Igor Golomshtok (1929–2017)

This is a comparative and general history of art across four totalitarian regimes- Italy, Germany, the Soviet Union, and China, with a special postscript on Iraq.

A popular characterization of totalitarian regimes is that they are dismissive of all forms of art- 'When I hear the word culture, I reach for my pistol', says Goering. But this is only partially true. These regimes do destroy all opposition, and will marginalize the avant-garde, even if the latter may try and support the new all-powerful state.

On the contrary, the totalitarian state values art, but as a means to an end. The state portrays itself as a means to an end, the final proud state of a nation, the high point of history and national unification. Art is a tool of the state, and all of the state-approved artists will try and mold the popular psychology into becoming totally subservient to the states world-view. Any outsiders, like the Modernists or Futurists, ate either converted or destroyed, possibly both. Everything is dedicated to this inflexible ideal of what the state wants. The author calls this phenomenon 'total realism'.

And what does this leave us with? Things that are very very bad, very very dull, and they all look the same. It all looks the same, whether Fascist or Communist. The same themes. The Iconic Leader. The Happy People. The Soldiers. The Farmers. The Workers. It's Incredibly kitschy on a grand scale and incredibly tedious.

Same for architecture. You get these big ugly monoliths that are supposed to impress and intimidate the people by being huge. Prora. The Great Hall of the Soviets. Mussolinis new towns. All big and brash. Although north Korea is not mentioned in this book, I think their ghastly Ryugong hotel and their big blocky Triumphal Arch all qualify.

Bizarrely fascinating stuff. Could use more color pictures, though.… (mehr)