Russian market for old art sees new life

MALYY GORODOK, Russia -- The painting exudes the sweet softness of idyllic village life: A mother, towel wrapped around her head, braids her daughter's hair while a young woman draws a red comb through her own tresses. A girl in a dark dress carries a samovar for tea, a little girl drinks from a white cup, and a cat makes its presence known.

Yuri Kugach, 90, still remembers the inspiration for one of his most famous paintings. He was visiting the home of a fisherman when he saw the women of the house making themselves up after a visit to the banya, or Russian-style steam bath.

"I said to myself, 'This is a painting,' " he recalled four decades later.

Today, his works and those of other Soviet painters who produced technically skilled art in the happy-worker style often dubbed Socialist Realism are riding a wave of popularity. In a development that bygone communist leaders might not have found amusing, wealthy Moscow capitalists are sharply bidding up prices -- as high as $200,000 -- as they scramble to acquire pieces.

Kugach's life as one of the most well-known Soviet artists was cemented more than half a century ago when he moved into the home of a peasant family in this tiny lakeside village surrounded by birch and pine forests 250 miles northwest of Moscow.

He has been based here ever since, creating landscapes and some overtly political works such as paintings glorifying Soviet dictator Josef Stalin, but above all chronicling the life of peasants in a style that emphasized the satisfying aspects of their existence, such as the scene of women and girls after enjoying the banya.

Yuri Tyukhtin, 39, a banker who also runs a gallery specializing in Soviet art, said such paintings were trendy because "people feel nostalgia for the USSR."

"The characters are healthy and enlightened," Tyukhtin said. "The art was propaganda of happiness, and the people who were doing it were doing it sincerely."

Today's buyers are members of Russia's emerging upper middle class, who often want paintings to decorate their urban apartments and countryside dachas, or collectors among the country's new super-rich who see art as an investment and a hobby.

Alexei Ananyev, a wealthy collector who is chairman of Promsvyazbank, said he had noticed the growing popularity of Soviet art in the prices he must pay. But the paintings are still a good investment, he said.

"People are investing in real estate," Ananyev said. "And when they have enough funds to invest, some of them start investing into fine arts. But this increase is motivated by people's desire to obtain something which they can understand and love. With this kind of art they feel at home, as it describes their lives and the reality they live or lived in."

When Kugach and his wife moved to this village a few years after World War II, he started painting the rituals of daily life -- mothers near cradles, children playing, weddings, and funerals.

"It was not just village life for me," he said. "It was the life of the Russian people."

Kugach's 68-year-old son, Mikhail, who also is a famous artist, recently sold Ananyev a painting he had held for 45 years depicting a young ticket collector late at night in a nearly empty trolley bus, deeply engaged in reading a book. She is illuminated with a bit more light than the rest of the bus, projecting a touch of holiness.

It was a scene he saw often, because "at that moment, education was given a lot of attention, and everybody was trying to read and get educated at any time," Mikhail Kugach said.

Ananyev said he liked the painting because the artist "managed to convey all her feelings -- her fatigue, but her desire to read even in the dark, cold trolley bus."

Leonid Shishkin, 60, director of an art gallery bearing his name, is among the pioneers in turning Soviet-era art into a commercial business. He began selling art to Western dealers in 1988, launched a gallery for private sales a few years later and opened his gallery to the public in 1995.

"Paintings were hidden in artists' family apartments, behind sofas, under beds," Shishkin said. "And this art that nobody ever saw became the merchandise we began to look for and find and sell."

There were five galleries in Moscow dealing in Soviet art 10 years ago, 10 galleries five years ago, and there are 50 galleries today, Shishkin said.

Alexander Nekrassov, 45, owner of Arbat Prestige, a chain of large cosmetic stores, said he buys paintings that depict "the real life of the Soviet people, in love and happiness, in work, in families."

The upbeat flavor of much Soviet art only adds to its appeal for such collectors.

"I have a country house, and it will harmonize with nature around the house and the house itself, and it's characteristic of the time of my parents' lives. They will be very pleased," said Dmitry Ivanov, 35, a real estate manager who bought several paintings showing oil-industry workers. "I would like the memory of those times to continue to live," Ivanov said.