
I went to see Rodchenko & Popova: Defining Constructivism at the Tate Modern the other day. It’s a nicely put together exhibition. Enough pieces but not too many, and the two artists’ stylistic progression flows clearly from room to room.
I was given an unwitting introduction to the show by Child 44, a book that I read a couple of weeks ago. Rob Tom Smith’s taut thriller is a murder mystery, set in Communist Russia – a state in where murder officially didn’t exist.
It was also a state where, deep in the bowels of the Lubyanka prison, loyalty was enforced by brutality. Where punishment was meted out before questions were asked. Where the slightest suspicion or the shakiest rumour of anti-Soviet activity resulted in torture and death. Where everyone, never mind intellectuals or artists, was viewed with mistrust.
And the art of this period – during Stalin’s reign – reflected this fear, this need for overt displays of loyalty to the state. Monumental statues, flattering portraits, celebratory friezes.
And the art of this period – during Stalin’s reign – reflected this fear, this need for overt displays of loyalty to the state. Monumental statues, flattering portraits, celebratory friezes.
But the Constructivists belonged to a different period. Tsarist rule had come to an end, Lenin had led the revolution, Russia was starting afresh. For this new dawn, Rodchenko and Popova created a new style – a style that looked towards the future with optimism and boldness.
Slogans are enlivened with sharp linear designs, audacious perspectives, and photography taken from unusual angles. The Constructivists’ art is challenging, but it is also rooted in everyday life. It is useful, it is purposeful – and it speaks to the people without patronising them.
Slogans are enlivened with sharp linear designs, audacious perspectives, and photography taken from unusual angles. The Constructivists’ art is challenging, but it is also rooted in everyday life. It is useful, it is purposeful – and it speaks to the people without patronising them.
To reach the masses, Rodchenko and Popova refused to restrict themselves to one specialism but rather worked across a number of fields – posters, clothes, furniture, film idents, theatre sets and costumes.
Their approach struck a chord with me. Experimenting with various disciplines and techniques. Applying what they learnt when working on a billboard and applying it to designing a teacup. Ignoring superficial differences and instead seeing connections.
Their approach struck a chord with me. Experimenting with various disciplines and techniques. Applying what they learnt when working on a billboard and applying it to designing a teacup. Ignoring superficial differences and instead seeing connections.
For me, the things I like – the things I attempt to write about here – only make sense when linked together. Music, film, art, adverts, books… not isolated elements, but connected forms. All containing words, sights and sounds. Which feed into and off each other. And create one shape.
The Constructivists acknowledged the existence of this interconnected shape. By seeing it, they could reach millions of people with their work.
And I think we should all see it, too. By spotting connection between things, we can understand them more, enjoy them more – and, most importantly, discover other things just like them.
The Constructivists acknowledged the existence of this interconnected shape. By seeing it, they could reach millions of people with their work.
And I think we should all see it, too. By spotting connection between things, we can understand them more, enjoy them more – and, most importantly, discover other things just like them.




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