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Catherine Mannick – (E-E) Evgenij Kozlov
Correspondence 1979 – 1990

(E-E) Evgenij Kozlov’s letters written in 1981 no longer exist, but there are several photographs and drawings from that year presented on this page.

Four pictures Kozlov sent his friend Catherine Mannick show his “Letopis” (“Chronicle”) solo and group exhibitions in February and March 1981. The venue was Timur Novikov’s room in a communal flat on Voinov Street, 24 (present-day Shpalernaya) in central Leningrad. The pictures belong to a photographic documentation of about thirty-five pictures kept in Kozlov’s archive that demonstrate the significance of the events to the artist. He also mentions them in his diaries, on 24 February 1981 (p. 2-48 more >>) and 21 March 1981 (p. 2-55 more >>), respectively. (See also: Works on paper, February 1981 >> • Letopis, March 1981 >>)

The images are insightful not only regarding the works depicted. They shed some light on an exhibition practise that became quite significant for Leningrad’s non-conformist or “unofficial” artists, especially in the ninety-seventies and first half of the ninety-eighties – “flat exhibitions” (квартирные выставки / kvartirnye vystavki). Before presenting the “Letopis” exhibition in more detail – and, in relation to it, the drawings from 1981 sent to Catherine Mannick – it’s worth having a look at this practise.

Leningrad flat exhibitions

Artists lacking an art school diploma – unofficial artists – were denied the status of a professional artist and, consequently, membership in the Union of Artists more >>. Therefore, opportunities to show their works publicly were rare. In Leningrad, two important exhibitions in the 1970s – at the Gaza House of Culture (1974) and the Nevsky House of Culture (1975) – remained exceptions to the rule. (See Gazanevsky art exhibitions External link >>)

In her article about Leningrad’s unofficial art, Tatyana Shekhter writes:

The harsh situation of the seventies, which caused the departure of the leaders of the unofficial movement in 1977-78, ended a romantic period in the history of the underground. The Ministry of Internal Affairs became seriously interested in the artists, and the city administration worked out finely calculated methods of combating nonconformism. The tactics of prohibition were replaced by the tactics of restriction and smart deterrence, the implementation of which was supposed to bring about the breakdown of unofficial art. Now the Department of Culture did not deny artists exhibitions, but set a condition – not to exhibit at the same time more than four or five authors. Only small, intimate exhibitions were allowed in the foyers of cinemas or clubs on the outskirts of the city. Rare micro-exhibitions scattered on the outskirts of the city did not give a complete picture of the [artistic] process and presented it as an inconsistent series of random laboratory searches of loners.[1]

To Kozlov, who belonged to the next generation of artists, the first opportunity to show his works publicly seems to have been an exhibition at the Palace of the Youth, about which he wrote in his diary on 28 March 1980:

It is hard to believe something like this can come about – there used to be too many barriers in the way whenever they tried to put on an exhibition of this size. (Diary I, pp. 1-37-38 more >>)

This entry corresponds to a document in his archive with the headline “catalogue card” that carries the same date and lists two works on paper for an exhibition entitled “White Nights”, followed by a question mark.

The name of the exhibition doesn't appear anywhere else – possibly, “White Nights” is identical with the so-called Olympic Exhibition from August 1980[2], about which Sergey Kovalsky, one of Leningrad’s most active organisers of exhibitions by “unofficial” artists, stated:

For the first time, “non-official” art was exhibited at the initiative of the authorities – in anticipation of foreign guests of the Olympics, who were due to arrive at the Olympic Games.[3]

Kozlov, however, didn’t expect too much from this public display of his works:

The psychological landscape of “Visions of the Night” would have been better suited to a personal exhibition or to an exhibition with fewer participants, as the meaning of the work is not immediately apparent, and in the midst of the large number of extremely varied works by other artists which differ greatly in terms of technique, meaning, and the artist’s style, it won’t be noticeable. People will walk by, unmoved. (Diary 1, p.1-36 more >>)
(For examples of monotypes from 1980 see Letter B and Letter C)

Showing works at private places was a welcome alternative. Flat exhibitions often lasted just for a day or a few days, but they allowed for the presentation of works in larger numbers and also uncensored. Thus, Kozlov occasionally showed his works to foreign students at Kolya Vlasov’s place in the centre of Leningrad. Catherine Mannick’s pictures from 1979 convey the relaxed atmosphere of Vlasov’s home. (See introduction 1. From Leningrad to Boston and Back).

On the other hand, an unusual number of visitors to a private flat could raise the suspicion of neighbours, police, and the KGB. The news about an exhibition spread by word of mouth, and to pretend that all guests were friends didn't necessarily help. In an article dedicated to Leningrad’s flat underground, Sergey Kovalsky relates how he started becoming engaged in flat exhibitions in the 1970s, and how this led to some problems with the police:

One day my grandmother got sick, and a room was vacated in our flat on Baskov Lane for a long time. […] The eleven-metre room was hung with paintings and graphics from floor to ceiling. First came friends. Then friends of friends. In the second month, complete strangers came. […] people called and called. More than 120 people had already visited us. It was a success! One day, when I returned home, I found a policeman in the hall, who was asking my mother something and writing it down on a piece of paper.
– What's the matter? - I asked. – Well, you've made some kind of mess here, people come to you endlessly, - the employee barked. I started to explain that only my friends came to see my paintings. …[4]

In Soviet cities, housing was allotted by the municipality. In the centre of Leningrad, the majority of buildings were large turn-of-the-century tenement houses, nationalised after the October Revolution and turned into communal flats with any number of tenants sharing the same kitchen and bathroom. Very often, a whole family had just one room, which severely restricted individual privacy.[5] Apparently, Kovalsky’s family lived in one of these communal flats, where his grandmother had been given a room of her own. Expecting her back, the city administration wouldn’t let it to someone else, and this is how it became Kovalsky’s temporary gallery.

In fact, finding a place for such an endeavour was another challenge, as Kovalsky recalls:

In the 70s, we were constantly busy looking for a one-day-in-three job^[6] that gave us time for creativity. For a workshop where you can paint pictures, or a flat where you can make an exhibition. You walk through the city, you see some kind of attic and immediately figure out whether it’s empty or not.
You see the dark windows of the flat, you think: maybe the owners are going to move and you can quickly manage to set up an exhibition [after they left]. It seemed to me that the air in the city was compressed into unbreathable blocks.
My soul was stirred by the atmosphere of Woodstock, which I could hardly imagine on the radio broadcasts of the Voice of America and the BBC. Jimi Hendrix's burning guitar, Janis Joplin's decency-stripping vocals, hippies, Flower children… I felt my involvement in everything that was happening “OUT THERE” – far away!![7]

A flat exhibition could be anything from a casual presentation of works by an individual artist to a scrupulously prepared group exhibition with a booklet or poster. With a line-up of sixty-two artists,^[8] the largest Leningrad flat exhibition – and a turning point in the history of unofficial artists’ self-organisation – was the “Bronnitskaya street” flat exhibition, which lasted just for a weekend, from 14 to 17 November 1981.

The full title of the exhibition was Осенняя квартирная выставка неофициальных художников на Бронницкой улице / Autumn Flat Exhibition of Unofficial Artists on Bronnitskaya Street. A typescript catalogue with an introduction, a photographic documentation and lists of artists and exhibits, including five of Kozlov’s works, is available online.[9] Kozlov mentioned the event in his diary as Открытие общегородской выставки Ленинградских неофициальных  художников / Opening of the citywide exhibition of Leningrad unofficial artists. (Diary II, p. 2-79 more >>)

Kovalsky, who was involved in its highly conspirative organisation, explains what was required:

1. Rooms should be large with high walls and the least amount of windows and furniture.
2. The flat must be separate or with resettled neighbours.
3. If possible, the flat has a back door (second exit).
4. The owners had to be from those who wanted to emigrate, but were not allowed to, so they had to attract the attention of the authorities in order to be kicked out of the country.
5. The owners had to be versed in legal issues and not be afraid of negative consequences.[10]

The artists finally found a building on Bronnitskaya street 1/3 that, awaiting renovation, had been almost completed vacated. Natalia Kononeko, the last tenant in her communal flat, agreed to house the exhibition.[11]  According to Kovalsky, the place fulfilled all conditions, with the exception of number four. Apparently, Natalia Kononeko was a rather courageous person.

Although many artists were involved in the project, the organisers managed to keep the place and date secret until the very opening – even to its participants. Furthermore, since the opening was scheduled for a Friday night, they counted on the fact that higher-ranking officers of the police and the KGB – those taking decisions – would not be in office over the weekend. “But on Monday”, as Tatiana Shekhter writes,

a guard was installed in the kitchen, checking the documents of visitors. Residents from neighbouring flats were asked to make a statement about the violation of public order by the artists. Having been refused, the lights and heating were turned off in the house. But this did not stop the visitors, and the inspection of the exhibition continued by candlelight.

She concludes:

The artists had to be on duty at night so that their paintings would not be removed and confiscated by the police. 2,000 people attended this exhibition, which was much more than expected. The exposition was closed as suddenly as it was opened. The paintings and the landlady were quickly taken out at night. It must be said that participation in this exhibition could have resulted in arrest, trial, stay in a colony, a psychiatric hospital for the artists – the range of possibilities was well known. And they were well aware of it. Therefore, the very fact of organising such an exhibition should be considered as a civil action by non-officials.[12]

It was worth taking the risk. The Bronnitskaya flat exhibition is considered to have been the kick-off for Leningrad’s first association of non-official artists – The Society for Experimental Visual Art, better known by its abbreviation TEII (ТЭИИ – Товарищество экспериментального изобразительного искусства)[13], of which Kovalsky became one of the founders.

Letopis / Chronicle

In the absence of anything comparable to a professional gallery system that would promote artists, whether “emerging” or “established”, artists had to promote themselves. In Letter B from the beginning of 1980, Kozlov mentions two more exhibitions:

My new exhibition took place recently. Of those drawings that you saw, there were only a few pieces, the rest are new. Everyone liked it. I’m thinking about setting up another exhibition by the end of February. It depends on the space and the money. (Letter B, p.3)

Naming people and places in letters seemed somewhat risky, and therefore we do not know more about the circumstances of these events (they aren’t mentioned in the diaries either). But it appears that Kozlov was looking for alternatives to Kolya Vlasov’s place. On the other hand, he would have much rather dedicated himself to drawing and painting than to organising his own exhibitions, especially since this meant arranging for everything without a private telephone and commuting from Peterhof to Leningrad a lot. Other artists enjoyed better working conditions and were more suitable for this job.

It is in the context of the “Olympic” exhibition that the name of Timur Novikov appears in Kozlov’s diaries for the first time, in March 1980 (Diary 1, p. 1-38). Novikov was to become one of Leningrad’s most active “underground art” organisers and a central figure in the artistic life of Saint Petersburg until his untimely death in 2002, at the age of forty-four. In the 1980s, Kozlov and Novikov were members of the same art group, “The New Artists”, and Kozlov painted several portraits of his friend, one now being in the collection of Muzeum Sztuki, Lodz more >>, and another one, his iconic “Portrait of Timur Novikov with Arms Consisting of Bones” in the collection of the Russian Museum, Saint Petersburg more >>. Kozlov’s correspondence with Catherine Mannick includes a number of painted photographs of Leningrad artists and musicians, also featuring Novikov. (See Letter J, Letter K, Letter L)

Novikov lived in the centre of town, on Liteney Avenue, where he shared a flat with his mother, but he also had a room at a short walking distance, in a communal flat on Voinov (Shpalernaya) street. Kozlov was quite familiar with what was generally called “Timur’s place on Voinоv street”, since he often came to see Novikov on his day trips to Leningrad and sometimes stayed there overnight. Novikov used the room as a studio and as a private gallery for the fourth (and last) exhibition of the Letopis (“Chronicle”) group, of which he was a member.

Letopis existed from 1977 to 1981. It was co-founded by Bob Koshelokhov, who left Leningrad in 1978 to marry an Italian aristocrat (he soon returned disenchanted). The group, having been denied a public exhibition in the House of Folk Art – as Shekhter writes, on the grounds of “the low level of their works”[14]  – made itself a name in 1978 by displaying their works on the street, next to the Cyril and Methodius Church.

Shekhter characterises the Letopis style in the following way “In the works of these artists, the intensity of expressionism is combined with the immediacy of folk art.”[15]

In the early 1980s, but especially in 1980-1981, (E-E) Evgenij Kozlov’s figurative art in fact displayed the bright, contrasting colours and festive atmosphere of folk art (see Letter B, Slides 1980-1983, Letter D). Their softly rounded geometric forms, defined by coloured shadows, are also found in some landscapes – a rather unusual genre in his later work.[16] A pastel drawing from 1980 and three lithographic crayon drawings from 1981, now in the Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies Special Collection, reflect this style.

Kozlov later called these years his “Russian period”. (See Letter C and Landscapes from the Russian Period,1981) Put differently, regarding style and subject matter, his art matched Shekhter’s description of the Letopis principles.

It is not clear when exactly Novikov invited Kozlov to join the group, but those thirty-five photographic prints in Kozlov’s archive make it very clear that the exhibition at Novikov’s place was significant to him. A closer look at the pictures reveals different hangings of the exhibits. The pictures were actually taken on different days and refer to two separate events, corresponding to different dates in Kozlov’s diaries: Kozlov’s solo exhibition from 24 February, 1981 (p. 2-48 more >>), and the Letopis group exhibition from 21 March 1981 (p. 2-55 more >>), respectively. Accordingly, the two solo exhibition pictures sent to Mannick are dated 24 February on the reverse – and, paradoxically, also signed “Letopis” – while the other two from March are simply dated 1981.

(E-E) Evgenij Kozlov and Elena Figurina selecting Kozlov‘s works for his one-man show at Timur Novikov’s place ("Assa Gallery"), 24 February 1981 more >>. Vintage print, 12.5 x 16 cm, 1981 Photo: Timur Novikov E-E archival number: E-E-pho-YC21-op Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies Special Collection, Harvard University Harvard Accession Number: KMFP_0040

Reverse of the picture, detail with note "Летопись" 24 Февраль 1981. В мастерской моего друга художника" / "Letopis (Chronicle)" 24 February 1981. In the studio of my artist friend.

The fact that the first date refers to Kozlov’s solo exhibition, as the artist himself remembers it, doesn't follow from the journal entry either. Beneath the date and the heading “Letopis” are the names of four artists: Elena Figurina, Bob Koshelokhov, Timur Novikov, and Evgenij Kozlov. Those twenty pictures taken on that occasion show that it was indeed a Letopis group meeting with the artists discussing Kozlov’s works on paper, from which they selected those to be displayed. Approximately twenty graphic works in passe-partouts were pinned to one of the larger walls, while others were set out on the floor on a piece of burlap. The artist’s camera is also present, more precisely, its open leather case, hanging from the shoulder strap next to the graphics. Kozlov had made it a habit to bring along his FED-2, a camera from the late 1950s inherited from his father. He used it extensively throughout the 1980s and processed and printed the black and white negative films in his small laboratory more >>.

If initially, the camera served him to document events and meetings with friends, he very soon started to convert the prints into painted collages and compiled two albums – “Sexpops“ (see Letter L) and “It’s the Fashion! 1984-1990” more >>. What is more, his photographs inspired his portraits and multifigure compositions through a complex process of transformation. Making his own pictures part of his artwork became a distinguishing feature of his art. [17]

Thanks to his engagement in photography, he was able to entertain Catherine Mannick with “visual” news of the people she knew, and, on top of that, of his activities with artists and musicians. Yet interestingly, he didn’t disclose their names in his letters until the very end of the 1980s. Thus, we read, on the reverse of one of the four Letopis pictures, “В мастерской моего друга художника / In the studio of my artist friend”, but only in 1989, Timur Novikov’s full name appears on the reverse of a picture, together with those of some other artists (see Letter Q).

Exchanging views on each other’s works of art was important, and it was indeed one of the reasons for artists to meet.[18] Kozlov mentions such а discussion on 17 March 1981, when preparations for the Letopis group exhibition were under way.

“Letopis”. Discussing the works, exhibition of the group,
Bringing Bob K.'s paintings to Timur N.
Was at Bob's house and saw a huge number of his paintings.
The colour, freedom of composition and boldness are amazing.  (Diary 2, p. 2-53 more >>)

A note from 21 March 1981 refers to “The opening of the Letopis group exhibition at Timur N.’s place”, completed with a line-up of six artists and the date of the finissage, 29 March. Apart from Figurina, Koshelokhov, Novikov and Kozlov, there are the names of Leonid Fedorov and a certain N (Diary II, page 2-55).

A poster Kozlov created for The Fourth Letopis Exhibition indicates N.’s full name – Nina Alekseeva – as well as the other opening days, 22 and 28 March; The poster is now in the collection of Maria Novikova-Savelyeva, Timur Novikov’s heir. Kozlov showed four paintings and twelve works on paper.

(E-E) Evgenij Kozlov Четвёртая выставка группы „Летопись“ Poster for The Fourth Letopis Exhibition, 1981, with list of participants The Timur Novikov Family Collection, Saint Petersburg

Novikov had subdivided the small, tube-like room by placing two cupboards at a right angle to the left and right walls, respectively. In this way, he designed two cabinets close to the entrance door. Each artist was given their own section, supplied with a large name tag. The cupboards provided some additional exhibition surface, and Kozlov had both sides of the one to the left.

A short note in his diary reminded him what to bring along: canvas for the hanging and a film with 130 units. (Diary II, p. 2-54, see above) The canvas to cover the cupboard was again burlap, and the negative film with 130 units corresponds to 160 ASA, a high speed needed for taking pictures indoors without a flash more >>.