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Bacon in Moscow
The hilarious account of one man's quest to mount a Francis Bacon exhibition in the Soviet Union.
'A rollicking cultural adventure... fascinating and true' Grayson Perry
This funny and personal memoir is the account of an audacious attempt by James Birch, a young British curator, to mount the ground-breaking retrospective of Francis Bacon's work at the newly refurbished Central House of Artists, Moscow in 1988.
Side-lined by the British establishment, Birch found himself at the heart of a honey-trap and the focus for a picaresque cast of Soviet officials, attachés and politicians under the forbidding eye of the KGB as he attempted to bring an unseen western cultural icon to Russia during the time of 'Glasnost', just before the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Bacon in Moscow is the story of the evolution of an exhibition that was at the artistic and political heart of a sea of change that culminated with the fall of the USSR.
'A rollicking cultural adventure before the fall of the Berlin Wall and the meteoric rise of contemporary art in the nineties' Grayson Perry
'A rollicking cultural adventure... fascinating and true' Grayson Perry
This funny and personal memoir is the account of an audacious attempt by James Birch, a young British curator, to mount the ground-breaking retrospective of Francis Bacon's work at the newly refurbished Central House of Artists, Moscow in 1988.
Side-lined by the British establishment, Birch found himself at the heart of a honey-trap and the focus for a picaresque cast of Soviet officials, attachés and politicians under the forbidding eye of the KGB as he attempted to bring an unseen western cultural icon to Russia during the time of 'Glasnost', just before the fall of the Berlin Wall.
Bacon in Moscow is the story of the evolution of an exhibition that was at the artistic and political heart of a sea of change that culminated with the fall of the USSR.
'A rollicking cultural adventure before the fall of the Berlin Wall and the meteoric rise of contemporary art in the nineties' Grayson Perry
- GenresNonfictionArtRussia
208 pages, Hardcover
Published January 27, 2022
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
September 2, 2023
i didn’t quite know what to expect going into this book as it’s far less about the actual art & far more about all the technicalities that james birch faced trying to set up his Bacon exhibition inside 80’s USSR russia. at base level it maybe doesn’t sound that exciting but it’s ended up being one of my favourite reads! so fascinating to see all of the history through the eyes of an art dealer, a niche perspective! such an interesting & personal story greatly helped by an archive of pictures, notes & telegrams that help visualise not only the people james met but also the atmosphere & experiences of his time in moscow
July 3, 2023
One of the great turning points in history through the eyes of an art dealer! Fascinating stuff!
February 4, 2024
Delightful book that serves many purposes:an evocation of the Soho art world of the 70s and 80s
without being only about parties and promiscuity and champagne ( though there’s also that), a moving remembrance of the inherent contradictions of hope and control in perestroika and glasnost, and a biography of Francis Bacon that captures his spirit and approach to art. Birch ( who isn’t a writer by profession), manages to pull this off while also giving you a rollicking account filled with great anecdotes. It’s quite well-known that in 1988, there was a celebrated exhibition of Francis Bacon paintings in Moscow-seminal because this was the first exhibition by a living Western artist in the Soviet Union since 1917. Nearly half a million attended this public exhibition with queues stretching around the block and it was considered emblematic of glasnost-an exhibition by an openly gay artist in a country where homosexuality was punishable by imprisonment and artworks that weren’t propaganda. This book is an account of everything that went on in the background to achieve this, by the uncredited man who made it happen. In the 80s, James Birch ( of later Birch& Conran fame) was an up-and-coming art dealer, whose artists hadn’t hit the big time yet, including Grayson Perry. In 1985, during a conversation with one of his art dealer colleagues, the talk is all about Gorbachev and the cracks in the Iron Curtain, that everyone wanted to exploit ( Margaret Thatcher had, after all, not said that Gorbachev was a man with whom she could engage in diplomacy with, she had said he was a man she could “do business with”). Among other opportunities were the interest that the Soviet commissars were showing in 20th
Century Western artists, and Birch meets the fixer for that, hoping he can get a buzzy new venue to
exhibit his young artists. Some of the best anecdotes of this book are his meetings with Sergei Klokov, the KGB intermediary tasked with getting a Western artist to Russia. The grandson of the man in charge of the Sovier Air Force, and then the nuclear programme( he tells Birch he should be thanking Grandpa Klokov that he’s still alive!), KLokov is a veteran of the war in Afghanistan-an experience he describes laconically as one where he “wielded a flamethrower and torched some villages”, and then a bit later, not so laconically at all confesses he can still smell the burning flesh. There’s also a femme fatale, Elena, described by Klokov as a high priestess of the fashionable circles of Moscow, who seems to lose interest in poor smitten James when he reveals he’s only seen Roger Waters once at a party, and doesn’t actually know him personally. Birch gets on well with KLokov, and decides to go to Moscow, the first in a series of trips he’ll have to make to get his show off the ground. His descriptions of Moscow are wonderful- it wasn’t possible for the structure of a police state to be dismantled overnight, there were visible food shortages, and the list of necessities he’s told to pack are illuminating- Camel cigarettes to offer as currency to flag down passing cars, since there wouldn’t be taxis to take him anywhere. He describes a pervasive odour of rotting apples everywhere he goes-apparently an effect of large quantities of vodka on the urinary system! Klokov arranges his meetings with the Union of Artists, the people who would have to approve the show, and when they hear of Birch’s roster of artists, he’s told that “Avant garde art is not always ideologically correct”, something that so perfectly captures how difficult it was going to be for Gorbachev to change decades of a highly controlled society. Casting about for artists to exhibit in Moscow, Birch meets some local Russian artists-a father and son, who paint landscapes, and when they’re asked about contemporary Western artists they admire, one of them hands Birch a copy of a well-thumbed art magazine, so clearly read multiple times that it’s falling to pieces, and opens it to a black and white print of Bacon’s famous ‘Screaming Pope’. In a telling conversation where they’re reluctant to express their opinions for fear they would be the wrong ones, requiring reassurance from Birch that that wasn’t the way art appreciation worked, they speak about his paintings conveying a certain darkness underlying daily life, in mundane situations like an apartment, or
a bathtub. This sets in motion a chain of events, because by a happy coincidence, Birch has known Bacon since he was a small child ( his fondness for the TV show ‘Rawhide’ causing Bacon to nickname him that). When he gets back to London, Birch writes of boozy lunches and dinners with Francis Bacon, and with his partner/manager John Edwards ( a man who sounds absolutely lovely, to whom the book is dedicated). Bacon seems to have been the sort of person who loved to have long, discursive and often very quippy conversations, and Birch writes of afternoons slipping away from him before he can actually bring up the exhibition to which Bacon’s response was, “And where will I exhibit from, the Lubyanka? Isn’t that where they store chaps like me there?”. Not inaccurate, but Moscow wanted a bit of an image makeover, and weren’t going to jail him! Bacon agrees, though, saying he’s always wanted to see The Hermitage, and reminding Birch of his many references to Russian art in his own paintings, the most famous of course being the screaming head from Battleship Eisenstein repurposed in the Screaming Pope. His agreement is only the start of the long, unsurprisingly bureaucratic process of actually organizing the exhibition-the first step being the writing of a request letter to the Head of the SOvietUnion of Artists. Birch effectively shows you all the sides to Bacon’s personality, though-he might be an expansive bon vivant, but he could also be a thoughtful, serious man, and took his work very seriously, if not himself. Bacon is hilariously instructed not to select any ‘cock enhancing’ paintings, and while Birch rails against this censorship, Bacon surprisingly goes along with this, telling Birch that while “fuss and scandal” were great for him when he was young and brought him a lot of publicity, insisting on paintings that the Soviet state deemed too explicit would only distract from the purpose of the exhibition; Bacon certainly did not need the publicity any more. Once the invitation is issued to Bacon, multiple agencies get involved, and it’s all out of Birch’s hands. Bacon’s gallery, naturally, wants to handle things from there on, and then the British Council gets involved-having been shut in the USSR on
suspicion of espionage, the British Council sees this an opening to regain their position there, and decide that the exhibition will be under their auspices. They announce a series of publicity events, and unfortunately, this ends up spooking Bacon, who feels he can’t handle the stress of this any more and pulls out of attending, sending John Edwards instead. This also has the consequence of Birch not getting any mention at all in any of the publicity materials or catalogues for it, something that must rankle, but he doesn’t dwell on it in the book! The exhibition finally takes place, with the logistics reflecting the continued convolutions of the Iron Curtain-several private collectors were understandably wary about lending paintings to a State not known for its adherence to the rule of Western law, the paintings had to be transported by lorries through Poland to Russia, Soviet airspace still being restricted! The exhibition was a huge success-not restricted to merely the intelligentsia or the arty, some of the most moving( and funny) parts of the book are the comments that Birch includes from the visitors book, with people writing about how incredible it was for them to get access to this, and some quipping that continued food shortages required the State to give them “bacon, not Francis Bacon”. Birch writes of how struck he is by how different the atmosphere was compared to a similar exhibition in London, that had by now seen several exhibitions by artists, the conversations, the constantly circulating chatterati, while in Moscow, it was mostly silent, with visitors spending hours in front of each painting, the event being such a novelty. Bacon is thrilled by the reception and the accolades, and in a poignant conversation with Birch reflects on people’s views that his paintings reflect the unhappiness they feel exists along with their regular life, while he’s been mostly happy, despite the many personal losses of his family, his sitters, who were all dear friends, and lovers in some instances. While he feels life is essentially meaningless, his work has brought meaning to it, something he held on to till the end of his life, continuing with his schedule of working in his studio from 7 am each day, despite the late hours he kept every night. Both Birch and Bacon were soon to experience the contradictions of this profound experience in their livesBacon was so moved by this that he gifted a painting to Klokov, who, learning quickly from all the capitalists he was getting access to, immediately sold it to Sotheby’s and bought a small business in Kazakhstan with the proceeds ( it was a snake farm, it failed). For Birch, who had a relationship with Elena who lived with him, he was to discover that she had been informing the KGB of all their conversations-a betrayal to him, but completely obvious to her! Glasnost is all very well, but surely the KGB needed to know who it was they were letting into their country! THIs felt like the perfect way to end a book about art that’s also about life, freedoms and what gives us meaning.
without being only about parties and promiscuity and champagne ( though there’s also that), a moving remembrance of the inherent contradictions of hope and control in perestroika and glasnost, and a biography of Francis Bacon that captures his spirit and approach to art. Birch ( who isn’t a writer by profession), manages to pull this off while also giving you a rollicking account filled with great anecdotes. It’s quite well-known that in 1988, there was a celebrated exhibition of Francis Bacon paintings in Moscow-seminal because this was the first exhibition by a living Western artist in the Soviet Union since 1917. Nearly half a million attended this public exhibition with queues stretching around the block and it was considered emblematic of glasnost-an exhibition by an openly gay artist in a country where homosexuality was punishable by imprisonment and artworks that weren’t propaganda. This book is an account of everything that went on in the background to achieve this, by the uncredited man who made it happen. In the 80s, James Birch ( of later Birch& Conran fame) was an up-and-coming art dealer, whose artists hadn’t hit the big time yet, including Grayson Perry. In 1985, during a conversation with one of his art dealer colleagues, the talk is all about Gorbachev and the cracks in the Iron Curtain, that everyone wanted to exploit ( Margaret Thatcher had, after all, not said that Gorbachev was a man with whom she could engage in diplomacy with, she had said he was a man she could “do business with”). Among other opportunities were the interest that the Soviet commissars were showing in 20th
Century Western artists, and Birch meets the fixer for that, hoping he can get a buzzy new venue to
exhibit his young artists. Some of the best anecdotes of this book are his meetings with Sergei Klokov, the KGB intermediary tasked with getting a Western artist to Russia. The grandson of the man in charge of the Sovier Air Force, and then the nuclear programme( he tells Birch he should be thanking Grandpa Klokov that he’s still alive!), KLokov is a veteran of the war in Afghanistan-an experience he describes laconically as one where he “wielded a flamethrower and torched some villages”, and then a bit later, not so laconically at all confesses he can still smell the burning flesh. There’s also a femme fatale, Elena, described by Klokov as a high priestess of the fashionable circles of Moscow, who seems to lose interest in poor smitten James when he reveals he’s only seen Roger Waters once at a party, and doesn’t actually know him personally. Birch gets on well with KLokov, and decides to go to Moscow, the first in a series of trips he’ll have to make to get his show off the ground. His descriptions of Moscow are wonderful- it wasn’t possible for the structure of a police state to be dismantled overnight, there were visible food shortages, and the list of necessities he’s told to pack are illuminating- Camel cigarettes to offer as currency to flag down passing cars, since there wouldn’t be taxis to take him anywhere. He describes a pervasive odour of rotting apples everywhere he goes-apparently an effect of large quantities of vodka on the urinary system! Klokov arranges his meetings with the Union of Artists, the people who would have to approve the show, and when they hear of Birch’s roster of artists, he’s told that “Avant garde art is not always ideologically correct”, something that so perfectly captures how difficult it was going to be for Gorbachev to change decades of a highly controlled society. Casting about for artists to exhibit in Moscow, Birch meets some local Russian artists-a father and son, who paint landscapes, and when they’re asked about contemporary Western artists they admire, one of them hands Birch a copy of a well-thumbed art magazine, so clearly read multiple times that it’s falling to pieces, and opens it to a black and white print of Bacon’s famous ‘Screaming Pope’. In a telling conversation where they’re reluctant to express their opinions for fear they would be the wrong ones, requiring reassurance from Birch that that wasn’t the way art appreciation worked, they speak about his paintings conveying a certain darkness underlying daily life, in mundane situations like an apartment, or
a bathtub. This sets in motion a chain of events, because by a happy coincidence, Birch has known Bacon since he was a small child ( his fondness for the TV show ‘Rawhide’ causing Bacon to nickname him that). When he gets back to London, Birch writes of boozy lunches and dinners with Francis Bacon, and with his partner/manager John Edwards ( a man who sounds absolutely lovely, to whom the book is dedicated). Bacon seems to have been the sort of person who loved to have long, discursive and often very quippy conversations, and Birch writes of afternoons slipping away from him before he can actually bring up the exhibition to which Bacon’s response was, “And where will I exhibit from, the Lubyanka? Isn’t that where they store chaps like me there?”. Not inaccurate, but Moscow wanted a bit of an image makeover, and weren’t going to jail him! Bacon agrees, though, saying he’s always wanted to see The Hermitage, and reminding Birch of his many references to Russian art in his own paintings, the most famous of course being the screaming head from Battleship Eisenstein repurposed in the Screaming Pope. His agreement is only the start of the long, unsurprisingly bureaucratic process of actually organizing the exhibition-the first step being the writing of a request letter to the Head of the SOvietUnion of Artists. Birch effectively shows you all the sides to Bacon’s personality, though-he might be an expansive bon vivant, but he could also be a thoughtful, serious man, and took his work very seriously, if not himself. Bacon is hilariously instructed not to select any ‘cock enhancing’ paintings, and while Birch rails against this censorship, Bacon surprisingly goes along with this, telling Birch that while “fuss and scandal” were great for him when he was young and brought him a lot of publicity, insisting on paintings that the Soviet state deemed too explicit would only distract from the purpose of the exhibition; Bacon certainly did not need the publicity any more. Once the invitation is issued to Bacon, multiple agencies get involved, and it’s all out of Birch’s hands. Bacon’s gallery, naturally, wants to handle things from there on, and then the British Council gets involved-having been shut in the USSR on
suspicion of espionage, the British Council sees this an opening to regain their position there, and decide that the exhibition will be under their auspices. They announce a series of publicity events, and unfortunately, this ends up spooking Bacon, who feels he can’t handle the stress of this any more and pulls out of attending, sending John Edwards instead. This also has the consequence of Birch not getting any mention at all in any of the publicity materials or catalogues for it, something that must rankle, but he doesn’t dwell on it in the book! The exhibition finally takes place, with the logistics reflecting the continued convolutions of the Iron Curtain-several private collectors were understandably wary about lending paintings to a State not known for its adherence to the rule of Western law, the paintings had to be transported by lorries through Poland to Russia, Soviet airspace still being restricted! The exhibition was a huge success-not restricted to merely the intelligentsia or the arty, some of the most moving( and funny) parts of the book are the comments that Birch includes from the visitors book, with people writing about how incredible it was for them to get access to this, and some quipping that continued food shortages required the State to give them “bacon, not Francis Bacon”. Birch writes of how struck he is by how different the atmosphere was compared to a similar exhibition in London, that had by now seen several exhibitions by artists, the conversations, the constantly circulating chatterati, while in Moscow, it was mostly silent, with visitors spending hours in front of each painting, the event being such a novelty. Bacon is thrilled by the reception and the accolades, and in a poignant conversation with Birch reflects on people’s views that his paintings reflect the unhappiness they feel exists along with their regular life, while he’s been mostly happy, despite the many personal losses of his family, his sitters, who were all dear friends, and lovers in some instances. While he feels life is essentially meaningless, his work has brought meaning to it, something he held on to till the end of his life, continuing with his schedule of working in his studio from 7 am each day, despite the late hours he kept every night. Both Birch and Bacon were soon to experience the contradictions of this profound experience in their livesBacon was so moved by this that he gifted a painting to Klokov, who, learning quickly from all the capitalists he was getting access to, immediately sold it to Sotheby’s and bought a small business in Kazakhstan with the proceeds ( it was a snake farm, it failed). For Birch, who had a relationship with Elena who lived with him, he was to discover that she had been informing the KGB of all their conversations-a betrayal to him, but completely obvious to her! Glasnost is all very well, but surely the KGB needed to know who it was they were letting into their country! THIs felt like the perfect way to end a book about art that’s also about life, freedoms and what gives us meaning.
April 2, 2022
This review has nothing to do with the fact that a photograph of mine is included in James Birch's book. Grayson Perry, who got his first serious exhibition exposure from James, is not biased when he states that it's a rollicking good adventure.James Birch's recount of the pre-Saatchi period of London's art world sums up the energy and home grown passion that ignited the YBA Saatchi dominated corporatisation of English art. James's wit and love of the surreal, and the British surrealists, shows the pedigree of a truly creative curator, whose education was through practice and immersion. It's a true page turner with great lines and observations from either side of the iron curtain. I have to admit I was wondering if this would come anywhere near Michael Peppiatt's account of his enthralment with FB. It brings a refreshingly different perspective to the artist and his relationships beyond Peppiatt's somewhat guarded morsels of information. I loved the book. My photograph was reproduced very poorly though.
February 6, 2022
Fabulous and surreal romp through 80’s Soho and Moscow. Opens a window on Soviet Russia and the life of a legendary artist and the cast of astonishing courtiers.. Part documentary part diary/journal. Loved every minute of it.
July 3, 2022
Slight is not the word. Occasionally moderately interesting, nothing new about Bacon. The book is in fact mostly about James Birch, who does not merit one one. Laborious prose. The colour reproductions of the paintings exhibited in Moscow are some of the poorest I have seen in a book about Art.
May 20, 2022
I stumbled across this book in my social feeds, and was suitably intrigued that I reserved it from the local library. I then heard an interview with Birch on the radio (which admittedly I found a bit flat and uninspiring). The book on the other hand is wonderful, if truth is stranger than fiction, this definitely is an example, full of intrigue and subterfuge, there's more scheming and plotting than the best Cold War spy thriller.A fantastic memoir and story, which must, on reflection feel very surreal and we will never fully understand the Soviet world. Beautifully produced book, great photo's and reproductions of Bacon's works, and the quotes from the visitor's book are hilarious and insightful.
August 3, 2023
An unbelievable romp. But you'd better believe it. James Birch lived it and tells it in this glorious account of his efforts to share Francis Bacon with Russians as they became more ready to have their tummies tickled by modern British art in the late 1980s.
A mix of intrigue, hopes, heavy drinking, menace and good old British Bacon. Double underlined for quality. Insist on it
From @cheeriopublishing
A mix of intrigue, hopes, heavy drinking, menace and good old British Bacon. Double underlined for quality. Insist on it
From @cheeriopublishing
August 12, 2023
This is a book about the clash of cultures - the Communist mindset of Russia under Gorbachev and the mindset of the English art scene from the fifties and sixties. I found the insights into the latter to be a more interesting and fun than the former. This is because I have experienced life in ex-communist countries and nothing about it came to me as a surprise. Overall the book is good fun, interesting. Richard E. Grant reads the audiobook and adds a lot to it.
June 11, 2024
Art gallery Owner. Book about Organising a Exhibition in Russia. For the Artist Francis Bacon. Funny and Amusing Stories. About the Many Hoops you Must go through. In the Russian System. Interesting for Me also. Because One of My Favourite Artists. Grayson Perry. Is Included. Was exhibuted in James Birch Gallery.
March 30, 2022
Captured the oddness of the USSR in the 80s
December 8, 2022
Wonderful. Truly wonderful. I read it all in one go and when I finished it the feeling of orphanhood prevailed. What always happens to me after reading a great book. Thank you, James.
April 4, 2024
Interesting and esoteric look at glasnost and perestroika in the art world.
February 13, 2025
Big fun
December 12, 2025
Again just planning to skim the book but became engrossed in a bizarre adventure to the Soviet Union whilst getting to know Francis Bacon. The 1980s was a wild time.
June 10, 2022
Not particularly well written but an easy engage. When read, leaves a faint 80's echo and a stalking faint trace of Soho's Francis Bacon.
May 13, 2023
An incredible and personal account of the insanity which goes into art shows as well as dealing with world famous artists.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews