VI.Read the text,translate it and put all possible questions: people in galleries - dead or alive?

by Philip Marriott The Moscow News

Not an art gallery aficionado, are you? Maybe a visit to the good old Tretyakov will make you change your mind.

Given a spare moment, would you go to the Tretyakov Gallery? Too often we find ourselves put off galleries in general by the impression of, as a friend put it to me once, rows and rows of portraits of dead people. We shouldnt take sides with the Neanderthals of course, but don’t you catch yourself just sometimes glazing over at the sight of another queen, empress, or king from long ago? My remedy is to speed through the gallery in question and let my instinct tell me when to stop and look. I tried this recently in the Tretyakov and was pleasantly surprised to find myself dawdling, even crawling along, coming to a complete stop in front of the following.

Argunovs Portrait of an Unknown Woman in Russian Dress caught my eye, as did Shibanovs Celebration of a Wedding Agreement - both in Room 4. The first has the same impact that you would expect from a Vermeer, and I am thinking of his Girl with a Pearl Earring in particular. Argunov could not have known of Vermeers work because his entire collection didn’t come to light until a later date. Somehow the Russian Dress brings this picture out from under the collective weight of notables in periwigs. As for the Wedding Agreement, can you imagine having to go through the same ritual? To an Anglichanin like myself there is the added attraction of exotic costume. Something I make a note of even in the metro.

Other temptresses in paint are Kramskoys Unknown Lady in a carriage with what looks suspiciously like the Kremlin in the background. A raven-haired girl with a hat to match notices us from the height of her seat, but you don’t know if she "notices" you or is simply looking down on you - she is obviously wealthy after all. I would have given anything to have been in Kramskoys shoes! If you have ever read a Maupassant novel, you would know. Think of rakish life in late 19-century Paris - the absinthe, the nocturnal binges...

Of course I must mention what I take to be a particular favourite of Russians I know, Borovikovskys portrait of Lopukhina, bought by Tretyakov himself. When I asked what fascinates people about this one, they all say the same thing: It is her eyes. The artist had more than an eye for a pretty girl, though, and again this is one of the pictures that stands head and shoulders above its contemporaries viewed alongside. There is a real difference in the handling of the paint; this is fresh compared to others that seem stale all suffering from mannered poses, formulaic miens and the best efforts of various past painters to flatter their subjects. You get the feeling that with Lopukhina he didn’t need to.

The Tretyakov has a huge collection, and so you shouldn’t try to look at everything in one go. Go back again and again. Famous Russians are in evidence as well. Gogol - looking remarkably untroubled, happy, at peace with himself and the world - is seen in Room 14. He shyly looks away from Venetsianovs Bacchante - a lovely girl but not wearing any clothes. And, if you have ever seen the Russian film of War and Peace, you will be reminded of the character who wins a duel through sheer luck by both Venetsianov and Tropinins self-portraits.

To have seen the art in someones miserable expression is the subject of another painting snapped up by Tretyakov - Gloomy Fomushka, painted in 1868 by Perov, could easily be sitting next to you on the bus or metro; probably at rush hour. For the picture to be labelled with the name of the sitter suggests that either the artist knew him personally or the wealthy client commissioning it did. A strange one to ask an artist to paint!