Before the great Russian poet Vladimir Mayakovsky ever began writing verse, he was a painter, a fact visible in the striking visual quality of his poems on the page. After the 1917 Revolution, Mayakovsky turned his energy to projects that engaged both his poetic and painterly talents, by working feverishly on ROSTA posters to convey news and enliven Petrograd’s empty shop windows. In 1923 he began an important collaboration with the Constructivist artist Aleksandr Rodchenko on an advertising campaign for Mosselprom, the state-run Moscow Food Stores. They called their firm reklam-konstruktor (Ad-Constructor); together they designed posters, packaging, and signs, with Mayakovsky providing witty, rhyming captions for Rodchenko’s bold graphics. The slogan net nigde krome kak v Mosselprome (“Nowhere else but at the Moscow Food Stores”) became as familiar to Russian consumers as jingles like “You’ll wonder where the yellow went/when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent” did to my generation of Americans.
The New Economic Policy (NEP), which Lenin instituted in 1921 in response to the economic devastations of the Revolution and Civil War, allowed for limited private enterprise (see page 19). But the NEP also meant that the state-run stores, previously fully subsidized, now had to operate at a profit. Rodchenko’s and Mayakovsky’s work for Mosselprom was complicated by the lack of identifying brand names or trademarks on most of the products, which fell under the purview of the government. The artists had to make their advertisements and packaging eye-catching enough to compete with jazzier products from private concerns. Yet the problems Rodchenko and Mayakovsky faced in working for Mosselprom were not limited to design. In the new socialist society, education — “Enlightenment” in Soviet terminology — was supposed to take precedence over aesthetics. So Rodchenko and Mayakovsky used their design work to agitate.
It is often difficult to gauge design as an ideological tool, but at the least, mass production served as an effective form of public inculcation, even for products not generally associated with political or social causes. Additionally, the mass production of goods and the effort to distribute them widely represented a kind of democratization, even in socialist Russia: for the first time, luxury goods like candy were available to everyone, not just the moneyed classes.
For “New Weight” candies, intended to introduce the new metric system in a pleasing way, Mayakovsky designed the candy wrappers and box and, with the poet Nikolai Aseyev, wrote instructive rhyming texts. For the Red Army candies produced by the Red October Candy Factory, he created images depicting the Civil War. These candies were produced in a series of ten, each with its own rhyming text. For instance, numbers 1 and 8, shown at left, read:*
Если на фронте опасность имеется, наша защита – красноармейцы.
If at the front we should face any danger, Our first defense – the Red Army soldier
Шире открой на Запад глаза, с Запада может прийти гроза.
Stare at the West with wide-open eyes Storms from the West may darken our skies.
The vivid yellows and reds of the candy wrappers are not only attention-grabbing, they also recall the bright colors of traditional peasant costumes and folk art. The typeface, too, bespeaks the past, unlike the streamlined sans serif lettering of Constructivist style. Yet there’s no mistaking the contemporary message. The stars sprinkled so generously across the wrappers substantiate the brand name of «Red Army Star» -- the symbol of the Soviet Army, whose fearless soldier appears ready to step right off the wrapper, with his bayoneted rifle protruding as it does beyond the picture frame.
In an autobiographical sketch, Mayakovsky wrote that his advertising jingles constituted “poetry of the highest caliber.” Even if not his most enduring work, the jingles freed the poet from the constraints of traditional verse making and offered an opportunity for social effectiveness. Mayakovsky’s candy wrappers represent the Constructivist belief in the inseparability of art and everyday life, and in the social utility of art. Through informed purchases, consumers could participate in making this new life. And eating candy, once perceived as nonessential, could now be justified as a cultural imperative.
This creamy, fudge-like candy is a great favorite among Russians. Something similar in taste is sold commercially under the brand “Korovka,” or “Cow.” However, if you aren’t a slastyona, be forewarned: this candy is very sweet!
1½ cups sugar
1 cup heavy cream
¾ cup chopped walnuts
Liberally grease an 8” square pan with butter.
In a heavy saucepan, mix together the sugar and cream and boil gently, stirring, for 10 to 12 minutes, until the mixture turns thick and creamy in color. A candy thermometer should register 245° (firm ball stage), or you can drop a little of the mixture in cold water; if it hardens right away it is ready.
Immediately stir in the nuts and turn the mass into the prepared pan, spreading evenly. Allow to cool for 2 hours, then cut into small squares to serve.
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