During the mid-to-late 19th century there was a portraitist of prodigious skill. Perhaps 100 years before his time, or maybe a Russian Vermeer? Ivan Kramskoy was part of the group known as the Itinerants, intellectual, activist artists who valued realism in their work, and achieved a high level of proficiency.
Kramskoy's portraits really shine, but he depicted some people in the natural environment as well. This view of a lady named
Vera Tretyakov walking a forest path is an interesting picture to lead with. It is, in someways, a contrast to the portraiture for which Kramskoy really shines. But there are some parallel skills shown here. The ability to capture the light and atmosphere of the space under the vegetation with an economy of strokes, for example. If the artist had been more taken with landscape as his focus, it would have been interesting to see where it would lead.
Indeed in the Itinerants group, several members feature figures in the landscape, though the figures are usually more dominant centres of attention, and the landscapes, while faithfully rendered, are not as atmospheric or 'magical' as Kramskoy's.
The subjects in his landscape settings somehow capture subtle a sense of movement, too. You almost expect an arm to lift or a head to turn.
His colour palette is usually consistent as well. The translucent green of sun-through-leaves appears to be a favourite.
This piece, a couple
On Balcony at Siverskaya (1883) not only captures the summer's day well, it reminds me that the mowed-lawn is much more of a modern obsession. They are people living in the landscape rather than dominating it.
Looking at the other members of the Itinerants for a moment, there are many who deserve attention. One notable is the artist Ilia Repin who did large,
slightly over-the-top, Cecil B. DeMillesque tableaux. Moments in history, migrating peasants, labouring hoards, that sort of thing. Quite pleasant to look at and note the complex, multitudes each with their own expression and activity.
There's also, the engaging
Valentin Serov who was a skilled portraitist in his own right. Serov perhaps even incorporates more personality in his works, embracing the free feeling of a quick sketch into his finished works. Certainly he captured a wider range of emotions, often joyous ones too, if not an equal depth to that Kramskoy captured. (A future Monday Morning feature?) But one cannot deny the striking gravitas of a Kramskoy portrait over all others.
This portrait of Dr Rauhfus (1887) is one that perhaps has some of the feel of Serov, in its contrast of roughly sketched, and precisely completed elements. (Or maybe it was just unfinished ;)
In the 20th century there was the
Photorealism movement, born out of Pop Art in which Kramskoy and Repin and some of their Itinerant contemporaries would have felt at home.
I don't have a good sense of Kramskoy's biography. It's clear he spent some formative years in France, as he has a handful of landscapes around Paris. The 18th and 19th century Russian love affair with all things French can easily explain that. The influence on his work comes through clearly though as well.
The French landscape painters of the mid 19th century were still doing classical pieces full of mythology and religion, but would lay the groundwork for impressionists like Cezanne, Seurat and Monet. Kramskoy seems to have picked up on some of that. And while his portraits are near photo realistic, his landscapes have an ethereal quality, and interpretation that his people do not. They look to my eye like he may have been on to something, but didn't really develop it, as portraiture consumed him.
Now on to his portraits. There are two very arresting pieces that first brought my attention to Kramskoy. First was his self-portrait of 1867. Many his self-portraits are very good. He may be, at least to my taste, among the greatest self-portraitists in history.
In this piece of the artist at thirty years old, one can easily imagine him as a contemporary figure. Here, as in all his male portraits, Kramskoy shows a mastery of hair. The big bushy beards of peasants and working class (see further below) are always meticulously and captured. I find it interesting that he could master such a photo-realistic approach to beards and tousled hair, yet works with such an economy of strokes and an impressionist feel with vegetation. Both are surely of equal complexity. The latter, I suppose, is more forgiving in terms of criticism by the viewer?
Oh the second of his most arresting portraits on my list, among his best, are two 1883 portraits of the same unknown woman shown below.
This first one seems to be more of a sketch for a later finished work, which I've also included here, below. The expression in the sketch is a bit more natural and sympathetic. There is a more natural colour in her cheeks from the cold, and her hair pulled up out of the way, but there doesn't seem to be a hat involved.
A different facial expression now. Similar, but now a little more haughty. Her makeup a bit more powdered and formal, and clothing more dressy as well. She's headed for the opera, perhaps? The setting and face seem rather French to me, but who knows. Could just be that on-going obsession with Parisien culture.
Let's go extra-large for this formatting, and let it spill over the template a bit so we can enjoy the misty setting more easily.
A smattering of other portraits to include now to convey Kramskoy's best. Two other stand-outs are these that follow, depicting the lower-echelons of Russian society. As an activist artist and intellectual, born into humble means, he shows an affinity to the common people. We all know where the outrage at the plight of poor Russian peasants leads in the next couple of generations.
The Peasant from 1868 gives us a humble looking fellow with a prodigious beard. His hair looks like he may just have taken a moment to wet his hand and flatten out the unruly locks before the painting was 'snapped.' The beard belies his years, the coarse clothing his station and facing the difficult elements.
There's colour in his lower face from working in the sun and wind, and a bright forehead from a heavy hat.
His eyes look at us, but glaze a bit as he waits for the painting work to be finished. His mind wanders, we can see a little bit into his soul.
The Miller from 1873 shows an older fellow. He doesn't look at us, but rather gazes off across the room.
His rough coat is still cinched up tight over his girth. He didn't get a lot of sleep last night. He's getting on in years and the heavy work of the mill is probably wearing on his old bones.
This and the previous subject with their rough hair, the scraggly beards, and rudimentary clothing, are Kramskoy's forté. You can feel the connection with these people that are part of his activist nature.
A final piece with a similar ability to capture expression and depth. May I introduce you to Ekatarina Kornilova, or at least as she appeared in 1880.
Kramskoy is in his early forties at this point. Ekatarina seems a little nonplussed at sitting so long for her portrait. She's putting on a brave smile occasionally, but mostly a bit tired of the chair. Kramskoy captures her 'in-between' face, showing us a bit of the fatigue, and eyes that are at one moment meeting ours, then at the next drifting down slightly to our right.
Kramskoy only lives to be 49 years old. Perhaps not unusual for the mid 19th century. He dies in St. Petersburg in 1887. He leaves a lot of crisp, engaging portraits that are as good as any we will ever see.
