Mikhail Alexandrovich Vrubel
(1856-1910)
Vrubel was a man of extremely versatile talent. He was renowned as a
master of monumental murals, easel painting and theatrical scenery, as
a graphic artist, a sculptor and even as an architect. And in every sphere
he produced firstclass work. 'Vrubel expressed his thoughts perfectly,
'wrote Alexander Golovin. 'There was an unerring quality about everything
he did.'
Even among the brilliant artists of the turn of the century Vrubel stands
out because of the originality, uniqueness even, of his art. His originality
of thought and novelty of form often prevented his work from being properly
understood, and the sensitive artist was sorely wounded by the unjust criticism
of some of his contemporaries. 'What a long-suffering life he had,' recalled
Ilya Repin, 'and yet, what pearls his genius produced.'
Vrubel was the son of a military lawyer in Omsk. His father had a benevolent
attitude towards his enthusiasm for painting. During a short stay in St.
Petersburg Vrubel attended the Drawing School and was a frequent visitor
to the Hermitage. After leaving the grammar school in Odessa, where he
had studied literature, history, German, French and Latin, Vrubel passed
the entrance examinations for the St. Petersburg University, and in 1879
he graduated
from the Law Faculty.
By this time the future artist had firmly decided to devote his life
to art, and in 1880 he entered the Academy of Arts where he studied under
Pavel Chistyakov. He was a keen hardworking student. 'You cannot imagine,'he
wrote to his sister, 'how completely immersed I am in art: I just can't
take in any ideas that are unconnected with art.'
One of the best of Vrubel's student works was the water-colour *Mary's
Betrothal to Joseph* (1881, RM). The composition recalls Raphael's picture
on the same subject, and one can also perceive the influence of Alexander
Ivanov's Biblical etudes, though both the compositional structure and movement
of the figures is more dynamic.
In the autumn of 1883 Vrubel rented a studio for independent work. Here
he painted the water-colour *Girl in Renaissance Surroundings* (State Museum
of Rassian Art, Kiev) which demonstrated his ability to convey a wide variety
of material forms and shades of colour.
While still at the Academy of Arts, Vrubel began to take an interest
in universal, philosophical subjects, and he was attracted to strong
rebellious, often tragic individuals. Symptomatically, his first oil-painting
was based on Shakespeare: *Hamlet and Ophelia* (1884, RM).
In April 1884 Vrubel left the Academy and looked up the offer of the
well-known art critic A. Prakhov to go to Kiev and help restore the ancient
murals of St.Cyril's Church. Vrubel restored 150 fragments of frescos and
produced four new compositions where the originals were lost. Apart from
the frescos he also painted four icons. On these he worked in Venice, where
he went to study early Renaissance art. The best of the icons— *The Mother
of God* (1885, State Museum of Russian Art, Kiev)—is a tender but sad womanly
image of a mother who has a presentiment of her son's tragic fate.
The finest achievement of Vrubel's Kiev period, however, was his water-colour
studies for murals in St. Vladimir's Cathedral (1887, State Museum of Russian
Art, Kiev). By working in St. Cyril's Church and studying the frescos of
St. Sophia's Cathedral, the artist came to understand the essence of the
great monumental art of ancient Rus, and the Vladimir studies clearly show
the link between Vrubel's work and the ancient heritage, which suited both
his
talent and his frame of mind. They include the noble Resurrection,
the radiant Angel with Censer and Candle, and, finally, the shattering
tragic Mourning. In this last work, Mary stands with wide tearful
eyes, overwhelmed by suffering, over her son's grave. The extent of her
sorrow is brought out by the solemn rhythm of the folds in her clothes,
by the severe lines, the simplicity of the colour relations and the laconic
composition. In Mourning—an altogether unique work in world art—Vrubel
successfully brought together the harmony and monumental stature of early
art, and an expression of the feelings of contemporary man.
Vrubel did not manage to turn these studies into actual murals; his
part in the decoration of the Cathedral was limited to producing some fanciful
ornaments, but this too he did with great enthusiasm and imagination. In
the words of the artist Nesterov, Vrubel was 'innocently absent from our
planet, wrapped up in his visions; and these visions, when they visited
him, were not his guests for long, but gave place to new dreams and new
images, hitherto unheard of, unexpected and unconjectured -the wonderful
fantasies of a marvellous artist from another world'.
In 1889 Vrubel left Kiev for Moscow, and this was the start of his most
fruitful period. He received several commissions for decorative panels,
one of which—*Venice* (1893, RM)—embodied his impressions of a trip to
Italy in 1891-92. The Renaissance city is shown in all the magnificence
of a splendid carnival procession.
The subject of the picture entitled *Spain* (1894, TG) may be connected
with the opera *Carmen*, which Vrubel loved and considered an epoch-making
piece of music.The agitation of the characters, the intensity of the colours
and the flood of scorching sunlight arouse a sense of conflict and drama;
we see a country which is full of life, where emotions bubble and both
love und hate are strong. In a somewhat similar theme is *The Fortune-Teller*
(1895, TG), a deeply psychological work. Vrubel brilliantly highlights
the face against the lilac and rose-coloured sheen of the carpet and silks.
The fortune-teller's eyes stare fixedly, as though she has divined some
terrible secret of the future.
In this period Vrubel painted many portraits, constantly employing new
devices. In his portrait of the writer *K. Artsybushev* (1897, TG) there
is a sense of calm and balance; the contrasts of compositional rhythms,
details and colour in his portrait of *Savva Mamontov* (1897,TG) make for
a poignant image in which the titanic borders on the helpless.
Vrubel's love of music led him to Mamontov's private opera house, where
he met Rimsky-Korsakov and designed productions of his operas *The Tsar's
Bride* and *The Tale of the Tsar Saltan*. Of the architectural projects
in which he was then engaged, only one was realized—an annex to Mamontov's
house in Moscow. At Abramtsevo Vrubel ran the ceramics workshop and produced
a series of unusual majolica sculptures on fairy-tale subjects.
Abramtsevo stimulated many of Vrubel's artistic searchings. Here he
developed an interest in national traditions and folk art. In a letter
to his sister, he says: 'I am at Abramtsevo at the moment and again I can
feel, or rather, hear that intimate a national note which I would so love
to capture on canvas or in an ornament. It is the music of an integrated
man, not fractured by the abstractions of the regulated differentiated
pale West.'
Vrubel found the 'music of an integrated man' in Russian folklore, which
he treated again and again in his work of the Nineties. It was not a case
of illustrating particular epic tales and fairy stories, however; the artist
strove to understand the conception which his forefathers had of man and
nature, to look at the world through their eyes.
Vrubel's *Bogatyr* (1898, RM) is born of surrounding nature, which gives
the Herculean figure grandeur and might.
In the picture Pan (1899, TG) the Greek god is transformed into a Russian
wood-demon. Old and wrinkled, with fathomless blue eyes and gnarled fingers,
he almost seems to grow out of the moss-grown tree-stump. Fantastic bewitching
shades are used for the typical Russian landscape—expansive wet meadows,
a winding stream, slender birches caught in the silence of the falling
twilight and tinged by the glow of the horned moon. A harmonious combination
of the fantastic and the real can also be seen in *The Swan Princess* (
1900, TG). The composition is so constructed as to give the impression
of glancing into a fairy-tale world where a magic swan-maiden has just
appeared and is about to disappear again, floating away towards a distant
mysterious shore. The last beams of sunshine play on her snowy white feathers,
producing a rainbow of colours. The maiden is turning, her delicate face
looks sad, and there is a mysterious mixture of melancholy and loneliness
in her eyes. The Swan Princess is one of Vrubel's most enticing and heartfelt
feminine images.
The artist's fervent love of nature helped him to convey its beauty.
The luxuriant clusters of lilac in the painting *Lilac* (1900, TG) are
alive and fragrant in the starlit night. One of Vrubel's contemporaries
wrote that nature blinded him (the artist did indeed go blind near the
end of his life) because he looked too closely at its secrets.
Throughout the Nineties Vrubel worked on the image of the Demon. In
a letter to his father the artist expressed his conception of the Demon:
'The Demon is not so much an evil spirit as a suffering, sorrowful one,
and at the same time an imperious majestic one.' His first attempt to treat
the subject was in 1885, but the artist destroyed this work.
In the picture *Seated Demon* (1890, TG) the young Titan is depicted
on a clifftop in the sunset. His fine powerful body seems almost too big
for the picture; he wrings his hands; his face is touchingly handsome;
and his eyes express inhuman sorrow. Vrubel's Demon is a union of opposites:
beauty, majesty, strength, and constraint, helplessness and yearning. He
is surrounded by a fabulous, beautiful, yet petrified and cold world. The
picture's colouring is also full of contrasts: a cold lilac is in 'combat'
with a warm golden-orange. The rocks, the flowers and the figure are painted
in a peculiar Vrubelesque manner: the artist seems to hew the shapes from
a block, creating an impression of a world composed of precious stones.
There is a sense of primordiality about the picture.
While thinking in fantastic imagery, Vrubel was firmly rooted in reality,
and his Demon was profoundly modern, reflecting not only the artist's personal
emotional states but also the age itself with its contrasts and contradictions.
As the poet Alexander Blok wrote, 'Vrubel's Demon is a symbol of our times,
neither night nor day, neither dark nor light.'
In 1891 Vrubel did the illustrations for a jubilee edition of Mikhail
Lermontov's works, edited by Konchalovsky. Of thirty illustrations half
of them refer to Lermontov's Demon. In fact, these are all works of art
in their own right, important in the history of Russian book illustrations,
and demonstrate Vrubel's profound comprehension of Lermontov's poetry.
Particularly noteworthy is the monumental watercolor *Head of the Demon*.
Against a background of stony and snow-covered mountaintops is a close-up
head, with black hair and a pale face: the lips are parched, the eyes burning
and penetrating; this gaze is full of unbearable torment, it expresses
a thirst for knowledge and freedom, the rebellious spirit of doubt. Some
years later Vrubel painted *Flying Demon* (1899, RM)—a sombre picture,
full of a foreboding of ruin and doom.
Finally, in 1901-02, appeared the last picture: *The Demon Prostrated*,
on wich Vrubel worked intensively and painstakingly. Alexander Benois recalled
that the painting already appeared at the 'World of Art' Exhibition in
1902, but Vrubel continued to work on the face of the Demon, altering the
colouring.
The broken, deformed body of the Demon, his wings fractured, is flung
out in a gorge, and his eyes burn with fury. It is dusk and the last sunray
flashes on the Demon's crown and on the mountain-tops. The spirit of rebellion
is overthrown, but not crushed.
At the time people saw the element of protest, a symbol of a beautiful
unsubdued man in this image. Remember the words of Alexander Blok: What
of moments of powerlessness! Time is a gossamer haze! We shall unfurl our
wings on ore, And again we shall take to the skies!...
And Chaliapin said, somewhat later: 'What Demons he painted!—strong,
terrible, dreadful and irresistible... My Demon comes from Vrubel.'
Shortly after finishing his *Demon Prostrated*, Mikhail Vrubel fell
seriously ill and was admitted to hospital. His illness lasted almost continuously
until 1904, when he made a short-lived recovery.
In 1904 he went to St. Petersburg. Now the last period in his work began.
That year Vrubel painted *Six-Winged Seraph*, which is linked thematically
with Pushkin's poem *The Prophet*. To some extent, the mighty angel with
his shining opalescent plumage continues the theme of the Demon, but this
image is integrated and harmonious.
In 1904 Vrubel painted one of his most tender, fragile images—*Portrait
of N. Zabela with Birch-Trees* (RM). It was also at this time that his
interesting self-portraits were painted.
From 1905 onwards the artist was confined to the hospital, but he carried
on working, proving to be a marvellous graphic-artist. He drew various
hospital scenes, portraits of doctors and landscapes. His drawings show
a variety of styles, and are keenly perceptive and full of emotional power.
Doctor Usoltsev, who was treating Vrubel, wrote: 'He was a creative artist
through and through in every recess of his psyche. He created constantly,
and creation was for him as easy and as necessary as breathing. So long
as a man lives, he breathes; so long as Vrubel breathed, he created.'
A few years before his death Vrubel began painting a portrait of the
poet *Valery Bryusov* (1906, RM). Bryusov later wrote that he tried all
his life to resemble that portrait. But Vrubel never completed the work;
in 1906 he went blind. It was a tragic blow, and in the heavy hospital
atmosphere the artist dreamt of the blue of the sky over dark fields and
of the colours of spring. His love of music was his only consolation. Vrubel
died on 1 April 1910.
The work of this artist was a heartfelt protest against evil. Even his
tragic images contain a bright, noble element. The struggle of light and
darkness—such is the content of most of Vrubel's works. Alexander Blok
spoke of this eloquently at the artists grave: 'Vrubel came to us as a
messenger to tell us that the violet night is sprinkled with the gold of
a clear evening. He left us his Demons to exorcise the violet evil and
the night. What Vrubel and those like him reveal to mankind once a century,
make me tremble with awe.'
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