That is how Elena Orlova, Director of the Children’s Art Gallery, felt when she returned to Volgograd
Not long ago the Volgograd Children’s Art Gallery widely celebrated its 15th anniversary. At the same time, the gallery’s founder and permanent director, Elena Vladimirovna Orlova, marked 25 years of her creative activity. After a whole series of solemn events, this fragile woman — an organiser and artist of rare talent — flew to France. There, in the cosy city of Dijon, Orlova’s solo exhibition opened. Elena Vladimirovna said that the invitation to show her work in France came from the Russian-French friendship society “Bourgogne-Erkazi.” Partnership contacts with this organisation began back in 1992. Our gallery repeatedly took part in joint internships for Volgograd and French children. For two weeks the children had a large educational and excursion programme, and young Volgograd residents had the rare opportunity to draw to their hearts’ content in French plein-air sessions.
Eight watercolors conquered Dijon
Orlova’s negotiations about the trip with a solo exhibition lasted for a year. She was still wondering whether she would manage to get away to France in the autumn, while the receiving side had already launched the advertising campaign for the forthcoming creative project. That alone showed that there was no way to retreat. The choice fell on eight large, elegant watercolors, mostly floral still lifes and landscapes painted in Lviv. “It is the city of my youth; I studied there,” Orlova explains. The French said of the landscapes that they very much reminded them of their native Dijon. No wonder Orlova felt that all the works, imbued with a single romantic spirit, looked monolithic.
Although this was her third time in Dijon, Orlova had the impression that she had arrived there for the first time. She therefore wanted madly to walk the streets alone, breathe the local air, touch the architectural masonry. The exhibition was mounted very quickly — in one day. The luxurious exhibition hall was located in the very centre of Dijon, and a visit to it was included in the cultural programme for foreign tourists. A huge number of people came to the opening: Russians and French, professional artists and simple lovers of painting, journalists. The exhibition was opened by the city’s top officials — the deputy mayor of Dijon and the president of the Bourgogne-Erkazi society. It was later decided that the exhibition would remain in France until spring and might travel from city to city.
What are Russian wives like?
Orlova notes with a smile that in France, despite her complete ignorance of the language, her new acquaintances — whom she called Russian wives — did not let her perish. Our women really are loved there, sometimes almost worshipped. The Volgograd resident met one local married couple about whom legends circulate. Natalya, a Russian woman and a teacher by education, was persuaded by her French fiancé for almost ten years to accept his proposal of marriage and, at the same time, change her place of residence. He persistently visited her, convincing his chosen one and her parents of the seriousness of his intentions. Now our former compatriot teaches Russian in evening courses for adults. Another Russian woman, Evgenia from Novosibirsk, also married a Frenchman three years ago. A former institute lecturer, whose age may be described as just over forty, devoted herself entirely to her favourite occupation — painting. Emotionally, this couple gave the impression of complete mutual understanding and absence of conflict.
After communicating with the hospitable residents of Dijon, it seemed that the French live with pleasure. Strangers smile at each other in the streets; when they unexpectedly bump into one another, they bow politely and apologise. They do everything with taste — eat, rest, visit theatres and exhibitions. However, Orlova also had the impression that the French prefer more non-objective art: fashionable installations, performances and actions.
City and village, French-style
Gisèle, vice-president of the Bourgogne-Erkazi society, organised a trip for Elena Vladimirovna to a village of the Templar order, an hour’s drive from Dijon. Orlova tried to find out from the French what, then, is the fundamental difference between city and village. She heard that a city has more rounded forms, while villages are arranged along a road — that is all. As they approached the place, they noticed small old streets; in one of the well-preserved castles there was a modern two-storey exhibition hall where local authors showed their works. It was completely packed, and later Orlova saw the same public at the opening of her exhibition. This once again confirmed the fact that the French love art. Many homes contain large and diverse collections of paintings. Some people select works in a single style, others buy what they like. Many homes contain extensive personal libraries with magnificent rare editions. The loving and reverent attitude of the French toward antiquity was striking. Even modern architectural structures are erected with an eye to supporting the spirit of old times and a unified style. Small settlements, for example, consist of very sweet, cosy two-storey private houses that express the state of soul of their owners and yet do not fall out of the general row. People are guided not by someone else’s instructions but by their own sense of measure and taste.
The small town of Beaune, the capital of winemaking, was striking. In the centre of the town stands a historic landmark — a fourteenth-century hospice now turned into a museum. Residents are proud of it and spare no expense on improvement. The little town looks unreal in its neatness, sometimes almost fairy-tale-like — one expects a musketeer or Little Red Riding Hood to step out from around the corner. Incidentally, it turned out that Russians know the famous fairy tales of Charles Perrault much better than the French do.
One of the walks around Dijon almost ended in a misunderstanding for Orlova. It grew dark quickly, and she realised that she simply did not know where to go. Moreover, she did not know how to ask a question in French or what exactly she should ask. A real Robinson Crusoe! Of course there were no particular reasons for genuine fear. Nevertheless, she had to try several routes to the goal, and one of them turned out to be correct. After returning home, Elena Orlova was asked to name what she had liked most in France. She answered: “Art, nature, architecture, people, and also gastronomy — I simply adore good cheeses.” And she added that, having landed on Volgograd soil, the first thing she did was dial her colleague’s mobile phone and, in one breath, say that she had missed home and loved ones terribly.
Nina BELYAKOVA, Gorodskie Vesti, Volgograd, No. 182 (2366), December 8, 2005
