Anyone who is eager to see a major exhibit of something other than paintings should be pleasantly surprised this summer, for the New Tretyakov, one of the finest visual art venues in Moscow, is devoting its entire summer exhibition to Russian porcelain.


"Russian Porcelain: 250 Years of History" is a lavish and scholarly display which finally gives due recognition to Russian porcelain produced both under tsarist rule and in the Soviet period. It is enlightening to see an art form so often ignored assigned a significant role in Russia's cultural history.


The exhibition, the first to combine pre- and post-revolutionary porcelain, numbers over 3,000 exhibits from numerous collections, including the Historical Museum, the Tretyakov Gallery, Kuskovo Estate, the Kremlin, the Pushkin Museum and the Russian Ethnographic Museum.


The fact that the curators managed to gather together thousands of breakable, priceless objects from so many different sources is a feat worth noting. Equally commendable is the logical, interesting display.


The exhibition is commemorating the 250th anniversary of the Imperial (now Lomonosov) Porcelain Factory in St. Petersburg. Founded in 1744, the Imperial Factory was only the third porcelain factory to be built in Europe, and various documents and sketches relating to the foundation of the factory and the earliest manufacture of porcelain in Russia are on show.


There is an amusing sketch by Dmitry Vinogradov of an early hand-driven mechanism used to mix raw materials. It is hard to believe that from such humble beginnings arose the ludicrously ornate, dazzling dinner services which form the next part of the display.


Such is the opulence of the Imperial porcelain that one can understand why there was a revolution. A 1 1/2-meter-high vase with a copy of "Hunters at Rest" by the Dutch landscape artist Nicolas Berchem vies for attention alongside a table whose porcelain top shows Pavlovsky Park as it was in the early 19th century.


The most arresting thought is that these things were actually used. The Orlov dinner service proves this, for it contains two porcelain spoons with holes and slats for drainage. Rarely has functional necessity been combined with such fragility.


There are many figurines and statuettes, including a comic set of four naked women engaged in various stages of their toilette. One kneels in a bath rinsing her breasts while another cuts her toenails with a huge pair of brown shears. In their prosaic nudity, they offer the perfect antidote to the gold and fancy filigree.


Equally refreshing is the tea and coffee service decorated with caricatures of Napoleon's army, which was produced between 1813 and 1814. The designs come from caricatures by Ivan Terebenev and, somewhat surprisingly, Alexei Venetsianov, an artist more famous for the lyrical portraits of peasants which he painted from the 1820s to the 1840s.


A more serious approach was taken for the "Peoples of Russia" series produced by the Imperial Porcelain Factory between 1907 and 1917. The sculptor of the 146 figures in the series, P. P. Kamensky, used authentic ethnographic material for his designs, such as costumes from the ethnographic department of Alexander III's Russian Museum and the Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography founded by Peter the Great.


The series is a poignant reminder of the huge diversity of people living in Russia, many of whom were to suffer such extreme persecution in the 20th century.


The end of the section devoted to tsarist times includes several exhibits by notable Russian artists of the turn of the century.


There is a statuette of Valentin Serov's "Rape of Europa" and a bashful pair of lovers by Konstantin Somov. These complement our understanding of artists more famous for their paintings.


The spectacular exhibits are on occasion let down by a neglect of finer details. The exhibits are not always numbered, for example, and it is often unclear which label refers to which item in a packed display case. An even greater sin to the minds of porcelain experts is the fact that most of the objects from the Imperial period are exhibited on shelves covered with cloth, which makes it impossible to see the underside of the exhibits and the identifying marks of the relevant factories.


Fortunately much of the Soviet china is displayed on glass shelves, offering a complete view of objects of exceptionally high quality. There are plates and cups by artists ranging from Vladimir Tatlin and Nathan Altman to Kasimir Malevich and Vassily Kandinsky.


There are several works by the talented artist and stage designer Sergei Chekhonin, who served as the artistic director of the Lomonosov Porcelain Factory from 1918 to 1923 and 1924 to 1928.


One of Chekhonin's plates, bearing the slogan "The Duty of Science Is to Serve the People," is a good illustration of the extent to which porcelain was used for Soviet propaganda.


Despite the opulence, humor or novelty of the exhibits mentioned above, the most extraordinary inclusion is an erotically decorated tea service. Nestling quietly among the contemporary exhibits at the top of the ramp on the left-hand side of the hall, the service is remarkable not just for its explicit nature, but for the very fact that it is on display. Titled "Pink and Black," it hides none of the sexual antics of a bright pink woman and a virile black man.


One can only commend the broad-minded curators of the New Tretyakov. Not only have they mounted a major exhibition of one of the less recognized art forms, but they have ventured into the territory of erotica, surely a bold step for such a traditional field as the art of porcelain.





"Russian Porcelain: 250 Years of History" is on exhibit through August at the New Tretyakov Gallery. The gallery is located at 10 Krymsky Val and is open daily, except Mondays, from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. Nearest metros: Oktyabrskaya and Park Kultury.