International studio (52.1914)

Russian Art and American

reproduction of thought, life or emotion can but
admire Repin’s work. His industry also entitles
him to his rank. He made one hundred sketches
for the Cossacks, and painted three duplicates
of it. He tells the nature of the Cossacks as effec-
tively as his friend Tolstoi. Remorse he paints
adequately. Women have fainted at the sight of
his pictures. Ganz says, in “Russia of To-day ”:
“A youth of barely twenty-four had at one leap
placed himself at the head.” “Repin may be
compared, as a portrait painter, with the very
foremost artists of all times.” Our best critic says
of one of Repin’s pictures: “ It challenges compari-
son with the grim Spaniards at their best.”
Muther praises his work. There is little of the
“purple,” or the artificial, in Russian creations,
and this year a spectator was so affected by
Repin’s painting of Ivan that he could not refrain
from drawing his knife and slashing the picture.
The dramatic has its value in painting, as the old
ditty puts it:
Of the soul the body form doth take—
Soul is form, and doth the body make.
Repin paints processions. Five hundred
churches they say there are in Moscow. Every
day you see processions. Men bear sacred
images. Burly priests chant deeply and sonor-
ously, and they wear rich-coloured robes. Crip-
ples, invalids, children, pious old women and ladies
with their servants lead the way. There are office-

holders, peasants, banners—and on the edges the
police knouting the pious in truly Russian fashion.
The pilgrims sing hoarsely, as with dust in their
throats. In The Return from Siberia the returned
prisoner has a limp in his feet that comes from
having worn chains. His body is broken—some-
thing has given way. Nobody recognizes him
except his mother. His wife is in a mild flutter;
his children do not know him and are amused at
such a helpless creature. The half glimmer in his
eye is the spark in a man who can suffer no more.
Again, take the picture of Sophia, the Czar Peter’s
sister, in her dungeon. Her eyes are almost com-
ing out as she sees her friends in process of execu-
tion, according to the arrangement of her illus-
trious brother. You realize that she is becoming
deranged before your eyes. Is there anything in
all art more sombre than the picture of Peter’s
prime minister and his daughters in Siberia? The
monotony and savageness of it are in every face,
and in the snow without. Again, there is a quiet
humour in the expression on theCountessTolstoi’s
face, as she smiles at the superior raging of her
husband. The coldest critics say of Repin’s
Ivan: “Titian’s colours.” There is a barbaric
splendour in the colour. But why mention Titian,
when you have a drama such as Titian never
dreamed of? The horror of it makes people cry.
There is no unattained striving. Fit neutral tones
are in other pictures. Repin calmly portrays the
features of such few Rus-
sians as are calm; witness
the portrait of Rimsky-Kor-
sakow. Look, and you will
see that there is a quality of
repose, character and per-
sonality. Also, Repin has
humour, on occasion. Not
since Sir John Falstaff has
there been depicted such
physical humour as you can
see in the Cossack soldiers.
Each is possessed of a su-
perior joke. They are an-
swering the Sultan’s threat-
ening letter, by telling him
that they are overwhelmed
by his absurdities, and that
they propose to call in Con-
stantinople and steal the
sultanas. Great Russians
are merely grim. Repin
comes nearer to being com-
plete,because he has humour


Gallery of W. G. Peckham
IVAN THE TERRIBLE

BY MICHAEL PANIN

CXXIV