Desert of Forbidden Art, The

 

Story:

How does art survive in a time of oppression? During the Soviet rule artists who stay true to their vision are executed, sent to mental hospitals or Gulags. Their plight inspires young Igor Savitsky. He pretends to buy state-approved art but instead daringly rescues 40,000 forbidden fellow artist's works and creates a museum in the desert of Uzbekistan, far from the watchful eyes of the KGB. Though a penniless artist himself, he cajoles the cash to pay for the art from the same authorities who are banning it. Savitsky amasses an eclectic mix of Russian Avant-Garde art. But his greatest discovery is an unknown school of artists who settle in Uzbekistan after the Russian revolution of 1917, encountering a unique Islamic culture, as exotic to them as Tahiti was for Gauguin. They develop a startlingly original style, fusing European modernism with centuries-old Eastern traditions.

Review:

Reading the summary for Tchavdar Georgiev and Amanda Pope’s documentary Desert of Forbidden Art, it’s hard not to think this is some educated Russian’s sad attempt try capture the power of the Robin Hood legend for their culture.  How can there be an actual story of this magnitude and it not be common knowledge? I’m sure there are a handful of scattered intellectuals out there who are well versed in Igor Savitsky’s story, but the general population remains rather ignorant of his remarkable feat.  For this reason alone, Desert of Forbidden Art is worth watching.    

I have said before that documentaries succeed because they capture the stories we otherwise miss as a collective society and this idea certainly rings true here. Savitsky is one of the few people I’ve ever heard of who cherished his relative obscurity, even using it to his advantage.  There is no equivalent for this man who turned critical rejection into motivation for keeping the works of artists he deemed more talented then himself while also nurturing the abilities of up and coming artists.  To be honest there are few so willing to put ego aside for the greater good.    

Beyond Savitsky, the stories of the artists he discovered are worth every bit of the audience’s attention as well.  Most Avant-Garde works were boycotted and their creators (at best) stifled or thrown in prison.  Their passionate dedication and subsequent willingness to part with masterful creations is remarkable.  And even in more general terms, the history of the Russian art movement under Soviet control is worth exploration as well, not to mention the current condition of the museum housing all these works.    

Frankly, Georgiev and Pope stumbled upon a wealth of information and seemingly put in the time and resources to extract as much as possible.  It’s a shame they didn’t have the opportunity to turn it into a series.  In essence, Desert of Forbidden Art is an attempt to cram several complex and fascinating stories into one 80-minute film.  It’s just cutting out too much of the discovery to have a maximum effect on its audience.  I rarely say it, but this is a film that should have taken a cue from Ken Burns and extended it into at least three or four specialized 90-minute segments.  

Asking audiences to take in the full enormity and power of their story is like asking them to wrap their arms around one of the massive redwood trees in California.  Desert of Forbidden Art is worth seeing, but the large information gaps prevent it from being an eye opening and powerful film of a nearly forgotten story. 

Reviewed by Matthew Abshire for Documentary Film Online on February 05, 2010

In Conclusion: