Yuri Avvakumov
24 Jul - 10 Sep 2007
YURI AVVAKUMOV
"BornHouse"
For the Second Moscow Biennale of Contemporary Art last spring, Yuri Avvakumov curated an exhibition called He asked the artists to give birth to new forms - but their creations were to be no larger than a newborn baby. The objects they made ranged from a sculpture fashioned from egg packaging to an amusing baby mold.
An artist and architect as well as a curator, Avvakumov has made a career and a mission of the Russian Utopian tradition. He is obsessed with the Russian avant-garde of the 1920s, seemingly channeling his inspiration from such figures as Ivan Leonidov, a Constructivist architect and artist whose only realized design was a famously beautiful staircase built in 1938 in Kislovodsk. "Working in their tradition is like the rhythm of my heartbeat," Avvakumov says. "This is not an intellectual effort."
We are talking in his studio on Leningradsky Prospekt, near the center of Moscow. It was burgled recently, and two safes were cracked open, but the burglars ignored his artworks and those of his wife, the well-known painter Alyona Kirtsova, whose abstract landscapes were a sensation last year at the Stella Art. "It's good for us the thieves were not deep appreciators of art," Avvakumov says.
Avvakumov, who was born in Tiraspol, Moldova, in 1957, is the leader of Russia's Paper Architects, a loose movement of architects who came of age in the '80s, a time when there was no possibility of their building anything. Yet their visionary designs received prizes and attracted attention in international competitions.
When he graduated from the Moscow Institute of Architecture in 1981, no one was working in
the Russian Constructivist tradition, which had been repressed by Soviet authorities in the '30s. "Let's say it was not welcome," Avvakumov remembers. The fact that he was constantly entering international competitions was also at first frowned upon. Occasionally a censor would ask him about his works on paper. In one case, he was asked if he was being critical of Russian urban design. "I said I was criticizing America," Avvakumov recalls - and the piece was released.
"I would like to see Yuri build at least one structure, like Leonidov," says David Sarkisyan, director of the Shchusev Museum of Architecture in Moscow. "As an architect, he is a visionary."
Avvakumov works out ideas on paper and then constructs models of them. In his world, designing real structures in real space is considered overrated, but while he still seems uncomfortable with the idea of actually building anything, he is moving in that direction. He has started mounting shows in huge yacht hangars in the posh suburbs, in which he fashions immense sets that resemble the cubicles in the Tati film Playtime. For the first such show, of paintings by contemporary artists, he built seven minimalist pavilions made of wood cargo-storage racks. For many viewers, his environment was as interesting as the paintings themselves. "I had in mind a town center," he says, "complete with a tower they could climb for a better view." With such projects, he is garnering a reputation as one of the best curators in town. Art and architecture critics say there is no better environmental designer in Russia.
One of Avvakumov's first projects, in 1983, was a series called "Russian House or Self-Erecting House of Cards." With these card works, pop-ups held together with tape and glue, he became known as the "ironic Constructivist." His more recent "Temporary Monuments," which have been exhibited all over Europe, show the same kind of whimsy, cut with post-Soviet irony. The Victoria and Albert Museum recently purchased some of these loving, if teetering, tributes to 20th-century architectural fantasies.
Avvakumov is also a collector of Russian dreams. His Russian Utopia project (www.utopia.ru) is an online museum as well as a depository of 480 Utopian works on paper from the past 300 years. Together they create a collective vision of what might have been—or could be.
He was recently asked to design an exhibition pavilion in the Saadiyat Island cultural district to be built in Abu Dhabi, where Frank Gehry is creating the biggest Guggenheim museum yet. Avvakumov's smaller structure, scheduled to be completed by 2010, resembles a palm leaf, with five satellite galleries radiating outward from the entrance. It was inspired by a building designed by the famous Constructivist Konstantin Melnikov. Avvakumov says he has not yet signed a contract, but if the pavilion is built, it will signify that he has taken a vacation from Utopia to enter the real world.
"BornHouse"
For the Second Moscow Biennale of Contemporary Art last spring, Yuri Avvakumov curated an exhibition called He asked the artists to give birth to new forms - but their creations were to be no larger than a newborn baby. The objects they made ranged from a sculpture fashioned from egg packaging to an amusing baby mold.
An artist and architect as well as a curator, Avvakumov has made a career and a mission of the Russian Utopian tradition. He is obsessed with the Russian avant-garde of the 1920s, seemingly channeling his inspiration from such figures as Ivan Leonidov, a Constructivist architect and artist whose only realized design was a famously beautiful staircase built in 1938 in Kislovodsk. "Working in their tradition is like the rhythm of my heartbeat," Avvakumov says. "This is not an intellectual effort."
We are talking in his studio on Leningradsky Prospekt, near the center of Moscow. It was burgled recently, and two safes were cracked open, but the burglars ignored his artworks and those of his wife, the well-known painter Alyona Kirtsova, whose abstract landscapes were a sensation last year at the Stella Art. "It's good for us the thieves were not deep appreciators of art," Avvakumov says.
Avvakumov, who was born in Tiraspol, Moldova, in 1957, is the leader of Russia's Paper Architects, a loose movement of architects who came of age in the '80s, a time when there was no possibility of their building anything. Yet their visionary designs received prizes and attracted attention in international competitions.
When he graduated from the Moscow Institute of Architecture in 1981, no one was working in
the Russian Constructivist tradition, which had been repressed by Soviet authorities in the '30s. "Let's say it was not welcome," Avvakumov remembers. The fact that he was constantly entering international competitions was also at first frowned upon. Occasionally a censor would ask him about his works on paper. In one case, he was asked if he was being critical of Russian urban design. "I said I was criticizing America," Avvakumov recalls - and the piece was released.
"I would like to see Yuri build at least one structure, like Leonidov," says David Sarkisyan, director of the Shchusev Museum of Architecture in Moscow. "As an architect, he is a visionary."
Avvakumov works out ideas on paper and then constructs models of them. In his world, designing real structures in real space is considered overrated, but while he still seems uncomfortable with the idea of actually building anything, he is moving in that direction. He has started mounting shows in huge yacht hangars in the posh suburbs, in which he fashions immense sets that resemble the cubicles in the Tati film Playtime. For the first such show, of paintings by contemporary artists, he built seven minimalist pavilions made of wood cargo-storage racks. For many viewers, his environment was as interesting as the paintings themselves. "I had in mind a town center," he says, "complete with a tower they could climb for a better view." With such projects, he is garnering a reputation as one of the best curators in town. Art and architecture critics say there is no better environmental designer in Russia.
One of Avvakumov's first projects, in 1983, was a series called "Russian House or Self-Erecting House of Cards." With these card works, pop-ups held together with tape and glue, he became known as the "ironic Constructivist." His more recent "Temporary Monuments," which have been exhibited all over Europe, show the same kind of whimsy, cut with post-Soviet irony. The Victoria and Albert Museum recently purchased some of these loving, if teetering, tributes to 20th-century architectural fantasies.
Avvakumov is also a collector of Russian dreams. His Russian Utopia project (www.utopia.ru) is an online museum as well as a depository of 480 Utopian works on paper from the past 300 years. Together they create a collective vision of what might have been—or could be.
He was recently asked to design an exhibition pavilion in the Saadiyat Island cultural district to be built in Abu Dhabi, where Frank Gehry is creating the biggest Guggenheim museum yet. Avvakumov's smaller structure, scheduled to be completed by 2010, resembles a palm leaf, with five satellite galleries radiating outward from the entrance. It was inspired by a building designed by the famous Constructivist Konstantin Melnikov. Avvakumov says he has not yet signed a contract, but if the pavilion is built, it will signify that he has taken a vacation from Utopia to enter the real world.