and ‘Black Square’ (Malevich, 1913) are key examples of the simple style of painting and even the titles of the paintings imply a minimalist and functional approach to the art form. Charlotte Douglas argues that Suprematism directly turned its back on the Symbolist philosophy of reason and purpose[16], instead its simplicity actually represented nothing and was the creation of a new reality, and in many ways represented Russia: as a new and fresh system. Suprematist paintings were the direct opposite, both aesthetically and philosophically to the detailed and literal works of Realist artists such as Repin.

Bowlt hypothesises that the Silver Age was an incredibly confused era in art history, which he argues derived partly from the fact that the Russian Silver Age was an extremely varied, contradictory and elaborate phenomenon”[17]. The era demonstrated a transition in Russian art. From the classical Realist paintings of Repin; to the traditionalist revival of the neo-primitivists; to the antagonistic Futurists. The years between 1905 and 1908 marked a turning point for the art movements of Russia as the implications of the 1905 uprisings began to sink into artistic philosophy. As the Bolsheviks seized power in 1917, there was drastic political and social upheaval. This was not just a move for the future though, as new traditions were quickly established, religious holidays were replaced with new holidays[18] and Russia’s history began to seem archaic and bourgeois. And the revolution did not stop in October 1917, as the Civil War continued from October until 1923. However, the revolution was not necessarily a catalyst for change within the art movements. Many of the seeds of revolution and modernity had been sewn a decade earlier. Early Soviet artists had already decidedly rejected the old styles, and were then seeking to use the new space to further their new movements.

The revolution had political and social ramifications, the proletariat worker became highly valued. Their significance was shown in the Proletkult movement which encouraged art ‘about the people, by the people, for the people’. The Proletkult was funded and controlled by the Bolshevik régime, with the intention of creating artless classless art which was universally accessible[19]. Initially, there was a Pluralist society which welcomed creative development. A problem which arose out of this was anti-intellectualism and anti-elitism. Whilst before the revolution art had been mostly free of political influence, now it was critical to developing art. In many ways Anti-intellectualism became an artistic style in itself, by promoting its own philosophy of anti-authority and anti-heirarchy in art. One poet wrote: “Destroy the churches, those nests of gentry lies; Destroy the university, that nest of bourgeois lies; Drive away the priests, drive away the scientists! Destroy the false gentry and bourgeois heavens”[20]. This led to a heightened sense of class consciousness, and an aggressive anti-elitist crackdown as Soviet era progressed artists came under pressure to conform to new – arguably more Soviet – styles. Peter France examples Anna Akhmatova and explains that she continued to write about the same insecurities as in her earlier work, however the Central Committee of the Communist Party found her work ‘anachronistic’ and had her work censored[21]. Formalism too was a style which came under attack in the Soviet era. It was a movement which grew out of the principles of Futurism, embracing the modernist subjects and styles but demanded a more coherent and erudite format. To those who valued class equality, Formalism was a style which embodied an outdated technique and demanded an educated audience.

Agitprop was one of the few new movements in the post-revolutionary era. It used pamphlets, plays, cinema, and the fine arts to simply and ideologically address the working proletariat. This was partially as a result of being influenced by the Futurists, but also because literacy was still incredibly low. The Bolsheviks still needed to maintain influence over their population and the best way to express this influence was at a basic graphic level.

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Vladimir Mayakovsky Agitprop poster, “Want it? Join” (Date unknown)

Another emerging style was Constructivism which took its basis from earlier Futurism. It was a movement which used the same geometric shapes, lines and bold colours as the Futurists but their philosophy conformed more to the Soviet demand for a utilitarian approach to everything, this included art. However this created divisions between artists, particularly in the Constructivists who debated utilitarian purpose in their work and whether it was an ‘organising principle’ or an ‘aesthetic function’[22] and combining and balancing them to create a composition. Constructivism started and developed the first true Russian ‘machine age art’, rejected easel paining, but most significantly embraced functionalism and utility and so quickly expanded into more utilitarian purposes. Contemporary critics had seen the art produced by the movement as literal design prototypes and the main proponents soon found themselves designing fabrics, clothing, furnishings in the tone of Russian industrialism[23]. It was a highly influential style which penetrated all aspects of Soviet society in a way that previous movements had been purely aesthetic and artistic, as Bowlt highlights there was no “Cubist architecture, no Symbolist chairs, and no Realist dresses”[24].

Fashion was one of these branches, and the Constructivists found their style created clothing which was “simple, cheap, hygienic, easy to wear, and industrial”[25]. Liubov Popova was one of the key designer of the era. Her lack of institutionalised artistic training was quintessential of the era, being made by the proletariat and free of any ‘elitist’ influence. Povova’s designs shared the Suprematist’s use of simple geometric shapes, however her canvas was the body and relied on the compositions ability to hang off the body. Whilst previous artistic movements had been either in the 3D form of sculpture, or 2D form of painting, the Soviet interest in fashion applied the 2D principles to a 3D surface.

Architecture was another of the 3D developments which saw aesthetic changes by Constructivism. As with the rest of their work functionality became paramount, with the aim being to unite living, working, and recreational spaces[26]. The beacon, quite literally of the Constructivist architectural movement was the Shukhov Radio Mast in Moscow. The essence of Constructivism was modernity, and their ability to apply their philosophy to all every day media meant that the Constructivism artists effectively designed the revolution.

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The Shukhov Radio Mast in Moscow

At the same time the fine arts had in no way been forgotten or replaced. The descendants of Futurism, in the same way as the Constructivists, had utilised the new open space for artistic development and media. However the Constructivists’s utilitarianism was a minor part of the new Futurist movement. Suprematism continued into the early Soviet years continuing to create 2D artwork of a wholly aesthetic nature. Other branches of Futurism spread into literature and music expressing the industrial and mechanical themes which had previously only been expressed in paint. Arseny Avraamov’s ‘Symphony of Factory Sirens’ used ship sirens, vehicle horns, fog horns, factory sirens and artillery to create a cacophony of industrial tones. There was also the development of ‘conductorless’ orchestras, created partially due to a lack of skilled conductors in post-revolutionary Russia but also the belief that conductors “prevented good musicians from expressing their artistic individuality”[27].

Futurism was not just about the artistic style but also about the new media. Cinema became a new form of artistic expression. Though as new media was developed their was an realisation by the régime that the media should be utilised to promote their Bolshevik ideals. Sergei Eisenstein’s films ‘October’ and ‘Battleship Potemkin’ acted as propaganda for the state, as highly idealised interpretations of history.

Another pre-revolution movement that saw a comeback was Realism. Now a movement that had been highly influenced by the Proletkult and modernist styles, Socialist Realism was a state promoted artistic style. In place of the elitist archaic style was now a modernised propaganda tool, aimed at “realistically” portraying proletariat life. The Worker Correspondence movement combined journalism with creative writing established a ‘proletarian literature’[28]. In the visual arts too, the proletariat was central. Painters depicted three things: portraits of political or military leaders; historical paintings; and ‘genre’ paintings depicting production lines, collective farming, and domesticity[29]. The post-revolutionary years were political designed to create a new Russia, and whilst the artistic movements were nothing revolutionary, they helped shape the new era both philosophically and aesthetically.

When comparing the movements of both pre and post revolutionary Russia there is a clear progression from Classicism to Modernism, but only at the polar ends of each era. Late Imperial art enjoyed traditional subjects and styles, portraying decadence and archaism. As revolutionary philosophies seeped into the Russian consciousness, there was both an advancement in art but also several movements established to protect the themes of Imperial art. The Mir Iskusstva movement backlashed against the modernism of art, whilst the Neo-primitivists attempted to combine the traditional and the Positivist in their art. However, the Futurist movement best represented their contemporary Russia. The Silver Age then witnessed he most significant change in artistic styles and when the revolution of 1917 came around, much of the revolutionising had already happened.

The art of the early Soviets differed greatly from the art before 1905. The biggest change in society was the militant Collectivism, exhibited by the Proletkult. Great emphasis was placed on industrialism and the proletariat. There was a disappearance of the individual from art in favour of the masses. There was also the development of agitation in artwork, as movements were encouraged to evoke revolution and change. However as Soviet Russia grew, there was a greater stress to conform, and the radical art of 1917 to the late 1930s was lost to Stalin’s cultural control.

Ginny Dawe-Woodings BA MA

  1. Nicholas V. Riasanosky, Mark D. Steinberg, A History of Russia Since 1855 Volume 2 (2011), p. 444
  2. Ibid, p. 442
  3. John E. Bowlt, ‘Neo-Primitivism and Russian Painting’ in The Burlington Magazine (1975), Vol. 116, No. 853, p. 134
  4. Ibid, p. 94
  5. Peter France, Poets of Modern Russia (1982), p. 54
  6. Bernice Glatzer Rosenthal, ‘Nietzsche in Russia: The Case of Merezhkovsky’ in Slavic Review (1974), Vol. 33, No. 3, p. 437
  7. William C. Brumfield, ‘Anti-Modernism and the Neoclassical Revival in Russian Architecture’ in Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians (1989), Vol. 48, No. 4, p. 371
  8. Tamara Talbot Rice, A Concise History of Russian Art (1963), p. 248
  9. Stuart R. Grover, ‘The World of Art Movement in Russia’ in Russian Review (1973), Vol. 32, No. 1, p. 33
  10. Ibid, p. 36-37
  11. Anna Lawton, ‘Russian and Italian Futurist Manifestoes’ in The Slavic and East European Journal (1976), Vol. 20, No. 4, p. 407
  12. Ibid, p. 409
  13. Tamara Talbot Rice, A Concise History of Russian Art (1963), p. 262
  14. Charlotte Douglas, ‘The New Russian Art and Italian Futurism’ in Art Journal (1975), Vol. 34, No. 3, p. 233
  15. Tamara Talbot Rice, A Concise History of Russian Art (1963), p. 262
  16. Charlotte Douglas, ‘Suprematism: The Sensible Dimension’ in Russian Review (1975), Vol. 34, No. 3, p. 280
  17. John E. Bowlt, ‘Through the Glass Darkly: Images of Decadence in Early Twentieth Century Russian Art’ in Journal of Contemporary History (1982), Vol. 17, No. 1, p. 94
  18. František Deák, ‘ The AgitProp and Circus Plays of Vladimir Mayakovsky’ in The Drama Review: TDR (1973), Vol. 17, No. 1, p. 47
  19. Leo Pasvolsky, ‘Proletkult: It’s Pretensions and Fallacies’ in The North American Review (1921), Vol. 213, No. 785, p. 539
  20. Abbott Gleason, Peter Kenez, Richard Stites, Bolshevik Culture (1985), p. 15
  21. Peter France, Poets of Modern Russia (1982), p. 63
  22. Briony Fer, ‘Metaphor and Modernity: Russian Constructivism’ in Oxford Art Journal (1989), Vol. 12, No. 1, p. 19
  23. Catriona Kelly, David Shepherd, Russian Culture (1998), p. 143
  24. Abbott Gleason, Peter Kenez, Richard Stites, Bolshevik Culture (1985), p. 205
  25. Ibid, p. 203
  26. Catriona Kelly, David Shepherd, Russian Culture (1998), p. 144
  27. Leonid Sabaneev, ‘A Conductorless Orchestra’ in The Musical Times (1928), Vol. 69, No. 1022, p. 308
  28. Jeremy Hicks, ‘Worker Correspondents: Between Journalism and Literature’ in The Russia Review (2007), Vol. 66, No. 4, p. 585
  29. Catriona Kelly, David Shepherd, Russian Culture (1998), p. 146

“I Know My Place” – How ‘History from Below’ has Contributed To Our Understanding of the Past and the Study of History

‘History from below’ or ‘people’s history’ is a social history of the ‘common’ people. However it is a portion of history that is frequently overlooked and understudied when it comes to understanding the identity and lifestyle of this section of society. Howard Zinn identifies this history as telling the story of the relationship “between conquerors and conquered, masters and slaves, capitalists and workers, dominators and dominated in race and sex”[1].

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“I look up to him because he is upper class, but I look down on him because he is lower class”…”I know my place”. A sketch from ‘The Frost Report’ featuring John Cleese, Ronnie Barker and Ronnie Corbett.

 

 

The majority of social history focuses around ‘WEIRD’ (Western, Educated, Industrialied, Rich, and Democratic) history. A good example of this is the copious amounts of history written about the monarchy, but the much less written about the societies over which they ruled. Mostly this stems from what the term ‘WEIRD’ entails; that the people being written about and who were doing the writing were from the same group, were educated and, most importantly, rich. The upper classes only occupied a small portion of society and so were not the norm, they were the exception. So the most significantly beneficial contribution of ‘people’s history’ is that it offers an alternative perspective, often in direct opposition to this theory of ‘WEIRD’ history. One of the biggest sections of history to benefit from ‘history from below’ is the understanding of groups who have suffered oppression; the poor and the lower classes, ethnic and religious minorities, women, the disenfranchised and other overlooked fringes of society. History has benefitted from the expanded understanding of of these groups that ‘history from below’ has brought.

Women’s history is one of the groups which has contributed to our understanding of the gender divide and gender stereotypes. Throughout history, contemporaneous sources have virtually overlooked women, in the sense that the importance of their everyday work and their political influence has been disregarded. Social mobility has generally been discussed in terms of men alone[2]. Burke raises many questions concerning the role of women, especially concerning their status, their role in the world place and in society in general. What kinds of work were performed by women in particular places and times and has the status of women changed? However as he highlights, the difficulty in finding evidence or documentation concerning women stems from the fact that little of it was actually recorded by the male dominated society[3]. “Generally, however, the further back historians seeking to reconstruct the experience of the lower orders go, the more restricted the range of sources at their disposal becomes”[4]. As with most social history it is only recently that historians have taken an interest in the plight of women, mostly driven by the Feminist movement which sought greater acknowledgment of women and their past.

Religious and ethnic minorities have also suffered in the reporting of their respective histories. One suggested reason for this is embarrassment. Zinn highlights this by using the example of the Holocaust, stating that the “Holocaust play[s] a more prominent role in [America now] than it did in the first decades after the Second World War”[5] and what he means by this is that whilst immediate post-World War Two society and scholars recognised the atrocities as horrific and unique, there was a level of embarrassment felt about the fact that something like the Holocaust was able to have occurred so recently and so they seemingly ‘skirted around’ the issue. Historians nowadays no longer have to come to terms with this embarrassment and have a level of detachment, possibly because of the passage of time, allowing them to write with more detail and less shame about the history surrounding the Holocaust and other cases of religious intolerance. This argument can also be applied to racial history, the key example in this case being the transatlantic slave trade, and the embarrassment about what had been regarded as ‘normal’ in the recent past.

The defining feature of these examples is the social standing or class of the protagonists; their label of ‘poor’ or ‘lower class’. This umbrella group ‘poor’ historically had little to no impact on society. Their lives, rather than forming the subjects of formal historical analysis, were recorded mainly through the documentation of the controlling classes, through judicial records and the media.

As highlighted by Zinn, one of the most unequivocal social dichotomies comes in the form of the ‘conquerors and the conquered’. This may best be summed up by the phrase “history is written by the victors”, popularly attributed to Winston Churchill. “[We] found a most numerous population, and a great number of houses”[6] is how Christopher Colombus described his first encounters with South American natives, a discovery which would open the door to an entirely new civilisation. The study of these tribes challenged the stereotypical perceptions of the ‘savage’ native Americans as a mass of evidence uncovered their societies, the way their tribes were structured, their gender roles and sexuality, and even their psychology. It was discovered that these tribes actually lived an egalitarian and in some areas, advanced, way of life, including “nonstate politics, nonmarket economies, and noninstitutionalized religions”[7]. Their society was shown to be an equal community, where women and men had different roles but were respected equally within their civilisation, as Lahontan describes it, “their Daughters have the command of their own Bodies and may dispose of their Persons as they think fit; they being at their liberty to do what they please”[8]. However, as with history from this age, the contemporaneous history was written by the conquerors, written to justify why they were there and what they were doing. It was only after that phase that historians turned to and contradicted the often biased views of these primary sources and developed a much better understanding of the lives of these tribes. A short lived history as Columbus simultaneously discovered and wiped out an entire civilisation, with the tribal population being reduced by up to 90% in some areas following smallpox and tuberculosis epidemics[9].

Columbus brought us knowledge of previously unknown and unstudied socieites, however all too late. What historians learnt about the tribes of South American history was important on several levels. When the colonists arrived, they were faced with something starkly different too their own European society in which there was a distinct dichotomy between male and female roles. That these ‘savage’ tribes were able to maintain a nondiscriminatory civilisation was in contradiction of the colonists belief. This not only showed social differences based around class or gender, but geographic and innate social differences.

Slavery, as Zinn points out, offers a similar contrast between traditional history and ‘people’s history’. Slave society is now considered in depth, that is in relations and behavior[10]. Studying slavery is a new field within in history and as Hobsbawm highlights there is already a wealth of information being discovered about their troubled past. But the benefits to historians studying slavery is that “slaveowners cannot be understood without slaves, and without the nonslave sectors of society’[11]. The study of the slave trade is also important because of its impact on later history such as civil rights movements and African-American emancipation.

One of Zinn’s other suggested comparisons is that of the ‘capitalist and the worker’. Money has often created a divide between those who have it and those who do not and this in turn creates a social divide. This is a section of ‘people’s history’ which has become more relevant during the 20th Century following massive industrial upheaval in Britain, the Russian Revolution and an emerging politicised working class. Through the stories of working people historians develop a better understanding of the reasons and psychology behind the workers movement. Brian Simmons, a teacher from Hackney gave his account of working class life which illuminates the fact that there are not just differences in social ranking, but also in political and religious ideology. Simmons states that “[he] never mixed with the well-off jewish people. You were Labour, they were Tories”[12] and that he believed social differences are something to overcome, “if I’ve learnt anything it’s that we have to fight”[13]. The contribution of worker’s history is particularly relevant in the 20th and 21st Century history, as these centuries saw an aware and increasingly politicised working class and so they became responsible for much more societal change as a group.

Through these examples ‘history from below’ becomes extremely relevant in terms of establishing an all inclusive overall view of society. However ‘history from below’ also has its drawbacks. Over-compensation for the lack of common social history is an initial problem. There is the suggestion that in compensating for the omissions of traditional history, such as between the elite and people and male and female, it could reverse the roles whereby there becomes a wealth of writings on female and common history. Burke suggests that it would be more useful to focus on the changing  of relationships[14]. Further, works devoted to ‘people’s history’ often fall into the same trap as traditional history by omitting the other sides of society. This is particularly highlighted by working class history. Hitchcock’s views is that “in the 1980s the social history of the poor, and of the political struggles of the working class, gradually evolved from what had been perhaps the most humane and internationally important facet of British history into an increasingly disregarded fragment of historical studies”[15] and highlights the fact that because of social change now, being a more liberal and united society, there is less importance placed on knowing the history of the working classes.

Patrick Joyce has argued that because of the changing nature of history, the need for social history will be eliminated. He argues that, in the past, history’s aim was to transform the object of its attention, be it women, classes, the oppressed. However there is now uncertainty as to what the historical aims are[16]. He poses the questions; what is the aim of social history now; is ‘history from below’ of relevance in the modern world; and will it be relevant in the future? Hobsbawm too argues that there is a move away from classical Rankean history which exposed the structure and changes in society, and more especially between the relationships between classes and social groups[17]. History is evidently a polarised subject, “History is the story of class conflict”[18] and it is only in more recent times when that polarisation between the classes has begun to decrease that historians take a greater interest in ‘history from below’.

In furthering the study of history ‘history from below’ is a useful source but not without it’s problems. In essence it attempts to do the same as ‘WEIRD’ or traditional history, by focusing around one section of society and omitting any of the alternatives, and so suffers an equivalent exclusivity. It is argued that while it still bears relevance when concerned with some eras of history, particularly in its relevance to earlier history, its place in studying modern or recent history is limited. ‘History from below’ is fundamentally beneficial because it provides the alternative to the standard ‘WEIRD’ history which is dominant throughout the subject. It has contributed massively to the history of non-conformist groups throughout history, women and workers being particularly significant examples. ‘History from below’ fills in what traditional patriarchal history excluded. Advocates of ‘history from below’ also highlight the benefits it has in filling in significant social gaps from the lower classes who have so frequently been overlooked in the past. The important question concerning ‘history from below’ is what contribution did it back to history that traditional history had not done before? This is where ‘people’s history’ is most relevant, by creating a broader view of social history and creating a better understanding of the people who drive social change from the view of the participants.

Ginny Dawe-Woodings BA MA

  1. Howard Zinn, A People’s History of the United States from 1492 to the Present (1996), p. 10
  2. Peter Burke, History and Social Theory (1992), p. 51
  3. Ibid, p. 51
  4. Ibid, p. 27
  5. Howard Zinn, On History (2001), p.66
  6. Thomas G. Paterson, Karen Ordahl Kupperman, Major Problems in American Colonial History (1999), p. 4
  7. Salisbury. N, ‘The Indians’ Old World’ in Major Problems in American Indian History (1993), p. 30
  8. ‘Baron Lahontan Describes Love and Marriage Among the Hurons’ (1703), in Major Problems in the History of American Sexuality (2001), p.30
  9. John Elliott, Empires of the Atlantic World (2006), p. 65
  10. Eric Hobsbawm, ‘From Social History to the History of Society’ in Historical Studies Today (1971), Vol. 100, No. 1, p. 35
  11. Eric Hobsbawm, ‘From Social History to the History of Society’ in Historical Studies Today (1971), Vol. 100, No. 1, p. 37
  12. ‘Brian Simons: Teacher’ in Working Lives: Volume 2: Hackney 1945 – 1947 (1977), p 169
  13. Ibid, p 192
  14. Peter Burke, History and Social Theory (1992), p. 52
  15. Tim Hitchcock, ‘A New History from Below’ in History Workshop Journal (2001), Vol. 57, No. 1, p. 294
  16. Patrick Joyce, ‘The End of Social History?’ in Social History (1995), Vol. 20, No. 1, p. 76
  17. Eric Hobsbawm, ‘From Social History to the History of Society’ in Historical Studies Today (1971), Vol. 100, No. 1, p. 22
  18. Peter Burke, History and Social Theory (1992), p. 59

“Restoration is a lie from beginning to end” – Restoring Heritage

“The partly-perished work of the ancient craftsmaster has been made neat and smooth by the tricky hand of some unoriginal thoughtless hack of today” – William Morris, The Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings (1877)(1)

The deterioration of our physical and monumental heritage creates a very visible problem in today’s heritage industry. For any heritage in a state of decline there are four possible courses of future action: restoration, de-restoration, conservation, and inaction.

Monuments or artefacts having national symbolic value; in continuing function or re-use; important for education or research; of use for tourism promotion; and where site preservation is important are all posited(2). The booming heritage tourism industry proves that the public have a great interest in heritage, so should they be deprived of aesthetically pleasing (and historically accurate) interactions for the sake of the ethics of restoration?

John Ruskin stated that restoration is a “lie from beginning to end”, that “it means the total destruction which a building can suffer… accompanied with a false description of the thing destroyed”(3). The topic of restoration has caused much, often polarised, debate. Nicholas Stanley-Price has also argued against reconstruction on various grounds – the evocative value of ruined buildings; the difficulty, nay impossibility, of achieving authenticity; the ethical issue of conveying erroneous information that can then mislead and be reproduced; the destruction of original evidence; the disruption of landscape values; distorted site interpretation where elements of sites with long history are obscured if they are reconstructed to feature a single period; and finally the associated financial burden(4). Restoration is also undoubtedly a subjective action; those who restore or design restorations have the ability impose an ideological, historical or personal focus.

The restoration of Kenwood House is an example of restoration for the benefit of function. Kenwood House was left to the nation by Lord Iveagh in 1927. Much of the original paintwork has been restored through stripping and the structure has been repaired for safety(5). In this case the restoration acted as rehabilitation for the mansion, not so much a ‘lie’ as ‘sprucing up’ – something that would have been expected to happen in the normal “life” of the building when originally constructed.

Montage of St. Michael's Mount, Cornwall

Montage of St. Michael’s Mount, Cornwall

A recent visit to St. Michael’s Mount, the tidal island off the Cornish coast highlighted the current restoration problem. The site, run by the National Trust, is comprised of a small fishing village, a set of gardens, and a medieval castle and abbey. It is a beautiful island to explore, with endless cobbled warrens and historical portraits. Yet, inspection of the castle and abbey shows the less than subtle restoration of parts of the building. Whilst it is the facade that has been restored (as shown in the below picture) it plainly looks out of place. Camillo Boito advocates conservation over restoration, and any intervention should be kept to an absolute minimum. Boito is particularly against ‘stylistic reconstruction’ and argued that any new construction (when completely necessary) should be “visually different from the original material”(6). The use of a contrasting stone type causes the restoration to be incredibly obvious, however it lacks any explanatory context as to why it was restored in the first place.

The Chevy Chase frieze highlights another problem with the building’s restoration. St Michael’s Mount is still an inhabited house, and displays rooms done in Victorian, Edwardian, Medieval, and modern styles. The Chevy Chase frieze was accompanied by an explanation – “Specialist conservators…are undertaking a full survey of the frieze that will advise on long-term restoration and conservation plans specifically looking at stabilising the original plaster work and restoration of the figures and paintwork”. This implies that despite centuries of occupancy after the creation of the frieze, there is still a desire to de-restore the room to one specific era; which effectively ignores any history post-17th Century. This highlights that both creators and visitors prioritise older history, often at the expense of newer heritage.

The role of restoration and conservation is to keep heritage accessible. These institutions have a responsibility to visitors, so it cannot always be about what the institutions want to show, but what the public want to see. Camillo Boito’s views echo a Japanese phrase – ‘Kintsukuroi’, which means to repair with gold. It is the act of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer to highlight that the piece is more beautiful for being broken. In this sense, restoration should be used to highlight that the building has experienced decay and that the restored section is purely an interpretation. Any building or monument has had a ‘life’ and a representation should reflect that.

‘Kintsukuroi’ - To repair with gold. The act of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer to highlight that the piece is more beautiful for being broken

‘Kintsukuroi’ – To repair with gold. The act of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer to highlight that the piece is more beautiful for being broken

History is becoming increasingly as much about enjoyability as it is about accuracy, as David Lowenthal puts it – “In the public view, plausibility is as good as the truth, and historians are worthy of their heritage hire”. Heritage is personal history and leaving monuments and artefacts to decay shows a lack of humanity: heritage needs to be preserved, however restoration is ultimately a lie, and a fabrication. Viewers should enjoy the full history of an object, as Alïos Riegl summarises – “The modern viewer of old monuments receives aesthetic satisfaction not from the status of preservation but from the continuous and unceasing cycle of change in nature”.

Ginny Dawe-Woodings, BA History

(1) William Morris, ‘Manifesto of the Society for the protection of Ancient Buildings (SPAB), (www.marxists.org/archive/morris/works, accessed 23rd November 2013)
(2) Nicholas Stanley-Price, ‘The Reconstruction of Ruins: Principles and Practise’ in Conservation: Principles, Dilemmas and Uncomfortable Truths (2009), p. 35-37
(3) Nicholas Stanley Price, Mansfield Kirby Talley, Alessandra Melucco Vaccaro, Historical and Philosophical Issues in the Conservation of Cultural Heritage (1996), p. 269
(4) Nicholas Stanley-Price, ‘The Reconstruction of Ruins: Principles and Practise’ in Conservation: Principles, Dilemmas and Uncomfortable Truths (2009), p. 37-40
(5) Maev Kennedy, ‘Priceless art collection reopens after restoration of Kenwood House’, The Guardian, 26th November 2013 (www.theguardian.com, accessed 26th November 2013)
(6) Ascensión Hernández Martinez, ‘Conservation and Restoration in Built Heritage: A Western European Perspective’ in Brian J. Graham, Peter Howard, The Ashgate Research Companion to Heritage and Identity (2008), p. 249
(7) Nicholas Stanley Price, Mansfield Kirby Talley, Alessandra Melucco Vaccaro, Historical and Philosophical Issues in the Conservation of Cultural Heritage (1996), p. 73

Iraq’s Cultural Heritage in Crisis

 

U.S. Army soldiers from 1st Squadron, 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment provide security for a provincial reconstruction team and representatives of the United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization as they visit the ancient city of Ashur in Iraq on Nov. 21, 2008

U.S. Army soldiers from 1st Squadron, 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment provide security for a provincial reconstruction team and representatives of the United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization as they visit the ancient city of Ashur in Iraq on Nov. 21, 2008

With conflicts and crises come casualties. More than often they are human beings, and whilst the loss of life is not comparable to the loss of heritage, the loss of heritage can be just as devastating. The current crisis of ISIS militants overrunning cities and provinces in Iraq poses a serious threat to the heritage of the country. The militants have threatened to destroy monuments, graves, and other cultural heritage that contradicts their extremist views(1).

Having a celebrated iron and bronze age archeological history; the ‘cradle of civilisation’, in the 7th Century [the territories that now form the country of] Iraq became the centre of the Islamic Golden Age, which enhanced the artistic, scientific, and philosophic culture of the region. The region has absorbed external cultures, feeding off neighbours in Asia and the Middle East. Centuries of progress and adulterating from external sources has created the amalgamation of cultures that represents Iraqi cultural heritage in the 21st Century. However, all of this is now under direct threat.

In times of conflict cultural heritage becomes particularly valuable but also particularly vulnerable. As a 2013 report by the BIICL highlighted, “Cultural property reflects the life, history and identity of the community, its preservation helps to rebuild a broken community, re-establish its identity, and link its past with its present and future”(2).

The destruction of material is often a result of collateral or accidental damage, but sometimes it can be a coordinated effort carried out for sinister purposes. Hostility over nationalism, identity, borders, and history has driven nations and organisations to remove and destroy material they believe to have a disputed claim to: during the First Gulf war, Iraqi bureaucrats looted the Kuwait public collections and National Archives, making off with critical documents(3). There is also evidence suggesting that during the Second World War, the Nazi Reichsleiter Rosenberg Taskforce, which was dedicated to the forced removal of artefacts, was also acting to confiscate material which the Germans believed was culturally theirs and had been stolen from them in previous wars.

Preventing destruction of cultural heritage during a conflict is often easier when the conflict is between two warring nations where supra-national institutions can mediate, as opposed to a civil war where sides cannot be so easily distinguished. Iraq knows all to well the consequences of armed confrontation and their monuments. Following the US invasion of Iraq in March 2003, and the entering of Baghdad in April 2004, monuments became direct participants in the conflict. There were warnings, as early as January 2003, about the implications for heritage, but the US Department of Defence only protected the Ministry of Oil, the Palestine Hotel, the airport, and other militarily strategic locations(4), demonstrating the constant prioritising of military success over other interests. However, despite the failure of the protective measures, there is now at least a feeling of culpability for the consequences of these failures. This scenario was governed by several factors: the moral responsibility of the invading forces to global heritage; the responsibility of the invading forces to a higher institution, in the form of the UN; and also the rational and secular nature of the invasion. In the current scenario though, ISIS holds themselves responsible to nobody.

Protecting cultural heritage in any circumstance is a difficult task: justifying intervention during peace time is controversial enough but the chaotic circumstances of war often mean that a blanket policy for protecting cultural heritage becomes impossible.

Institutionalism has proven effective, not necessarily as a preventative or protective measure, but definitely as a means of monitoring and analysing the risks associated with cultural heritage in conflict. The Syrian crisis is a strong and recent example, similar to what might occur in Iraq. ICOMOS has been involved with the Syrian conflict and stated that they are “permanently and neutrally monitoring the situation of cultural heritage sites and is in contact with experts from the region(5).” This creates a system for precedence but also a usable system that can lead to preventative and recovery measures too. Director General of UNESCO Irina Bokova has expressed a fear that the events of 2003 will be repeated. Bokova has appealed on an individual level for Iraqi leaders and citizens to protect their cultural heritage, but has also proposed assistance from UNESCO(6).

Spiral minaret at Abu Dulaf

Spiral minaret at Abu Dulaf

Crises such as what is occurring in Iraq create an interesting debate: who is responsible for protecting cultural heritage? The global community, an institution, a government, an NGO, or the individual? Bokova’s comments and ICOMOS’s actions suggests that the motivation should be a bottom up process. It needs the people of Iraq to want to protect and preserve their heritage, at which point institutions and then perhaps greater intervention can be made, but only if necessary.

Wars though are rarely fought over the protection of monuments, endangered people or assets are much better motivators for action.

Painfully, a google search for ‘iraqi heritage’ now returns images of explosions and ruins, and not the glorious monuments that should define Iraq as a country. It would be a devastating loss if ISIS’s goals of monument and shrine destruction were to come to fruition. This of course is a perspective that comes of living in a society where it is possible to dedicate time and resources to the appreciation and protection of monuments. Iraq at present does not have this luxury.

Some recent pictures showing the demolition of religious monuments and shrines:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-28177841

Ginny Dawe-Woodings, BA History

(1) Matt Bradley, ‘Iraq Conflict Menages Heritage Sites’ in the Wall Street Journal, (27th June 2014), (http://online.wsj.com/articles/iraq-conflict-menaces-heritage-sites-1403901541, accessed 28th June 2014)
(2) British Institute of International and Comparative Law, ‘The Protection of Cultural Heritage in Conflict, Seminar Report’, (23rd April 2013), p. 3
(3) Rebecca Knuth, Burning Books and Levelling Libraries, (Praeger Publishing, 2006), p. 184
(4) Sanja Zgonjanin, ‘The Prosecution of War Crimes for the Destruction of Libraries and Archives during Times of Armed Conflict’ in Libraries & Culture, (University of Texas Press, 2005), Vol. 40, No. 2, p. 140
(5) ‘Protection of Syria’s Cultural Heritage in Times of Armed Conflict: ICOMOS – ICCROM’ in ICORP International Committee on Risk Preparedness, (http://icorp.icomos.org/index.php/news/40-protection-of-syria-s-cultural-heritage-in-times-of-armed-conflict-icomos-iccrom-e-learning-course-for-syrian-cultural-heritage-professionals, accessed 28th June 2014)
(6) ‘Iraqis Urged to Protect Cultural Heritage’ in RTT News, (17th June 2014), (http://www.rttnews.com/2338254/iraqis-urged-to-protect-cultural-heritage.aspx, accessed 28th June 2014)