By Manon Raoult

Alexandra Exter was born in 1882 in Białystok, Poland (then part of the Russian Empire), to a Greek mother and a Belarusian father. She moved to Kyiv at age three and remained deeply devoted to the city throughout her life, acting as a tireless advocate of Ukrainian folk art. A cosmopolitan artist, Exter formed and belonged to influential artistic circles in Moscow, St. Petersburg, Paris and Kyiv, among others. While she never identified as belonging to any single nation, Kyiv remained an anchor for Exter, a place she mentally and physically returned to over and over again.

In the Eye of the Storm: Modernism in Ukraine, 1900-1930s

In September of 2024, I visited the landmark exhibition In the Eye of the Storm: Modernism in Ukraine, 1900-1930s at the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Highly political and timely, the exhibition provided a platform to reappraise and celebrate the voice of a silenced cultural legacy. From forgotten figures like Vadym Meller, Davyd Burliuk or Marko Epshtein to internationally acclaimed names such as Kazymyr Malevich and Alexandra Exter, the show presented a nuanced picture of the budding creativity that once flourished in the region. Touring from Cologne, to Madrid, making a stop in Brussels, Vienna and finally London – a city of exile and diaspora – the exhibition fostered a renewed dialogue at the intersection of arts and geopolitics.

For too long, the modern art of Ukraine has been overshadowed by the cultural imperialism of the so-called ‘Russian avant-garde’. In light of the Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February of 2022, In the Eye of the Storm functioned as a vital corrective – redressing entrenched institutional and intellectual biases of art historical, cultural and political relevance. Retelling a complex, overlapping and multifaceted story, curators captured the potential to challenge dominant narratives by refining the unique nature of modernism that unfolded in Ukraine. At once captivating and overly relevant, the agenda of the exhibition offered a unique picture; that of oppressed artists who once flourished and strove, only to be absorbed by imperialist cultural propaganda. It was in this resilient context that I quietly encountered Alexandra Exter anew – not only as a visual artist but as a visionary theatre designer acting as a timely cultural force. 

Reconstructing a National Aesthetic

Artists in early 20th-century Ukraine were left to live years of upheaval—world war, revolution, civil war, a brief independence (1917-1921), and the formation of Soviet Ukraine in the following year. As such, the 1920s represented a turning point for Ukrainian art, literature, and theatre. Experiencing a period of temporary freedom until the 1930s, Ukrainian modernists actively contributed to shaping a sense of national belonging by developing a distinctive national style, however varied and complex it may have been. While Ukrainian Modernism could not be characterised as a paradigmatic movement, artistic efforts across the country shared an ideal of freedom – a threefold pursuit of personal, artistic and political liberation. In the 1920s, these emancipating principles became central to the work of Ukrainian theatre practitioners. 

Alexandra Exter

At the heart of this ferment lied Alexandra Exter, whose Kyiv-based teaching studio (1918-1921) became a nucleus for radical creativity. In the city’s multicultural milieu, the studio flourished as a nest for artistic talents who came together under her guidance, sharing her revolutionary spirit. Opening its doors between 1918 and 1921, it quickly became a destination for future theatre reformers such as Anatol Petrytskyi, Isaak Rabynovych, Oleksandr Tyshler, Nisson Shyfrin, Vadym Meller and Pavel Tchelitchew. 

Photo © Billy Rose Theatre Division, The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts

As a leading artist and innovator of the modern stage, Exter was a trailblazer in the Art Déco movement and played a significant role in infusing Constructivist principles into scenic design. While she explored many media, her talent for decorative art brought her international recognition. By 1912, she became involved in an embroidery studio in Verbovka with another artist, Natalia Davydova. Her time there has been described by the art scholar Georgy Kovalenko as a determining phase in her artistic inquiry: “It was in Verbovka that she discovered the enormous world of Ukrainian folk art. A world that masterfully defined the colouristic environment of Exter’s painting, perhaps its most important aspect.”(Aleksandra Ėkster, Moscow Museum of Modern Art, 2010, p. 25). 

Blending traditional and innovative approaches, the studio sought to produce contemporary embroidery designs reminiscent of the vibrant colour, and sophisticated rhythms found in Ukrainian crafts while also adhering to the medium’s traditional techniques. Exter’s extensive study of folk art had led her to appreciate its fundamental principles, subsequently integrating them into her own practice. From 1914 onwards, she continuously dedicated herself to exploring and imbuing Ukrainian folklore tradition into her ‘Cubo-Futurist’ works, creating a unique fusion of local heritage and avant-garde experimentation. Although she was seemingly looking backwards, her gaze was certainly fixated on the present need to restore and reaffirm a sense of Ukrainian identity.

Famira Kifared

The pinnacle of Exter’s artistic experiments is to be appreciated in her set and costume designs for the experimental Moscow Kamerny (Chamber) Theatre. Her collaboration with theatre director Alexander Tairov culminated in one of the most revolutionary theatrical productions of the time, the so-called Famira Kifared (also known as Thamira Khytharedes), a 1906 play by poet and symbolist playwright Innokentij Annensky. 

A modernist reinterpretation of the myth of Apollo and Marysas, Famira Kifared transposed the classical tale to a fictionalised ancient Greece. This poignant tragedy, punctuated by satirical undertones, addressed traditional themes of destiny and divine cruelty, while stepping away from its established formulas. The story follows Famira, a zither (a sort of lyre) player of extraordinary and almost mystical musical talent, whose life revolves around the sounds of his instrument. Depicted as an innocent, naive, almost fanatical figure, Famira perceives the world through not sight or reason but via the emotional language of sound. This gift, however, draws the malice of the gods, who orchestrate his downfall. In an act of divine cruelty, the gods decide to punish him for his arrogance, and the decision is irrevocable: Famira will be plunged into silence for the rest of his life. In profound despair, he goes further and blinds himself, sealing his fate as both deaf and blind— forever alienated from the world he once inhabited. 

With Famira Kifared, Exter was to experiment beyond the canvas for the first time, venturing into the realms of form, colour and movement, in a tangible, three-dimensional space. Theatre provided the possibility to explore her thirst for synthesis and the concept of plasticity in an unprecedented way. Her set design for Famira Kifared was groundbreaking in its approach. Large piles of coloured cubes symbolised the stones, cliffs, and virginal nature, while pyramid-shaped poplars or cypresses were rendered as cones. Together, these elements formed a geometric, architectonic landscape that epitomised Exter’s vision of an abstract, vibrant and symbolic stage environment. 

The role of lighting – subdued and slightly coloured – was central in revealing and animating the stationary abstract shapes, creating a monumental Cubist-like scenery. Oliver M. Sayler’s contemporary perspective of the three-act play details how light enhanced the dramatic effect. Act I opens with the entrance of Thamira’s mother, Ariope, entering under a neutral, grey-green light with the sound of a flute; as the tension mounts, the light gradually turns red, culminating in the appearance of the chorus of Maenades, who stand in a sinuous circle. Their movements are given plasticity by the outline of their interwoven arms. The light turns yellow as Famira leaves, only to turn paler again at the beginning of Act II, which sees the entrance of the Satyrs and the hero’s challenge to the Muse of music. The third act opens with a red light, as if foreshadowing the tragic epilogue to come: Famira loses the gift of music and is deprived of his sight, having been guilty of ubrisity towards the Muse (The Russian Theatre under the Revolution, 1920, p. 219). 

Famira had two essences: the impetuous, Bacchanalian (Dionysian) and the exalted, harmonious (Apollonian). These two essences were what determined the rhythmic order of the construction. This symbolic dichotomy between centre and periphery mirrored Nietzsche’s contrast between Dionysian chaos and Apollonian order as explored in The Birth of Tragedy (1872). The central stage, occupied by the stairs, illustrated the Apollonian essence of Famira, the Prince, hero, child of the gods, zither player. Meanwhile, the sides, populated by the conical cypress trees, were the kingdom of Dionysus. Famira’s serene majesty stood in stark contrast with the wild energy of the Bacchae and Satyrs, embodying Nietzsche’s intellectual polarity through Exter’s dynamic scenic design. 

Finally, the simplified, volumetric forms, arranged in a semicircle, directed the movement of the performers, guiding their actions in alignment with the architectural flow of the stage. Exploring the architectonic potential of the stage, Exter’s set design created a seamless integration of live performers with the structured, geometric set. This intentional organisation of the stage movement served to reinforce the inner rhythm of the drama, uniting the physical performance and scenic design into a cohesive, rhythmic expression. 

Operating beyond their utilitarian function, Exter’s costume and set designs were endowed with a new, active and kinetic role, aimed at better serving the plot. She saw the actors as ‘living canvases’, a concept that aligned with Tairov’s rhythmic and synthetic quest that viewed the actors and scenery played as equal, mutually reinforcing roles. In her search for a perfect harmony between bodily movement and the unfolding of the drama, Exter set out to create these ‘tableaux vivants’ using the innovative method of body-painting. The nude bodies of the actors playing Bacchantes and Satyrs were painted in multi-coloured designs. By blurring the lines between two and three-dimensionality – painted body and three-dimensional décor rather than the contrary – Exter subverted the rules of set and costume design in ways that might have been shocking to a Western audience. 

Regarded as a ‘Gesamtkunstwerk’–a total work of art uniting multiple disciplines–the theatre became fertile ground where ideas of a new society could be tested, visualised and experienced in totality. Without a doubt, Exter conceived Famira Kafired with plenitude in mind–covering the curtain, stage portal, foyer and vestibule with her non-objective motifs. Resounding as a bold synthesis of the past and the present, the play seemed concerned with shaping and redefining the complex and multi-ethnic Ukrainian identity along inclusive lines.  

Attempts to ‘classify’ and comprehend the type of modernism that occurred in Ukraine using primarily a Western lexicon proves dubious and inadequate for it essentially relies on Eurocentric artistic and nationalist experiments. This is why the genesis of modernism in Ukraine distinguishes itself from its Western counterpart. Embedded in two revolutionary claims – that of socialism and national-liberation – the essence of Ukrainian modernism must also extricate itself from the neo-imperialism of the ‘Russian avant-garde’. While this revisionist line has attracted increasing scholarly attention, much work still needs to be done for Ukrainian modernism to fully reclaim its identity and events so as to build a cohesive cultural and national narrative.

Manon Raoult