Today’s post includes two scans of material from Nëndori, the monthly literary and artistic journal published by the Union of Writers and Artists in Albania during the socialist era. I’ve recently spent some time with several critical essays published in the pages of Nëndori [later Nëntori] in the late 1960s and early 1970s in preparation for a paper I presented at ASEEES 2019 (and an associated journal article), and I wanted to share two resources that I’ve found particularly useful.
The first is an essay by the critic Andon Kuqali (who I’ve discussed in other posts) entitled “Art dhe Revizionistë: Shënime për artin sovjetik të viteve të fundit” [“Art and Revisionists: Notes on Soviet Art in Recent Years”], published in Nëndori 5, 1971. This essay is one of the more interesting and thorough attempts to point out the ideological and aesthetic shortcomings of late socialist art in the Soviet Union, from the point of view of non-aligned Stalinism (the path Albania had taken by this time). In it, Kuqali argues against both what he calls “monumental falsity” [fallsitet monumental] and the so-called “strict style” [stili i rreptë in Albanian, surovyi stil in Russian], as well as against the “mysticism” of Soviet artists such as Dmitry Zhilinsky. The essay is one of the few pieces of writing published at the time that is illustrated with examples of some of the works criticized (albeit in poorly-reproduced, black-and-white images), and it shows Kuqali engaging with specific works and pieces of writing published in the Soviet sphere.
The second scan today is the following number of Nëndori, which contains the reports on the discussion of the first annual national meeting of architects, which took place on May 6, 1971. This selection of texts includes the main address given by Sokrat Mosko, a member of the directorial committee of the Union of Writers and Artists, as well as shorter speeches given by architects, artists, critics, and writers, including Fadil Paçrami, Kristaq Rama, Enver Faja, Valentina Pistoli, Petraq Kolevica, and Foto Stamo. Just as interesting as these discussions–which give a vital snapshot of the state of architectual and urbanist discourses in Albania at the outset of the 70s decade–is a portfolio of photographs that follow the reports. This selection of photos documents a plethora of socialist modern (and modernist) buildings constructed in Albania in the first decades of the communist period. These range from factories to apartment buildings to hotels, from bridges to a lapidar.
Of particular interest is the fact that Maks Velo (the architect of the lapidar commemorating Misto Mame, juxtaposed in the portfolio against his equally modernist architecture for the ‘Emin Duraku’ School in Tirana) is also featured on the back of this volume of Nëndori, with a primitivist illustration of women dressed in folk costumes.
In honor of May 1, today’s post features a full scan of an art album published in 1977 in the People’s Socialist Republic of Albania: Klasa Punëtore në Artet Figurative [The Working Class in the Figurative Arts]. This book represents a kind of companion to the earlier Ushtria Popullore në Artet Figurative [The People’s Army in the Figurative Arts, 1969], and indeed there is some inevitable overlap between the themes of the two, since socialist culture aimed to emphasize the direct cooperation and interdependency of the development of working class consciousness and the legacy of partisan military organization.
The book contains a wealth of images of painting, sculpture, drawings, and prints (unfortunately nearly all reproduced in black and white) focused on workers in both industrial and agricultural settings. It includes scenes of work and leisure alike.
The earliest images in the book are focused not so much on workers as on the founding of the Albanian Communist Party (later the Albanian Party of Labor) and the partisan struggle, while the later images (especially the prints and poster designs near the end) are keyed to specific political events (i.e. the 7th Congress of the Albanian Party of Labor).
Today’s post is a full scan of Albanian photographer Niko Xhufka’s album Ritme të Jetës Shqiptare [Rhythms of Albanian Life], published in 1976. Xhufka was one of the finest photographers working in socialist Albania, and his works evidence the originality and aesthetic force of Albanian documentary and socialist realist photography during the socialist years.
Most studies of photography as it has developed in Albania have focused either on earlier phtographers, such as the Marubis, or else have treated socialist photography in the country as little more than a means of propaganda. Xhufka’s images are striking because they are so obviously ‘artistic’–richly indebted to and conscious of a tradition of avant-garde, realist, and socialist realist photography–even as their ideological content is plainly legible. It is truly impressive to survey this collection of works and see Xhufka shift effortlessly between dynamic, abstract compositons that recall Russian avant-garde photography; clear and legible compositions emphasizing the narrative clarity of socialst realism; and sweeping aerial landscape panoramas.
While the entire album is a treasure, my favorite image is certainly a pair of juxtaposed photos entitled Zëvendësimi (Myzeqe) [Transplantation (Myzeqe)]. The first of the images shows a pair of storks nesting atop a twisted tree against a background of gray, flat fields. In the second image, the stork’s nest sits atop the skeletal structure of an electrical tower, and bottom edge of the photo is filled with stalks of grain or hay. The image succinctly pictures the ‘modernization’ of Albania carried out under socialism in a way that is both iconographically and compositionally striking.
* Several years ago, I first came across Xhufka’s work at propagandaphotos, and I am indebted to that blog for drawing my attention to a truly amazing artist. This interview with Xhufka offers important information on his work, process, career, and life.
Today’s post interrupts our series of scans of PamorART magazine to bring you a full scan of the 1977 publication Revolucionarno Kiparstvo [Revolutionary Sculpture], a photobook published in 1977 [Zagreb: Spektar] in Yugoslavia chronicling major monuments and works of public sculpture created up to that point in the country. The book features an introductory essay by Juraj Baldani, entitled “Jugoslovensko angažirano socijalno i revolunionarno kiparstvo” [“Yugoslav socially engaged and revolutionary sculpture”] that presents a historical context for social/ist sculpture in the country beginning on the late 19th century and culminating in the postwar socialist years. The book also provides short biographies of the sculptors and architects whose works are represented.
This photobook showcases the truly impressive diversity of socialist sculpture (and its predecessors) in the former Yugoslavia, including the works of Bogdan Bogdanović, Vojin Bakić, Dušan Džamonja, Antun Augustinčić, Jordan Grabulovski, Drago Tršar, and Miodrag Živković, among many others.
Today’s blog post is another departure from the typically Albanian-centered content on this blog. The post contains a scan of Mircea Grozdea’s Arta monumentală contemporană [ContemporaryMonumental Art] (1987), an album documenting trends in socialist Romanian monumental art in a variety of media, including sculpture, tapestry, and mosaic. Grozdea (also the author of Arta monumentală în România socialistă [Monumental Art in Socialist Romania] (1973), previously presented here) provides an overview of the developments of monumental art in Romania, including information on the major artists and on the institutional framework for the production of the monuments (the introduction is in Romanian, but an overview in English—“Monuments: Insignia of an Epoch”—follows the illustrations).
Bulgaria’s vast territory contains some of socialist Eastern Europe’s most striking monuments, many of which are perfect paradigms of what Christina Lodder calls the “restrained modernism” of the Soviet monumental style–a coupling of clearly legible figuration with dynamic Cubist influences that resulted in chiselled and muscular socialist heroes. The book is written in Bulgarian, but contains a summary section in German in its back section. Even for those unable to read the text, however, the images are invaluable evidence of the creative fecundity of artists engaged in monumental projects in Bulgaria. The survey stretches back to monuments created in the country’s ancient past, leaping forward to cover the 19th and 20th centuries in detail and establishing a sweeping narrative of monumental practices.
Today’s post is yet another scan of a classic of socialist Albanian aesthetic theory, Alfred Uçi’s Estetika Jeta Arti [Aesthetics, Life, Art] , published in 1970. The book presents an admirable overview of Marxist-Leninist-Stalinist aesthetic theory. As an introductory statement in the volume states, the book was published in response to the simultaneous intensification in Albania’s ‘class war’ coupled with the development of socialist art in the country, producing a lamentable situation in which artists, critics, and others lacked a solid theoretical foundation from which to assess the new art in its contemporary context. Uçi’s text aims to correct this, giving a historical introduction to the genealogy and categories of aesthetics, including the sublime and the beautiful, the tragic and the comic. Uçi also deals with issues such as art’s connection to reality and the relation between form and content. Obviously, these issues were familiar to artists active in Albania at the time (thanks to their education, frequently completed in foreign academies elsewhere in the Soviet Bloc), but Uçi’s book represents the initial effort to summarize them in the Albanian language, under one cover.
Although Uçi essentially never says anything specific about Albanian art, the theoretical framework is historically useful (and historically useful when one considers the fact that it comes after the intense cultural production of the late 1960s in Albania—essentially, Uçi’s text serves as a kind of belated attempt to grasp what was happening in socialist Albania during one of its most prolific periods. In this sense it is both woefully disappointing (in its generality) and fascinating (one again, because f its willful generality, which has little to say about what was actually going on in Albania’s relatively unique case… The final chapter is particularly interesting: it focuses on various ‘revisionist’ theories, from those of Lefebvre in France to Lukács in Hungary to Vidmar in Yugoslavia, laying the groundwork for parts of Uçi’s subsequent Labirintet e Modernizmit: Kritika e Estetikës Moderniste [Critique of Modernist Aesthetics].