Just when you think the August doldrums are upon you and local art cupboards are bare, along comes something so jaw-droppingly marvelous that you're stopped dead in your tracks. For at least a year I've walked past the Fedulov Gallery in Old City, which seems to exist as a clearing house for modern Russian art-the type that doesn't go in for pseudo-photographic salutes to fat cattle and red tractors. I'd always planned to stop in some time, but either the door was locked or I was in a rush. So I never ventured across its threshold until Eduard Anikonov pulled me in with his audacious, shimmering old-yet-new visions.
This month the gallery's entire upper level is given over to Eduard Anikonov's work (26 pieces are on display) . Anikonov is a native of St. Petersburg, Russia-and his work is as Russian as a long line of Russian masters could inspire. His painting owes plenty to Mikhail Vrubel, an amazing visionary and an exciting technician to boot, whose name unfortunately goes unrecognized even in these Symbolist-friendly times when art lovers are learning to appreciate the Schwabs and Delvilles of the fin-de-sie'cle period. To those who don't know Vrubel, I can only say: It's your loss.
Anikonov also displays a bit of Bakst and Somov. He's, rooted firmly in a tradition that even 70 years of Communist ideology couldn't wipe out. Anikonov is a painter of legends and marvels. Sirens and harlequins, temptresses and knights all find a home in his universe. But there's nothing quaint, nothing consciously archaic in what he presents. His loose, expressionistic brush work and bold palette of colors give his work a pleasingly "modern" feel and prevent its content from becoming over-precious.
He's got his artistic smarts. Sometimes, as with "The Kidnapping of Europa" or "Judith," Anikonov will effect the languorous decadence of Gustav Klimt-a non-Russian, to be sure, but as much a genius of Symbolism as Vrubel in the sense of bequeathing a new visual vocabulary to his heirs. At other times, Anikonov seems more the conscious folk artist. "Fishermen," with its faux-naive division of the canvas into realms of water and sky, and "King of Rain," with its echoes of Jessie M. King, Charles Rennie Mackintosh and the "Glasgow School," both seem to derive from tales that the artist might have heard or read as a child.
"Swimmer" is perhaps the best piece on display; a rose-tinted dream of elegant refinement, just rough enough around the edges to keep it from seeming hopelessly old-fashioned.
All of which is to say that Eduard Anikonov is far from a fugitive from an art-school time capsule. Rather, he is one of those artists like Ursula Sternberg who are able to breathe new life into old traditions. Symbolism is as alive as Surrealism, Expressionism or Impressionism-as long as it inspires even a handful of gifted artists to use its visual syntax in their explorations of the world.
Eduard Anikonov's paintings will only be on display until August 30th, so I urge you to beat a path to the Fedulov Gallery's door. See these paintings!
In the gallery's basement level, works by other artists represented by Fedulov can be viewed. These, I assume, change from month to month. On my visit, I was impressed by several small, moody Impressionist oils by V. I. Teniaev. "Clouds" and "October" were my favorites, but "Ruins" was also quite good.
It's probably a good idea to call ahead to be certain the gallery is open.
