In the Eye of the Storm: Modernism in Ukraine, 1900–1930s – Royal Academy, London

A simple and small-scale exhibition, In the Eye of the Storm is a primer on art in Ukraine in its historic context, and a reminder of how history really does repeat itself.

In the Eye of the Storm, Then and Now

On a recent trip to the Royal Academy, I was delighted by their newest exhibition In the Eye of the Storm: Modernism in Ukraine 1900-1930s. The war between Russia and Ukraine continues: I’m sure the curators hoped that by now this exhibition would be a reflection on the past as Ukraine looks ahead to the future, rather than a commentary on an ongoing struggle.

But at the same time it’s actually because of the conflict that this exhibition exists at all. Like refugees, the artworks have been moving from safe harbour to safe harbour since 2022. As Ukraine’s museum sector was largely unprepared for all out war, this quick response has proven an excellent way to temporarily safeguard cultural heritage. The majority of the works on view come from the National Art Museum of Ukraine and the Museum of Theatre, Music and Cinema of Ukraine. Other museum collections have not fared so well. The logistics to pull this off were incredible, and it’s worth reading a first-hand account here.

It was through reading this account that I learned the London exhibition is only part of the travelling story of modernism in Ukraine. The rest is currently in Slovakia. But because the Royal Academy are using one of their smaller spaces to host the exhibition, they have focused on the Futurist and radical modernist sections. This in itself paints a very interesting picture. And I liked the small scale of the exhibition: I found it clear, nicely presented, and could take in each work in turn. Let’s look now at the story of modernism in Ukraine in more detail.

Modernism in Ukraine, 1900–1930s

At least in part to increase the exhibition’s chances of finding homes in various European institutions, its focus is very specific. It is not an exhibition of Ukrainian modernism. It’s an exhibition of modernism in Ukraine. What is the difference? Well the one starts to get bogged down in proving a distinctive national movement. The other, to quote co-curator Konstantin Akinsha, focuses “on the artists who spent some time in Ukraine, even if only a little, but who influenced the development of Ukrainian modernism.”

And without getting into any of the claims of certain artists being Ukrainian or Russian or French or Polish, I recognised more names than I thought I would. Kazymyr Malevych, El Lissitzky, Alexander Archipenko and Sonia Delaunay to name just a few. And to note, the exhibition favours the Ukrainian spelling of names. Potential minefields everywhere!

But it’s this forming and re-forming of borders, identities and even spellings that’s the key to the exhibition. It charts Ukraine’s fortunes from 1900-1930s through its art. We begin with a cosmopolitan art scene, despite Russian control extending to a lack of art academies within Ukraine. Cubist and Futurist influences are strong here. The period of the Ukrainian People’s Republic (1917-18) and Ukrainian War of Independence (1918-21) were the backdrop to bold experimentation. There’s a nice collection of theatrical set and costume designs here from the Museum of Theatre, Music and Cinema. The Ukrainian People’s Republic was ideologically multicultural, and so we see also Jewish artists and themes flourish.

But there’s an immediate tension created by placing these against the early Soviet period. Multicultural tolerance ceded to Soviet pressure and inter-community violence, but a dual Ukrainian-Soviet identity emerged under ‘Ukrainisation’. Mykhailo Boichuk emerged as a leading talent, until he and his followers were executed as bourgeois nationalists in the 1930s. Similarly the Kyiv Art Institute was a leading and progressive art school within the USSR in the 1920s, but the shift in the political climate impacted the school’s autonomy by the 1930s. The exhibition closes on the last Ukrainian modernists adapting to Socialist Realism as the only official art style.

A Perfect Introductory Capsule Collection

And so, you see, I learned quite a lot in a short space of time. Each of these moments in the history of modernism in Ukraine has its own space, distinguished by wall colour. It’s easy to read the text, take in the relevant works, and understand the developing story. And although this is a pared-down version of a larger exhibition, each work still has space here. It never feels crowded, or confused, or overwhelming.

There is so much more you could go into on the topic of art and modernism in Ukraine. Some of them, as we discussed, political minefields. But In the Eye of the Storm is best seen as an introduction. It frankly assumes that the audience knows little about this subject but wants to learn. And so it explains both the art and its context, while referencing topics of secondary interest.

And as for the art, not all of it is stellar, but it is very much part of this story. I particularly liked the Cubist and Futurist theatre designs by the likes of Oleksandr Khvostenko-Khvostov and Anatol Petrytskyi. The paintings of Boichuk et al. are also intriguing, fusing folk tradition with modernist aesthetics. And I don’t know whether it’s a symbol of hope or a pity to see glimpses of the avant-garde beneath some of the Soviet realist paintings. Let’s go for the latter: despite the attempts at purging this period, after all, we are able to celebrate and enjoy it today.

Salterton Arts Review’s rating: 4/5

In the Eye of the Storm: Modernism in Ukraine 1900-1930s on until 13 October 2024