USA-CCCP. Points of Contact.
Catherine Mannick – (E-E) Evgenij Kozlov
Correspondence 1979 – 1990

Letter N (Autumn 1987) – Part 1: Changes and Challenges

In the cultural world of Leningrad, the political changes in the USSR generally known as “glasnost” and “perestroika” showed their first effects as early as 1986, and in 1987, they could no longer be overlooked. They were particularly important for “unofficial” artists like (E-E) Evgenij Kozlov, since “unofficials” were subject to legal restrictions to a greater extent than those recognised by the state. Pursuing a new policy, the state loosened the tight grip on them and conceded them more autonomy.

A striking example is the “Law on amateur associations and interest clubs” from 13 May 1986, which allowed groups of individuals to register their joint activities with a local institution. This led to the emergence of a number of new “clubs”, among them the “Club of Friends of Mayakovsky”, initiated by the New Artists more>>, and the NCh-VCH (НЧ-ВЧ, an acronym for Nizkie Chastoty / Vysokie Chastoty, Low Frequency / High Frequency), a cultural club providing artist studios and a clubroom for exhibitions and concerts more>>.

But this was not the only reason why those creating the so-called counter-culture benefited from perestroika. Paradoxically, they also enjoyed a larger number of international contacts than many of their “official” colleagues – at least in Moscow and Leningrad, both cultural centres with an important number of foreign students and diplomatic missions. This started to pay off in the second half of the 1980s, when international cultural relations were taking an upswing. If the Soviet side was ready to invite western pop bands – like UB40 in 1986, see Letter L >> – and increased the screening of western movies, western institutions and private organisations were looking for fresh impulses coming from people outside the system. Leningrad’s underground artists and musicians finally saw a chance to show their works or perform abroad, thus asserting themselves in the capitalist market. This, however, demanded skills few Soviet artists had mastered by intuition. In Letter N, Kozlov reflects these changes on a personal level.

The first page or pages are missing, and therefore, the date is also missing, but it is possible to infer an approximate date. The artist mentions Chagall’s first personal exhibition after his emigration, which opened at the Pushkin Museum on 2 September 1987 – a significant event for Kozlov, as Chagall had always been one of his favourite artists.  Mannick’s answer to Letter N comes with her New Year’s greetings (Letter 41). Therefore, Letter N must have been written some time in autumn 1987. Possibly, Kozlov’s birthday greetings, written on a picture showing him with a recent painting entitled “Китай – СССР” / China – USSR, were also part of Letter N.

By that time, important changes had also occurred in Catherine Mannick’s life, and they were related to Russia. In September 1987, she had started her graduate programme in Russian history at Harvard University, to which she had been admitted a year earlier. She had previously written her friend that she continued working at a law office to finance her studies and therefore couldn’t make it to the Soviet Union for the time being (Letter 40, August 1987). Kozlov, although regretting that they both wouldn't meet very soon, again welcomed her decision, adding an enthusiastic note to it:

I am glad that you have finally decided and started to seriously study Russian history and literature. Now you will be able to understand me better and especially our life. If you are thinking about the future, then think about Russia! (p.2, outside, left) 

“SAVE THE WORLD”

Letter N is one of Kozlov’s longer letters, perhaps because it was also the first letter sent in 1987; at least that’s what Mannick’s letter from August 1987 suggests.[1] It includes many of Kozlov’s vintage prints, both painted and not painted. Together, pictures and text provide a vivid impression of a significant moment in time.

Two painted prints are placed on the front cover pages of coloured double cards numbered 2 and 3, respectively, each offering another three blank pages for text. The pictures present, apart from Kozlov himself, New Composer Igor Verichev and Georgy Guryanov, drummer of the band KINO.[2] Kozlov took the pictures during a farewell meeting with their French friend Paquita Escofet Miro, who participated in the photo shoot.[3] In the Davis Center Collection, there is a third painted picture from the same series which might have belonged to the missing page 1, and some more are in Kozlov's album “Это модно • It's the fashion! 1984-1990” more>>.

When painting his photos, Kozlov often combined opaque colours, such as marker or spray, with transparent ink (see Letter L >>). This is the case with the third picture, where spray paint fills the lower left corner. Following his statement “when I’m looking at black and white images, I see colours”, he applied ochre ink to arms and faces, except for white contours adapted from unpainted parts of the photograph, which gives these shapes a three-dimensional appearance. In the other two prints, he used translucent ink only, leaving the original motifs fully recognisable. The translucent effect of ink is particularly appealing where pink and turquoise ribbons and circles intersect each other, creating luminous shades of blue and violet. These ornamental features add rhythm and strangeness. (See also description of ink and alcohol-based ink in "The River of Forgetfulness", 1988.)

Six more – unpainted – vintage prints in a 10 x 14 cm format, numbered 4 to 9, are views of Timur Novikov’s art squat and gallery “ASSA”. Kozlov wrote his sentences directly on the reverse of these pictures.

1987 had been very a beneficial period for Kozlov’s art, possibly because towards the end of 1986, he finally quit his “official” job (see Letter K >>). In the small space of his studio, he was now creating  large works, up to a 6x2m format more>>.

I really began to work a lot and you know why? Oddly enough, this is due to the fact that I have nothing but art (not even you next to me), this position obligates me to do more and more new things. And if I don't paint for a day or two or three, then I start to feel broken and sick. This is what interests me especially now! (p. 2, left and right)

He writes that he continues working on the CCCP-USA subject,[4]  and, also having included China and France, feels inclined to “process” (переработать) all major powers.

The “French” painting could not be identified, unlike the “Chinese” one – it is the one displayed in his birthday greetings.  “CHINA–USSR” depicts both countries as guitar players, and it is the counterpart to PCCC-ASU (USA-CCCP mirrored) from the same year, with an accordion player sitting inside a fenced area, perhaps a cage see Letter N Part 2 >>. These two paintings could be called personifications of large-territory states, similar to personifications of continents from the baroque period, only that their iconography is quite unusual and their attributes, especially the musicians’ shortened legs, remain a matter of interpretation.

In a somewhat unexpected turn, Kozlov comes to a conclusion

“SAVE THE WORLD” [СПАСЕМ МИР] is the most fashionable expression of this time and I would also add “SAVE EACH OTHER” [СПАСЕМ ДРУГ ДРУГА]. (p. 2, left)

In 1986, the slogan “Спасем мир” / Save the World became indeed very fashionable among Leningrad artists and musicians due to T-shirts with “СПАСЕМ МИР” printed in bold Cyrillic letters on the front and “SAVE THE WORLD” on the back. Igor Verichev is wearing one of these T-shirts in Kozlov’s coloured pictures. This might have stimulated Kozlov to promote the slogan in his letter. Or perhaps it was the other way round – Kozlov, being interested in world affairs, selected the pictures because of the slogan.

The shirts were a gift by Joanna Stingray, a dedicated supporter of the Leningrad underground rock and art scene since 1984, when she first traveled to Leningrad.[5] The young American rock singer never tired of bringing her friends all kinds of entertaining and useful presents, such as “a synthesizer for Sergey Kuryokhin, a strat for Yuri that shone like the winter sun, and a four track mixer.”[6] Among her gifts were art supplies – acrylic paint, canvases,[7] but also special liquids which Kozlov used to create frottage monoprints more >>.

Stingray printed the T-shirt to promote the release of the double LP “Red Wave”, an album she had produced in the United Stated in 1986 with tapes she had smuggled out from the Soviet Union; a copy of the Red Wave album is in the Davis Center Special Collection.

“Red Wave” featured the music of four Leningrad Rock bands – Alisa, Aquarium, KINO, and Strange Games. In her memoirs, Stingray remembers the production of “Red Wave”: “One of the most important details, though, was the ad on the inside sleeve for shirts that said ‘Save the World’ in Russian and English. They came with a free button that said “Peace” in both languages, something to signify the magnitude and urgency of the album”.[8]

According to Stingray, the T-shirt was first worn on stage by KINO members at the Palace of Youth “a week after the infamous Gorbachev/Reagan Peace Summit in Reykjavík”, that is, on 19 October 1986 more >>.”[9] The concert was recorded live and released on vinyl in 2022 as KINO/КИНО — «Спасём Мир» External link >>. In her book, Stingray, who performed with the band, quotes bandleader Viktor Tsoy addressing the audience: “We wanted to offset the non-agreement that took place in Reykjavík, Iceland, to demonstrate the fact that we do want peace and friendship with the United States more >>.”[10] A day later, on 20 October 1986, there was also a Pop Mekhanika concert at the Youth Palace, where Stingray again wore the shirt, as can be seen in Kozlov’s archival pictures.

The idea of “saving the world”, based on mutual understanding, was enthusiastically adapted by Stingray’s Leningrad friends, all the more so because the immense media echo in the western press to the release of “New Wave” forced the Soviet authorities to finally acknowledge the existence of an independent underground rock scene in their own country. In 1987, Aquarium received the first contract with the monopolist label Melodiya, and the other bands soon followed suit.[11]

Movies and Concerts

By 1987, “the world” was increasingly using official channels to present itself to the Soviet audience with films, concerts and exhibitions. 

Kozlov writes that he watched a number of movies coming to Leningrad from the Moscow Film Festival. Whether due to a preselection in Moscow or to the availability of tickets, his list of movies is quite eclectic, and in fact, none was part of the main festival competition: “Ragtime” (drama film, USA, 1981), “All that Jazz” (musical drama film, USA, 1979), “Crocodile Dundee” (action comedy, Australia, 1986), “A Tooth for a Tooth” (thriller, Germany, 1985[12]), and “The Fugitives” (Les Fugitifs, comedy, France, 1986). Western films were also screened at the local movie theatre of Peterhof (Petrodvorets), where the artist was living:

Yesterday night I went to our Peterhof cinema to watch the American film “One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest”. Have you seen this movie? It takes place in a mental hospital[13] – there are no such films on the Soviet screen. The hall was full, and together with all the other spectators, I spent three interesting hours of my free time. Later I watched another film by this [director] Milos Forman – Amadeus, about Mozart and Salieri. (page 3, outside, left page, and p.4)

American/Soviet cultural exchanges were initiated November 1985, during the first encounter of president Ronald Reagan and General Secretary Mikhail Gorbachov,[14] and Kozlov was hoping that this development would consolidate further. The meeting also set the framework for concerts tours of American musicians. But compared to screening films, organising concert tours was much more complicated because of significant expenses for logistics and live performances. Part of these expenses was incurred in hard currency, and since the ruble was not convertible, such tours had to be subsidised by one side or the other. This obviously limited the chances for the Soviet Goskontsert agency to welcome big stars, but in 1987, Soviet music lovers had a chance familiarise themselves with the music of avant-garde jazz musician Pat Metheny and singer and songwriter Billy Joel – both successful in the States, but less well-known in Russia.[15]

To sell the tickets, the concerts were promoted on radio and TV. Kozlov did not attend the concerts but mentioned both in his letter, giving a detailed report on Billy Joel’s appearance in the highly popular TV-programme “Музыкальный ринг” / Musical Ring, a term created in analogy to “boxing ring”. Broadcast by Leningrad’s “Fifth Channel”, “Musical Ring”, was quite progressive with regard to the Soviet Underground scene. In 1986, it featured Boris Grebenshikov and his band Aquarium External link >>, while Sergey Kuryokhin and Pop Mekhanika were guests in 1987 External link >>. Kozlov explains the concept of the show:

There is a small platform for musicians in the centre of the hall, around which the audience is sitting, as in a boxing match, it’s almost a sport. And after each song, the audience begins to "beat" the musicians with their questions. (P. 3, inside, right page)

But it was not at all Joel’s music that attracted Kozlov’s attention. Rather, he was fascinated by the ease with which the American singer talked about the financial aspect of his performance:

Usually musicians, Soviet musicians, try to play more music in order to get fewer punches / questions from listeners, because the questions may be rather sharp, but Joel did the opposite. At the very beginning, he said that he prefers to talk more than sing and that songs are money – and this was a strong blow to the listeners; we are not used to be treated in such a way. He had a great musical fight, but the funniest thing for me was when in the midst of audience questions, when everyone had got the hang of it and wanted to talk to him more and more, he suddenly stood up and said that his doctor and his manager advised him to go rest and stop this performance. No one expected this here – this cunning blow from his side was O.K., I even screamed: "Hurrah!“. And we were knocked down, especially the host of the TV show, especially since for some reason this program is hosted by a woman. And then all the spectators clapped, smiling shyly at their loss. America has won this musical battle. (P. 3, inside, right page, and p.3, outside, left page)

Art market and royalties

Getting in touch with the capitalist world inevitably meant fixing a monetary equivalent for one’s own art. For Kozlov, it started as a theoretical consideration. 

[It would be] also interesting to know how much Soviet art usually costs in America? And is anyone really seriously interested in it, or is it just a fashion? I have a problem now – should I sell my paintings or keep everything. Because if circumstances are good and I can find some people who are interested, there could be an exhibition in, say, America or Europe. (page 2, inside, left page)

However, the financial aspect of art had yet another practical side – that of attaching value to the work of those who had jointly contributed to a production. Kozlov discussed it on the occasion of the release of the LP Popular Mechanics – Insect Culture by ARK Records, Liverpool, with had his photo on the cover. It is the main topic of Kozlov’s text on the reverse of his six “ASSA” Gallery vintage prints. Kozlov’s photo shoot for the LP with Sergey Kuryokhin and New Composers Igor Verichev and Valery Alakhov had taken place in 1985 more >>, and he had written about it in Letter H from October 1985 more >>. In the present letter, Kozlov complains that the text on the back cover of “Insect Culture” disregards the essential contribution of Alakhov and Verichev. Instead, the description focuses on Sergey Kuryokhin, although “all texts and clear melodies, with the exception of noises and saxophone are the work of Igor and Valery” (page 7).

In essence, Kozlov values Kuryohkin’s organisational talents and talents as a showman more than what he calls “Kuryokhin’s noises”.  “Kuryokhin is first of all an organiser, in this respect his creativity is making great strides here!” (page 7). This is where he sees Kuryokhin’s unique role in the Leningrad music scene. From here it follows that

… in general, all the work, the entire arrangement of the record was done by Kuryokhin. Why? As I wrote to you before, he is an organiser and has connections with some western recording studios. The “New Composers” gave him their draft work and he did, according to his taste, what you can hear.[16] (Page 8)

What worries Kozlov even more is the fact that his own contribution to the LP was not duly rewarded. The artist himself had not been not involved in the process of selecting the picture for the cover, about which he had written in Letter H: “I suggested ten painted photos for the cover, what will not be used for the cover will be printed in one of the music or art magazines.”more >> In fact, apart from his – unpainted – picture used for the cover, another, painted one was printed in the July edition of the British magazine Blitz, next to Jonh [sic] Wilde’s review of “Insect Culture”, but without mentioning Kozlov’s name (но без указания авторства, page 6). It is impossible to tell whether this was done intentionally or unintentionally – Kozlov normally signs his works – but it wasn’t to be the last time one of his works was printed without a proper attribution to its author. Concerning royalties, Kozlov is searching for legal advice from his friend:

Now what I would like to know from you regarding the legal side of my work. If I didn't sign a contract with ARK studio before the release of the record and with BLITZ magazine, then I don't get a fee for my work? Or is it still possible to fix it? And if it’s possible, how? (page 9)

It is not known whether Colin Fallows of ARK Records or the editors of Blitz were aware of the fact that Kozlov expected them to pay him a licence fee. Neither knew Kozlov personally, and they had to rely on whatever information they received from intermediaries. What is more, in those years, it was considered a matter of prestige, not of money, for a Soviet underground artist to have their work printed in the West.

Besides, western companies promoting Soviet artists or musicians were often run as low budget projects, with their owners making only a small profit, if any. But even if they had been willing to pay some money, it wouldn’t have been easy to make sure that an author actually received the royalties, considering that there was no possibility of a bank transfer and that personal encounters were rare.

Lost art

On page 4, Kozlov returns once more to the question of exhibiting his works

Yes, I forgot to tell you, soon we will have another exhibition in Sweden, Stockholm, and negotiations are underway with France and England. But, frankly speaking, I am more interested in the field of exhibition activities in the USA – in some ways, this country appeals to me more, perhaps, with its scope and excitement of life. (pp. 4/5)

The Swedish exhibition provides a striking example of how for Kozlov, “getting international” also meant losing control of his works. The exhibition was initiated in 1986 by Fredrik Vogel, a Danish curator and friend of several New Artists. He convinced Stockholm’s cultural department to pursue his project and to convert it into a festival of Leningrad’s non-official culture more >>. After overcoming multiple obstacles created by the Soviet bureaucracy, “De Nya från Leningrad / The New from Leningrad” finally opened at Stockholm’s cultural centre Kulturhuset in August 1988 with a Pop-Mekhanika performance, film screenings, and lectures more >>. The exhibition then travelled to Denmark and ended in Liverpool with another festival, “Perestroika in the Avant-Garde” more >>.

De Nya från Leningrad / "The New from Leningrad", Kulturhuset, Stockholm, 27 August to 25 September, 1988 more >> General exhibition view In the centre, mounted on a stand, "Хочу Е Я (и ЯЯ)” / I want her (and I I) by (E-E) Evgenij Kozlov. On the right paintings by Evgenij Yufit. Kozlov's painting did not continue the exhibition tour. It is on the list of works shown at another Stockholm exhibition later the same year consisting mainly of "New Artists" works: “Ryska Konstnärer från Leningrad” / Russian Artists from Leningrad, at Pierre Munkeborg Antik & Inredningar, Stockholm, December 1988 more >>. After the December 1988 exhibition, its traces have vanished. Photo: Courtesy Fredrik Vogel

The exhibition tour was the first major presentation of Leningrad’s nonofficial culture in the West, and Kozlov’s paintings were featured on catalogue covers and posters (See Letter N Part 2 >>). However, of Kozlov’s eleven paintings that were sent to Sweden in August 1988, only four could be recovered in England after the end of the tour – in London, stored by the South London Gallery as a courtesy to the Liverpool Bluecoat Gallery. Kozlov later displayed them in his Berlin studio “The Russian Field No 2”.

In 2021, three of these paintings travelled back from Berlin to London, where they have now found a permanent home in the collection of Tate Gallery External link >>. Kozlov was able to retrieve two more paintings from different places; he later discovered that the other five had been sold – two in New York, and three (most likely) in Stockholm more >>.

Next page: Letter N (1987) Part 2: ASSA >>