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i
Second Appendix to Catalogue of the.
Verestchagin Exhibition.
REALISM.
BY
VASSILI VERESTCHAGIN.
AMERICAN ART GALLERIES,
NEW YORK.
1889.
The Artist is indebted for the translation of this
pamphlet to the kindness of his friend,
MRS. MA CG A HAN.
Second Appendix to Catalogue of the
Verestchagin Exhibition.
REALISM.
AMERICAN ART GALLERIES,
NEW YORK.
1889.
Copyright, 1888, by
AMERICAN ART ASSOCIATION.
Press of J. J. Little & Co.
Astor Place, New York.
REALISM.
EALISM—realism ! " How very often do
we hear this term, and yet how seldom
does it appear to be applied understand-
ingly.
" What do you take realism to be ? " I asked a
well educated lady in Berlin, who had been talking
a great deal about realism and the realists in art.
The lady did not seem to be ready with an answer,
since she could only reply that " A realist is he who
represents subjects in a realistic manner."
I hold, though, that the art of representing subjects
in a realistic manner does not entitle a person to
the name of realist. And, in order to illustrate my
meaning, I may present the following example:
When the war of the British with the Zulus came
to an end, there could be found no man among the
prominent English artists who would take upon him¬
self the task of committing to canvas that epopee
enacted between the whites and blacks, and so the
English had to have recourse to a very talented
4
Realism.
French artist. They gave him money, and explained
to him that such and such were the uniforms and the
arms of the English soldiers, and such and such were
the clothing, or what represents clothing, among the
Zulus. Then, eye-witnesses to the military encoun¬
ters told the Frenchman of what consisted the back¬
ground to the affair in each case, most likely sup¬
plementing their accounts with photographic views.
Armed with this information the artist set to work,
without having the least personal knowledge of the
country he was going to reproduce, nor of the types,
the peculiarities, or the customs of Zululand. With
much assurance the artist went on with his task and
turned out several lively pictures in which there are
a great many men attacking an enemy—defending
itself; a great number of dead and wounded;
much blood ; much gunpowder-smoke, and all that
kind of thing, yet, with all this, there is total lack of
the principal thing : there are no Britishers nor Zulus
to be found in the pictures. Instead of the former we
behold Frenchmen dressed up in British uniforms,
and instead of Zulus, the ordinary Parisian negro-
models, reproduced in various more or less warlike
attitudes.
Well, is that realism ? No.
Most artists, besides, do not take sufficient pains
to reproduce the true light under which the events
they treat have really taken place. Thus, such
scenes as are taken up in the just mentioned pict¬
ures—scenes of battles under the intolerably torrid
Realism.
5
sun of Africa, are being painted by the grayish light
of European studios. Of course the sunlight, and the
numerous peculiar effects dependent on it, cannot
prove successful in such a case and the effect is
lost.
Is that realism then ? Certainly not.
*******
I go further, and assert that in cases where there
exists but a bare representation of a fact or of an
event , without idea, without generalization, there
can possibly be found some qualities of realistic ex¬
ecution, but of realism there would be none: of that
intelligent realism, I mean, which is built on ob¬
servation and on facts—in opposition to idealism,
which is founded on impressions and affirmations,
established a priori.
Now, can any one bring the reproach against me
that there is no idea, no generalization in my works ?
Hardly.
Can anyone say that I am careless about the types,
about the costumes, about the landscape of the
scenes represented by me? That I don't study out
beforehand the personages, the surroundings figur¬
ing in my works ? Hardly so.
Can anyone say that, with me, any scene, taking
place in reality in the broad sunlight, had been
painted by studio light—that a scene, taking place
under the frosty skies of the North, is reproduced in
the warm inclosure of four walls ? Hardly so.
Consequently, I can claim to be a representative
6
Realism.
of realism, such realism as requires the most severe
manipulating of all the details of creation, and which
not only does not exclude an idea, but implies it.
That I am not alone in such an estimate of my
work, is proved by the following lines, from a corre-
pondent to an American paper,* sent from Paris at
the time of the last exposition of my paintings in
that city:
" The respect shown to certain pictured ideals—
the ideals of a painter so foreign to Parisian conven¬
tions as Verestchagin—is noted as a pleasing indica¬
tion of departure from the gross realism that was
beginning to obtain in French art. Mr. Dargenty, of
' Courrier de l'Art,' does not consider Verestchagin
as a 'seducing ' painter, but concedes to him knowl¬
edge and talent, and declares that for his part he
prefers the refinement of an idea to the 'brutal ex¬
pression of vulgar realism.' He hopes for a reaction
and believes that the crowd that ' precipitated ' itself
in the exposition of Mr. Verestchagin ' heralded ' a
running victory for the idea."
Still more notable was the judgment of the Lon¬
don " Christian " of December 2d, 1887—a view hav¬
ing all the more interest to me because of the special
character of the paper that published it:
" These paintings are the work of a Russian,
Verestchagin, a painter equal to any of his contem¬
poraries in artistic ability, and beyond any painter
* Sunday Express, Albany, 22 July, 1888.
Realism.
7
who ever lived in the grandeur of his moral aims
and the application of his lessons to the consciences
of all who take the least pains to understand him.
*******
I will only say that he who misses seeing these
paintings will miss the best opportunity he may
ever have of understanding the age in which he lives;
for if ever the nineteenth century has had a prophet,
it is the Russian painter, Verestchagin."
I repeat it: I cite this last passage expressedly in
consideration of its character, as an opinion
emitted by a specially religious organ, an opinion
made all the more significant in view of the attacks
to which I had been submitted by people striving
to prove themselves greater papists than the Pope.
*******
Realism is not antagonistic to anything that is
held dear by the contemporary man—it does not
clash with common sense, with science, nor with
religion. Can anyone have anything but the deepest
reverence for the teachings of Christ concerning the
Father and Creator of all that exists—to the golden
rule of Christian charity ?
It is true that we are enemies of bigotry, of all
ostentatious, assumed piety ; but who is it that can
blame us for this since Christ himself has said:
" But when ye pray, u«e not vain repetitions as
the heathen do; for they think they shall be heard
for their much speaking." *
* St. Matthew, VI. : 7.
8
Realism.
As can be easily conceived, we have a different
estimation of many things that were being explained
in another way some hundreds of years ago. The
infancy of science and, consequently, of the entire
conception of the universe can interest us now, but
it can no more direct us; at the threshold of the
twentieth century, we can no longer admit that the
skies above are peopled by saints and by angels ;
that the interior of the earth is occupied by devils
engaged in their task of roasting the sinners of the
world. We refuse even to accept, in its literal sense,
the ancient idea of rewards for good deeds and that
of torments in slow fires, as punishment for evil
deeds.
In our capacity of artists we don't deny the ideals
of the past ages and of the ancient masters. On the
contrary, we give them an honorable place in the
history of art; but we refuse to imitate them for the
very simple reason that everything is good in its
own time, and that the realism of one century
already bears in itself the germs of the idealism of
the next.
The very same masters who are held to be great
idealists in art—have not they been great realists in
their own time ?
Who would risk the assertion that Raphael was
not a realist in the age in which he lived ; that his
works did not scandalize many of his contem¬
poraries, whose tastes were formed on the forms of
primitive masters?
Realism.
9
And Rubens, who transgressed all limits of con¬
temporary decency, and that, not only in his capac¬
ity of painter, but even as a thinker ? I hope no
one would be ready to question the fact that his
powerful but one-sided genius has intermingled the
types of the personalities of the Christian religion
with those of the heathenish mythology; that his
God the Father is the same as his Jupiter of
Olympus ; that they are portraits of the very same
red-cheeked studio model; that his Virgin and his
Hebe—one may even say his Venus—are all person¬
alities of the same type, all alike red-cheeked, hand¬
some and self-satisfied ! Who would deny that
Rubens, having peopled the Christian heavens with
heavy, buxom, healthy and very immodest ladies
and gentlemen, had reversed all traditions and thus
had shown himself to be a talented, powerful realist
in his time? Doubtlessly, he bewildered and scan¬
dalized a good many of his pious contemporaries.
And Rembrandt! and the rest of them, all of
whom are now held to be idealists, more or less so :
was not each one of them a representative of realism
in his time, realism that has been considerably
smoothed down in our days by the hand of time on
one side and the onward march of our self-conscious¬
ness on the other ?
Who would think nowadays of reproaching those
painters for all that boldness, which certainly had
proved astounding to their contemporaries? And
yet how many were the disputes concerning those
IO
Realism.
painters, how many lances have been broken in
their behalf! As we look back now all that seems
strange to us. But is not all that a sign of what
awaits the noted works of our own time? These
also were received inimically, were proclaimed to be
too far-reaching, too bold, too realistic, yet will
not they also in their turn acquire lasting strength
under the influence of onward marching thought
and technics ? Will not the day come when they
will also find themselves, unawares, in the archives
of old ideals ?
-x- * * -x- * *
But we have to count with our irascible and
exacting contemporaries. It is generally held to be
unpardonable boldness — quite a scandalous pro¬
ceeding in fact — to recede from formulas, recog¬
nized by successive generations, through centuries.
Novelists, painters, sculptors, musicians, are all alike
invited to make compromises with triviality and
absurdity which invariably retard the development
of the idea and of the technics.
Even such persons as grudgingly admit that we
also are " men of thoughts," that we also are " men
of well developed technics," even they express
their regrets that we should prove false to the tradi¬
tions of the old masters; that we should not follow
the tenets consecrated by great names.
Yes, it is true: we differ in many ways ; we think
differently, we are bolder in our generalization of the
facts of the past, the present and the future; we
Realism.
even work differently and transfer our impressions in
a different manner.
Can we take it now in its literal sense—the gener¬
ally accepted conception of God, who had once
assumed the form of Man, and is now sitting on the
right hand of the Father Almighty, with all the
hosts of saints and angels gathered around Him ?
Can we admit as facts the idea of all those thrones
that surpass in richness the celebrated thrones of the
Great Moguls of India ? Can we admit now the
idea of all those splendid vestments, adorned with
embroidery, with pearls and precious stones and all
that in the clouds ? Can we sincerely and artlessly
represent to ourselves the saints that are supposed
to sit on those same clouds as on arm-chairs and
sofas, likewise in the richest attire — saints who
would be found thus amidst the luxurious sur¬
roundings that were so distasteful to them in their
life on earth.
All those splendid garments, all those gilded sur¬
roundings, held out as everlasting rewards for virtue
practiced on earth—don't they appear to us quite
childish now, not to say wholly inconsistent with
good taste ?
* tt -X- -X- -X- -X- *
A good deal has been written about my works:
many were the reproaches brought against my paint¬
ings, those treating of religious subjects as well
as of military. And yet they were, all of them,
painted without any preconceived idea,—were
12
Realism.
painted only because their subjects interested me.
The moral in each case appeared afterwards, com¬
ing up of its own account, from the very truthful¬
ness of impressions.
Now, for instance, I have seen Emperor Alexan¬
der II. on five consecutive days, as he sat on a little
knoll—the battle-field spreading out before him—
watching, with field-glass in hand, first the bom¬
bardment, and then the storming of the enemy's
positions. This, surely, was also the way in which
the old German Emperor attended battles,— as well
as his son, that admirable man, the late Frederick
of Germany. Of this I have even been assured by
eye-witnesses. Certainly, it would be ridiculous to
suppose that an Emperor assisting at battles would
canter about brandishing his sword as a young en¬
sign, and yet the desire has been attributed to me
to undermine by my picture the prestige of the sov¬
ereign in the eyes of the masses, who are prone to
imagine their Emperor prancing on a fiery steed, in
times of danger, in the very thick of the fight.
I have represented the bandaging and the transport¬
ing of the wounded exactly as I have seen it done and
have felt it in my own person when wounded, ban¬
daged and transported in the most primitive man¬
ner. And yet, that again has been declared to be a
gross exaggeration, a calumny.
I observed during several days how prisoners
were slowly freezing to death on a road extending
over thirty miles. I called- the attention of the
Realism. 13
American artist, Frank D. Millet, who was on the
spot, to that scene; and when he afterwards saw my
painting he declared it to be strikingly correct; yet
for that painting I have been treated to such abuse
as would not admit of repetition in print.
I have seen a priest performing the last religious
rites on a battle-field over a mass of killed, plundered,
mutilated soldiers, who had just given up their life
in the defense of their country; and that scene
again—a picture which I had painted, literally, with
tears in my eyes—has been also proclaimed in high
quarters to be the product of my imagination, a
downright falsehood.
My lofty accusers did not deign to pay any atten¬
tion to the fact that the lie was given them by that
same priest who, disgusted with the accusations
against me, declared—and that in the presence of
the public standing before the picture—that it was
he who had been performing those last rites over
the massed bodies of the killed soldiers—had done
it in the very surroundings reproduced in my pict¬
ure. Yet, notwithstanding all this, my picture bare¬
ly escaped being ejected from the exposition, and
when afterwards it was intended to publish all those
pictures in colored prints, the officials put their veto
on the scheme, for fear that those cheap prints should
find their way among the masses.
It should not be imagined, however, that that in¬
dignation prevailed exclusively in Russian high
spheres. It was a very well known Prussian gen-
14
Realism.
eral who advised Emperor Alexander II. to have all
my military paintings burned, as objects of a most
pernicious kind.
*******
There were still more inimical commentaries on
those of my pictures which treat of religious sub¬
jects. Yet have I attacked the Christian morals?
No—I hold these very highly. Have I attacked the
idea of Christianity or its founder ? No—I have the
highest respect for them. Have I tried to detract
from the significance of the Cross ? No—this would
be a sheer impossibility.
I have traveled all over the Holy Land with the
book of the Gospels in my hand ; I have visited all
the places sanctified, centuries ago, by the presence
of our Saviour in them. Consequently, I must have,
and do have, my own ideas and conceptions as to
the representation of many events and facts record¬
ed in the Gospels. My ideas necessarily differ from
the conceptions of artists who have never seen
the scenery of the Holy Land, have not personally
observed its population and their customs.
*******
Here is my idea, for instance, of the fact of the
adoration of the Magi; a painting contemplated, but
not yet executed.
A clear, starry night; travelers are approaching
Bethlehem — those are the Magi, men versed in
science, having a knowledge of astrology. Proceed¬
ing on their way toward the city, the wise men
Realism.
15
notice a star standing over it—a star which they
never yet had observed. Since, at that time, the
idea was prevalent that every man had his own star;
and, vice versa, every star corresponded to some
man on earth, so the Magi naturally conclude that
this new star indicates the birth of a child some¬
where in the neighborhood, and that—the star being
exceptionally brilliant — the new-born child must
develop into a most prominent' man.
Arriving at Bethlehem, the Magi put up at an inn.
Soon after, the servant, who had been attending to
the travelers' mules, comes in and tells the Magi
that a poor woman had sought refuge in the place
where their animals were kept, and there had given
birth to a most beautiful child. Hearing this, the
Magi exchange significant glances—the coming up
of the star has been rightly interpreted by them.
" Let us go and see ; it must be an extraordinary
child," they say, and thereupon proceed to the
grotto of the inn, where the horses, the cows and
the donkeys were kept, being followed by a few
other travelers, who are likewise curious to see the
new-born child.
In a corner of the grotto they observe a beautiful,
pale young woman, sitting on a pile of straw and
nursing her baby, whilst her husband, an elderly
man, is seen in the distance, outside the grotto, pre¬
paring something for his family.
" What a beautiful child ! " exclaimed the Magi,
and turning to the Virgin, say: "Remember our
i6
Realism.
words, He will be a great man; we have seen His
star."
Then, their pity being stirred by the poverty of
the surroundings, one of the wise men would offer a
gold coin as a gift to the child, while another would,
perhaps, pour out a little of the precious myrrh from
his traveling-flask. As the wise men get ready to
leave the grotto, they turn once more to Mary and
repeat their prediction concerning the great future
of the child, and " Mary kept these things and pon¬
dered them in her heart."
I firmly believe that such a realistic representation
of the poverty and simplicity attending the nativity
of Christ is incomparably loftier than the idealiza¬
tion of richness and other exaggerations to which
old masters had recourse. But such a treatment of
the subject is new ; therefore it appears strange, and
very likely will excite comment. And only in a
century or two our descendants will be able to
decide which of these two opposing views was the
correct one.
*******
Among the paintings on exhibition will be noticed
one portraying a not infrequent event in Palestine
in the olden time—an event highly dramatic yet
retaining all its simplicity. I mean " A crucifixior
under the Romans."
The sky is overcast by heavy black clouds. Just
outside the walls of Jerusalem, on a small rock, are
erected three crosses, all of the same size, shape
Realism.
17
and appearance. The figures of the crucified on the
two sides are of a vulgar type and of coarse build,
while the central figure is of a more refined form.
His face is not seen; it is hid by long auburn
hair that hangs over it; long hair indicates that
the crucified was a man who dedicated himself to
God. The wounds on the hands and feet of the
three crucified men bleed profusely (it being a well-
known fact that physicians find it difficult to stop
the flow of blood out of outstretched palms and
feet). In front of the crosses stand two priests of
high rank, and they seemingly argue about some
matter, as if trying to prove something to a Roman
in military attire : possibly they refer to the guilt of
the man crucified on the middle cross, a guilt about
which the military man seemed to retain some
doubts. Around the rock soldiers are forming a
chain to restrain the crowd.
In the foreground of the painting are seen people
of every description ; some on foot, some on horse¬
back ; others mounted on camels or on donkeys.
Those are country folks or nomads, who, returning
home from market, stopped over on their way for a
moment in order to witness the event of the day—
the execution of a man, the renown of whose deeds
had reached even their huts and tents—a man whose
arrest caused almost an insurrection in the city.
Among others in the crowd can be noticed a few
Hebrew merchants with their characteristic head¬
gear (which was discarded at a comparatively late
2
i8
Realism.
date), and Pharisees with the letters of the Law
written on the coverings of their heads. One of the
Pharisees is discussing something with his neighbor
concerning a woman who is seen weeping bitterly,
in the corner of the picture, presumably the mother
of one of the crucified men. Her face cannot be
seen, but her sorrow must be great indeed, and none
of the women surrounding her seem likely to be able
to console her. Many a time, probably, had she
tried to avert her son from his chosen course, but all
in vain, and now his time has come.
By the side of the heart-broken mother stands a
handsome young woman plunged into deep conster¬
nation at the sight of the executed man ; the tears
run down her cheek, but she is not conscious of it, so
thoroughly absorbed is she by her terrible, unspeak¬
able grief.
As soon as the authorities would retire and the
crowd thin out, there would be a chance for the
mother, and those that surround her, to approach
the crosses ; then they would find it possible to say
their last farewell. . . .
*******
Further on, we have a representation of a contem¬
porary execution, among other people and surround¬
ings. Here we see a cold winter day in the North.
A mass of people is crowding on one of the squares
of St. Petersburg, pressing toward the gallows and
being held back by mounted gendarmes. Close to
the gallows are admitted but the chosen ones,
Realism.
19
mostly the military, all representatives of the gilded
youth of the city, who are in hopes of getting a
piece of the cord used by the hangman : the super¬
stition being very common that a piece of the cord
on which a man was hung is sure to bring luck at
cards to its fortunate possessor.
The criminal, enveloped in a white shroud with
the cap drawn over his head, has just been hung and
is yet whirling round on the cord, while the people
stand in mute bewilderment before the instructive
sight. There is but a single hoarse voice elevated
from among the crowd : " There now—serves them
right, too! " But these words are immediately
hushed by several women's voices crying out,
" What are you saying? It is beyond us to condemn
him now. Let God Almighty pass judgment on
him ! "
Meantime the snow continues to fall, the smoke
is rising from the factories, the work is going on as
usual
vC- -X*
It is worthy of notice that this last painting,
while it did not please Russians, pleased the English
people very much indeed ; on the other side, the
" Blowing from guns in India " is not at all liked by
Englishmen, and yet the Russians fancied it very
much. Men who had seen much service in India
assured me that I was mistaken in presenting such
an execution as a typical, characteristic way of
capital punishment in that country; they insisted
20
Realism.
that this mode of execution had been adopted but
once—in the course of the last insurrection of the
Sepoys—and even at that time it had been used but
in a very few instances. But I maintain that this
mode of execution—a comparatively humane one
too—not only has been in constant use during the
revolt referred to, when the Sepoys were blown
from guns by the thousand, but that it was used by
the British authorities in India for many years
before and after the Sepoy revolt of 1858. More
than that, I am quite positive that that particular
mode of execution will have to be used in future
times. The Hindoo does not fear any other kind of
capital punishment received at the hands of the
" heathenish, unclean Europeans." They hold that
any one shot down or hung by the European goes
to swell the ranks of the martyrs who are entitled
to a high reward in the future life. But an execu¬
tion by means of a gun carries positive terror into
the heart of a native, since such a shot tears the
criminal's body in many parts and thus prevents
him from presenting himself in decent form in
heaven. This bugbear was used by the British,
and will be used by them as long as they fear
to lose their Indian possessions.
In order to hold a population of 250,000,000 in
political and economical submission by means of
60,000 bayonets, it is not enough to be brave and to
be possessed of political tact—punishment and bloody
reprisals cannot be avoided.
*******
Realism.
2 I
All this is so self-evident, that it seems really won¬
derful that, while we artists are required to observe
and discriminate, people are still inclined to be
astonished and indignant whenever we put those
faculties of ours to use and transfer our impressions
to canvas or paper.
The artists are on all hands pressed to give the
public something new, something original, something
that is not hackneyed by fashion and triviality; yet,
when we make an effort to present something of the
sort, we are accused of insolence.
And what are the results of such a state of
things ?
People get tired of books and gorge themselves
on crude facts from real life as recorded in daily
newspapers ; people get tired of picture galleries and
expositions, being certain to find in most of them the
very same kind of pictures—all treating of the very
same subjects, painted in an identical manner; peo¬
ple find it a dull task to go to the theaters where in
nine plays out of ten they will find the very same
conventional plot, invariably terminating in a wed¬
ding.
Well, what is now the part of art generally speak¬
ing?
Why, art is brought down to the level of a toy
for such as can and like to be amused by it; it is
expected, as it were, to stimulate the public's digest¬
ive powers. Paintings, for instance, are considered
simply as furniture: if there happens to remain an
22
Realism.
empty space on the wall between the door and the
corner taken up, let us say, by a What-Not surmount¬
ed by a vase—why then, that empty space is forth¬
with covered by a picture of light contents and of
pleasant execution; such a one as would not de¬
tract too much attention from the other furniture
and bric-a-brac, would not interfere with the dolce
far niente of visitors.
And yet the influence and the resources of art are
enormous. The majority of old-time painters were
handicapped by their allegiance to power and riches ;
they were men who were not weighed down by any
sense of serious civil responsibility, and yet, notwith¬
standing this, how powerful was the influence of art
during whole centuries. It was felt in all the corners
and hidden recesses of the life of the nations!
What then is not to be expected from art in our
time, when artists are inspired with their duties
as citizens of their country—when they cease to
dance attendance on the rich and powerful, who
love to be called patrons of art—when artists
have acquired independence and have begun to
realize that the first condition of a fruitful activity
is to be a gentleman, not in its narrow meaning
of caste, but in the wide acceptance of the term
pertaining to the time we live in.
* * * * * * *
Armed with the confidence of the public, art will
adhere more closely to society, will constitute itself
its ally in the face of the serious danger that threat-
Realism.
23
ens society nowadays—that kind of society which
we all know, which we are all more or less prompted
to love and to respect.
There is no gainsaying the fact that all the other
questions of our time are paling before the question
of socialism that advances on us, threateningly, like a
tremendous thunder cloud.
The masses that have been for centuries leading a
life of expectancy while hanging on the very borders
of starvation, are willing to wait no more. Their
former hopes in the future are discarded; their ap¬
petites are whetted and they are clamoring for ar¬
rears, which means now the division of all the riches,
and so as to make the division more lasting, they are
claiming that talents and capacities should be level¬
ed down to one standard, all workers of progress
and comfort alike drawing the same pay. They are
striving to reconstruct society on new foundations,
and in case of opposition to their aims, they threaten
to apply the torch to all the monuments pertaining
to an order that, according to them, has already
outlived its usefulness; they threaten to blow up
the public buildings, the churches, the art galleries,
libraries and museums—a downright religion of
despair!
*******
II.
My friend, the late General Skobeleff, once asked
me, " How do you understand the movement of the
24
Realism.
socialists and the anarchists." He owned to it that
he, himself, did not understand at all what they
aimed at. " What do they want ? What are they
striving to attain ? "
" First of all," I answered, " those people object
to wars between nations ; again, their appreciation
of art is very limited, the art of painting not ex¬
cluded. Thus, if they ever come into power, you,
with your strategic combinations, and I, with my
pictures, will both be shelved immediately. Do you
understand this ? "
"Yes, I understand this," rejoined Skobeleff, "and
from this on I am determined to fight them."
There is no mistaking the fact that, as I have
said before, society is seriously threatened at the
hands of a large mass of people counting hundreds
of millions. Those are the people, who, for
generations, during entire centuries, have been on
the brink of starvation, poorly clad, living in
filthy and unhealthy quarters; paupers, and such
people as have scarcely any property, or no pro¬
perty at all. Well, who is it that is to blame for
their poverty—are not they themselves to be blamed
for it ?
No, it would be unjust to lay all the blame at
their door; it is more likely that society at large is
more to blame for their condition than they are
themselves.
Is there any way out of the situation ?
Certainly there is. Christ, our Great Teacher,
Realis7n.
25
has long ago pointed out the way in which the rich
and the powerful could remedy the situation without
bringing things to a revolutionary pass, without any
upheaval of the existing social order, if they would
only seriously take care of the miserable ; that cer¬
tainly would have insured them the undisturbed
enjoyment of the bulk of their fortune. But there
is little hope of a peaceful solution of the question
now; it is certain that the well-to-do classes will
still prefer to remain Christians in name only; they
will still hope that palliative measures will be suffi¬
cient to remedy the situation ; or else, believing the
danger to be distant yet, they will not be disposed
to give up much ; while the paupers—though for¬
merly they were ready for a compromise—may be
soon found unwilling to take the pittance offered
them.
What do they want, then ?
Nothing less than the equalization of riches in
the society to come; they claim the material as
well as moral equalization of all rights, trades, all
capacities and talents; as we have already said, they
strive to undermine all the foundations of the exist¬
ing state of society, and, in inaugurating a new
order of things they claim to be able to open a real
era of liberty, equality and fraternity, instead of the
shadows of those lofty things, as existing now.
* * * * * * -X-
I do not mean to go into the discussion of the
matter; I would not pretend to point out how much
26
Realism.
justice or injustice, how much soundness or unsound¬
ness there is in these claims; I state only the fact
that there is a deep gulf between the former cries
for bread and the sharply formulated claims of the
present. It is evident that the appetite of the
masses has grown within the past centuries, and the
bill which they intend to present for payment will
not be a small one.
Who will be required to pay this bill ?
Society, most certainly.
Will it be done willingly ?
Evidently not.
Consequently there will be complications, quarrels,
civil wars.
Certainly there will be serious complications; they
are already casting their shadows before them in the
shape of disturbances of a socialistic character that
are originating here and there. In America, most
likely, those disturbances are lesser and less pointed,
but in Europe, in France and Belgium, for instance,
such disorders assume a very threatening aspect.
Who is likely to be victorious in this struggle?
Unless Napoleon I. was wrong in his assertion
that victory will always remain with the gros batail-
lons, the " regulators" will win. Their numbers
will be very great; whoever knows human nature
will understand that all such as have not much to
lose will, at the decisive moment, join the claims of
those who have nothing to lose.
********
Realism.
27
It is generally supposed that the danger is not so
imminent yet; but, as far as I was able to judge,
the impendence of the danger varies in different
countries. France, for instance—that long-suffering
country which is forever experimenting on herself,
whether it be in social or scientific questions, or in
politics—is the nearest to a crisis; then follow
Belgium and other countries.
It is very possible that even the present genera¬
tion will witness something serious in that respect.
As to .the coming generations, there is no doubt
that they will assist at a thorough reconstruction
of the social structure in all countries.
The claims of socialists, and, particularly, the
anarchists, as well as the disorders incited by them
generally produce a great sensation in society. But
no sooner are the disorders suppressed, than society
relapses again into its usual unconcern, and no one
gives a thought to the fact that the frequency of
those painful symptoms, recurring with so much
persistency, is in itself a sign of disease.
Far-seeing people begin to realize that palliative
measures are of no more use ; that a change of
governments and of rulers will not avail any more ;
and that nothing is left but to await developments
contingent on the attitude of the opposed parties—
the energetic determination of the well-to-do classes,
not to yield, and that of the proletaires, to keep
their courage and persevere.
*******
28
Realism.
The only consolation remaining to the rich con¬
sists in the fact that the " regulators " have not had
time yet to organize their forces for a successful
struggle with society. This is true to a certain ex¬
tent. But, though they do it slowly, the " regula¬
tors" are perfecting their organization all the time :
yet, on the other hand, can we say that society is well
enough organized not to stand in dread of attacks ?
Who are the recognized and official defenders of
society ?
The Army and the Church.
A soldier, there is no doubt of it, is a good sup¬
port, he represents a solid defense ; the only trouble
about him is that the soldier himself begins to get
weary of his ungrateful part. It is likely that for
many years to come yet the soldier will shoot with
a light heart at such as are called his " enemies " ;
but the time is not far distant when he will refuse to
shoot at his own people.
Who is a good soldier? Only one to whom you
can point out his father, his mother, or his brother
in the crowd, saying, " those are enemies of society,
kill them "—and who will obey.
I may remark here, in passing, that it occurred to
me to refer to this idea in a conversation I had with
the well-known French writer and thinker, Alexander
Dumas, fils, and with what success? Conceding the
justice of the apprehension, he had no other com¬
forting suggestion to offer than to say : " Oh, yes,
the soldier will shoot yet! "
Realism.
29
The other defender of society, the priest, has been
less ill-used than the soldier, and consequently he is
not so tired of his task: but, on the other hand,
people begin to tire of him, less heed is paid to his
words, and there arises a doubt as to the truth of all
that he preaches.
There was a time when it was possible to tell
the people that there is but one sun in the heavens
as there is but one God-appointed king in the coun¬
try. As stars of the first, second, third and fourth
magnitude are grouping themselves around the sun,
so the powerful, the rich, the poor, and the miserable,
surround the king on earth. And, as all that ap¬
peared plausible, people used to believe that such
arrangements are as they ought to be. All was ac¬
cepted, all went on smoothly: none of such things
can be advanced nowadays, however; no one will be
ready to believe in them.
* * * * * * *
Clearly, things assume a serious aspect : Suppose
the day comes when the priests will entirely lose
their hold on the people, when the soldiers will turn
their guns muzzles down—where will society look
for bulwarks then ? Is it possible that it has no
more reliable defense ?
Certainly, it has such a defense, and it is nothing
else but talents, and their representatives, in science,
literature, and art in all its ramifications.
Art must and will defend society. Its influence
is less apparent and palpable, but it is very great; it
30
Realism.
might even be said that its influence over the minds,
the hearts, and the actions of people, is enormous,
unsurpassed, unrivaled. Art must and will defend
society with all the more care and earnestness, because
its devotees know that the " regulators " are not dis¬
posed to give them the honorable, respectable posi¬
tion they occupy now—since, according to them, a
good pair of boots is more useful than a good picture,
a novel, or a statue. Those people declare that talent
is luxury ; that talent is aristocratic, and that, con¬
sequently, talent has to be brought down from its
pedestal to the common level—a principle to which
we shall never submit.
Let us not deceive ourselves : there will arise new
talents, which will gradually adapt themselves to
new conditions, if such will prevail, and their works
may perhaps gain from it, but we shall not agree
to the principle of general demolition and recon¬
struction, when such have no other foundation but
the well known thesis : " Let us destroy every¬
thing and clear the ground ; as to the reconstruc¬
tion—about that we shall see later on." We shall
defend and advocate the improvement of the exist¬
ing things by means of peaceful and gradual
measures.
****** *
It goes without the saying that we demand that
society, on its side, should help us to fulfill our task ;
that it should trust us, give us all the freedom neces¬
sary for the development and exertion of talents.
Realism.
3i
There is the rub !
Well-fed, self-satisfied society quails at every
change, at every blame, derision and comment; it
distrusts the foremost, daring representatives of
science, literature and art. Society strives jealously
to retain the right not only to point out the road for
talent, but even to regulate the measure, the degree
of its development and its manifestation.
In this society of ours anything that is common
and conventional is shielded by all kinds of rights
and privileges, while anything that is new and orig¬
inal is bound to awaken animosity and censure,
has to go through a severe struggle under the press¬
ure of wide-spread cant and hypocrisy.
Try to create anything ingenious in any of the
regions of science and literature, try to present in
graphic or plastic form the most original, striking
conception, but only forget or refuse to surround it
with the conventional layer of triviality and vulgar¬
ity so dear to the heart of society, you will be done
for, you will not even obtain a hearing, you will be
called a charlatan, if nothing worse than that.
Why is that so ? Was it society that has shown
the way to all great discoveries ? No, it has always
detained them, has always put breaks on them.
Has society, in its collective form, ever evoked
any of the great manifestations of art or literature ?
No ; society was always eager to worry, to persecute
men of talent, though it was erecting monuments to
them after their death.
32
Realism.
How did society come to display such arrogance
and presumption ? It was tempted that way only
by the unchristian conviction that "the aim justifies
the means."
* * * * * *
Can there be anything more exasperating than
the conversations we hear sometimes :
" Have you been at the ' Salon ?' "
" No, we did not happen to go there this year, but
last year we were there more than once."
There is irony here as well as truth, since, in the
majority of cases, you will find in the " Salon " the
same number of pictures nearly of the same quality,
treating on nearly the same subjects, and, most
assuredly, painted nearly in the same style.
" Have you seen the new play of Sardou ? "
" Just imagine, could not possibly get to see it yet,
had to go to the country; but then to-morrow we
go to the Comedie Fran^aise to see that new thing of
Dumas. They say both plays are very much alike
in their conception, as well as in their plot." And
this is perfectly true; they are doubtlessly more or
less alike.
Whose fault is this then, if not the authors' ?
No. Ask the playwrights whether they would
dare to represent the action in such a way as it has
been suggested to them by real life, with its logical
conclusion, made unavoidable by the march of
events, omitting, for once, the long established,
hackneyed, conventional termination ?
Realism.
33
" No," the authors would tell you, "such a thing
is not to be thought of," and they will be in the
right. Society, weighed down by cant, will not go
to see such a play, however interesting it may be;
so the author has to humor the public if he does
not want to bring ruin on his manager and on him¬
self.
The same is the case with artists, sculptors,
even composers. What a great number of favorites
of the Muses have been driven into early graves by
the animosity of the public to all new construction
of poetical as well as musical ideas !
On one side we hear complaints of the dullness,
the monotony, even the triviality prevailing in art ;
people clamor for something inspired, something
original ; on the other side, the same public arbi¬
trarily chastises you for all that fails to come within
the range of the established, conventional ideas!
It is high time, it seems to me, to understand
the necessity of treating art with tolerance and con¬
fidence, if we want it to fraternize with society, to
become as one with it, to serve it faithfully and
well in the present troubled times when the poet
and the artist are soldiers on their posts.
•;<- -x- -x- -X- * -X- *
" But look here you, representative of art," I
might be asked, "what are the tidings that you are
so eager to announce to us—what are your dis¬
coveries that would be so entirely new to society ?"
Well, what we should say would, perhaps, not be
3
34
Realism.
news, yet certainly the idea of it has not yet pene¬
trated the consciousness of the people. Armed
with the rich, varied resources of art we will tell peo¬
ple some truths.
" Give up," we shall say to them, " give up enjoy¬
ing yourselves amidst the illusions of the idealism
which lulls your senses, of the idealism of high-
sounding words and phrases. Look around you
through the eye of sensible realism, and you will
acquire the certitude of your mistake. You are not
the Christians you assume yourselves to be. You
are not representatives of Christian societies, of
Christian countries."
Those that kill their kind by the hundred thousand
are no Christians.
Those that are always moved, in private as well
as in public life, by the principle of " eye for eye,
and tooth for tooth," are no Christians.
Those that spend many hours of their lives in
churches, yet who give nothing, or next to nothing,
to the poor, are no Christians.
What have you done with the decree of the
Saviour concerning Christian humility and to help
such as are in real need ?
What is the stand taken now, let us ask, by those
two great branches of the administration of Christ's
Church, that call themselves the Roman Catholic
and the Orthodox churches, which have once sepa¬
rated, thanks to their inability to agree as to
whether the Holy Ghost proceeded from the Father
Realism.
35
and the Son or from the Father alone? Is it pos¬
sible that they have not come yet to an understand¬
ing, and, blinded by mutual hatred, are neglecting
the loftiness of their mission on earth?
What is the stand taken by those new churches
originated of late, comparatively speaking, on the
plea of a more realistic understanding of the con¬
nection of life with its Originator ? Is it possible
that, having concluded the fight with their great
adversary, those churches have also drifted into a
sweet nap over the existing order of things, and
have also renounced taking a hand in any further
reforms?
Well, if it be so, let men of talent shake the
strong and the powerful out of the somnolence into
which they have fallen ; a difficult task it will be,
but a noble one. And if, we are refused a hearing,
or attempts are made to muzzle us, why, the worse
it will be for society. Rouse itself it shall; but it
will be too late—the "Vandals will have burned
Rome " once again. We may be assured that no
churches, no bankers' offices will then be spared.
" If any man have ears to hear, let him hear."
YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
3 9002 11163 0779
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Revised Edition, with much new matter added.
VERESTCHAGIN,
Painter, Soldier, Traveler,
BY
VASSILI VERESTCHAGIN.
TRANSLATED BY
F. H. PETERS, M.A.
Illustrated with many original sketches by the Author.
PRICE, ONE DOLLAR.
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