Mamontov's Private Opera: The Search for Modernism in Russian Theater

3 Echoes of Abramtsevo

68 three Echoes of Abramtsevo The best-known aspect of Savva Mamontov’s colorful career is undoubtedly his role as a Maecenas.1 The tradition of sharing a part of one’s wealth with one’s countrymen while exalting one’s own name through charity work or art patronage had deep roots in Russia’s business circles, to which the Mamontov family belonged.2 In the late nineteenth century, art patronage was viewed as both a noble, respectable pastime and good business practice by the Moscow capitalist elite. Theater historian Konstantin Rudnitsky explains: “Moscow entrepreneurs and businessmen, while risking substantial sums of money for the sake of art and education, wished at the same time to glorify their own names. The Tretyakov gallery, the Mamontov opera company, the Shchukin collection, the Bakhrushin museum were founded.”3 A variety of well-wishers, from Vladimir Stasov4 to an anonymous admirer whose letter is preserved among Mamontov’s papers,5 compared him to his brother-in-law Pavel Tretyakov, whose charitable gesture of donating his gallery to the city of Moscow brought him widespread admiration and respect. Meanwhile, in a letter quoted in the previous chapter, Mamontov described himself to Stanislavsky as an “eccentric” in the eyes of his social circle, an accusation that was never leveled at Tretyakov.6 Indeed, contrary to Stuart Grover’s assertion that involvement with the arts helped further Mamontov’s business interests,7 Vasily Shkafer described in his memoirs a rude reprimand his mentor once received from finance minister Carl Witte for “babying some opera company” instead of paying attention to his railroads.8 Evidently, there was some echoes of abramtsevo · 69 aspect to Savva Mamontov’s artistic activities that broke the unwritten code of the socially acceptable; something that distinguished him from other patrons. In the great tradition of the Russian merchant class, Mamontov considered it his duty to provide financial support to artists. Like Shchukin, Morozov, and Tretyakov, he commissioned and bought their works; he was also in the habit of discretely supplying numerous cash loans that would never be repaid. However, his motivations differed substantially from those of other representatives of his social circle who considered supporting the arts their social, religious, or patriotic duty. Ilya Bondarenko , one of the beneficiaries of Mamontov’s patronage, pithily defined its unique quality in his memoir, writing: “[Others] collected art. Savva Ivanovich created art. That is a significant difference, and that is where his advantage lies.”9 In his assessment, Bondarenko was not thinking only of Mamontov ’s work as a sculptor, although this talent—acknowledged, developed, and promoted by as sharp a critic as Mark Antokolsky—brought him much-desired (and well-deserved) public recognition late in life (see plate 5). Nor was Bondarenko’s judgment specifically addressing Mamontov’s four decades of experiments in ceramics and majolica, for which he would be awarded gold medals at two consecutive Paris World Fairs. Mamontov was a gifted sculptor, but certainly not one of Antokolsky’s rank; and his majolica designs, while original, lacked Vrubel’s vision. If his artistic endeavors were limited to sculpting and ceramics, Mamontov ’s place in the history of the Russian arts would remain, if respectable, rather modest. What made Mamontov’s activities unique (and in his social circles, likely rather inappropriate) was his ability to create art around him; he made it happen. His associates from different artistic fields described in their letters and memoirs the unbridled energy and enthusiasm of the “magician” who could break through their writers’ block, laziness, or depression. For instance, MPO soprano Nadezhda Zabela, who would prove to be one of Mamontov’s severest critics (see chapter 5), once wrote to him: “Somehow you are surprisingly able to settle things, to make people act, and to turn them toward their true path; you were a big help to me in this way.”10 Painter Victor Vasnetsov, the creator of the Snow Maiden designs, marveled at Mamontov’s “ability to uplift and to build 70 · mamontov’s private opera creative enthusiasm” around him: “working with [Mamontov], it was easy to fly up to heavenly clouds.”11 Mamontov’s ability to inspire, described by Vasnetsov, became evident even in the early days of his friendship with the members of the Roman colony. In the 1870s, when business commitments prevented him from spending as much time in Rome (and later Paris, where some Romans would migrate) as he...