Art and Faith

Sunday, 2 May 2010

Dmitri Shmarin. The Ice March. 2008

00 Dmitri Shmarin. The Ice March. 2008

The Ice March

Dmitri Shmarin


Sunday, 21 September 2008

Konstantin Makovsky. Bulgarian Martyrs. 1877

Konstantin Makovsky. Bulgarian Martyrs. 1877

Bulgarian Martyrs

Konstantin Makovsky



Such events as those pictured in the painting did occur in the Ottoman-ruled Balkans. The worst of the Ottoman bullyboys were the Albanians, who had a reputation for cruelty, barbarity, and rapine, yet, they often showed cowardice in open battle. Not much has changed in that regard, has it? The locals welcomed the Russian troops as liberators from Turkish oppression wherever they went. The ordinary people of the Balkans have never forgotten that the Russians freed them from slavery. Only small minorities of the so-called local élites support the USA and its militant nihilism. The vast majority of Balkan people still support Russia and Orthodoxy. NATO had best not count on any of its Balkan members; they’re in for a rude surprise…


Tuesday, 6 November 2007

Dmitri Belyukin. White Russia in Exile. 1991-94

00 Dmitri Belyukin. White Russia in Exile. 1991-94

White Russia in Exile

Dmitri Belyukin



The time is 1920… or is it 1921? The last remnants of the White armies and their families are fleeing Russia ahead of the advancing Bolsheviks. Most Whites in the western regions crossed overland into the Baltic states and Finland, and many of these exiles go on to Berlin, Paris, Prague, Sofia, and Belgrade. Yet others crossed from Siberia over the Amur and Ussuri Rivers into China. However, in the south most fled by sea (also, some of those fleeing from Siberia did so by ship). Is this a ship sailing from Vladivostok… or is it Sevastopol or Novorossisk? Perhaps, such a detail doesn’t matter. One can’t even tell if it’s a naval or mercantile craft. True, one sees the double-headed eagle crest, but there aren’t any indications of either cargo booms or gun positions. Indeed, one can’t even tell if the people are on the bow or stern of the ship. I believe that it was the artist’s intention to keep certain details vague, so that his painting could be a metaphor for all White Russian émigrés whatever their destination. Are they sailing to Shanghai…or is it Bizerte (where the French interned the White fleet)… or is it Istanbul… or could it be Tientsin? That, too, is immaterial. What’s important is the fact that this is their last experience as Russians in a Russian milieu. They’re going into a future that has none of the verities of the past. True, some of the wealthier ones have Paris apartments that they can live in. The rest… God alone knows. There’s one thing for certain. They’ll endeavour to keep the flame of their patriotism and faith burning in a strange land amongst strangers. They won’t allow the idea of “Russia” to die or be smothered by assimilation. For us Russian-Americans, these are our honoured forebears who passed the torch on to us. We won’t allow it to be extinguished.

Look at the all the variegated figures in the picture. My Nicky believes that the most forlorn figure is the old monk in the left foreground. He’s lost everything. He’s lost his monastery, perhaps, he’s lost his monastic brethren as well (they may have died in the Civil War). He’s of an age that makes it difficult to start afresh. His eyes focus on the distance, trying to make sense of all that has occurred to himself, his homeland, and his religious commitment. If you look in the centre of the painting, you’ll see a tall officer wearing a red hat (which signified that he was one of the Kornilovtsy, the troops under Kornilov). Nicky said, “He isn’t going to drive a taxicab. He’s going to work his connections and finagle something for himself”. The woman standing to his right wearing the shawl is probably his wife. She’s going to do well, thank you very much, for she has as few scruples as her husband does. The woman sitting in front of the red-hatted officer is another story. She appears to be of good family, and her appearance suggests that she’s a war widow, alone in the world. She fears what’s ahead for her. How shall she survive? Note the priest standing by the mast. He is in his epitrakhil, which means that he’s ready to hear confessions at any time. Nicky said that he was the luckiest one of the lot. “He’s a priest; there’ll always be something for him to do. He’ll be busy with his parish. He’ll do OK”. Look at the tall figure in the right foreground in the grey greatcoat. He appears to be focused inward, meditating on his future and his priorities. My thought is that he’s composing himself prior to going to confession. He’s a man forced to look at himself plainly and without equivocation, and he isn’t flinching. There’s so much in this painting that it’s impossible to do it justice in this format. Yet, I believe that this shall give many of you the background necessary to fully appreciate the tragedy, grandeur, and depth of this work. Belyukin has since been elected to the Russian Academy of Fine Arts, and a deserved honour it is, indeed.


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