THE FACE OF RUSSIA: Anguish, Aspiration, and Achievement in Russian Culture

THE FACE OF RUSSIA: Anguish, Aspiration, and Achievement in Russian Culture.

By James H. Billington. TV Books. 269 pp. $29.95

"Now we have hope," a Moscow woman quietly commented in August 1991 as it became clear that the Communist coup attempt against the fledgling Russian democracy had failed. Today, economic and institutional collapse continues to threaten the young democracy, yet Russian artists and intellectuals remain free to create without fear of political repression. Never before, in fact, have Russians been so free to explore human experience through artistic expression. Their persistent belief in an art that seeks to transform rather than merely to entertain may offer the greatest hope for preserving their democracy.

In The Face of Russia, Billington, the Librarian of Congress, seeks to tell "the story of the Russian people as seen through their art." Conceived as a companion volume to a PBS series, the book identifies three fundamental forces in the development of the Russian arts: Russian Orthodox spirituality, closeness to nature, and the habit of borrowing from the West—the "recurrent tendency to take over, lift up, and then cast down new forms of creativity," from icon painting to constitutional democracy. The author traces this pattern in the religious culture of the 15th to 17th centuries, represented by wooden churches and the icon painting of Andrei Rublev; the aristocratic culture of the 18th and early 19th centuries, represented by the imperial palaces of Bartolomeo Rastrelli and the literary legacy of Nikolai Gogol; and the mass culture of the later 19th and 20th centuries, represented by the music of Modest Mussorgsky and the films of Sergei Eisenstein. Through each of these art forms, Russians transformed foreign models into radically innovative original works in what Billington describes as "a culture of explosive revolution rather than gradual evolution."

While not purporting to be a comprehensive guide to the Russian artistic experience, this is an informative and highly readable essay. By avoiding some of the more obvious choices of artists and art forms, Billington has produced a personal book, conversational in tone and enlivened by his reminiscences. Few would argue with the author’s belief that, in order to understand the Russian people, their history, and their future, it is both important and infinitely rewarding to study their art.

—Elise Kimerling Wirtschafter