THE GREAT SEASCAPE ARTIST AND THE RUSSIAN IMPERIAL FAMILY

A favourite of three Russian rulers, Aivazovsky’s development as an artist was encouraged with royal patronage from an early age. Closely involved with members of the Romanov dynasty for more than 60 years, he both travelled with them on foreign journeys, and entertained them at his home in Crimea.

“His Majesty was always gracious and charming towards me, which was so characteristic of the way he treated artists of all kinds.”[1] All his life Ivan Aivazovsky enjoyed the patronage of the Russian Emperors Nicholas I, Alexander II and Alexander III, as well as their family members. The Imperial family's favour nourished the young artist's natural talent, provided him with opportunities to take sea voyages to distant shores, to see what his beloved seas looked like from the deck of a ship, and to enrich his imagination through visiting foreign lands. Members of the Imperial family purchased many of Aivazovsky's paintings; today these works are in the collections of Russia's major museums.

Aivazovsky was a grammar school student in Simferopol when Countess Natalya Naryshkina, an intelligent and scholarly local aristocrat, saw his drawings. Naryshkina, who was friendly with the nobility of St. Petersburg and took an interest in the arts, approached the architect Salvatore Tonci, who in turn showed the young artist's work to Alexei Olenin, president of the Imperial Academy of Arts. Soon enough Prince Pyotr Volkonsky, who at the time served as a Minister of the Imperial Court, showed Aivazovsky's drawings to Nicholas I. “The most exalted patron of Russian arts praised the young artist's first efforts most kindly,”[2] and on August 23 1833 Aivazovsky was admitted to professor Maxim Vorobyov's class at the Academy.

Two years later, when the French maritime artist Phillippe Tanneur came to St. Petersburg, the Russian Emperor instructed Olenin to choose one of his most talented students to study seascape-painting under the celebrated French master; Olenin picked Aivazovsky. Tanneur, however, did not find it fitting to work on refining the young artist's technique; instead, he charged his student with preparing paints and copying paintings with views of St. Petersburg. Olenin, meanwhile, was convinced that Aivazovsky was destined for great success, and suggested that he paint a seascape for the forthcoming autumn exhibition. Hardworking and responsible as ever, Aivazovsky produced a painting which he titled ‘A Study of Sea Air”, which won him the highest Silver Medal.

Soon the news about the young artist's success reached Tanneur, who thought that for a student to submit a study to an exhibition without his teacher's knowledge amounted to inexcusable disobedience. Tanneur voiced his grievance to the Emperor; Nicholas I, who took insubordination very seriously, ordered Volkonsky to have Aivazovsky's painting removed from the exhibition. The unfortunate incident became the talk of the time; the young artist began to avoid his friends and spent most of his time in his room. However, he still attended his classes, studied diligently, and worked on perfecting his painting technique. In the meanwhile, a series of new complaints regarding Tanneur's arrogant and insolent behaviour in aristocratic society reached the Russian Emperor, and in 1836 Nicholas I ordered his French guest to leave the country.

By then, many influential noblemen, some of them close to the throne, had taken pity on Aivazovsky; it was thanks to the efforts of Alexander Sauerweid, professor at the Academy of Arts, that Nicholas I eventually forgave the artist. Sauerweid, a renowned master of military painting, gave drawing lessons to the Grand Dukes and Duchesses, at which the Tsar himself would make an occasional appearance. On behalf of the Academy's professors, Sauerweid vouched for Aivazovsky's good character: after all, as a regular student who had been instructed by the Academy's president to submit a painting to an exhibition, the young man had not dared to disobey. Nicholas I demanded to see the ill-fated study; the very next day it was brought to the Winter Palace and received the Tsar's approval.

Shortly after this, at the recommendation of Sauerweid and Counter (Rear) Admiral Fyodor Litke, the Emperor requested Aivazovsky to accompany his son Konstantin on his first naval voyage in the Gulf of Finland in the summer of 1836. On July 2, the nine-year-old Grand Duke wrote in his diary: “Father has sent me off to sea, today was the day of our departure... The entire fleet of 26 ships weighed anchor, with the wind completely against us.”[3]

For the two young men this voyage marked the beginning of a long and close friendship. It is quite likely that the Grand Duke admired Aivazovsky's work - he included his friend's sepia studies, watercolours and drawings in the ceremonial albums alongside the works of other renowned Russian and European artists. In keeping with the Russian royal family's tradition, on the eve of 1861 Tsar Alexander II, who knew of Konstantin's interest in Aivazovsky's art, commissioned a set of china decorated with reproductions of Aivazovsky's early paintings as a New Year gift for his brother.[4]

The voyage that the Grand Duke and the artist undertook together lasted until the autumn and proved quite educational: Litke taught them astronomy and navigation, as well as ship design and exploitation. Aivazovsky gave the Grand Duke painting lessons; as for his own work, he tried to sketch or paint something new every day and showed seven new seascapes that he had finished during the voyage at the Academy's Autumn Exhibition.[5] The Russian Emperor purchased them all for the sum of 3,000 rubles.

The Russian Navy would later play a crucial role in Aivazovsky's life. In 1844 “His Majesty the Emperor” signed an order for ‘Academician Aivazovsky to be assigned to his Majesty's Navy Headquarters as a painter; with that, Aivazovsky has the right to wear the uniform of the Ministry of the Navy and his rank is considered honorary.”[6] Even as a 20-year-old, the works of Aivazovsky, then still a student at the Academy, were as masterful and accomplished as those of his professors. In September 1837 his painting “Calm Sea” (current location unknown) received the Gold Medal of the 1st Degree, which earned Aivazovsky the right to work abroad. The Academy's council made the decision to let the young painter graduate two years ahead of schedule and work on his own. The council took into consideration Aivazovsky's wish to visit his birthplace, and decided to task him with “painting Russian seascapes, particularly in Russia's southern provinces, under the Academy's special patronage”.[7] Consequently, in spring 1838 Aivazovsky received the opportunity to return to “Crimea to paint from nature, for the duration of one year from the current date, i.e. until the 1st of March 1839, when he, Aivazovsky, is to present his new works for His Majesty the Emperor's review.”[8] Aivazovsky painted a great deal during his time in southern Crimea; the list of his works includes “Yalta” (1838, Aivazovsky Picture Gallery, Feodosia), “Seashore” (1840, Tretyakov Gallery), and many others.

Aivazovsky would depart from Crimea for his first trip to Europe. His paintings earned him the admiration of both the general public and famous artists in Rome, Venice, Naples, Paris, London and Amsterdam. When in summer 1844 the artist returned to St. Petersburg after four years abroad, Nicholas I granted him an audience and awarded him a major commission - Aivazovsky was to paint views of Russia's ports in Kronstadt, St. Petersburg, Peterhoff, Reval (now Tallinn), Sveaborg (then also known as Viapori, and now as Suomenlinna), and Gangut (now Hanko).[9] Aivazovsky was more than enthusiastic about this commission and over the next few months he would paint several works that were subsequently acquired by the Emperor.

Nicholas I was always exceptionally generous when it came to purchasing Aivazovsky's paintings. “Once His Majesty, as he was inspecting a painting I had finished not long before that, pointed out that the waves and splashes from cannon balls falling into the water were not quite realistic, so His Majesty wished me to make some changes to the painting in order to correct that. I took the liberty to say that rather than doing it I would prefer to paint a new canvas. Prince Pyotr Volkonsky, who dedicated himself to keeping court expenses in check, quickly forewarned me that I would be obliged to re-paint my seascape without payment. Naturally, I would not have raised the matter of being paid for the second version, even without prior notification; however, the late Emperor Nicholas Pavlovich, with the regal generosity that was so typical of him, ordered that I receive the same payment for the second painting as I had for the original one.”[10]

The sea was Aivazovsky's favourite and constant subject. By 1845 he was already familiar with the Baltic, Black and Mediterranean seas, so he was happy to visit the Turkish shore, Asia Minor and the Greek islands when he accompanied Grand Duke Konstantin on another voyage. They visited Constantinople, Chios, Patmos, Samos, Mytilene, Rhodes and Smyrna, as well as the ruins of ancient Troy, Sinop and many other locations. It was a momentous time in the life of the 18-year-old Grand Duke - having served as a brigantine Captain, he was getting ready to take charge of a large ship. In turn, Aivazovsky painted a huge number of studies and enriched his artistic imagination with a multitude of new experiences. These studies would provide the basis for numerous paintings in future years.

After his return home, Aivazovsky wrote: “The voyage I took with his Imperial Highness Grand Duke Konstantin was exceptionally pleasant and stimulating; I was able to paint studies for future paintings everywhere we went, especially in Constantinople, which I found absolutely delightful. I do not think there is anything in this world more majestic than this city - over there, one forgets both Naples and Venice.”[11] The Grand Duke, who was a decent draughtsman himself, showed interest in Aivazovsky's work throughout the voyage. One note from his diary is typical: “On the way back Aivaz-Effendi[12] painted studies of today's events, with the hope of turning them into real drawings or prints. We had lunch at the usual time and later a whole bunch of us went riding.”[13]

The Grand Duke loved nature and enjoyed drawing; as a result, many pages of his diary are filled with descriptions of the natural beauty that surrounded the young men during their travels: “Having left [Sarah-Eri], we went straight down to the famed Rose Valley [Gyulo-Dereh]. This place is nothing short of heaven... Its diverse landscape is spectacularly beautiful. The mountains are completely bare, of the harshest aspect, while the valley is covered with remarkably lush [vegetation]. A creek runs through the middle of the valley, with a Turkish coffee house nestled among huge trees; incredibly picturesque, they [Turkish coffee houses] are always filled with groups of Turks smoking, drinking coffee and enjoying the pleasures of leisure, or dolce far niente.[14] Aivazovsky always finds them delightful.”[15] In the 1870s the Sultan commissioned the artist to create a number of paintings for his Dolmabahqe Palace; to this day Aivazovsky's canvases adorn the walls of the ceremonial halls there.

The artist would later say of himself: “It was entirely the patronage of the Russian Tsar that gave him the means to explore the most varied seas in two parts of the world... to see the azure waters and skies of Naples, the Adriatic shores, to visit Rome and Byzantium (these two cradles of ancient art), the Levant, the Archipelago islands, and the cliffs at Mount Athos, all those places that are an inextricable part of Christianity's early history.”[16]

As soon as the voyage was over, Aivazovsky returned to Feodosia. He always longed to be there, as he wrote: “I happily spend my winters in St. Petersburg; I work, I have a good time, I share my leisure with my good friends, but as soon as it begins to feel like spring, I feel homesick - I yearn to be in Crimea, by the Black Sea. It is my soul's desire; if you will, it is what my very being demands. Many a time His Majesty the late Emperor would kindly warn me against it. Once he said, ‘You will get lazy there, doing nothing.' In response, I assured him that I would continue working hard while I was in the South; the Emperor answered, smiling, ‘Then again, you can live where you like, just keep painting, don't be lazy. You are like that wolf in the proverb: no matter how much you feed him, he still runs for the forest.'”[17]

There was another amusing episode also connected to Nicholas I. The Emperor decided to visit the artist in his studio to see the paintings that he had commissioned; at the time, Aivazovsky was working on his “The View of Mount Athos and the Archipelago Islands”. The artist wanted to paint a carefree couple watching the sunset from the shore. His model for the Greek girl was Madame Duthiers, a good acquaintance, who was visiting St. Petersburg at the time; she was happy to sit for him wearing an “Oriental costume”, in a casual pose and with her hair down. Completely absorbed in his work, Aivazovsky, in his artist's tunic and holding the palette, was slow to hear the Emperor's voice in the hallway; he hurried to greet his exalted guest, but it was too late, the Tsar had already entered the studio. Madame Duthiers, embarrassed to be seen in her costume and entangled in the shawl that had fallen from her, curtseyed deeply. Aivazovsky was quick to explain that “the costume was necessary for the painting.” “Of course, quite essential,” answered the Emperor with a smile as he walked back to the painting. In a low voice, he spoke again, “Madame is quite attractive. for the painting, of course.” Having taken leave of the French lady, Nicholas went into the next room to say goodbye to Aivazovsky; laughing, he reminded the artist about his commission: “Take care, and don't forget the sea!”[18]

The royal family's patronage and Nicholas I's friendly interest were especially valuable to Aivazovsky, who had grown up in a family that was not wealthy. In an interview with the “Russkaya Starina” (Old Times in Russia) historical journal, he said: “The Emperor's favour and the gracious interest that he took in me played an enormous role in my life, and will forever remain with me. When I painted scenes of naval battles, his royal order allowed me to use the Admiralty's many resources, such as technical drawings of naval vessels, their rigging, weapons, etc. Once, to give me a chance to observe a cannon ball ricocheting off the water surface, His Majesty ordered that several cannon shots were fired at Kronstadt for my benefit. To make sure that I could have a close look at the movement of military ships in battle, the Emperor, in his kindness, invited me to watch naval exercises in the Gulf of Finland. I will never forget the way the sun reflected in the thick clouds of gunpowder smoke, some rapidly whirling up in the air, some hanging low over the gulf waters.”[19] The painter Kirill Lemokh, a member of the Imperial Academy of Arts and (in his youth) a student at Aivazovsky's studio, described the artist's relationship with Nicholas I: “When the Tsar took a paddle steamer out to sea, he took Aivazovsky with him. Standing on one paddle wheel cover, the Tsar called out to Aivazovsky, who was standing on the other one, ‘Aivazovsky! I rule on land, and you rule at sea!'”[20]

In 1851 Nicholas I invited Aivazovsky to accompany him on the steamer Vladimir during its voyage to Sevastopol and attend naval exercises there. The Emperor often conversed with the artist most informally, pointing to the light patterns over the water, or a picturesque cluster of ships. Aivazovsky would write about this time: “I feasted my eyes on the ships of the Black Sea Fleet - like a family of mighty warrior heroes of Russian folk epics, at the service of His Majesty, a strikingly handsome man in his prime.”[21] Attending such naval exercises prepared Aivazovsky for his work on the paintings depicting episodes of the Crimean War.

It was not only Nicholas I who had such a trusting and close friendship with Aivazovsky - the entire Imperial family admired the artist and his work. More than once Empress Alexandra Fyodorovna brought her children to the artist's home in Feodosia and his country estate in Crimea. In 1854 the Grand Dukes Nicholas and Michael, on their way from Sevastopol to St. Petersburg, took several of Aivazovsky's drawings of various Crimean War episodes with them to be presented to the Emperor. The artist was quite anxious to know if the royal family liked his work; he wrote to Alexei Filosofov, tutor to the Emperor's younger sons and General-Adjutant: “His Imperial Highness Grand Duke Nicholas graciously requested that I produce a drawing of Sevastopol during bombardment. I painted a small picture from the drawing I had done from nature on October 24, and I am honoured to send both to you, with my humble request to let me know if Their Imperial Highnesses like them at all; in such case, I will be more than happy to paint an elaborate version...”[22] When the Grand Dukes came back, they conveyed to Aivazovsky their father's thanks and the message: “I will purchase anything that Aivazovsky paints.”[23]

After the death of Nicholas I, his son Alexander II ascended the Russian throne. Aivazovsky had known him from the voyage of 1851, and the new Emperor, just like his late father, showed favour to the artist. Along with other artists, in the 1860s Aivazovsky was retained to decorate the walls of the Livadia Palace, the Imperial family's home in the Crimea. ‘Aivazovsky, who visited Livadia often, thought of painting the view of the Crimean Peninsula a vol doiseau, with several steam boats in the bay, on the wall of the Tsar's balcony by the main entrance. This wall painting showed mountain ridges, slopes, forests, harbours and populated areas; the panoramic view and the playful splashing of the Black Sea was so captivating that everyone who saw it would be caught there, as if mesmerized, for hours on end...”[24] Additionally, Aivazovsky painted frescoes in the Grand Palace; he also accompanied the Empress Maria Alexandrovna on her voyage to Alushta in 1861, and a few days after their return he presented her with a painting depicting a scene from the trip. Aivazovsky wrote: “Both His Majesty and the Empress were exceedingly kind to me: they invited me to dinner, gave me a precious gift, and commissioned several paintings.”[25] Archival documents confirm that the “precious gift” was “a diamond ring with Her Majesty's initials”.[26]

At the request of the Empress, in autumn 1867 Aivazovsky accompanied Maria and Sergei, two of her younger children, on their voyage from Crimea to Constantinople. Since the artist had travelled to Turkey before, he accompanied the Grand Duke and Duchess on their excursions and suggested the best sites to visit both in the city and its environs. “Upon their return from Constantinople and with Her Majesty's approval, the Grand Duke and Duchess honoured the artist by visiting him at his home in Feodosia and his garden in the Sudak Valley.”[27] For the arrival of Aivazovsky's eminent guests, the town was decorated with flags, and a triumphal arch of foliage was constructed in front of the artist's house. Aivazovsky personally greeted his guests' steamer in his launch, which was followed by four boats whose oarsmen threw rose petals into the water. After the formal reception and dinner, the party went to the improvised waterside theatre, where local children staged a short ballet performance. The next day, the Grand Duke and Duchess went to Sudak, where Aivazovsky offered them breakfast served on an Oriental carpet in the tradition of the Crimean Tatars; as the party boarded the steamer to return to Yalta, everyone was astonished to see Aivazovsky's surprise gift, a new painting on the wall of the cabin: the artist had finished this view of the Sudak harbour during a celebration ahead of the trip. When her children came back to Yalta, “in her kindness, the Empress sent Aivazovsky a telegram expressing Her Majesty's gratitude for the delightful experiences he had arranged for Their Highnesses.”[28]

Both Alexander II and his wife appeared in Aivazovsky's paintings. In 1881 he painted “Alexander II Crosses the Danube”, with the Emperor depicted sitting on board a large cutter, with his sons and several generals in attendance, as well as the Cossacks of His Majesty's guard holding the Imperial Flag. An eagle symbolizing Russia's power and glory is soaring over the boat.

The Russian Emperors' appreciation of Aivazovsky's work earned him numerous awards from the state. Thus, throughout his long career the artist received the Orders of Saint Anna, 3rd, 2nd and 1st class (1844, 1851, 1881); the Orders of Saint Vladimir, 3rd and 2nd class (1865 and 1887); the Order of Saint Alexander Nevsky (1897), and other distinctions. In 1864 Alexander II granted Aivazovsky the status of hereditary nobility - according to the Emperor's edict, “in recognition of Professor Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky's service and out of Our warm regard and generosity”. [29]

Alexander III, who ascended the Russian throne in 1881, would also become an admirer of Aivazovsky's art. In 1888 the artist arranged for a water supply system to be drawn from his estate in Subash to Feodosia, and a fountain was built to celebrate the occasion. Aivazovsky wrote, “We approached the Minister of the Interior, asking for His Majesty's permission to call the fountain
by His Majesty's name, but [Vyacheslav] Plehve sent back a telegram telling us that the Emperor ordered that we use my name instead.”[30] Naturally, Aivazovsky was flattered by the Imperial family's continuous favour and cherished the attention; sometimes it even opened up possibilities to accomplish things that he considered important, most notably in connection to his beloved Feodosia - expanding the port, bringing the railway to the city, and securing funds to build Armenian schools.

When in 1894 Alexander III died at Livadia, Aivazovsky painted an allegorical and even somewhat mystical scene: a grieving female figure dressed in mourning black (likely representing the Empress Maria Fyodorovna) is leaning over a tomb; in the background, the outline of the Peter and Paul Fortress and the late Emperor's figure are visible among thick clouds that look like rising smoke. The artist never exhibited this work - it would seem that it was too personal for that: extremely rare in Aivazovsky's oeuvre, the subject matter and genre seem to express his personal heartache over the Emperor's death. It may also be that the artist realized that the Imperial family's long and generous support of his work was coming to an end. Indeed, the new Tsar, Nicholas II, did not show the same kind of interest or attention to Aivazovsky as the great master of seascape painting had enjoyed for the previous 60 years, beginning from 1833. The times were changing, and even Russia's rulers were developing a different taste in art.

The strong interest that the Russian Imperial family showed in Aivazovsky's work was instrumental in his striking success. The artist was still a student when Nicholas I launched his career by sending him on the sea voyage with his son, Grand Duke Konstantin. Coming to know the Grand Duke, someone who could appreciate the beauty of the sea and loved Crimea, made a strong impact on the artist's life. In his turn, Aivazovsky, a favourite of three Emperors, through his art brought true beauty into the formal and rigid lives of his exalted benefactors.

1. ‘Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky and His 42 Years in Art. 1836-1878’. In “Russkaya Starina” (Old Times in Russia). 1878. V 22. Issues 5-8. P. 444. Hereinafter - Russkaya Starina.
2. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V. 21. Issues 1-4. P. 657.
3. The Diary of Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolayevich. 1836// Russian State Archive. Inventory 722, file 74, folio 1.
4. Nikolaeva, MV ‘Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolayevich and Aivazovsky’ // in “Lectures on the 150th Anniversary of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich”. Research Conference Catalogue, October 15-16 2008. St. Petersburg. 2008.
5. Wagner L., Grigorovich N. “Aivazovsky”. Moscow. 1970. Pp. 47-50.
6. Memorandum by the Commander of the Navy Headquarters appointing I.K. Aivazovsky a painter for the Ministry of the Russian Navy. September 16 1844. State Russian Archives of the Russian Navy. F. 410. Inv. 1. Item 1608. P. 2.
7. Ibid., P. 24.
8. P.M. Volkonsky’s memorandum to the Imperial Academy of Arts regarding commissioning paintings from I.K. Aivazovsky. July 1 1884 // Russian State Historical Archive. F. 789. Inv. 1, part II. Item 2870. P. 1.
9. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V. 22. Issues 5-8. P. 444.
10. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V 22. Issues 5-8. P. 444.
11. Aivazovsky’s letter to Zubov. March 16 1846. Russian State Historical Archive. F. 942. Inv. 1. Item 12. P. 3.
12. “Effendi” is a Turkish title of nobility, meaning “lord” or “master”. Also used as a polite form of address.
13. Diary of the Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolayevich. 1843-1845. State Archive of the Russian Federation. F. 722. Item 81. Back of p. 139.
14. Dolce far niente - Italian for “pleasant idleness, the sweetness of doing nothing”.
15. Ibid., front and back of p. 140.
16. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V 23. Issues 9-12. P. 58.
17. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V 22. Issues 5-8. P. 443.
18. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V. 23. Issues 9-12. Pp. 65-66.
19. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V 22. Issues 5-8. P. 444.
20. Minchenkov, YD. “Remembering the Peredvizhniki”. Leningrad. 1980. P. 98.
21. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V 23. Issues 9-12. P. 70.
22. Letter from I.K. Aivazovsky to A.I. Filosofov. December 2 1854. Russian State Historical Archive. F. 1075. Inv. 1. Item 129. P. 2.
23. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V. 23. Issues 9-12. P. 71.
24. Melekha, E. “The Imperial Family in the Crimea”. Russkaya Starina. 1916. V 157. Issues 7-9. P. 429.
25. Letter from I.K. Aivazovsky to A.P. Khalibov. October 17 1861. Quoted from “I.K. Aivazovsky. Documents and Other Sources”. Yerevan. 1967. P. 134.
26. Academy of Art Board’s memorandum to the Ministry of the Imperial Court. January 16 1865. Russian State Historical Archive. F. 789. Inv. 14. Item 1A. P. 7-11.
27. Biography of the Grand Duke Sergei Alexandrovich. Volume 3 (1866-1867). Undated. Russian State Archive. F. 648. Item 18. Front and back of p. 173.
28. Russkaya Starina. 1878. V. 23. Issues 9-12. P. 285.
29. Emperor Alexander II’s edict bestowing honours on I.K. Aivazovsky. December 4 1864. Department of Manuscripts, Tretyakov Gallery. F. 29. Item 56. Back of p. 2.
30. Letter from I.K. Aivazovsky to G.A. Ezov. September 14 1888. Institute of Oriental Studies of the Russian Academy of Sciences. F. 58. D. 58. P. 138.