Let us first, however, briefly complete the history of the institution on the Nicholas Embankment. Toward 1910 a reaction set in against the anarchy of the “wanderers” and in favor of a classic revival, of a rehabilitation of craftmanship. This movement was of short duration, however, for the October Revolution abolished the Academy and established free studios upon its ruins, the management of which was placed in the hands of artists who supported the Communist regime. On the day of its death the Russian Imperial Academy was more than 150 years old.
Thus, at the Fine Arts School, Bakst found a training that clung to unchanged formulæ, but that was decadent, inert, and lifeless. He spent three months drawing from bas=reliefs and one year sketching models. Then, after having passed the class in costumes and copied draped mannequins, he was admitted to the studio class. His teacher, Tchistiakoff, did not encourage him to continue; he considered Bakst a promising sculptor, and whenever his pupil tried to talk painting to him, he would invariably turn the conversation to sculpture. Tchistiakoff’s colleague, Venig, was more far=sighted and, while disapproving of a certain vivacity and truculence of colors which netted young Bakst the ironical title of “Rubens newly ground”, he was not unfriendly to him. This meant a great deal, for it was impossible to think of any more intimate relations—any communion of ideas or of feelings—between the pope=like officials and their pupils who were as yet unknown quantities.
Far more important were his relations with his fellow students, especially with the class that was about to leave. At school and at his paternal home he had been placed in a position of isolation because of his artistic aspirations; here he found himself surrounded by young people devoted to that same art that was viewed with such suspicion by the Russian intellectuals of yesteryear. At the Academy Bakst met Nesteroff who, following Vasnetzoff and contemporaneous with Vroubel, was to attempt a revival of the ikon,—a revival which, besides proving abortive, was more in the nature of sentimental and artificial imitation. This craze for old national art went hand in hand among certain students with a strong animosity against the “métèques”; besides, anti-Semitism was officially encouraged and stimulated, since it served to side=track the hatred which was more and more undermining the autocratic power. Bakst, sensitive and meticulous, was grieved at this. He therefore clung all the more closely to Seroff, several years his senior, who was finishing his education and who aspired to winning the Grand Prize for Painting—the gold medal. This future portraitist was a son of the celebrated musician whose masterpiece, “Judith”, is known to Parisians only by partial selections. Already he had achieved, in the eyes of his fellow students, the intellectual and moral prestige that was due to the uprightness—albeit somewhat morose—of his character and the tenacity of his effort. Soon, indeed, he came to the forefront of his generation.
This man, already matured, reserved, and little given to effusive outbursts, took a fancy to the red haired young lad. The pair would sit together in the studio; they would spend the evenings chatting in the modest students’ apartment where Seroff lived and drinking plenty of tea. Those were the happy days! They lasted for eighteen months. Clouds were, however, gathering over the head of Bakst who had already given repeated offense to his superiors by his whims of independence. A free competition was announced in which “The Madonna Weeping Over Christ” was to be the subject and the Grand Medal of silver the prize. Bakst joined the competitors.
He sought inspiration from those artists of his time who had attempted a revival of religious subjects by displaying a realistic setting—thus breaking away from the iconographic traditions of the Renaissance—, by giving care to ethnographic detail, by minutely studying the expression observed. These artists included Repine and Polienoff in Russia, and Munkaczy abroad. But, carried away by a youthful enthusiasm, he wished to go beyond the fastidious and cautious realism of these painters and make a ten=strike.
He therefore chose a canvas of enormous dimensions—almost seven feet in length—and plunged into his work. For the characters of the legend he set down Jewish types that were obviously overdone, and imparted
VII
“MODERN DRESS” (A “FANTAISIE”)