Bathing with Marat
By Marina Kamenev

Marat Guelman, owner of The
Guelman Gallery, one of the
oldest in Moscow, is no ordinary
collector. Not only was has he
one of the first to push Russian
artists such as Oleg Kulik and
the Blue Noses onto the world
map; he has simultaneously
managed to have a controversial
career as a political
consultant. Guelman is on the
National Liberal Party’s list of
Russia’s 100 top enemies, and
last year he was almost beaten
to death when thugs attacked him
in his gallery.
My work,
name and reputation will always
be directed toward the arts. And
my involvement in politics only
came about with the
understanding that it was a
service.
Everything in my life was
accidental. That goes for
starting the gallery as much as
it does entering political
consultancy. In 1994, my brother
finished college in Los Angeles,
came home and decided he wanted
to be a politician. I was
already an established gallery
owner, so I was in a position to
help him with my connections.
My brother moved on to other
things, but I found that the
role — that of a political
operative — suited me. I started
a foundation called Effective
Politics with Gleb Povlosovky.
At first I just worked on
graphics, but then I started to
get more seriously involved in
shaping the image of
politicians.
I did this work in part to
earn money. It was 1994, a
time when most people needed
food, not art, so I ended up
being the Guelman Gallery’s main
client.
In 1995, I played a big role
in Boris Yeltsin’s
re-election campaign. Not many
people wanted to touch Yeltsin
then. His popularity was at 2
percent, while
Gennady Zyuganov
was polling at 27 percent. So at
that time there was a real
threat that the country would
return to communism. I sent my
family away from Russia: That’s
how close the Social Democrats
were to winning.
I consider
that election one of the
most important chapters in my
life. Some people blame me,
other people congratulate me.
Yeltsin may not have been
ideal for Russia, but he was the
only option at the time.
I left politics in 2004.
Now I’m in a difficult position.
I am still close friends with
many of those in power, but I
criticize the Kremlin very
openly. Sometimes they listen,
sometimes they don’t. I can’t
say who and when, but I have
influenced those I know and try
to take make the most of my
unique position.
I think of myself as a
dissident rather than an
opponent. There is no opposition
now, anyway — it’s just Putin.
I would never have a
political party of my own,
but I disagree openly with what
is going on in Russia right now.
It’s clearly not a democracy,
but that doesn’t worry me so
much, because at the moment I
don’t think Russia needs a
democracy; it is the ripe
nationalist mood of the people
that makes me anxious.
Last year I was assaulted
in my gallery. It was done
silently and professionally. I
thought I was going to die. I
was terrified. My face looked
like mincemeat.
But fear is finite.
Perhaps it’s a remnant of
communism that in Russia, a
human life does not cost much.
We started to believe after a
while that our own lives weren’t
worth a great deal, either. I
worry about my four-year-old
daughter, though. She has a
bodyguard now.
For the nationalists,
contemporary art is the enemy.
The nationalists want everything
to be controlled, but
contemporary art is about
freedom. They want everything to
be Russian, but contemporary art
is international. We look at a
future, they look at the past.
They want to see a return to the
monarchism, or to Stalinism.
The Guelman gallery is
synonymous with the Russian
contemporary art scene, so for
them I am a natural enemy.
The Orthodox Church hates
us because, like the
nationalists, they want a return
to tradition. They want to
ignore the taboos, like AIDS and
Chechnya, while contemporary art
is about exploring taboos.
The church wants to
control everything from the
clothes you wear to whether you
have a piercing in your ear to
what you watch on television. It
would be very dangerous for
Russia to become single-minded
right now, but that’s what
exactly the church wants.
What worries me is that the
Orthodox Church is a major
financial institution — they
were the biggest importers of
tobacco into Russia during the
Yeltsin era. This is OK, but if
it gives them the power to close
exhibitions or ban certain
films, that’s when the situation
becomes dire.
As an institution, they have
never tried to close my
exhibitions, but they have
groups such as the
Union
of Orthodox Citizens, who
once tried to sue us over an
exhibit. It was very
complicated, but there is an
artist, Gor Chanal. who made
some beautiful works in a
three-part series I exhibited
called “The Sun of Truth, Good
and Beauty.” When people from
the group saw it — it was a
group of yellow-stained nudes
with their arms outstretched —
they saw some kind of
anti-religious message. They
thought Chanal was somehow
mocking Christianity. The funny
thing is, Gor is a lovely man
and a good Christian.
I don’t know what’s going
to irritate them next or why,
but they feel that choosing what
gets displayed is within their
right.
The government likes to
get involved as well: The Duma
wanted to close my most recent
exhibit in New York, Russia 2. I
think they react so much to art
because it’s the only way they
can exercise their power. The
parliament has no voice because
there is only one decision
maker: Putin. So criticizing art
keeps the Duma busy.
Russia 2 puts forward my
vision for the country. The idea
is that Putin lives in Russia 1,
where there is only religion and
patriotism. But I believe in
Russia 2, a society that values
friendship and work above all
else. In my Russia there would
be a greater fine for betraying
your friend then betraying your
country. This future is
obviously implausible.
Sometimes I am jealous of
my colleagues in New York and my
friends who run galleries in
Europe. It feels like they have
it easy, and would never be
attacked for what they choose to
display, but there are two sides
to this coin. Russia is one of
the few places left where art
can stir people and still make a
difference. The fact that it
does irritate those in power
just confirms that it is
important.