The Patriarch of Russian Painting

Mikhail Nesterov, born 140 years ago this month, boasted an enviably long creative life. Born under Tsar Alexander II, he survived the reigns of Alexander III, Nicholas II, Vladimir Lenin and most of the rule of Josef Stalin, never compromising on his artistic principles. He died in wartime Moscow, shortly after receiving the Order of the Red Banner and the Stalin Prize on the occasion of his 80th birthday.

Mikhail Vasilyevich Nesterov was born on May 19, 1862, in the city of Ufa, Bashkiria, the tenth child of the respected merchant Vasily Nesterov and his wife Maria. Little Mikhail’s health was quite fragile, and his parents feared he would not survive. So, in keeping with local customs, they cured him by placing him inside a huge piece of bread and warming him in the open oven. The Nesterovs had two more children after Mikhail, yet of the twelve children, only Mikhail and his sister Maria survived.

Mikhail’s grandfather, Ivan, had been a serf for the famous Demidov family in Novgorod. His masters transferred him to the Urals to work in their metallurgical plants, and he displayed an uncommon business talent. Subsequently, he was freed to become an independent merchant. Ivan Nesterov went on to become quite succesful in business and politics, serving for 20 years as the golova (mayor) of Ufa.

Mikhail Nesterov recalled his father, Vasily, as a “lively, active, man, who was meticulously honest” and had a hot-temper and an independent character. When Vasily realized that his son and heir had no penchant for trade, he gradually let his business wind down to nothing. But, as Mikhail later recalled, “since he was very hard-working and could not be idle, he shortly found an occupation to his liking: he was elected a partner at the newly-opened Social City Bank, which he helped found.”

A self-made man, Mikhail Nesterov did not receive a systematic, classic education—a fact he often regretted later in life. Until the age of nine, Nesterov was home-schooled. His parents then enrolled him at the Ufa gymnasium (secondary school), yet he had no inclination for math, foreign languages or other main subjects. Instead, and unlike the majority of his classmates, he loved religion classes and drawing lessons. So, after just two years at the gymnasium, Mikhail transferred to the Moscow Higher Realnoye Uchilische—a sort of technical college. Here students learned practical skills and technical disciplines. But again Mikhail resisted. Lukewarm about the sciences, he continued to focus on his drawing until he was “rescued” by the well-known genre painter, Konstantin Trutovsky. During a visit to the college, and upon seeing Nesterov’s drawings, Trutovsky insisted that the talented youth begin taking professsional art lessons.

Mikhail’s father took Trutovsky’s advice, buying his son oil paints and brushes. After several lessons, Vasily permitted his son to take entry exams for the Moscow School of Art, Sculpture and Architecture. In August 1876, at the age of 14, Mikhail was admitted to the “head” class of the school; by November he had already moved to the next, “figure” class, based on his drawing of Ariadna’s head. In 1880, Nesterov was promoted to the nature class, where he studied under the tutelage of Vasily Perov, who had a tremendous influence on Nesterov’s life and work.

“Just like Perov, I need the human soul,” Nesterov later recalled. “True, Perov never distinguished himself by superb drawing or refined colors. But then he was very observant, both his internal and external eyes were very clairvoyant. Perov had the sharp mind of a satirist, coupled with strong, hot and sincere sentiments. He could recognize in real life—and transfer onto the canvas—unforgettable scenes, images and characters; he was able to grasp the human soul, man’s deeds and actions, human life at its point of greatest tension.”

Perov was a generous teacher who cared for his students as if they were his children, opening his soul to them and sharing with them his vast life experience as a connoisseur of human sorrow, passion and vice. But Nesterov’s unpredictable and indomitable nature led him to flee this “comfortable” nest, leaving Moscow in 1881 to enroll in the St. Petersburg Academy of the Arts.

When he arrived in St. Petersburg, Nesterov took it upon himself to copy Van Dyke’s famous canvas, “Doubting Thomas,” then on exhibit in the Imperial Hermitage. He sought to learn from the Old Masters, but became disappointed in his own work, particularly his copy of Van Dyke. He realized he had not yet found his own path in art, so he withdrew from the Academy and returned to Ufa to get his bearings.

Back in his hometown, Nesterov met the charming Maria Martynovskaya, who became his fiancé. He returned to Moscow a few months later and began finding work as an artist. What is more, his work began to receive critical acclaim. Within four years, in March 1885, Nesterov was awarded the title of Free Artist for his sketch to the painting “The Calling of Mikhail Fedorovich Romanov to Tsardom.” This designation as Free Artist exempted the 22-year old Nesterov from being drafted into the army. But his frenzied work life was taking a toll on his health, finally ending in a bout with pneumonia. Maria rushed through the spring muds to nurse him back to health and, Nesterov later wrote, “A new life began for me, the life of artistic and family joy.”

y late 1885, Nesterov was able to become a “free artist” in the true sense of the word, declining further material support from his parents and living off his earnings as an artist and illustrator. His most significant earnings came from painting decorative interiors in the homes of rich merchants.

On May 12, 1886, Nesterov painted the first work which brought him serious offical recognition, his historical painting “Solicitors and the Sovereign.” For it, he was awarded a Silver Medal and the title of “Class Artist.” But the joy was soon marred by tragedy. On May 29, a week after the birth of their daughter Olga, Nesterov’s wife Maria passed away. She was his muse and inspiration and Nesterov was haunted by memories of their happy times together. He painted a huge portrait of her in her wedding gown, only to destroy it in a fit of anguish (yet he did rescue the portrait’s face). Later, he portrayed Maria in two versions of “The Bride of Christ,” hoping it would help him overcome his grief.

But only time and immersion in his work healed the pain of loss. In 1887, his “Solicitors and the Sovereign” received a prize at a contest of the Society for Rewarding Artists in St. Petersburg. This reinvigorated Nesterov’s work and he began feverishly working on illustrations for Leo Tolstoy’s new novel, Anna Karenina, and on an order from the well-known illustrated journal, Niva.

In the summer of 1888, Nesterov moved to Sergiev Posad, next to the Troitse-Sergiev Lavra. There he worked on his sketches for what would become his famous religious paintings, “In Search of the Magic Potion,” and “The Hermit” (page 43). He also became acquainted with arts patron Savva Mamontov, whose Abramtsevo Estate was not far from Sergiev-Posad (see Russian Life, March/April 2002). Nesterov became a regular at Abramtsevo and developed and completed many of his works there.

While Nesterov was finishing work on “The Hermit,” (repainting the old man’s face over and over again), an unpected visitor from Moscow stopped by. It was Pavel Mikhailovich Tretyakov, the owner of the famous art gallery that now bears his name. Tretyakov was so taken by the canvas that he immediately acquired it from Nesterov for 500 rubles—quite a hefty sum at that time. The painting was displayed at the 17th Itinerant Exhibition in St. Petersburg in 1889 and enjoyed huge success. Perhaps most importantly, it raised Nesterov’s status in his father’s eyes—at one point, his father had said, half-jokingly, that neither medals nor titles would convince him that his son had “arrived” as an artist; only when Mikhail began exhibiting his work in a gallery would Vasily be convinced.

Tretyakov’s purchase meant that Nesterov was able to afford his first trip abroad: he visited Vienna, Venice, Florence, Rome, Naples, Pompei, Capri, Milan, Paris, Berlin and Dresden, carrying his 500 rubles in a pouch hung around his neck. At that time, the ruble was a strong currency, welcome in any country, and the sum lasted him through three months of traveling.

hen Nesterov returned home to Russia he felt like he was born again as an artist: “I felt some inner need in me—the need to say something personal,” he later wrote. He settled into the small village of Khomyakin, just a stone’s throw from Abramtsevo, and began work on the canvass that would become his best-known, “The Vision of the Boy Bartholomew.”

“In those days I lived only while painting,” Nesterov said. “All of my thoughts were focused on it. I lived the life of my characters. In the hours when I was not painting the canvass, I didn’t really exist, and, finishing my work at dusk, I did not know what to do with myself until the next morning.”

Nesterov was truly in a creative frenzy. He even reportedly had a prophetic dream: that his Bartholemew would be hung at the Tretyakov gallery in a place of honor.

The painting was the first in a series of canvasses that Nesterov dedicated to the subject of Saint Sergiy Radonezhsky (born Bartholomew), a major political and religious leader of 14th century Russia who was instrumental in helping Russia struggle against the Tatar yoke and who founded Troitse-Sergiev Lavra (see page 38). The painting depicts young Bartholomew’s vision of a monastic elder who foretold his future.

In 1890, “Bartholomew” was displayed at the 18th Itinerant Exhibition in St. Petersburg, where it was the focus of fierce debate. Its mystical presentation—in particular the halo around the elder’s head—led some to call it an “icon” and unworthy of the Itinerant realist tradition. Indeed, it was the first attempt by a Russian artist at religious stylization.

Gathering in front of the painting, some even tried to talk Pavel Tretyakov out of buying the canvas for his gallery. Tretyakov listened attentively, then replied, “Thank you for sharing this with me. I bought Nesterov’s painting back when I was in Moscow, and if I had not bought it there, I would definitely buy it here now, after hearing you and your accusations.” Tretyakov, who had paid 2,000 rubles for the work and would indeed display it in a place of honor in his gallery, then bowed respectfully to his interlocutors and quietly moved on to contemplate the next painting on display.

orking on his Bartholomew series sparked Nesterov’s ever-growing interest in the ascetic austerity of monastic life, the beauty of Orthodox rites and life in harmony with nature. Landscapes began to play an active role in his canvasses, and he portrayed his characters with what critics have called “sympathetic contemplation based on a poetic perception of the universe.”

At this juncture (1890), another Abramtsevo art circle artist, Viktor Vasnetsov, was nominated as artistic director overseeing the painting of frescoes at the newly-built Vladimir Cathedral in Kiev. The project manager was Kiev University professor and well-known art scholar and archaeologist Adrian Prakhov. Prakhov invited Nesterov to take part in the work on the frescoes, a proposal that radically changed Nesterov’s life and fate. He moved to Kiev and, for the next five years, worked with Vasnetsov on the cathedral’s frescoes—the best known being “Christmas” and “Princess Olga.”

Vladimir Cathedral was consecrated on August 20, 1896, but Nesterov was not to return to Moscow until 1910. In parallel to the frescoes, Nesterov painted two more in his series of paintings on Sergiy Radonezhsky. But critical reaction was tepid, judging the works to be a departure from realism, influenced by Nesterov’s growing penchant for myths and symbolism. Even the devoted fan Tretyakov declined to buy these new paintings, so in 1897 Nesterov simply donated the remaining canvases of his Radonezhsky cycle to the Tretyakov gallery.

In 1898, Grand Prince Georgy Alexandrovich charged Nesterov with painting the interior of the Alexander Nevsky Church in Abastuman (80 km from Borzhomi, Georgia). Nesterov spent most of the next five years there and received an honorarium commensurate with this huge work—100,000 rubles. Despite the lucrative nature of the project, Nesterov on many occasions later expressed his disatisfaction with the results of his work in Abastuman, yet it is hard to tell how sincere he was in this conclusion. The history of art has yet to make its final judgment on the value of this church, located as it is in such a deserted place (and presently in desperate need of restoration).

In the 1890s, Nesterov created such famous paintings as “The Taking of the Cloth” and “The Slain Tsarevich Dmitry.” He also worked on sketches and mosaics for the Church of the Savior-on-the-Blood in St. Petersburg [the cathedral built on the site of the assassination of Alexander II, recently reopened after lentghy restoration].

In the meantime, new winds were blowing in the world of art. Realism was giving way to new styles and Nesterov nicely fit into this new trend, often playing a leading role. In 1898, shortly after being awarded the title of academician by the Imperial Academy of Arts, Nesterov met with Alexander Benoit, Sergei Dyagilev and other artists, who would later found the seminal journal, Mir Iskusstva (“World of Art”). Five years later, in February 1903, in a move to augment artistic freedom for young artists, Nesterov spearheaded the creation of the Union of Russian Artists (which lasted until 1923). The Union’s charter contained a radical innovation: members were entitled to exhibit their works without the preliminary acquiescence of a jury.

Meanwhile, in 1902 Nesterov married Yekaterina Petrovna Vasilieva (1879-1955). A portrait of his young wife became Nesterov’s first work in the portrait genre. It was a “spur of the moment” work, taking the artist just ten sittings to finish. Later, Yekaterina Petrovna recalled: “I was sitting in an armchair by the window on a sunny winter morning, next to a table with a bouquet of bright azaleas. Mikhail Vasilievich stopped and said: ‘That’s just the way I should paint you. Just sit there ‘... No sooner did I have time to figure it all out than the portrait was ready; it was so lightning-fast.” The portrait now hangs in the Tretyakov Gallery.

In 1906, Nesterov completed a masterpiece featuring the other woman in his life—a portrait of his daughter Olga. The work, known as “The Amazon,” marked a turning point in Nesterov’s art. Hearkening back to his first Bartholomew painting, this realistic portrait was perfectly combined with a lyrical landscape to give the canvass a larger philosophical meaning. “Nesterov is great at Russian landscapes, so silent and so pensive. And how formidable is his manner of connecting this landscape to the figures of people shrouded in some special purity,” wrote the artist Alexander Golovin. Critics said the painting embodied Nesterov’s indelible anguish for the “unattainable moral ideal” and the “irretrievable plenitude of being.” Russians lacked both at the turn of the century; everywhere was the presentiment of future, bloody cataclysms. Indeed, it was his portraiture work that allowed Nesterov to survive the coming decades of revolution and war without compromising his artistic freedom.

In early 1907, Nesterov held individual exhibits in Moscow and St. Petersburg, featuring some 85 works. They were a huge success—on weekends in St. Petersburg, as many as two thousand visitors flocked to admire Nesterovs’ art every day. In June and July of that year, the artist lived at Yasnaya Polyana, the family estate of Leo Tolstoy, working on his now famous portrait of the great writer in front of the estate’s famous pond.

Nesterov was satisfied with the final portrait, saying it captured “the noble character of Lev Nikolaevich’s old age, which is now overtaking him.” Tolstoy was equally happy. “The old man likes the portrait,” Nesterov said, “though he said he likes to see himself in a more ‘combative’ mood. As for me, for my canvass I need him focused and pensive.”

In that same year, Nesterov began work on the frescoes at St. Martha and Mary convent in Moscow. The convent was built on the initiative of Grand Duchess Elizabeth Fyodorovna, sister of the last Russian empress, Alexandra Fedorovna. Elizabeth was the widow of Grand Prince Sergei Alexandrovich Romanov (brother of Alexander III), who, prior to his assasination in Red Square in 1905 from a terrorist’s bomb, held the post of Moscow military governor-general. Elizaveta became very devout, sold her possessions to purchase a land plot and founded a religious order devoted not to quiet contemplation and prayer (as was the norm for convents), but charity and nursing. Elizabeth became the first Mother Superior of the convent, all but cutting off her ties to the royal family.

Nesterov worked tirelessly on the frescoes at St. Martha and Mary, calling upon the assistance of young artist Pavel Korin. The main work was completed by 1911; the convent was consecrated in April 1912. In 1914, Nesterov painted on the interior of the cupola of the main church (The Church of the Intercession, designed by Alexei Shchusev) the image of Christ. But the convent’s operating life was short. On July 18, 1918, Elizabeth was brutally murdered by the Bolsheviks and thrown into a mine near Alapaevsk, in the Urals. The convent was closed and Nesterov’s frescoes were out of bounds for seven decades.

he artist lived out the first years of revolution and civil war in Armavir, in the Northern Caucasus. In 1920, he returned to a Moscow much changed from when he left. The new atheistic ideology forced him to avoid his favorite religious and mythical themes, so he took a long sabbatical from painting.

Only in the early 1930s did Nesterov resume his painting, dedicating himself entirely to the genre of the psychological portrait. His models were prominent people of strong character and integrity, people who left their mark on the history of Russian culture and science. He painted his subjects at the moment of their creative inspiration: sculptor Vera Mukhina is carving, surgeon Sergei Yudin is absorbed in thought after surgery, scientist Ivan Pavlov clenches his fists, ready to defend his scientific beliefs before the Powers That Be. In all, there is a tangible, spiritual rapport between the artist and his subjects. “Mikhail Vasilievich had a rather rough, despotic character, he could be ‘frenzied,’ as he himself defined his fits of anger,” said Nikolai Prakhov of Nesterov after the two had worked together in Kiev. And yet Nesterov was often sociable and very affable, dazzling his interlocutors with his fine mind, his ardent heart and the hot temperament of an artist.

How Mikhail Vasilyevich felt about the Soviets is anyone’s guess. He left behind no documented testimony of his true feelings about Soviet power and what it did to Russian culture and religion. It is, however, safe to suppose that Nesterov was not happy with the persecution of religious leaders or the closure and destruction of many Orthodox churches. We do know Nesterov completed a portrait of philosopher Ivan Ilyin in 1922, just a few months before the latter was expelled from Soviet Russia on the so-called “philosophical cruise”—as they called the ship which carried abroad the creme de la creme of Russia’s intellectual elite that was at odds with the Bolshevik regime. He had also painted the religious philosophers Pavel Florensky and Sergei Bulgakov (both persecuted by the Soviets); the surgeon Yudin was also later repressed.

Nesterov clearly avoided becoming a submissive artist of “zakaznoy” (“on order”) works. In 1934, the painter Isaac  Brodsky, an artist who did many such zakaznoy, official  portraits of Soviet leaders, offered Nesterov a position as professor in the Academy of Arts. Nesterov declined the offer.

His reputation as the paragon of the Itinerant art movement is probably most responsible for Nesterov’s survival, artistically and otherwise, through the 1930s. The Soviet Powers That Be held the peredvizhniki in high regard as politically-correct artistic precursors to their new artistic movement, Socialist Realism. Nesterov was also a recognized master of portraiture: his portrait of Ivan Pavlov (1935) earned him the Stalin Prize, 1st Degree—one of the first  Stalin Prizes ever awarded. What is more, toward the end of his life, Nesterov’s interest in patriotic themes and religion synchronized with Stalin’s use of these same themes to rally the country in the war against the Nazi invaders. In 1942, just a few months before Nesterov’s death, his 80th birthday was widely celebrated in Moscow, and he was awarded the prestigious title of Emeritus Worker of the Arts, along with the second most prestigious award, the Soviet Order of the Working Red Banner.

In an artistic career spanning six decades, Mikhail Nesterov managed to successfully navigate the tumultuous and dangerous waters of revolution, war, politics and art. He came through with his reputation as an artist and a man unscathed and uncompromised. It is an accomplishment not many Russian artists or writers living between the 1880s and 1940s can boast of. And it is a testament to the depth of Nesterov’s talent, his devotion to his art, and his uncompromising character.