The Artist's Journey Through Self-Portraits: S.K. Goncharov's Two Decades of Visual Autobiography

In 1980, an exhibition of artist S.K. Goncharov's works was held in Sergiev Posad (then called Zagorsk), commemorating his 40th birthday and 20 years of creative activity. The exhibition bore the unusual title "Self-Portrait Over 20 Years," which evoked polarizing opinions from visitors: on one hand, indignation at the author's immodesty and provocativeness; on the other, admiration for the boldness of his artistic decisions and unconditional devotion to art.

Artist and art historian V.A. Desyatnikov wrote an article about his perspective on the author's works and the exhibition's concept as a whole, proposing to publish a catalog of the exhibition, even with black-and-white illustrations. S.K. Goncharov embraced the idea and quickly created a catalog mockup, but unfortunately, this project was never realized.

Quite recently, this forgotten project was discovered in V.A. Desyatnikov's archive, and it was decided to fulfill the author's dream without changing anything in the mockup. The publication coincides with the presentation of S.K. Goncharov's poetry collection "Light of the Izba" at the Gorlovsky Library, with a repeat of the 1980 exhibition.

Several years ago, Stanislav Goncharov and I were working at the Artists' Retreat. Our stay at Senezh was coming to an end. The review of works had already taken place, and everyone was preparing to leave. In the final days before departure, few people work; most are busy figuring out how to pack and ship their works home or saying goodbye to friends. Only in one window did a bright light burn late into the night—that was Stanislav Goncharov's studio.

As it happened, he painted his best work that time as his very last. It was a self-portrait of the artist in a boat. When I saw the work, it struck me with its allegory. Amidst pitch darkness, a man with eyes burning like hot coals stubbornly rows toward an unknown shore. Neither waves, nor wind, nor solitude concern him in the least. Amid the elements—he himself is an element. The self-portrait exuded a kind of merciless prophecy about his fate. Much time has passed, but the impression from this work has not faded from my memory.

And now I've encountered this self-portrait again at Stanislav Goncharov's exhibition. This exhibition is special. It features works of only one genre—self-portraits. As with his deeply beloved Vincent Van Gogh, for Goncharov, the self-portrait is not an occasion for self-admiration. On the contrary, the artist has probably never spoken, and perhaps will never speak, a more merciless word about anyone in life than he does about himself in his self-portraits. For this alone, Stanislav Goncharov deserves recognition—an artist of great human and civic courage, infinitely devoted to art.

Stanislav Goncharov, as I know him, has one joy in life—creativity. He gives himself wholly and unreservedly to it. To better understand S. Goncharov, and therefore his work, I should say that in Zagorsk he became closest to artists Evgeny Chubarov and Nikolai Kuts. Like Goncharov, they are fanatically (I won't shy away from this word) devoted to art and cannot imagine their lives outside of it. It is no coincidence, it seems, that these artists with completely dissimilar characters are bound by the close ties of a special kind of camaraderie rarely found among ordinary people.

In its development, Stanislav Goncharov's self-portrait has gone through several stages. The first was when the artist more often painted self-portraits, as is customary, using a mirror. In his self-portraits from 1959-1964, the artist conscientiously studied and carefully transferred the observed model to canvas. However, the early self-portraits rarely go beyond mirror-like stability. One can sense that the artist still knows little about life and has little to tell about himself that would interest others.

His meeting and creative friendship with Moscow artists G.F. Zakharov, A.D. Goncharov, N.M. Chernyshev, B.P. Chernyshev, and D.D. Zhilinsky predetermined the second stage in the creative development of S. Goncharov's self-portrait. The philosophical understanding of his own existence, and through it, the world and reality, becomes the artist's main task. His plastic thinking also underwent a noticeable evolution. His canvases give reason to assume the author's serious, thoughtful work on studying the works of national painting classics—ancient Russian icons and frescoes, as well as the best examples of contemporary art. After S. Goncharov's move to Zagorsk, the most fruitful stage in the development of his self-portrait begins. From 1970 to the present, he sets himself the task of forming an image not only based on the information provided by the mirror reflecting thought but also on what the model knows about itself.

His narrative about himself and those close to him makes the viewer think deeply. Goncharov does not provide unambiguous answers in his works. He invites us to reflect, asking us to judge him not by the number of his missteps and shortcomings, but by the measure of our conscious experience of judgment.

Twenty years of creativity is a significant period in an artist's life. Stanislav Goncharov is a multifaceted person. He works extensively and selflessly in painting, graphics, writes poetry, and tries his hand as a playwright. He works well and joyfully when he feels the support and participation of friends, when he sees that his art brings joy to people. Therefore, one wants to wish Stanislav Goncharov success in his creativity and new achievements in art.