After a Rain.
1879. Oil on canvas. The Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.
|
Probably realizing the insufficiency of a merely poetic evocation of the world portrayed, a world whose fascination he increasingly unveiled, Kuindzhi
changed his creative orientation.
From his critically charged works he abruptly turned to «pure poetry», focusing on the enchantment of natural scenery. Moreover, the images of Kuindzhi's works acquired a distinctly romantic colouring. Already in his Ukrainian Night (1876) the folk background of his world outlook became evident, although its somewhat simplified idiom gave the picture a look of naive expressiveness.
The Russian democratic art of the 1870s and 1880s was marked by a specific vision of the world, which was viewed as if through the eyes of the common man. That was a principally novel attitude towards reality, devoid of exoticism characteristic of earlier romantic efforts. In the Ukrainian Night the world is perceived as a blessed land bestowing a variety of beautiful impressions upon man. The motif of a naive world perception, seemingly confirmed by the prosaic, narrative subject, betrays Kuindzhi
as the artist striving to capture the national ideal of beauty. In this painting Kuindzhi
for the first time used complementary colours, thus irrevocably breaking with the tonal palette of his predecessors. He boldly used the priming as part of his colour scheme and highlighted the deep blue darkness of a night by the faery spots of whitewashed peasant houses.
Starting with the Ukrainian Night, romanticism in Kuindzhi's work entered a principally new phase. He resolutely abandoned the epigonous academic romanticism of his early efforts to enter a period of an innovatory romantic art in which a resplendent decorativeness based on new plastic achievements came to the fore. Exhibited at the Paris World Fair in 1878, the Ukrainian Night attracted the attention of the eminent French critics P. Nanz, E. Duranty and J. Claretti.
|
|
Afanasiy Fet
My face turned upwards to the sky…
1857
My face turned upwards to the sky
One summer night I lay upon some hay
A lively close-knit starry chorus
Was flickering all around.
The mute earth, nebulous and dreamlike,
Rushed off without a trace
And I, like Eden's first inhabitant,
Faced night's gaze all alone.
Was it I hurtling into midnight's depths
Or was it crowds of stars that hurtled toward me?
It seemed as if a mighty palm
Held me suspended over the abyss.
And with a heart confused and stunned
I cast my gaze into the depths,
Whence sinking every moment deeper,
I never will return.
|
