On Creativity

When we finally assemble an issue of Russian Life, we have been planning, assigning, translating and editing its stories over a period of weeks and months. And then, when the stories come together into a single issue, patterns or themes start to emerge.

The geographical arc we can map through the stories in this issue stretches from the mountains of Ossetia in the South, through Chernobyl in Ukraine, the Ust-Luga region just beyond St. Petersburg, and on up to the Arctic city of Kirovsk. Yes, there is the outlier of the story on the Irkutsk artist, but then you always need an exception to prove the rule.

The thematic arc that unites our features is that of creativity in the face of neglect, persistence in the face of oppression, resilience in the face of difficulty. And also there is the eternal dichotomy of private and public in society: of the individual’s quest for spontaneity and autonomy in the face of state and societal pressure for conformity and loyalty.

We have skiers and a ceramicist who put their art out in the world, figuring it is easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission. We have the members of small national groups (Ossetians, Votes) seeking to retain their traditions while the forces of nationalism and globalism cry for unity and compliance. And we have political leaders (Lenin, Gorbachev, Putin) seeking to convince Russian citizens that they alone know the best way forward (NEP, perestroika, silovik nationalism), and that it would be best if everyone just fell into line.

Against this backdrop, the protagonist of our story “Sidewalk Art,” Ivan Kravchenko, offers an admirable perspective when speaking of the general aims of his effort: “anyone can do something for their local region if they have the will.”

But, as the story on the Votes (and, indeed, all of history) shows, this perspective should have a caveat: “If those with power (no matter if political, economic, or social) allow it.”

To Hannah Arendt (On Totalitarianism, 1950), a central aspect of totalitarianism and despotism is that those seeking unfettered power must create a consistent, fictional view of the world alongside an utter contempt for reality. “No ideology which aims at the explanation of all historical events of the past,” she writes, “and at mapping out the course of all events of the future can bear the unpredictability which springs from the fact that men are creative, that they can bring forward something so new that nobody ever foresaw it.”

Creativity and spontaneity will always rankle despots of all characters and calibers. And that is why, theme or no theme, we will always celebrate those things in our pages, but in this issue in particular.

Be safe out there, and enjoy the issue.