Russia, with its birch bark baskets, nesting dolls, and gilded icons, may seem unique, even strange, to Westerners. Though the Iron Curtain has long since fallen, many American collectors stay unfamiliar with her huge number of crafts and treasures.
For centuries on end, wood, so considerable in this land of dense forests, was generally fashioned into utilitarian, domestic objects. Each winter, when bitter snows blanketed the fields and winds swept the woodlands, peasants traditionally exchanged their plows and lower-saws for blocks of wood and carving knives at their firesides. For lengthy months, by the dim light of their smoky cabins, they patiently turned out wooden plates, bowls, spoons, and ladles. These with time and inclination could have painted their handicrafts.
By the mid-17th century, skilled craftsmen in Khokhloma (pronounce this by clearing your throat twice, then rhyming with “coma”), a trading put up within the Nizhny Novgorod region, alongside the mighty Volga River, had gained fame for creating a unique, ornamental wooden lacquer ware.
Perhaps khokhlomas, as khokhloma dishes’s creations themselves came to be identified, were inspired by Russia’s traditional non secular works of art.
In keeping with some sources, khokhloma’s traditional colour mixture, red, black, and gold, once held deep spiritual significance. In the Japanese Orthodox Church, they explain, vivid shades of red representing beauty, black representing grief that cleanses the soul, and gold representing heavenly light as soon as embellished sacred church vessels and icons. True, only clergy and rich the Aristocracy could afford to own such costly artworks, which featured gold-haloed saints set towards shimmering gold leaf backgrounds.
But because of their similarity, a woodsman or laborer, eyeing his first red, black, and golden khokhloma buy, should have felt as if he owned a bit of heaven. Though he seemingly ate from his plainer pieces day by day, he probably used his finest khokhlomas solely on special occasions, like christenings, marriages, and spiritual holidays—if at all.
Creating khokhloma was, and still is, an intricate, time-consuming craft passed down from generation to generation. First, artisans seasoned blocks of linden, beech, or birch, then both carved them with knives or turned them on lathes to create traditional domestic items. After drying them in kilns, they primed them with liquid clay to seal their pores. Then they fired their creations again. Next they hand rubbed them a number of times with raw linseed oil until they turned glossy. Finally, they coated this stuff with particular metallic powder, and fired them up yet again. When khokhlomas emerged from the kiln, they glistened with golden (or often silver) coloration like positive metal ware. But khokhlomas don’t include a little bit of metal. To additional gild the lily, expert artists then adorned these shiny implements with traditional red and black geometric patterns or highly stylized flowers. Then they completed them with coats of clear lacquer.
By the twentieth century, curiosity in khokhloma had waned dramatically. Russia’s 1917 October Revolution, nevertheless, heralded a national revival of the country’s people arts, together with khokhloma. Through the Nineteen Twenties and ’30s, artisans banded together into cooperative associations, adopting modern tools and strategies, like changing tin with aluminum powder and changing linseed with synthetic oil. Up to now, khokhlomas had easily cracked, crazed, chipped, or dulled by way of years of use. With today’s improvements, however, even delicate ones, as soon as deemed suitable only for decoration or festive events, are durable enough to be used year round.
In the 1960s, the Soviets, to encourage production, based two khokhloma factories, one near Khokhloma village and one other in nearby Semyonov. Between them, 1,000 artisans preserve this craft’s secret techniques and traditions for future generations, producing home items, furniture, and souvenirs. Even right now, crafting a khokhloma can take wherever from to four months, depending on the intricacy of its design and its size. Since each is hand painted, every is one in every of a kind. Because Russians hold master artists in high esteem, the Soviet Union, in 1979, issued postage stamp honoring khokhloma craftsmen and their art.
Most modern khokhlomas, to increase customer attraction, function themes drawn from nature. Luscious-looking strawberries, red and black currants, cherries, rowanberries, and raspberries, all a-swirl with grapevines are favorite choices. So are khokhlomas rich with gilded green leaves and orange berries, though they break with traditional colors. Today, khokhlomas are available a thousand sizes and styles, together with egg cups, honey pots, trinket boxes, mugs, goblets, chopping boards, and salt boxes.
As years go by, khokhloma continues to gain in popularity. Few vacationers leave Russia with out tucking a khokhloma memento or two of their suitcases. Khokhloma designs adorn t-shirts, decorate world class racecars, and even grace the tails of several British Airways Boeing 757s. Sets of popular khokhloma spoons, cheap and broadly available even within the U.S., make unusual presents or striking ornamental accents for eating areas or kitchens. So do khokhloma trays, tea units, spice units, serving dishes, and candle holders. Delicate keepsake boxes or fetching brooches make positive, comparatively low value personal gifts. All-inclusive dining units, which embrace serving bowls and platters in varying sizes, may, alternatively, command hundreds of dollars. Bigger, more intricate items, like khokhloma swan-bowls, chairs, beds, benches, and children’s table and stool units, naturally are even more costly.
Russians, true romanticists at heart, embrace khokhloma’s magnificence and history as one. Nearly each household in Russian boasts glassed cabinets stuffed with khokhloma tea cups, saucers, and serving dishes. A lot of their treasures, like brightly lacquered borsch ladles, vodka shot glasses, bread basins, diminutive bowls and spoons for having fun with jam, and caviar sets, mirror typical Russian culture. There are even khokhloma toy balalaikas, beloved folks stringed instruments, available on the market.