The best new writing and the greatest classics under one roof … in association with Forward Chess.
I hope all our readers had a great summer, whether you were battling it out at the British Championships or elsewhere, or simply taking time away from the board to recharge your batteries. I very much enjoyed playing in Leicester, and you can read more about my experiences in the September issue of Chess. Hats off to Kevin, Nigel, Adrian and everyone else involved for staging such a great event.
I have also managed to catch up on some reading, and am delighted to restart this column now that the autumn is upon us. Next month I will be reviewing Andrew Smith’s Off The Board Chess, which I spied at the bookstall at the British Championships and subsequently devoured. This month we start with a review of The Chess Art of Galina Satonina. It’s a beautiful and intriguing book, and a worthy tribute to a true artist and chess player.
Grandmaster of Avant-Garde - The Chess Art of Galina Satonina
Compiled and edited by Vladimir Kudryavtsev (Elk and Ruby)
‘Our entire life, like a chess game, consists of attacks, defences, struggle, losses and wins.’
Galina Satonina
Vladimir Kramnik wrote, ‘For me art and chess are closely related, both are forms in which the self finds beauty and expression.’ Another world champion, Alexander Alekhine remarked in similar vein, ‘I consider chess an art and accept all those responsibilities which art places upon its devotees.’ I have long thought that players at all levels share these sentiments. It must in part be the imagery of the board that draws people to the game, the beauty of the near unfathomable patterns the thirty-two chessmen and sixty-four squares can conjure up, which are destined always to be both familiar yet fresh. There is always something new to see and appreciate every time we look at the board - an intricacy previously unappreciated, a combination both irrefutable yet somehow mysterious, a perfect alloy of complexity and chaos that would mean nothing to the non-player, but form a secret world only we chess players can see. It is little wonder that chess has inspired so many actual artists to pick up a brush, and to attempt to convey on paper and canvas something of what we feel when we sit at the chess table.
In the vanguard of these creators, we must rank Galina Satonina, who, the author notes, ‘…dedicated her long and eventful life to fine art, chess and poetry.’ Vladimir Kudryavtsev’s book is a fitting tribute to the legacy and work of a remarkable woman.
Galina Satonina’s long life stretched between 1905 and 2000, making her a true witness to the twentieth century. One of ten children, she grew up in poverty, but in a household where chess was played, paint was available and a rented piano was in frequent use. A gifted student, she saw her fair share of tragedy. A brother was arrested in 1930 for ‘organizing an illegal political and philosophical circle’ and sentenced to three years in a labour camp. He would be rearrested again in 1938 as an ‘enemy of the people.’ Two other brothers died in 1935 and she lost her mother and another brother in the 1940s. She was known for her use of grey, and Kudryavtsev notes, ‘Life’s hardships brought a lot of dark shades to her artistic palette.’
Yet if this gives the sense that Satonina’s art is somehow depressing, that would be to give entirely the wrong impression. The 124 beautifully presented pictures shared within this book, all of which are in colour, are the most captivating I have ever seen. Ranging through themes such as checkmate, time-trouble, the chess pieces, and images of famous players from Morphy through to Kasparov, they are a tribute to an artist who had a way of seeing that was truly unique.
It is little wonder that Galina’s work was much admired in her lifetime and has made its way into the collections of many leading players, including Kasparov and Karpov. Tal was a particular fan and, after studying her pictures at an exhibition during the Spassky-Petrosian world title match, he sent her his photograph with the following message: ‘To the respected master of the paintbrush and chess Galina Ivanova Satonina with sincere admiration.’ This was not even the first time Galina’s work had been shown at a world championship contest. An impromptu exhibition also took place in the press centre during the Botvinnik-Smyslov match, and her work formed part of 150 exhibitions.
Despite starting to play competitively only at thirty-one, Galina became Kazan’s Women’s Champion on five occasions and the Tartar Women’s Champion an incredible thirteen times. Undoubtedly the fact that she was a true chess player has informed her art. As a Soviet era news agency put it in 1966, ‘I think that Galina Satonina’s chess prints can rightfully be called small dramas and tragedies of a big chess life.’ She was also a renowned arbiter, swimmer, hockey player and speed skater in her time; undoubtedly a life well lived.
Two of my favourite Satonina pictures are Time Trouble and Fischer In America’s grip. In the former, a white king stares in horror at a menacing red clock, with its flag on the brink of falling, perfectly conveying that feeling of paralysis we have all known, when action is desperately needed but the walls are closing in. The Fischer picture, painted in 1982, shows ‘Fischer with a chess crown on one side, and skyscrapers and the Statue of Liberty on the other, as symbols of America. Sadness, grief and melancholy in the champion’s gaze highlight his life as it seemed at the time.’ As Kurdryavtsev notes, Satonina was prophetic in foreseeing that America would ultimately reject Fischer altogether. No doubt all readers will find their own favourites within this exquisite collection.
This is a lovely coffee-table book, filled with beautiful art and the fascinating story of an artist and chess player who deserves to always be remembered. Kudryavstev has done a fine job, and this work should be of interest to any player who wants to see visual representations of what it feels like to be a chess player. It would also make a terrific Christmas or birthday present. If you haven’t previously heard of Galina Satonina, remember the name, and take the time to look at her art. It is worthy of the same immortal status as the finest of chess games.