Construction ceramics is one of the most striking bearers of the civilisational impulse. Like architecture, it acts as a civilisation’s “dress code”. Historically, the most Russian type of construction ceramics are glazed tiles.
Russian glazed tiles: development stages
Russian culture is not ‘ceramic’ by its nature, as opposed to the Classical one. Meanwhile, glazed tiles — ceramic tiles with a rump box on the back side — are virtually the only decorative element of architectural ceramics that became common in Muscovite Russia and was further developed. This is a characteristic element of national art just like carving and painting of wooden products or popular prints. The continuous decoration of buildings in Muscovite Russia by tiles can be considered one of the distinctive features of Russian culture.
In Russia, architectural ceramics replaced natural, expensive and for the most part inaccessible finishing materials. It originated in the 10–11th centuries in Kievan Rus and passed a number of important milestones over the centuries of its existence, such as the emergence of terracotta relief ornamental plates which became a new kind of architectural decor at the end of the 15th century, acquiring some features of the Italian Renaissance; attempts in the 16th century to adjust glazing technique for their use in cathedrals at Staritsa, the Moscow’s Saint Basil’s Cathedral, some buildings in the Kremlin; and then, in the same century, the production of the first stove tiles that show how comfortable were the old Russian chambers. During the first decades of the 17th century, tiles were covered mainly with green transparent glaze, other colours such as brown or yellow were rare. The predominance of green glaze can be explained by the influence of Pskov, which was ahead of Moscow in the production of green-glazed ceramics by almost a century and a half thanks to its close ties with the western neighbours.
Across the Lithuanian border
The production of glazed tiles started expanding from the mid-17th century. Its heyday is linked to the construction of the New Jerusalem Monastery, founded in 1658. Here, the decoration was used to embody the ideological and artistic program of Patriarch Nikon. On his order, the most important monastery buildings — the Cathedral of the Resurrection and the Skete of the Patriarch — were decorated with multi-coloured tiles. The New Jerusalem Monastery has become, according to architect Nikolay Sultanov, “a hotbed of tiling trade”. The crucial role of the monastery for the development of Russian glazed tile art has long been recognized by researchers. And so is the contribution of Belarusian craftsmen who brought new technological and artistic techniques such as the secrets of producing tin enamels in four colors: white, yellow, turquoise-green and blue from across the “Polish-Lithuanian border”. The rectangular shape of the faceplate was another innovation. The widespread of opaque enamels made it possible to finally start using the clay that was common around Moscow, which helped the development of tile production in Russia.
Craftsmen from Belarus were highly involved in tile-making in monastery workshops. Most of them came from Kopys, Mstislavl and Orsha, cities famous for their tile production. The New Jerusalem Monastery also had Russians, Ukrainians, Greeks, Jews, Poles and Germans as brethren and monastery workers. The combination of ancient Russian, Eastern Christian and Western Russian traditions produced a unique result.
Foreign craftsmen were entrusted with something other than the stove tiles that they were used to. Instead, they were making large ceramic decorations of the cathedral and unprecedented multi-tiered iconostases. They managed to successfully tackle the massive new challenges thanks to the talents of the craftsman Pyotr Zaborsky and woodcarvers who created forms for tiles, and also by developing their own techniques. For example, a boat-like relief was invented, keeping the enamel from spreading around.
The symbol of the Muscovite Russia
After Nikon’s exile, all of his craftsmen, including ceramists, were transferred to Moscow. The Russian capital therefore played a decisive role in shaping the tile production in late medieval Russia. Moscow churches of that time feature vivid and varied decorations made of glazed tiles, which fit well with the traditional view of a church as a richly decorated house of God.
By the time the New Jerusalem masters were transferred to Moscow, the capital was already familiar with polychrome tiles, since some masters from the Lithuanian lands had settled there a little earlier. This is evidenced, in particular, by the churches of the Trinity in Nikitniki (1632–1654) and the Church of Saint Nicholas at Bersenevka (1656–1657). However, the scale of the New Jerusalem’s “tiled symphony” exceeded these islets of the technology that was still new at the capital.
The geography of the spread of the Moscow glazed tiles in the 17th century fits the “map” of the Russian state.
Tiles became an element that brought the country together: they were used in the exteriors and interiors of high-profile secular and religious buildings in Astrakhan, Yaroslavl, Uglich, Balakhna, Arkhangelsk, cities of the Russian North. This was already noted by the first researchers of the glazed tiles, such as Ivan Zabelin and Nikolay Sultanov.
Russian tiles have never been just copies of Western European ones. Their originality has a lot to do with the traits of national artistic consciousness: the customer and the master almost always preferred ornaments, enhancing the pictorial and decorative principle and freely combining ‘borrowed’ and home-grown elements. By selecting and processing European motifs, sustainable and specifically Russian ornamental types were created, and by looking at them it is hard to recognize their distant prototypes.
Talented Russian artisans emerged in numerous pottery quarters, primarily in Moscow. The Moscow school of decorative ceramics was established, and although it existed for only a few decades in the second half of the 17th century, it did a lot to help the Muscovites express their cultural needs.
If we were to choose a visual symbol of Moscovia that would adequately represent the Russian urban culture of the late Middle Ages, we would pick the glazed tile. It is recognizable not only because it is so vivid, it speaks the common language of the European Renaissance culture, the language that was accepted and understood.
From facades to the interior
As the new architectural trends arose the 18th century, tiled decorations disappeared from the facades. But they invaded the interiors instead, sometimes covering the walls, but more often — the surface of stoves, these key elements of home infrastructure. From the early 18th century, the Russian ceramic tiles started to look more European: smooth faceplates, austere colours, a variety of subjects, paintings instead of reliefs. Such tiles were seen by the young Peter the Great when he travelled in Europe in 1697–1698 where he got acquainted with the famous Dutch ceramics, among other things.
In the 19th century, production finally moved to factories and plants. Perhaps that century would have remained the age of factory-made tiles, had the great Russian artists and architects not turned to the ancient tradition. The unity of architecture and ceramics, so striking in the second half of the 17th century, vibrantly manifested itself at the turn of the 20th century. Opportunities for the embodiment of monumental images in ceramics sparked the creation of ceramic panels that adorned temples, hotels, railway stations, banks, city estates in the early 20th century.
Just the two names of Mikhail Vrubel and Viktor Vasnetsov show the exceptional importance of these experiments for the Russian artists and architects. They paid much greater attention to tiles compared to other architectural details. After all, this decor element conveys the very essence of late medieval Russian art with its striving for flamboyance, admiration for new technological capabilities — in a word, the atmosphere that accompanied the decline of ancient Russian culture.
However, this return to old traditions was not just a tribute to the abundant tiled decoration of the old Russian cities. The Russian traditions of construction ceramics developed further, as can be seen at Taganskaya metro station in Moscow that is decorated with majolica panels depicting heroes of the Great Patriotic War.
There is also a great interest in tile art in modern Russia, as well as growing understanding of the significance of this traditional craft for the Russian culture and history.
Svetlana Baranova,
Doctor of Historical Sciences, Ph.D. in History of Arts, RSUH