The fourth-floor exhibit, called “Difficult Choices, ” is an interesting survey of Estonian art from the end of World War II until “re-independence” in 1991. Some of the works are Soviet-style, while others are by dissident artists.
Estonian art parted ways with Western Europe with the Soviet takeover in 1945. The Soviets insisted that artworks actively promote the communist struggle, and to that end, Estonian artists were forced to adopt the Stalinist formula, making paintings that were done in the traditional national style but that were socialist in content. This style now called Socialist Realism.
Socialist Realism had its roots in the early 20th-century Realist movement, whose artists wanted to depict the actual conditions of life rather than just glamour and wealth. In America, you would think of John Steinbeck’s novels or Walker Evans’ photographs of the rural poor. In the Soviet Union, this artistic curiosity about the working class was warped into an ideology. Art was supposed to glorify labour and the state’s role in distributing its fruits. In a system where there was ultimately little incentive to work hard, art was seen as a tool to motivate the masses and to support the Communist Party’s hold on power.
In the collection’s first room, called “A Tale of Happiness, ” you’ll see syrupy images of what Soviet leadership imagined to be the ideal of communist Estonia. In Agitator Amongst the Voters, a stern portrait of Stalin in the hazy background keeps an eye on a young hotshot articulating some questionable ideas; his listeners’ reactions range from shudders of horror to smirks of superiority. The Young Aviators shows an eager youngster wearing a bright red neckerchief, which indicated his membership in the Pioneers, the propaganda communist version of the Scouts, telling his enraptured schoolmates stories about a model aeroplane.
The next room shows canvases of miners, protesters, metalworkers, tractor drivers, and more all doing their utmost for the communist society. You’ll also see paintings of industrial achievements, like bridges and party meetings. As mining was integral to the Estonian economy, miners were portrayed as local heroes, marching like soldiers to their glorious labour. Women were depicted toiling side by side with men, as equal partners.
While supposedly a reflection of “real” life, Socialist Realism art was formulaic and showed little creative spirit. Though some Estonian artists flirted with social commentary and the avant-garde, a few ended up in Siberia as a result. Stroll through a few more rooms, noticing a handful of artists who attempted some bolder compositions. Also keep an eye out for a sly portrait of the “great leader”, Stalin.
Later, in the Brezhnev years, Estonian artists managed to slip Surrealist, Pop, and Photorealist themes into their work, as an example, Rein Tammik’s large painting 1945-1975, which juxtaposes an old tractor with the flower children of the Swingin’ Sixties. Estonia was the only part of the USSR that recognized Pop Art.
The rest of the museum is devoted to temporary exhibits, with the contemporary art always on the fifth floor, where there is also a nice view back to the Old Town from the far gallery. It’s also worth admiring the mostly successful architecture. The building is partly dug into the limestone hill, and the facade is limestone too, for an overview, look for the model of the building, just inside the main doors.
Continued in Part 25
Estonian art parted ways with Western Europe with the Soviet takeover in 1945. The Soviets insisted that artworks actively promote the communist struggle, and to that end, Estonian artists were forced to adopt the Stalinist formula, making paintings that were done in the traditional national style but that were socialist in content. This style now called Socialist Realism.
Socialist Realism had its roots in the early 20th-century Realist movement, whose artists wanted to depict the actual conditions of life rather than just glamour and wealth. In America, you would think of John Steinbeck’s novels or Walker Evans’ photographs of the rural poor. In the Soviet Union, this artistic curiosity about the working class was warped into an ideology. Art was supposed to glorify labour and the state’s role in distributing its fruits. In a system where there was ultimately little incentive to work hard, art was seen as a tool to motivate the masses and to support the Communist Party’s hold on power.
In the collection’s first room, called “A Tale of Happiness, ” you’ll see syrupy images of what Soviet leadership imagined to be the ideal of communist Estonia. In Agitator Amongst the Voters, a stern portrait of Stalin in the hazy background keeps an eye on a young hotshot articulating some questionable ideas; his listeners’ reactions range from shudders of horror to smirks of superiority. The Young Aviators shows an eager youngster wearing a bright red neckerchief, which indicated his membership in the Pioneers, the propaganda communist version of the Scouts, telling his enraptured schoolmates stories about a model aeroplane.
The next room shows canvases of miners, protesters, metalworkers, tractor drivers, and more all doing their utmost for the communist society. You’ll also see paintings of industrial achievements, like bridges and party meetings. As mining was integral to the Estonian economy, miners were portrayed as local heroes, marching like soldiers to their glorious labour. Women were depicted toiling side by side with men, as equal partners.
While supposedly a reflection of “real” life, Socialist Realism art was formulaic and showed little creative spirit. Though some Estonian artists flirted with social commentary and the avant-garde, a few ended up in Siberia as a result. Stroll through a few more rooms, noticing a handful of artists who attempted some bolder compositions. Also keep an eye out for a sly portrait of the “great leader”, Stalin.
Later, in the Brezhnev years, Estonian artists managed to slip Surrealist, Pop, and Photorealist themes into their work, as an example, Rein Tammik’s large painting 1945-1975, which juxtaposes an old tractor with the flower children of the Swingin’ Sixties. Estonia was the only part of the USSR that recognized Pop Art.
The rest of the museum is devoted to temporary exhibits, with the contemporary art always on the fifth floor, where there is also a nice view back to the Old Town from the far gallery. It’s also worth admiring the mostly successful architecture. The building is partly dug into the limestone hill, and the facade is limestone too, for an overview, look for the model of the building, just inside the main doors.
Continued in Part 25