| The bulldozer is recognized as a participant in the artistic process Yesterday, the artistic community and the State Center for Contemporary Art celebrated a significant anniversary: exactly thirty years ago, on September 15, 1974, on the outskirts of Moscow, in Belyaev, the most famous exhibition in modern Russian history took place - “bulldozer”, organized by the artist, leader of the “Lianozov group” "Oscar Rabin and a poet with a great social temperament, Alexander Glezer.
Neither the revolutionary upheavals in art at the beginning of the century, nor the huge exhibitions of Stalin’s times that could not fit in any museum, nor the scandalous actions of the end of the 20th century could sound like this - to the whole world. And even break into high politics. The heroic-tragic story about cars (bulldozers are best remembered, but there were others) that attacked living people with paintings remained in the memory and in a number of photographs. There are almost no paintings left from that action - those that were not destroyed were burned or damaged by watering machines. Their authors also suffered from the “indignant workers” who, as luck would have it, gathered in the same place at the same hour to hold a peaceful cleanup day. The coverage of the ideological confrontation was perfectly organized (a rarity for any history, especially Soviet). Many foreign journalists received invitations “to the first autumn viewing of paintings in the open air.” The most active ones paid with their faces and cameras intact, but they brought the equally sad and absurd story to the world community. Then the ideologists began to count the wounds and quickly realized that in the light of high politics, the insolent people would have to be forgiven, and the display of their works would be allowed - in a place corresponding to the low status of such art. Already on September 29, the exhibition opened in Izmailovo, and a few months later - in the “Beekeeping” pavilion at VDNKh. Unofficial creativity received the right to a semi-official existence, and the public pressed in lines to see new art.
Thirty years later, at the NCCA, the photographs were placed in display cases and hung on the walls. A witness to the event, critic Vitaly Patsyukov, shared his memories. Historical optimism was added with the presentation of the new building of the NCCA. The continuity was marked with a monument to a bulldozer. A full-fledged participant in the memorable event, who has long been ready to reckon with the glory of risky artists, is represented by a natural, slightly rusty ladle. They also placed flowers with him, significantly neglecting the living participants in the events. Of which there were exactly two. Because some are no longer there, and those are far away: the spectacular victory over the Soviet regime turned out to be a hoped-for emigration for some, and an emigration that was not at all planned for others, where luck smiled on very few. At the walls of the NCCA and the ladle monument, the expansive Mikhail Roshal in a red T-shirt and the modest Sergei Bordachev in a formal suit took the rap for all the participants in the glorious insertion. Their appearance alone testifies to the fact that the company was more than motley. Roshal is still ready for heroic deeds (he just burned a bus on the Klyazma in the anti-terrorist frenzy), and Bordachev, almost imperceptibly for those around him in the silence of the workshop, confronts realistic art with unrealistic ones. People who were completely different were brought together by purely aesthetic differences with the unanimity established in the Soviet Union. Only by violating the purity of the latter could a strong state be hindered by a not at all anti-Soviet - just a free - exhibition. Only thanks to the absurd and too powerful opposition of the authorities, it received a powerful resonance and worldwide fame. Included in Russian art history. Even despite the fact that after only three decades (what are they for History!) the names of the majority of its participants are almost forgotten - only a few have achieved real success. But in Russia, things are only strong when it comes to blood—the artist Oskar Rabin was literally pulled out from under the knife. Exhibitions of art alternative to conventional realism were allowed - and crowds of thousands of people went to them, such as are now unthinkable at any presentation of contemporary art. However, if the political authorities had not needed urgent reconciliation and the signing of important agreements at the highest level, it is still unknown what would have come out of this venture. Faina BALAKHOVSKAYA |
|