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"All we have left is
our inner freedom. Our external freedom has been reduced substantially."
Article in the Moskovskie Novosti, No. 324(324)
20 July 2012
Mikhail Piotrovsky thinks that if he’s made a lot of enemies, that
means he has done everything right.
Twenty years ago, a decree was issued by the government of Russia to
appoint Mikhail Borisovich as director of the Hermitage. This document
was signed by Yegor Gaidar. During those decades, several political epochs
have passed, many hopes have been dashed and many idols have fallen.
Considering the fateful and rapid events of that contradictory period,
you catch you thinking that there are practically no political figures
on the horizon that haven’t faded away, lost their reputations, or, more
importantly, that have not discredited their work. Piotrovsky is one of
the few. I didn’t want to talk with the Director of the Hermitage about
eternally significant problems like the protection of the historical center
of Petersburg and the role of museums in the formation of historical consciousness
and the role of politics in the life of museums; he regularly discussed
these issues on “Moskovskie Novosti.” I wanted to talk about everything
else, what’s behind the scenes of his rich and much-discussed public operations.
That is, about his life as such.
Hermitage timeline
1992 – the opening of the Winter Palace of Peter I exhibit in the Hermitage
Theatre building
1995 – the Unknown Masterpieces exhibit
1996 – by order of Boris Yeltsin the Hermitage was placed under the stewardship
of the President of the Russian Federation; the creation of the International
Friends of the Hermitage was announced
1997 – Rembrandt’s painting, Danae" was returned to exhibition after
its restoration; a lesser planned in solar system Y4758 was given the
name “Hermitage,” the Hermitage IBM project begins
1999 – The Hermitage was given a state flag and standard of the President
of the Russian federation, an exhibition in the new museum building, the
Eastern Wing of the General Staff Building, the Greater Hermitage Building
was presented
2000 – the Hermitage rooms were opened in Somerset House (London)
2001 – a project by the Hermitage and director Alexander Sokurov, the
film “Russian Arc,” the Hermitage-Guggenheim exhibition center opened
in Las Vegas, USA
2002 – The Hermitage was given Kazimir Malevich’s Black Square
2003 – the Board of Trustees of the Hermitage is created; the Great Courtyard
of the Winter Palace and a new entrance to the Hermitage from Palace Square
opened; the Museum of Porcelain and Museum of the Guard opened (in the
General Staff Building).
2004 – a Hermitage exhibition complex opened in Amsterdam
2005 – the Hermitage-Kazan exhibition complex was created
2006 – the year of Rembrandt in the Hermitage
2007 – the Hermitage-Italy center opened in Ferrara
2008 – the restoration of the East Wing of the General Staff Building
begins
2009 – The Hermitage opened an exhibition center in the restored Amstelhof
building, Amsterdam. The Alexander Column was placed in the care of the
Hermitage, a collection of graphical art from the 21st century and 18th
century porcelain from the Galerie Popoff
2010 – a Hermitage exhibition center opened in Vyborg, the first construction
stage of the restoration of the Eastern Wing of the General Staff Building
was completed
2011 – the Hermitage’s garage turns 100, the Prado at the Hermitage Exhibit,
the M.V. Lomonosov and the Elizabethan Era exhibit, more than two and
a half million people visit the Hermitage every year
– What does home mean to you?
– Home is a place where you go in any situation, from unpleasantness
at work to any sort of hectic problem, which you can crawl back to when
you’re wounded. It is a place protected from strangers’ eyes and words,
accessible only to those close to you? It must be absolutely comfortable,
beautiful and peaceful. I like the eastern notion of a home: blank walls
on the outside with no winders, but gardens, carpets and fountains inside.
To feel comfortable, a person has to live different lives. For example,
I can live an Eastern, European, or Soviet life (smiles). Family is what
makes a home, as I see it; neither a person nor society can exist without
a family. I understand that many have their doubts about this point of
view today, however.
– Who sets up your home?
– Everyone, my family. That was how it worked out in our home.
– Who is the leader in your home?
– You’d better ask my wife (smiles).
– What was it like in your parents’ house?
– On the Armenian side way; in my mother’s family, it was the women that
created our home. On my father’s side, I can hardly remember by grandmother,
but I believe there was a strong male basis to that family.
– I should certainly think so; your grandfather was a colonel in the
Tsar’s army and your grandfather was a general!
– Yes, but my father was an absolutely peaceful person. My mother created
the family, my father was always busy with work.
– Your family is a very interesting mix, Polish and Armenian.
– I don’t just have different types of blood in my veins, I’m a combination
of different cultures. Polish from my father, Armenian from my mother,
Russian from my citizenship and Arabian, since I’m an Eastern studies
specialist by profession. That cocktail makes it possible for me to be
like a person should. He has to be diverse. I am also a hereditary Russian
noble. That is also a nationality. Russian nationality, Russianness, is
not determined by ethnic origin.
– What is Russianness?
– Russianness is love for Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. It is the broad worldview
of a person living in a country with no borders. It is when everything
is open and accessible, when you don’t give a damn about anything but
it’s still close to your heart.
– How did you raise your son and daughter?
– The best way is to raise them by your own example; this tones both
sides. When I tell my child to “do as I do,” I don’t let myself do anything
bad. But that’s in terms of worldview. In everyday life the best way to
raise children is to interact with them. We just love being together.
– What do you do it relax?
– I read. Or I watch television. Aside from the Russian channels, I watch
CNN and Al Jazeera.
– Did you choose your profession because it was a beautiful and interesting
field, or on your father’s advice?
– My father didn’t interfere in my academic life. We discussed the question
of my profession in a relaxed, open way. I wanted to become an Eastern
studies specialist; it started in my childhood, when I started to visit
Hermitage circles. I had to choose between India, Iran and the Arab world.
I entered the Eastern Studies department of Leningrad University. When
we discussed my specialty, my father made this argument: you have to study
something you can really touch, a place you have an actual chance of going
to. It must be said that Soviet circumstances didn’t offer a particularly
wide range of choices. Arab Studies was the most promising field. I had
an honors diploma with three less than perfect grades: in the History
of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, historical materialism and
dialectical materialism.
– Did you rock the boat?
– No, not at all. I just preferred a specialty where I could actually
touch the subject of my studies. In that sense I am a literalist; archeology
is tangible science (smiles). In the abstract sciences, as in historical
materialism, dialectical materialism and the history of the party, I was
weak. It was rather simpler with Arab Studies.
– What is the most important part of work for you?
– Pleasure. From being here. From my thoughts, from the fact that I am
able to maintain my own style, which is very much in line with the style
of the Hermitage and my father. It is a pleasure to do scientific work
and write. I love to read my texts, though writing them is hard. It takes
me a long time to get ready to sit down and write. But when I do sit down,
I only write down what I’ve already worked out in my head. In general,
I like the process and I must be satisfied with its result. My own inner
evaluation is what’s important. I can be demanding, impudent even.
– Are you egocentric?
– Of course.
– All the time?
– Yes. I know that the Hermitage is the best museum in the world.
– That’s a given.
– No, it’s egocentricity. I understand that God has given me very much,
very much indeed. From my ancestry to every aspect of my life, family,
science, career.
– Many people say that Piotrovsky is a snob that was born with a silver
spoon in his mouth. When you hear those rumors, that a lot has been given
to you and everything has always worked out for you, aren’t you worried
about creating more potential for envy towards you? After all, people
might be giving you the evil eye.
– Let them try (smiles). It was raised to think that you have to be aware
of what has been given to you. If you aren’t, that means you don’t have
responsibilities, or rather, obligations. You have to work with what you
were given, in large and small ways. I remember how I always knew that
if I wanted to receive a five out of five grade at university, I had to
know enough to get six out of five. Otherwise I personally would feel
uncomfortable. If I make a decision at the Hermitage, I am 101% sure about
it, so I won’t beat myself up for it later. As I said, I’m an egotist.
– Some contemporary psychologists think that when a person achieves his
goals, he can fall apart, because he has nothing to wish for. It demoralizes
him mentally.
– If a person has what they want, that doesn’t mean there is nothing
to wish for. Life doesn’t let you fully relax. Everything can fall apart
in one moment; there are many examples of this happening, or it can become
permanently ossified, which is even more boring. It is when you are trying
to prevent these extremes from happening that you get an adrenaline rush.
When you have what you wanted, you have to maintain it.
– I know that a significant amount of what satisfies you annoys a lot
of people, some of whom are quite influential. Does that worry you?
– I would say that there aren’t that many of those people, and they generally
aren’t too influential. However, it is no secret that what I do at the
Hermitage bothers people not only from without, but from within. I am
very happy that I have made a lot of enemies. That means that I’m doing
it right. My enemies are supposed to be annoyed by what I do.
– Are you really a contentious person?
– I’m not contentious, but direct. I’m ready to annoy people. By the
way, the desire to avoid conflict often leads to more structural resistance,
rather than confrontations. All my life, I have tried to reach the goal
I set for myself. Fate governs things, but there is always a choice within
the framework of what has been predetermined.
– You still have free will.
– That’s what predetermination is. You have to do what you can, and be
prepared for it not to work. And not give up.
– Could you be forced to do something against your will?
– You can force anyone to do anything. The question is how, and with
what?
– What would it take to force you to do something?
– I won’t tell you, otherwise there are certainly some people that would
want to try it. There are different strategies for situations of extreme
pressure that allow you to do… if not what you want, at least what you
think is necessary. Our intelligentsia has been following this strategy
for more than a century now. You have to weigh and balance everything
and know exactly what it is you.
– You can’t be forced to do something under any circumstances?
– Envy. In my opinion, envy is the worst quality there is; it destroys
things from within and without.
– What would have to happen to make you leave your position?
– That’s something you’ll never see! Well, to answer serious, I would
leave if I were doing something wrong and unable to do the right things
because of internal or external causes. This relates to your question
about what is most important to me about my work; I will leave my job
if I stop getting pleasure from it. But I personally will judge whether
my actions are correct or not. That is if we’re talking about is leaving
of my own free will. I could be fired at any moment, I have a contract
with the Ministry of Culture.
– When was your job harder, twenty years ago, or now?
– Twenty years ago, of course. When I came to the Hermitage, I saw such
a crisis that when I hear people talking about a crisis now, even a crisis
in the museum world, it just make me smile. The political system was destroyed,
there simply wasn’t an economy, the system of values was unseated, people
lost the guiding principles in their lives. The euphoria had already passed
and the reaction had begun. Both literally and metaphorically. In the
early 1990s, what was happening was almost the same as the events of 1917–1918,
despite all the differences in starting point. No one had time for culture,
communication well apart, people didn’t go to museums, there was no money…
Then, as after the Revolution, people started saying that perhaps we should
sell something from the Hermitage, after all, the city and the country
are on the brink of starvation. They weren’t allowed to do it, thank God.
The psychological collapse twenty years ago cannot be compared with what
is happening now. Freedom is a test that not everyone can survive.
-What is freedom?
- I don’t know. Perhaps it is certainty that your thoughts are the most
correct. In the first ten years of those twenty, there was almost complete
freedom. But there was no money to go with that freedom. At all. But at
the same time, you could do whatever you wanted. And people did. Then
everything began to change. All we have left is our inner freedom. Our
external freedom has been reduced substantially.
– When there is more inner freedom than outer freedom, people get decompression
sickness.
– Nothing of the sort. Despite the lack of external freedom, there is
much more inner freedom. In the Soviet times intellectuals had much more
of that inner freedom that they do today.
– Why?
– Because it was yours. Now everything is melting and draining away.
There is no sense of the boundary between freedom and unfreedom, there
is no airlock between them. It is very easy to cross this invisible line.
This is what happens to people who loudly call themselves liberals.
– Whom do you consider liberals?
– Those who enjoy more freedom than they have, or try to?
– Is that good?
– Yes, provided it isn’t at the expense of someone else’s freedom.
– But you are not a liberal.
– No, of course not.
– If somebody from Old Square, or a square that isn’t quite as old, for
that matter, were to call you, and demand that you fire an employee who
did something they didn’t like, would you fire them?
– What do you expect me to say? If I get that call, I’ll decide. Do you
understand how provocative that question is?
– Naturally.
– Not matter how I answer, they will be people who want to try it. To
provoke me. That will lead to me getting a lot more calls.
– Well, you just said more than you meant to. That means they do call
you. But after your employee spoke on the radio and they call you from
Smolny and asked you rein him in, you answered that that isn’t your job.
– I told them the truth, it really isn’t. That isn’t the most important
square, so I could joke my way out of it. Sometimes that isn’t possible.
In that case you have to find another way to protect the employee. I think
I can handle that.
– You were an authorized representative of Vladimir Putin during the
presidential election. At the same time, you categorically rejecting holding
a demonstration in favor of him in Palace Square, and you spent a long
time persuading the initiators to cancel this idea. But you did persuade
them. How do these things go together?
– It would be wrong to make a hero out of me. It isn’t just them who
call me from those squares of yours, I call them too. I called, I explained
that there can’t be any demonstrations in Palace Square. Not any! If you
allow Putin’s supporters to hold a demonstration there today, then tomorrow
moral right will dictate that you have to host a demonstration for someone
else there. As soon as it’s permissible for one person to do it, it’s
permissible for others.
– Do you really use that argument, the definition of “moral right” in
those conversations? I don’t believe that it would apply there.
– No, of course not. I used other definitions (smiles). I’m talking about
myself, about my own motivations. By the way, if I wasn’t an authorized
representative, making that case would have been harder.
– Do you serve the state or the country?
– The country, naturally. Sometimes the state represents the country,
during wartime, for example.
– What is the most important thing you have done over those 20 years?
– My Hermitage colleagues and I have preserved the honor of the Museum.
Julia Kantor
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