The Desert of Forbidden Art reviews
Review by on 23 Sep 2010
Deep in central Asia, in the former Soviet principality of
Karakalpakstan, lies an art museum filled with a vast array of
stunning and unconventional art; work that should have been banned or
destroyed under Russia’s totalitarian Communist regime. How did this
art get there and who created this forbidden treasure half buried in
this arid region’s sand? THE DESERT OF FORBIDDEN ART is Amanda Pope and
Tchavdar Georgiev’s documentary that aims to tell the story of the
Museum’s curator, Igor Savitsky, a painter turned collector who had to
set up his museum in the middle of the desert to escape Moscow’s iron
grip.
The documentary explores the lives of artists whose work is displayed
in the gallery, giving an in-depth feel for what soviet era life was
like for those with a desire to create art with an anti-communist
aesthetic. Risking exile, the gulags or even death, the film evokes
the sacrifice these people made for their profession.
It is curious to note that the most remote figure in this film is
Savitsky himself. Apart from being portrayed as a relentless
workaholic, little else is revealed about his personal life. Some may
find it too brisk a skim over an often ignored figure in the history
of art. Whilst many will applaud the filmmaker’s decision to focus on
the great man’s achievements. However, for those not so familiar with
the subject matter, this is an accessible and informative documentary
about an extraordinary man and his enduring legacy.
Liam Jack
Karakalpakstan, lies an art museum filled with a vast array of
stunning and unconventional art; work that should have been banned or
destroyed under Russia’s totalitarian Communist regime. How did this
art get there and who created this forbidden treasure half buried in
this arid region’s sand? THE DESERT OF FORBIDDEN ART is Amanda Pope and
Tchavdar Georgiev’s documentary that aims to tell the story of the
Museum’s curator, Igor Savitsky, a painter turned collector who had to
set up his museum in the middle of the desert to escape Moscow’s iron
grip.
The documentary explores the lives of artists whose work is displayed
in the gallery, giving an in-depth feel for what soviet era life was
like for those with a desire to create art with an anti-communist
aesthetic. Risking exile, the gulags or even death, the film evokes
the sacrifice these people made for their profession.
It is curious to note that the most remote figure in this film is
Savitsky himself. Apart from being portrayed as a relentless
workaholic, little else is revealed about his personal life. Some may
find it too brisk a skim over an often ignored figure in the history
of art. Whilst many will applaud the filmmaker’s decision to focus on
the great man’s achievements. However, for those not so familiar with
the subject matter, this is an accessible and informative documentary
about an extraordinary man and his enduring legacy.
Liam Jack
Review by on 20 Sep 2010
This documentary's content left me feeling that, despite talking about Stalin's propaganda, it was a sort of propaganda in itself, very much in the style of Schindler's List. A polarisation of that kind must tend to mask the true picture.
The film told how Savitsky worked on his paintings during breaks from archaelogical digs, but it was far from clear how a more emiment painter's demolition of these works left him with still the confidence to judge merit in the art world, and so begin collecting what he thought worthwhile, whereas he had believed the criticism and destroyed his
own art.
I am afraid that I just do not buy this idea that there were any clear rights or wrongs in all this. We were told that one artist was denounced by another, and that this was not known to his own sons until they were shot on camera reacting to (what were said to be) official files in which, in transcripts of interviews, he identified that artist's anti-Soviet attitudes.
Yet the sons somehow participated until that point without any knowledge of their father's trying to save his skin by 'co-operating' in this way (ultimately unsuccessfully, since he was denounced in his turn). (He had represented those working on projects such as irrigation channels, in which there would inevitably have been forced labour and a death-toll, as Soviet ideals, but the images were turned against him as uglifying USSR's citizens.)
Other things just did not ring true: the whole way in which Savitsky was supposed to have used influence to get funding both to establish his museum and pay for exhibits for it made no sense, and was utterly implausible; likewise, his collecting works and taking them (and how he took them) to Nukus without any official troubling about it; and, for me, the entire hagiography surrounding him, his life and death, which the glowingly anti-USSR US journalist seemed to want to accept for the wrong reasons.
In addition, that speaker seemed to have no notion that it was hypocritical in the extreme to blame a Soviet regime for ruining the Aral Sea's ecology, as if his country’s energy policy is blameless, and such willingness to believe a black-and-white picture seemed naive. In that vein, we were told, without explanation, that a female artist's work
depicting Soviet labour camps had not only survived unscathed, but asked to credit that Savitsky had cleverly passed it off as depicting Nazi camps.
A minor irritation was also not easily working out who was who - some speakers were introduced, but only identified, and to be told that someone on screen was the artist X's son when it was not clear who X was also didn't help. In addition, to have the two sons talking about what Savitsky did in relation to the artists (or relatives from whom he acquired works) just reinforced one's uncertainty as to both how they would have known this, and whether, at any given time, they had started talking about their artist father or Savitsky.
The film told how Savitsky worked on his paintings during breaks from archaelogical digs, but it was far from clear how a more emiment painter's demolition of these works left him with still the confidence to judge merit in the art world, and so begin collecting what he thought worthwhile, whereas he had believed the criticism and destroyed his
own art.
I am afraid that I just do not buy this idea that there were any clear rights or wrongs in all this. We were told that one artist was denounced by another, and that this was not known to his own sons until they were shot on camera reacting to (what were said to be) official files in which, in transcripts of interviews, he identified that artist's anti-Soviet attitudes.
Yet the sons somehow participated until that point without any knowledge of their father's trying to save his skin by 'co-operating' in this way (ultimately unsuccessfully, since he was denounced in his turn). (He had represented those working on projects such as irrigation channels, in which there would inevitably have been forced labour and a death-toll, as Soviet ideals, but the images were turned against him as uglifying USSR's citizens.)
Other things just did not ring true: the whole way in which Savitsky was supposed to have used influence to get funding both to establish his museum and pay for exhibits for it made no sense, and was utterly implausible; likewise, his collecting works and taking them (and how he took them) to Nukus without any official troubling about it; and, for me, the entire hagiography surrounding him, his life and death, which the glowingly anti-USSR US journalist seemed to want to accept for the wrong reasons.
In addition, that speaker seemed to have no notion that it was hypocritical in the extreme to blame a Soviet regime for ruining the Aral Sea's ecology, as if his country’s energy policy is blameless, and such willingness to believe a black-and-white picture seemed naive. In that vein, we were told, without explanation, that a female artist's work
depicting Soviet labour camps had not only survived unscathed, but asked to credit that Savitsky had cleverly passed it off as depicting Nazi camps.
A minor irritation was also not easily working out who was who - some speakers were introduced, but only identified, and to be told that someone on screen was the artist X's son when it was not clear who X was also didn't help. In addition, to have the two sons talking about what Savitsky did in relation to the artists (or relatives from whom he acquired works) just reinforced one's uncertainty as to both how they would have known this, and whether, at any given time, they had started talking about their artist father or Savitsky.
Film details
The Desert of Forbidden Art
DOCUMENTARIES
Director: Amanda Pope
Director: Tchavdar Georgiev
Director: Tchavdar Georgiev
Russia, 2010.
80 mins. English and Russian with English subtitles.
Back to the film page
