JULESOLITSKI
41
ter. A kind of ghost artist: no one could ever see him in the flesh but
me. I was probably certifiably mad at that time ; I hardly recognize
myself.
So then : Jevel Demikov, a talented young Soviet artist whose
socialist realist canvases had attracted the attention ofJoseph Stalin.
He became Stalin's protege. Thanks to Stalin, Demikov had been
permitted to spend the year of 1950 in Paris to further refine his skills
at the Academie des Beaux Arts . We happened to meet: we became
friends. I took him around to the galleries that showed modern
art; Demikov was enthralled and seduced . His paintings turned
abstract .
Back home in Moscow he painted his pictures of tractors,
buxom maidens , stalwart workers, Red Army heroes; at night in
secret he made forbidden art . Demikov showed his abstract paint–
ings to some of his fellow artists . Soon there were underground cells
of artists making what they took to be Modern Art. Like a rampant
cancer the cells spread allover the U.S .S.R. The O .G.P.U sniffed
and scowled. They went looking for Demikov, enemy of the people .
He fled. Hidden in a barrel, he was put ashore in Brooklyn. He had
no one to help him but me. I had to help. The Soviet secret police
were on his trail.
If
they got him, Demikov said, they would kill him
on the spot. Stalin , himself, was demanding the head of Demikov. I
hid my friend in a cellar. Once a week I drove to Brooklyn and
brought him food and drink and paint and canvas. He was painting
away like a man obsessed. I could hardly believe what I saw. Here
was a breakthrough that would make the New York art scene spit.
My plan developed ; there were a couple of offshoots. One in–
volved Alfred Barr, the director of the Museum of Modern Art. I
wrote him about the plight of Demikov. Mr. Barr wrote back, saying
he was interested and asked for photographs of the work. I sent
photographs . He wrote and said he was now very interested and
would I please bring some of the paintings to his office, and the artist
himself. As things turned out, I didn't need to follow through. When
I finally did get a gallery to give me a show I wrote Mr. Barr that
Demikov had disappeared, probably murdered. A last-resort plan
called for hiring an actor , fluent in Russian. He would be inter–
viewed by
Time
and
Life
Magazine reporters. He would wear a
paper bag over his head with holes cut out for his eyes and mouth.
Through an interpreter he would tell his story. Demikov's paintings
would be reproduced . Maybe something would happen .
I didn't have to use the back-up plan .
