Collective Vision

With Stalin’s rise to power, the Soviet Union embarked on a rapid course of industrialization. Both factory and farm production were centralized. Agriculture was to be carried out on a mass scale rather than relying on a patchwork of small farms. Privately owned land was consolidated into state farms (sovkhozy) and collective farms (kolkhozy) through a process known as collectivization, which Stalin set in motion in 1928.

In Ukraine, where the fertile black soil known as chernozem yielded superior harvests, thriving farmers were branded as “kulaks” and summarily executed, jailed, or exiled to remote parts of Siberia and Central Asia. Enforced grain requisitions meant that those who remained on the land slowly, and painfully, starved. Stalin’s brutal agricultural policies resulted in the terrible famine of 1932-33, and as a result of collectivization, roughly 10 million people died. The campaign was also disastrous for Soviet agriculture. With little individual incentive, insufficient equipment, and unrealistic production quotas, the collective farm system led to widespread corruption and meager harvests.

It is against this grim backdrop that Sergei Gerasimov’s painting, A Collective Farm Holiday, must be understood. By 1937, the year he painted it, 90 percent of the Soviet Union’s farms had been collectivized. That year was also the height of the Great Terror, in which millions of Soviet citizens were arrested and executed or sent to labor camps. Stalin’s famous slogan of “Life has become better, comrades, life has become more joyous!” takes on tangible form in Gerasimov’s painting, rendered in the Socialist Realist manner. In 1932, the government had declared Socialist Realism the official mode of artistic production. Though painterly styles could vary, artists were charged with conveying the idealism and joy of the “radiant future” that lay just ahead. Gerasimov’s painting captures this sentiment in its portrayal of a celebration among collective-farm workers.

What redeems Gerasimov’s painting from its banal subject is the artist’s beautiful use of light. The entire canvas is suffused with radiance to express the workers’ joy and the bright future that socialism will bring. The sunlight scintillates in various shades on the landscape, the tablecloth, and the clothing. But what is most interesting about the painting is the way Gerasimov captures a society in transition between old and new. Some of the workers, including the man making the speech, are dressed in traditional peasant garb – rubashki (peasant shirts), head­scarves, and gaily patterned skirts and blouses. Interspersed among these workers are more modern members of the kolkhoz, the young people who represent the desired Soviet future. These figures are trim and athletic. The bicycle that features so prominently in the foreground is a visible marker of this wonderful new life.

The painting’s setting likewise reflects a mix of the old and the new. On the table we see a steaming samovar, that age-old symbol of Russian hospitality, and in the far distance we can make out a church, another symbol of the past. Yet the near distance reveals a transmission tower – an important sign that the countryside has been electrified – and a tractor, which signals industrialized agriculture. Interestingly, when this painting was first shown in 1938 at “The Industry of Socialism” exhibition, Gerasimov was criticized for having created too lyrical a landscape, with insufficient focus on the kolkhoz workers’ labor. No doubt the critics were troubled that the most progressive kolkhozniki have their backs turned to the viewer.

Any collective celebration necessarily involves food, and for this occasion tables have been formally set for a feast. Most vivid is the large, celebratory pirog (pie) presented by the woman at the left of the painting. The centrally placed carafe of vodka suggests that there will be plenty of gaiety as the feast goes on. A luxury bottle of wine joins the vodka on the table, and the soft drinks being unpacked from the basket promise another special treat. The large plate of sausage on the table is perhaps the most palpable indicator of the good life. For the contemporaneous viewer, Gerasimov’s manufactured realism was meant to uplift and inspire in its vision of a better and more joyous life.

Sour Cabbage

Кислая капуста

In his Notes from the Country, 1872-1887, Aleksandr Nikolaevich Engelgardt, the exiled rector of St. Petersburg’s Agricultural Institute, describes the harvest season when his housekeeper Avdotya takes over the entire house for a week to chop cabbage for sauerkraut. Though sauerkraut needs to ferment for 2 to 6 weeks, the Russians prepare a quicker version called kislaya kapusta, or sour cabbage, which tastes like a briny coleslaw. During the Soviet era, this dish was a standard accompaniment to just about every restaurant meal.

2 pounds white cabbage
1 large carrot, peeled
1 large tart apple, peeled and cored
1 tablespoon salt
2 small bay leaves
8 whole black peppercorns
8 allspice berries
1/4 teaspoon caraway seed
1/4 teaspoon dill seed
Thinly sliced onions
Sugar
Vegetable oil

In a food processor, finely shred the cabbage, carrot and apple. Put the shredded mixture in a large bowl and sprinkle with the salt. Let stand for 1 hour, then squeeze the juice out through a strainer, reserving it. There should be 1¾ cups of expressed juice.

Place one quarter of the shredded mixture in a 1-quart jar. Top with half a bay leaf, 2 peppercorns, 2 allspice berries, and one quarter of the caraway and dill seeds. Cover with more of the shredded mixture and continue the process until there are 4 layers.

Pour the reserved juice over the layered cabbage; it should cover it.

Cover the mouth of the jar with cheesecloth and let stand at room temperature for 4 days. Then cover the jar and refrigerate until ready to serve.

To serve, cut a few thin slices of onion. Toss each portion of sour cabbage with some onion, a dash of sugar and a few drops of vegetable oil.

Serves 8.