Soviet and Nazi Art

“Both the Soviet and Nazi regimes were dedicated to breaking with the past and so could be expected to embrace the avant-garde in art” Why did this not happen and what were the consequences?

In answering this question we must look at the several differing socio-cultural reasons for this retrograde attitude to the arts unique to both the USSR and the Third Reich but also there are also linked systemic and ideological reasons that help explain it.

At first both states seem diametrically opposed and different yet both states were totalitarian, highly ideologically driven, led by mediocre, violent, delusion demagogues. Yet their ideologies were vastly dissimilar, and the goals and aims of the states were as different as the two societies in those states were. In analysing the content and cultural basis of the art of the USSR and the Third Reich the political context must remain in the foreground, particularly given the overt political nature of both regimes.

Art in Tsarist Russia in the nineteenth century underwent radical change as it began to move away from the conventions held influenced by the art of the icon and that of European High art imported by the French and European inclined aristocracy1. The primary institution through which these styles were promulgated in Russia was the Imperial Academy created by Peter the Great2.

The nascent nationalism of the Russians and their Slavic providence began to influence the visual arts and the peasant and the rural soul of Russia became themes and subjects of Artists, like the Wanderers. They rejected the proscribed tests at the Imperial Academy of Arts and opted to “depict the lives of ordinary Russians, especially the oppressed”3 in contrast to the culturally rigid tastes of the academy.

This trend continued and in 20th Century Tsarist Russia4, and it carried through into the USSR (in the early 20s) where the Arts were free initially to be creative and embrace and be the Avant Garde. This was the result of the revolutionary tide against authority and the release from the Orthodox (both religious and cultural) influence and that of the Imperial Academy of Arts. The old dependence on bourgeois patrons vanished, creating new dynamics regarding the commissioning of art with the Bolshevik state emerging as a principal patron. Various artistic movements of great influence developing in this time such as Constructivism and Suprematism.

These movements in some ways symbolise the promise of freedom the revolution seemed to bring. Suprematism was based around the purity of geometric shapes, a dramatic step away from the figurative art that dominated Russia. It can be seen as a reflection of the intellectual idealism of the revolution. Constructivism was an artistic effort to connect art with the people, rather than representing the reality of the proletarian masses, emphasising practicality and physicality, representing the new role of proletariat as the dominant class.

Lenin himself spoke in a 1920 against radical experimentation and called for the continuation of the trends of conventional bourgeois art5. We can see some of the roots of the later Socialist Realism in the conventional attitudes to art brought from the collectivist attitude of the Bolsheviks and even in the more progressive movements like the Proletkult the disdain of the individualism of the avant-garde so vital to it.

Culturally the Russian peasant had long-standing notions of the immorality of surplus wealth, of the religious value in being poor6. Being part of the 'mir' village collective system also imbued a collectivist sense of ownership in the majority of the Russian people. This attitude created further hostility to the individualism of avant garde art than would otherwise have been. So when the revolution came it was the old intelligentsia and aristocracy were firmly established at the bottom of the social hierarchy.

The initial outpouring of creativity gradually succumbed to state control and ideology with the rise of the Stalinism before being officially ended with the introduction of the Socialist Realism style in 1934, effectively proscribing any art deemed unsuitable. The various hostilities to the modernist tendency in Russian art came to be formalised in the state favoured doctrine of Socialist Realism. A conventional style recalling the Wanderers, emphasising the not only the glorious triumphs of Soviet civilization but it's intended destination7; works had to be realist and represent the ideal Soviet socialist society. For those artists that dared go against the will of the state and the doctrine of Socialist Realism the punishments could be extremely harsh, ranging from employment issues8, difficulty in practising the arts9, to being sent to a Siberian Gulag.

Art in the Soviet Union under Socialist Realism then was narrowly constrained in the doctrinal confines determined by the state. The fervour that accompanied the creativity of the revolutionary period transmuted in public acquiescence and conventional state approved expression. Yet this public face contrasted with the non-conformist art that Soviet citizens produced for their own private desires. This art was not displayed in galleries, exhibitions, the art magazines or other public media in the USSR, and as such remained strictly private10. Some of this art became available in the west and in this obtuse way the 'unofficial' art was freely available, albeit not in the country it was made.

In the revolutionary years of the USSR and those immediately following, a mass artistic organisation, the Proletkult (proletarskaya kultura – proletarian culture), arose in 1917, in the very last period of the Provisional Government. It incorporated the different pre-revolutionary organisations11 into one dedicated artistic wing of the Dictatorship of the Proletariat12. This organisation was dedicated to creating and reflecting the new 'proletarian culture'13.

Though nominal independent, such a position created hitherto unforeseen issues in the relationship of art and the state. Ideologically Proletkult was for collectivist and proletarian forms of expression as befitted such an organisation. The mass membership of Proletkult and its vanguardist stance on working class culture shows the progressive and avant garde at work in Soviet Russia, and contrasts completely with the elite bourgeois ethos of the Tsarist period.

Art in Nazi Germany was set upon a different path than the USSR. Culturally Germany was a world away from Orthodox Russia. Religious heterogeneity meant that there was no overarching theological framework like the Orthodox Church to formalise religious iconography. The earlier development of Capitalism contrasted with Russia’s tardy entrance into the world economy, and meant there was a longer tradition of bourgeois patronage.

Yet Germany too experienced a period of creativity following the collapse of it’s own Empire which paralleled that of Revolutionary Russia. It was in the years of the Weimar Republic the arts embraced the avant-garde. Famous movements like Bauhaus emerged14, symbolising the permissiveness of the Weimar years. Even before this groups, such as ‘Die Brücke’ and ‘Der Blaue Reiter’ had been founding influences of Expressionism.

The rise of the Nazis spelled the end of this freedom in the arts for they saw Bolshevik and Jewish influence and subversion in modernist art15. Although apparently embracing the modern the Nazi's held a highly racist world-view, with themselves at the top, towering over the inferior untermenschen, such as Jews, Blacks and Slavs; any prominent Jews in the arts, sciences etc were severely discriminated against. This discrimination provided a scape goat for the ills of German society and enabled the Nazis to distract the majority of society from their totalitarian dictatorship.

Soon after gaining power Bauhaus was closed by order of Göring as a “bastion of subversives16”. In contrast to the experimentalism of modern art and design typified by the Bauhaus, the Nazis encouraged realist depictions of the Aryan race in line with their political ideology emphasising the vigour, martial prowess, and the rural idyll of the Fatherland17. This attitude is evident even in ‘Mein Kampf’, where to Hitler, modern art is “the product of diseased minds, themselves the product of a degenerate race18”.

The doctrine became known as Heroic Realism, the name has strong echoes of Socialist Realism and was indeed comparable in limiting art to a physical manifestation of government ideology whether Nazi or Soviet. A defining feature of Nazi art was its pre-occupation with the Aryan form, art full of strong muscular men, and curvaceous blond maidens.

This Heroic Realism naturally precluded any art that did not adhere to their strict definitions, and artists deemed unsuitable, including communists, socialists and Jews as well as those whose work did not conform to their ideals, were often simply arrested, others fired from their academic positions19. This was similar to events in the Soviet Union with the Gulags replaced with Concentration Camps.

More than simply arrest or impoverish disagreeable artists the Third Reich created a exhibition of ‘degenerate art’ intended to discredit and besmirch Modern Art. The exhibition included the works of more than 100 ‘degenerate’ artists and toured several German cities starting in Munich on July 19, 1937.

The Degenerate Art exhibition contrasted greatly with the ‘Great German Art Exhibition’ also opening in Munich that same July.  The art for the exhibition was confiscated from the various museums and galleries of the Third Reich under order of Hitler and Göebbels20. The pieces were arranged in a haphazard fashion and adorned with negative and undermining comments21. More than two million visited the exhibition22, significantly more than visited the exhibition of Germanic art, indicating a level of popularity with the German public the Nazis would be loath to admit. Against the backdrop of the removal of artists not agreeable to the Nazis, the exhibitions actually removed the art itself, not just physically but in the context of public display. Both the art and artists who made it, were removed from the ‘volksgemeinschaft23’ the Nazis tried to create. This public shaming was another tool the Nazi's used against their cultural opponents.

We can see that the Nazis and Soviets embrace of realism in art, overlaid with their ideological beliefs held complex roots. In the USSR the revolution created an outburst of artistic creativity, at the crest of the world's avant garde. This wave was smashed on the rocks of Stalinist control and domination of society. The individualism and freedom in the arts prevalent in the revolutionary years was fundamentally compatible with this desire to control. The Socialist Realist doctrine enshrined a rigid monotonous art style devoid of the new intellectual ideas, only displaying not representing new buildings, new machinery etc. The relentless modernisation of industry under Stalin was accompanied by retrograde moves in the Arts.

In Nazi Germany the racist fascist ideology of the Nazis was doomed to clash with modernity in art, representing freedom and intellectualism rather than the wholesome 'Blut und Boden24', rural Aryan life and Germanic military might the National Socialists demanded of their art. Cultural policy was a way for the Nazis to legitimise their ideology just as much as the employment figures or tank production.

It was the individualism and freedom of avant garde art that prompted the USSR and the Third Reich to oppose and persecute modern art, by repressing art and creating state sanctioned forms tied to ideological purity.

Bibliography

Golomshtok, Igor and Glezer, Alexander

Unofficial Art from the Soviet Union

Publisher Martin Secker and Warburg Limited 1977

ISBN 0-394-41664-9




Mally, Lynn.

Culture of the Future: The Proletkult Movement in Revolutionary Russia. Berkeley: University of California Press, c1990 1990. http://ark.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/ft6m3nb4b2/




Berger, John

Art and Revolution Ernst Neizvestny and the Role of the artist in the USSR

Publisher Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1969




Hosking, Geoffrey

Russia and the Russians, From Earliest times to 2001

Publisher Penguin Books, 2002




Figes, Orlando

Natasha's Dance A cultural history of Russia

Publisher Penguin Books, 2002

ISBN 0-713-99517-3




Hinz, Berthold

Art in the Third Reich

Publisher Basil Blackwell Publisher, 1980

ISBN 0-631-12501-9




Adam, Peter

The Art of the Third Reich

Publisher Thames and Hudson, 1992




Petropoulos, Jonathan.

Art as politics in the Third Reich

Publisher Chapel Hill, N.C. ; London : University of North Carolina Press, c1996.

ISBN 080782240X




Grunberger, Richard

A Social History of the Third Reich

Publisher Phoenix Books, 2005

c 1971

0-75381-938-4


1Orlando Figes – Natasha's Dance pg 24


2John Berger – Art and Revolution pg 22


3Geoffrey Hosking – Russia and the Russians pg 348


4John Berger – Art and Revolution pg 27


5http://marxists.org/archive/lenin/works/1920/oct/08.htm


6Orlando Figes – Natasha's Dance pg 437


7Orlando Figes – Natasha's Dance pg 474


8Orlando Figes – Natasha's Dance pg 480


9John Berger – Art and Revolution pg 64


10Igor Golomshtok and Alexander Gleazer - Unofficial Art from the Soviet Union pg VIII


11Lynn Mally - Culture of the Future The Proletkult Movement in Revolutionary Russia pg 26


12 Lynn Mally - Culture of the Future The Proletkult Movement in Revolutionary Russia pg xviii


13Lynn Mally - Culture of the Future The Proletkult Movement in Revolutionary Russia pg 26/78


14Richard Grunberger – A Social History of the Third Reich pg 530


15Richard Grunberger – A Social History of the Third Reich pg 531


16Jonathan Petropoulos – Art as Politics in the Third Reich pg 20


17Berthold Hinz – Art in the Third Reich pg 17


18 Peter Adam – The Art of the Third Reich pg 10


19 Berthold Hinz – Art in the Third Reich pg 30


20 Peter Adam – The Art of the Third Reich pg 121


21 Berthold Hinz – Art in the Third Reich pg 40


22 Peter Adam – The Art of the Third Reich pg 124/125


23 National Community


24 Blood and Soil

Berlin, Germany and Everything

Berlin is in all senses of the word modern. It is a city going forward, a metropolis of the future despite its overpowering past. New construction work is everywhere and the city is replete with contemporary Steel and glass skyscrapers and renovated buildings and façades. Formerly dour areas in the old DDR sections of the city are now trendy cosmopolitan areas with fashionable bars and restaurants. The city is finally healing after 70 years of strife beginning in WW2, and throughout the Cold War. 

The past, of course, lives on with the difference in 'Green Men' at traffic lights, streets with names like 'Karl Marx Allee' (formerly Stalinallee). The DDR's Fernsehturm is visible throughout the city, a stark reminder of the old regime's grand and flawed vision. 

A symbol of the transcendence of this past in the dome of the Reichstag, a building familiar to any student of 20th century for its association with the 2nd & 3rd Reichs. A British architect was behind the transformation, moving the building beyond the 20th century not in architectural terms (though it is impressive) but in cultural and historic terms with the glass dome more striking and memorable than the buildings past, something that would have seemed impossible before 1990. 

Berlin is the largest and capital city of Germany, so it is appropriate that it is a fast moving city. It's hustle and bustle is not rooted in big commerce & business, as in London, something that has stayed in the west in cities like Frankfurt, or through self importance like Paris. It is cultural, as something IS happening somewhere. Something very interesting. An exhibition, new sculptures, a gallery, new music, new squats.... 

It is something that has been in the city for some time, since at least the 1920s if not before. David Bowie's 3 best albums were a response to Berlin, "the Berlin trilogy" of Low, Heroes & Lodger. In the 1920s Berlin was the centre for European film and now the city hosts an eminent film festival. 

This creativity is something that is not associated with Germany by the English as a whole. England is a country where Germany cannot escape association with the war, efficiency and the image of moustachioed men suffering from mullets drinking hearty glasses of bier. This attitude is unfair and outdated, but more to do with English insularity than anything else. 

Berlin doesn't care and nor should it. It has something vital and passionate, something any English city should be jealous of, and many wish they had. Manchester thinks it is creative and interesting. Berlin is. Manchester reinvented itself once, in the late 1990s and lost whatever gave it soul, and gained a new shopping centre and over priced yuppie district. Berlin has reinvented itself 5 times in less than a 100 years, gaining each time a new dynamism and character.

The city has much to offer visitors. Berliners are friendly and many speak English, especially in "die Mitte". The museums are world class, cheap and extensive. The Jewish Museum is a wonder, almost worth a visit in and off itself such is its depth and breadth. Here in one building, Germany deals with its past in public, with sensitivity and grace, omitting nothing and creating a narrative stretching back to the 12th century. There is in fact a small island inthe River Spree, called "Museuminsel" (Museum Island) covered with museums. Onecould visit for a month and still have plenty to go round.

Berlin is blessed with numerous bars, serving fantastic beer at low prices. It really does make your average crappy English lager look like piss (there are many high quality English beers but they often aren't served in pubs/bars, at least not round our way). Germany seems to not have as much problems with booze, with revellers drinking happily on the street bothering no one. The one time on my visits to Germany that there has been trouble drinking was caused byan English squaddie in Paderbonn.

Traditional German food involves hearty chunks of meat, with lashings of potatoes and cabbage. This has not changed much, but this food does go well with large amounts of Pils. They have a natural affinity and this excellent combination can be had in Berlin all over town. As a major city there are many fine restaurants of many different cuisines, but to be fair Berlin is not a gastronomic destination unless you have a love affair with stodge. Culturally and historically it is a major destination. It is an amazingly interesting city.

Soviet Cinema of the 1950s

In this essay I will examine Soviet cinema through the context of official expectation as codified in the doctrine of Socialist Realism. I will establish a chronological dichotomy at the heart of the 1950s in the USSR and so the differing political context of each period will be examined and it's effect on Soviet cinema analysed. I will first look at the socio-political situation in the post war Stalinist period, and then move on to discuss the cinema of the time. Following this I will look closely at two thaw era films, 'Cranes are Flying' and 'BalIad of a Soldier' to analyse the award winning Soviet cinema of the thaw. will argue that while the shift from Stalin to Kruschev did give art and culture more room for expression, that this increase was still heavily curtailed by CPSU control and ideology. I will also show that technical excellence is a feature of Soviet cinema, in terms of cinematography and scale.

In analysing Soviet cinema we must first establish a historical framework in which to examine the themes and issues of the art form. The 1950s in the USSR can be divided into two different periods, with the defining event being the death of Stalin in 1953 which cleaves the decade in two. The period up to Stalin’s death is part of the post-war period 1946 - 1953, which was harsh and brutal for the Soviet people and characterised by use of art as merely a political tool. This Cold War started in this period and the paranoia and militarism of that emerging conflict was reflected in every aspect of Soviet society,

The period following the dictator's death is defined by Kruschev's speech "On the Personality Cult and its Consequences" and a thaw in the severity of the regime's repression. This manifested itself in the arts with a loosening of censorship, with books such as "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich" published which would have unthinkable during the preceding Stalinist period. In Kruschev's speech there are numerous mentions of the sycophancy of Stalinist cinema, even going so far as to describe his experience of the “country and agriculture only from films. And these films dressed up and beautified the existing situation in agriculture.”
In the post war Stalinist period, Stalin remained as dictator, and his rule was as brutal and capricious as ever, and the promise of material advancement as prophecised by Marxism-Leninism was swept away in the militarisation of the early cold war. In these types of conditions cinema has been a traditional form of escapism, such as depression era Hollywood, yet in this period the Soviet film industry produced a mere 124 feature films.


The censorship of Stalin and that of the wider CPSU is characterised by Zhdanov. Zdhanov had been instrumental in instigating 'Socialist Realism', so that his legacy in cultural matters that Social Realism is almost interchangeable with 'Zhdanovism'. At the behest of party luminaries like Zhdanov, violence and murder that were the tools of repression discouraged entrance into the Film Industry, and this led to a paucity of productions experienced in the post war USSR. This was a continuation and culmination of a trend that began in the 1930s during the purges. Repression meant that Soviet Cinema in the post war Stalinist period was rigid and formulaic through the heavy control exercised by the CPSU, and this was exacerbated by the effects of the Great Patriotic War. The conflict caused immense privation in all areas of Soviet society and economy, and this is shown in the Cinema of the period, in both output and by the use of captured filmstock from the Third Reich. The material circumstances of the post war period were felt by belligerents across the globe (except in the untouched USA), but despite this cinema experienced "A Golden Age" in Japan,  and similar vibrancy in the other states such as the U.K. And Italy.

Post-war Soviet cinema has been classified into a number of genres that share many stylistic qualities, amongst which artistic documentaries and biographies stand as being most indicative of CPSU policy. Artistic Documentaries were neither artistic or documentaries but fictional accounts of the great patriotic war.
They are notable for depicting Stalin as a character where before he did not appear on screen, which seems strange given the cult of personality surrounding the Soviet dictator. Stalin was not a charismatic leader, nor was he a physically imposing character which explains his absence from the big screen. Despite this the 'Cult of Personality' was a powerful force. This can be seen in films such as "The Oath" and "The Fall of Berlin" amongst others, in the undiluted praise of Stalin and to a lesser extent the Soviet leadership. The history they portray is one from the top of Soviet society, particularly of Stalin; these films are uninterested in the experiences of the Soviet people. The 'Cult of Personality' was highly prominent in cinema: these films validate Stalin as leader and the CPSUduring the war as if Stalin and STAVKA were the sole forces that defeated the Third Reich. This arrangement is demonstrated in “The Fall of Berlin”, in which a solider - worker is the ostensibly the focus of the film, but the caricatures and of the leader of the foreign powers and the stylisation of each scene over power his presence. These films are often epic and feature extras from the Red Army which does give an air of authenticity the scripts lacked.

This aggrandisement extended beyond the glorification of 'Papa Stalin' to other fields, so that Russian and Soviet scientists were the geniuses behind the major advances of modern civilization, that Russian authors the greatest without exception and similarly for composers and admirals. These 'Biographies' were part of the emerging Cold War, and also a reflection of the Russian nationalism unleashed in the Great Patriotic War. The content of these films because of the falsification of events could be tailored to meet Party approval, rather than for artistic or popular appeal which bequeathed to them “a bland uniformity of style”. These fictional re-tellings of history are the logical extension of the show trials of the purges so that not only society is bent to the will of the party but the history of science and culture itself.

The “Kruschev Thaw” removed these constraints which were linked to the 'cult of personality' in promoting Stalin, and that of false histories to promote non-existent Russian and Soviet achievements but kept in place ideological doctrines as regarded the arts, and by extension cinema. A notable example is that of the winner of the Palme d'Or at the 1958 Cannes Film Festival, Mikhail Kalatozov's “Cranes are Flying”. The subject of the film is the Great Patriotic War, but instead of promoting the “Cult of Personality” 'Cranes are Flying' counts the human cost of that war, this demonstrates the shift that took place during 'the Thaw'.

On a surface level this film is the story of a lovelorn victim of the Great Patriotic War; Veronika's struggle is as much with the misery of war as with her own sadness at her boyfriend's death. There is a clear dichotomy at the heart of the film, that can be applies at a personal and societal level, of those loyal and true, and those selfish and deceitful. Veronika is raped by her boyfriend's cousin, Mark, and out of shame marries him. Mark avoided service through bribery and deceit, whereas Boris, Veronika's boyfriend/fiancée, volunteered. Boris was a hard worker, and is shown at work: strenuous manual labour, where Mark was an artist, seemingly lazy and indulgent, lacking self control. The contrast is clear: Mark betrayed his family and his country whereas Boris was loyal and worthy of Veronika's love. Even Boris's death was selfless and courageous as he saved the life of one who he had fought previously for mocking his relationship with Veronika.

There are moments of sarcasm and dissent directed at the regime, notably when Fyodor Ivanovich says “Comrade Boris, fight to the last drop of blood, and beat the fascists! And we at the plant will meet and exceed our production quotas......We've heard all that before.” This seems to be outrageous dissent, against both the industrial targets and of the war effort but it represents a deep internalisation of rhetoric, and faced with the service of his only son Fyodor comes across as more a concerned father rather than a 'subversive'. He is also shown later in the film to be a dedicated and high level doctor, who motivates his patients in a manner that would befit a propagandist. The concern of the film at a moral level is against anti-social behaviour, rather than explicitly anti-soviet behaviour. The two are linked however as the CPSU is the state and society, so anti-social behaviour is ultimately subversive.

The cinematography of the film is excellent and owes a debt to the Soviet avant garde of the 1920's, with sophisticated montages, but also to the epics of Soviet propaganda in the massive crowd scenes. These show seemingly the entirety of socialist society, there are lovers, children, parents and grandparents in one seamless shot panning across a fence, a fence that separates the private lives of the people seeing off their loved ones, with the official lives of the Soviet citizens drafted into the Red Army. Another shot shoes Boris racing up the stairs to Veronika, which tracks him all the way circling with him in a piece of cinematography that leaves one breathless even now, with the sophisticated camera work matching Boris's frenetic dash. 'Cranes are Flying' is a continuation of the work of the avant garde rather than a fresh start for Soviet cinema. The avant garde was halted in it's tracks and so by allowing it to continue 'the thaw' can be seen as reasserting a revolutionary tradition.

Another film that demonstrates the increased freedom of the thaw within the confines of the Soviet system is the 1962 BAFTA wining “Ballad of a Soldier” directed by Grigori Chukhrai, released in the USSR in 1959. The film like “Cranes are Flying” is film about the effects of the Great Patriotic War on ordinary people, but instead of focusing on the trials of an individual in the face of death and misery, it is a 'road film' where a young soldier travels across the country to see his mother in a distant rural village. The film uses an interesting plot device in that the opening scene tells us of the soldiers death “ buried far from his birthplace, near a town with a foreign name.” We know the fate of young Alyosha before he even begins the journey which is the core of the film. This never undermines the power of the film and in many ways reinforces the meaning of his journey.
On his journey Alyosha meets a young girl Shura, who is going home to see her pilot boyfriend injured in combat, and they gradually form a friendship which grows into a romantic attachment, so that he protects her from arrest by a corrupt guard at one point in the film. Their relationship is a never consummated but their young passion is a liberating force in the film, compared to the war torn landscape, crammed trains and endless plains. As Alyosha leaves on the final train home to his village Shura says she never had a boyfriend. Alyosha then thinks on the train home that this was really an expression of love and he regrets not reciprocating. This can be seen as mirroring the lack of expression under Stalin and the need for expression now. The film is largely devoid of open sloganeering, but like 'Cranes are Flying' it is concerned with anti-social behaviour, such as that of the corrupt carriage guard or the cheating wife of the soldier Pavlov.

This film owes less of a debt to the avant garde tradition than 'Cranes are Flying' and it has a less stylised look, but does come from that tradition. There are less long tracking shots, and it has a rapidity in the editing that the Kalatozov does not. It intersperses the film with moving landscape shots, which give us a feel of the vast Russian landscape and the sensation of movement, which given the nature of the film is necessary.
IN conclusion the key features of Soviet cinema in the 1950s were ideological correctness, whether it be Stalinist or Kruschevite. The systemic features of Soviet cinema of scale and technical artistry remained constant throughout the period. The use of cinema as a political tool was also a constant throughout the period, although in different guises, so that the blunt use of cinema by the Stalinists is almost unrecognisable to the sophisticated dramas employed in the thaw to promote social unity and harmony.

While not the sole theme of Soviet cinema, the Great Patriotic War was a key subject matter whether as part of a party led propaganda effort as was in the early part of the decade or whether as a cathartic exhumation as in the latter half. The approaches of the cinema of the era shifted as did the internal politics of the USSR; politics led life and art in the worker's state, under both Stalin and Kruschev.

The state demanded propaganda in the reign of Stalin and it got it. Rigid formulaic films were the norm, with repetitive plots and themes. Those films did display some merit in the technical sphere but the resources the larger productions received made this a likely outcome. Red Army soldiers were requisitioned throughout the cinematic history of the USSR, giving battle scenes an impressive scale. This scale was not limited to the Stalinist era, the 1968 adaptation of 'War and Peace' featured a cast of literally thousands of Red Army soldiers. As films were a consequence of state funding commercial success was less of a goal than in other film industries, which gave Soviet cinema it's artistic nature. Soviet camera work is frequently breathtaking as in 'Cranes are Flying' and 'Soy Cuba', but also in 'Battleship Potemkin'. So the best features of the post-war cinema were a result of Red Army co-operation and the structure of Soviet cinema.

During “the Thaw” the loosening of the ideological constraints produced both an increase in qualitative and quantitative terms, and also to international acclaim for Soviet cinema. The ideological constraints on cinema remained though, and instead of decrying anti-soviet behaviour the emphasis shifted to anti-social behaviour. This was a subtle shift, and the harmonious society that the CPSU envisaged was still promoted in this manner. The protagonists remain loyal Soviet citizens, hard-working and honest.

'The Thaw' itself was not merely a relaxation of cultural control but itself a political tool which was used by Kruschev against the orthodox Stalinists that remained in the upper echelons of the state and CPSU. The liberalisation of culture brought tangible benefits, such as the credibility that Palme d'Or which 'Cranes are Flying' and the BAFTA of 'Ballad of a Soldier' won bestowed upon Soviet cinema and the increase in cinematic output as a measure of socialist growth. Films still were controlled and censored though, so all films released in the period were state approved.

Bibliography

Orlando Figes, Natasha's Dance: A Cultural History of Russia, (Penguin, 2002)

Peter Kenez, Cinema and Soviet Society 1917 – 1953,(Cambridge University Press, 1992)

Anna Lawton, Kinoglasnost: Soviet Cinema in our Time, (Cambridge University Press: 1992)

Natacha Laurent - Deconstructing Stalin in Mikhail Chiaureli’s Kliatva (1946)http://web.uct.ac.za/conferences/filmhistorynow/papers/nlaurent.rtf

Mira Liehm and Antonin J. Liehm, The Most Important Art: Soviet and Eastern European Film after 1945, (University of California, 1977)

Megan Ratner, Introduction to Neo-Realism http://www.greencine.com/static/primers/neorealism1.jsp

Filmography

Sergei Bondarchuk (dir), Destiny of a Man (MosFilm, 1959)

Sergei Bondarchuk (dir), War and Peace (MosFilm, 198)

Mikheil Chiaureli (dir), The Fall of Berlin (MosFilm, 1949)

Mikheil Chiaureli (dir), The Oath (Tbilisis Kinostudia, 1946)

Grigori Chukhrai (dir), Ballad of a Solider (MosFilm, 1959)

Sergei Eisenstein (dir), Battleship Potemkin (GosKino, 1925)

Mikhail Kalatozov (dir), Soy Cuba/I am Cuba (MosFilm, 1964)

Mikhail Kalatozov (dir), Cranes are Flying (MosFilm, 1957)

Mira Liehm and Antonin J. Liehm, The Most Important Art: Soviet and Eastern European Film after 1945, (University of California, 1977) page 48

From Kruschev's speech “On the Personality Cult and its Consequences” from the Guardian series “Great Speeches of the 20thCentury” accessed at 16:22 on 01/03/2010 http://www.guardian.co.uk/theguardian/2007/apr/26/greatspeeches

Peter Kenez, Cinema and Soviet Society 1917 – 1953,(Cambridge University Press, 1992) page 227

Mira Liehm and Antonin J. Liehm, The Most Important Art: Soviet and Eastern European Film after 1945, (University of California, 1977) page 37

Peter Kenez, Cinema and Soviet Society 1917 – 1953,(Cambridge University Press, 1992) page 211

Italian Cinema's Neo-Realist movement actually began during the second world war in which conditions were just as harsh as the USSR, and shares a time frame of roughly 1943 to 1952 which corresponds roughly to the period of post-war Stalinism and as such is an interesting comparison. Introduction to Neo-Realism by Megan Ratnerhttp://www.greencine.com/static/primers/neorealism1.jsp Accessed at 12:00 on 03/03/2010

Natacha Laurent - Deconstructing Stalin in Mikhail Chiaureli’s Kliatva (1946) page 1, From websitehttp://web.uct.ac.za/conferences/filmhistorynow/papers/nlaurent.rtf accessed at 20:10 on 05/03/2010

Peter Kenez, Cinema and Soviet Society 1917 – 1953,(Cambridge University Press, 1992) page 229/230

Peter Kenez, Cinema and Soviet Society 1917 – 1953,(Cambridge University Press, 1992) page 228/229

Mira Liehm and Antonin J. Liehm, The Most Important Art: Soviet and Eastern European Film after 1945, (University of California, 1977) page 61 - 62

Anna Lawton, Kinoglasnost: Soviet Cinema in our Time, (Cambridge University Press: 1992) page 2

Something which was in many ways necessary following the Great Patriotic War when millions of Soviet citizens collaborated with the Nazis and millions of soldiers saw the material prosperity of the west first hand.

The Soviet High Command during the Great Patriotic War

Peter Kenez, Cinema and Soviet Society 1917 – 1953,(Cambridge University Press, 1992) page 240

Mira Liehm and Antonin J. Liehm, The Most Important Art: Soviet and Eastern European Film after 1945, (University of California, 1977) page 66

From the Cannes Film Festival Website, accessed at 16:52 on 08/03/2010 from http://www.festival-cannes.com/en/archives/ficheFilm/id/3512.html

Mikhail Kalatozov (dir), Cranes are Flying (MosFilm, 1957), at 22:30

Mira Liehm and Antonin J. Liehm, The Most Important Art: Soviet and Eastern European Film after 1945, (University of California, 1977) page 200

From IMDB website accessed at 21:49 on 08/03/2010 from http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0052600/awards

Grigori Chukhrai (dir), Ballad of a Solider (MosFilm, 1959) 02:41

From IMBD http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063794/ accessed at 13:02 on 08/03/2010