In his 1984 article “From Faktura to Factography,” art historian Benjamin Buchloh explores the influential power of art and the responsibility of the artist. Is the artist culpable in the effects of their art, and should academics attempt to “rehabilitate” the artist’s image? These questions may not be the actual thesis of Buchloh’s essay, but they are the questions I was left thinking. History is full of problematic artists, and art historians need to confront the issues, not cover-up.
Buchloh begins his essay by providing a brief history of Faktura. Faktura was first described by artist and theorist David Burliuk in 1912. To Burliuk it was rooted in the French idea of facture; this was the passive understanding of the materiality of an object: its texture, the material used in the production, size, etc. Burliuk made the concept active by introducing alien materials and textures (such as dirt, sticks, and paper) onto his canvases. Yet, Burliuk was a painter and his idea of Faktura was limited only to painting.
Artist Voldemārs Matvejs expanded on the idea of Faktura, and refocused it to be Russian in origin, by claiming that Russian Orthodox Icons were the first works of Faktura art. This was important in two ways. First, it meant that Russian artists were working with a Slavic concept, not a European idea. Many Slavs at the time saw themselves as being Asiatic, not European. Second, the Faktura elements in icons (inlaid gems for example) shifted the idea of faktura art into a more sculptural direction. It was no longer exclusively a two-dimensional concept. Vladimir Tatlin ran with the idea that Faktura was sculptural, producing “counter-reliefs” from carefully assembled, found materials.
Faktura turned into Constructivism with the Revolution of 1917. Tatlin, along with other artists such as Alexander Rodchenko and El Lissitzky altered the definition of Faktura to fit the new social order. The new art, Constructivism, was produced from common, mostly industrial materials; it was meant to serve the proletariat. But this new art was complex, abstract, and not easily understood by the masses. Much of this art was abstract and experimental. It was seen as an elite art at a time when being elite, because of Stalinism, was dangerous.
To address this lack of clarity, Rodchenko and El Lissitzky created Photo Montage. This new art was clearer in its messaging: state-sponsored propaganda. It served the higher goals of the socialist revolution and it was more understood by the masses. Photo Montage was exported to Germany, Italy, and later the rest of the world. It was a tool of the communists at first, but the fascists saw its power too.
Buchloh examines the history of Faktura in the Russian Avant-garde, its failures and transformation into Factography, and Factography’s collision with authoritarian Stalinism, Italian and German Fascism, and American Imperialist Capitalism. He also seeks to understand how culpable Rodchenko and El Lissitzky were in their facilitation of the Stalin regime. Buchloh often references Walter Benjamin’s “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” in his essay.
Walter Benjamin wrote about the power of reproducible media in “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.” Benjamin knew the power this new media had in influencing the proletariat. He encouraged the production of socialist propaganda for the purpose of awakening the class consciousness of the masses. Benjamin also knew the harm it could cause. He warned that Fascist states could also produce their own propaganda. In addition, the capitalists (seen by Benjamin as no better than the fascists) had the power to control the masses and keep them in a sedated state with this powerful, reproducible media.
Rodchenko and El Lissitzky’s art caused harm when embraced by Stalin, the fascists, and by the capitalists. When Stalin became the dictator of the USSR, he was in favor of Socialist Realism, a more realistic style of art. Rodchenko and El Lissitzky fell in line and worked in a sub-genre called Factography. Factography documented the greatness of the Soviet industry in the photographic medium. Their work can be seen in the government publication USSR in Construction. The publication was a propaganda magazine which shared stories of Soviet progress with the rest of the world.
Stalin was a ruthless tyrant, and the large projects documented by Rodchenko and El Lissitzky resulted in hundreds of thousands of deaths. Were they culpable in these crimes? Art historians in the later twentieth century excused or tried to justify the artists’ choices. The art historians wrote that they did not know what their work was doing, or that they did not know about the deaths that were happening around them. The artists’ own letters in these times express their continued commitment to the Socialist cause and to their work for the government. Buchloh writes, “the letters we know Lissitzky to have written… indicate that he was as enthusiastically at work in fashioning the propaganda for Stalin’s regime.” Rodchenko documented the construction of the White Sea Canal, and during his first year on the project, over one hundred thousand laborers died because of unsafe conditions. Many were forced laborers.
Buchloh wrote, “A revision of this comfortable distortion of history is long overdue.” Efforts by art historians to defend, rewrite, or “rehabilitate” problematic artists is disingenuous. It is even a disservice to the artists to distort their genuine political beliefs. When the art of these artists carries this ethical baggage, academics must also not aestheticize their work and erase the artist’s intentions. Unlike Rodchenko and El Lissitzky, Tatlin refused to be a pawn of the state and he continued to work in poverty. We must remember the power of art and the responsibility of the artist, when addressing their work.
-Sam Veremchuk
Sources
Benjamin, Walter. The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. London: Penguin Books, 2008.
Buchloh, Benjamin. “Faktura to Factography.” October 30, no. Autumn 1984: 82–119.
The George Fisk Comfort Society 