Assembled from all over the Russian Empire and the early USSR by Ralph Sylvester Bartlett (1868–1960), the objects in this collection were all assumed to be Russian. A well-traveled son of Dartmouth, Bartlett visited multiple destinations in the Middle East, the Balkans, and Europe but admitted to having been charmed by Russia most of all. In the early 20th century, however, “Russia” was a common name for the Russian empire and all its provinces, including the modern independent nations of Ukraine, Georgia, Kazakhstan, and Azerbaijan and the various republics in Siberia. On his trips, Bartlett bought anything that fascinated him, no matter the actual value of the item. After struggling to sell his collection in the United States, he donated most of it to the Hood Museum.
The cataloguing of these objects initially reflected the longstanding tradition of attributing everything from Eastern Europe to the local hegemon. Although some works were known to be produced in Georgia, Ukraine, Poland, or Czech Republic, they were all considered “Russian” at the time. In addition, Bartlett’s donation coincided with the “White Russian Archives,” an initiative led by Ivan Chernikoff, a Russian emigre who was attempting to make Dartmouth a world-renowned repository of items donated by the former Russian nobility. Chernikoff’s friend Jacques Lissovoy enthusiastically promised to make Dartmouth a “Russian Mekka for all historical pilgrims.” The efforts of Chernikoff, Lissovoy, and Bartlett were all aimed at the preservation of the dying Russian empire, then being wiped away by the Bolshevik revolution. Their nostalgia for “imperial Russia” reflected the “orientalizing” gaze imposed by Westerners upon Eastern Europe. These men envisioned the rich and diverse cultures of many small nations as part of a “shared Russian heritage,” an idea that would later be repackaged by the Soviets and modern Russia in their attempts to appropriate and assimilate these cultures all over again.
Embroiderer once known
Polish
Embroidery
Collected 1930
Cloth, multicolored embroidery on white cotton
Gift of the Estate of Harold Goddard Rugg, Class of 1906; 157.16.18138.
Embroidered with floral motifs, this cloth displays traditionally Polish dark colors and geometric prints. A simplified red “tree of life” also speaks to its Polish origin—the tree may have emerged as a syncretic symbol of the Jewish and Christian cultures in Poland. When this embroidery was produced, being Polish meant belonging to one of the most dangerous nationalities in the Russian Empire. Tsar Alexander XI (1818–1881) designated the Poles as “threats” due to their strong national spirit and disinterest in adhering to imperial Russification policies. Thus, the embroidery characteristic of Polish and Ukrainian traditional practices was slowly appropriated by the empire and re-presented as a common Pan-Slavic tradition. In many museum collections, in turn, it is still listed as Russian.
Notice the black pattern in the background, which is an ancient Slavic symbol of eternal life. Could the embroiderer have been saluting the perseverance of the Polish nation while creating this work?
Embroiderer once known
Ukrainian
Biblical embroidery from Lavra Monastery
18th century
Cloth, linen, and thread
Gift of Ralph Sylvester Bartlett, Class of 1889; 159.2.19368
The embroidered red grapes here typically symbolized the resurrection of Jesus and his holy blood. Formerly an altar cloth or perhaps a vestment worn by Ukrainian monks, this textile fragment was purchased from Lavra, a clear indication of its Ukrainian origin. Although distinctly different from its neighboring faiths and dating back to the Kyivan Rus, the church in Ukraine has long been affected by Russian imperialism. The Russian Orthodox church, both back in the Russian empire and in the USSR, was meant to be the dominant religion, one uniting subjects of all nationalities. Independent local churches such as the Ukrainian Orthodox were therefore either banned outright or taken under the Russian umbrella. In the mid-17th century, it was made subordinate to the Tsardom of Russia, commencing the erasure of this traditional center of faith. Modern-day Ukrainian churches are still trying to break away from this imperial dominance, including an effort to dispute the proper ownership of Lavra Monastery in Kyiv, where this textile was acquired.