By Sophie Works
Florida State University
My name is Sophie Works, and I am a second-year Global Scholar honors student at Florida State University pursuing a dual degree in Russian (Slavic) Studies and International Affairs. I’m from Tampa, Florida, and thanks to the Tyler Center for Global Studies, I’ll be traveling abroad for the first time ever to conduct research in Riga, Latvia.
Sophie Works, Russian (Slavic) Studies and International Affairs Major(s)
My project, which also serves as my Honors in the Major thesis, investigates the various narratives projected onto Russian folk art, specifically Russian lacquer art, and how these attitudes reflect the manifestation of these objects in private and public post-Soviet spaces.
Tsarevich Ivan, the Firebird and the Gray Wolf (top), Fedoskino, USSR, Lacquer, papier-mâché; The Scarlet Flower (second from top), Palekh, USSR, Lacquer, papier-mâché; The Frog Princess (second from bottom), Palekh, USSR, Lacquer, papier-mâché; The Tale of the Golden Cockerel (bottom), Mstera, USSR, Lacquer, papier-mâché.
Russian lacquer art is a form of miniature painting depicting Russian wondertales, fairytale motifs, landscapes, and animals. It has roots dating back to 16th century religious icon painting, but was censored at the inception of the Soviet Union’s atheist regime. As a result, the art made its shift to folklore painting. Artists used agrarian techniques like egg-yolk tempera paints, single squirrel-hair brushes, and wolf-tooth polishers to create vibrant, intricate miniatures. During this Soviet era, lacquer art paradoxically symbolized peasant identity while functioning as a lucrative commercial export for the West. Plus, despite depicting peasant folklore themes, pieces were never intended for the proletariat—working class—of the USSR, heightening tensions between the failure of ideology not reflecting the everyday lives of its citizens.
Map of Latvia, highlighted in red
View of Old Town, Riga, Latvia.
Today, these contradictions did not disappear with the fall of the Soviet Union. Instead, they have taken on new meaning in contemporary post-Soviet realities. For example, Latvia, which is currently implementing de-Russification policies to distance itself from its Soviet past and condemn Russia’s actions in the ongoing Russo-Ukrainian War, provides a unique context for examining the evolving role of cultural heritage objects. So, by studying the role and existence of lacquer art in post-Soviet homes, antique stores, and museums, lacquer art will reveal how cultural objects accrue new layers of function—beyond its original intent—to reflect changing relationships between the legacy of Soviet identity, nostalgia, material culture, and public national memory versus private civilian memory.
Process of Photogrammetry on a Russian Lacquer Box (top), Agisoft Metashape and Process of Photogrammetry on a Lacquer Matryoshka Doll (bottom), Agisoft Metashape
For my four weeks in Riga, I plan to curate portraits by combining digital ethnography, object-based interviews, and material evaluation. Using photogrammetry (the taking of photos of an object to transform it into a 3D model), I will combine visual narratives with analysis, enhancing this portrait-based methodology in which participants’ lacquer pieces, rather than their faces, serve as the focal points of visual representation. The goal is to curate a digital repository preserving these portraits in order to provide an accessible and non-commercialized space for lacquer art.
My glass cabinet (left), Tallahassee, Florida and My mother’s glass cabinet (right), Tampa, Florida
My passion for this work stems from, ironically, my initial hatred of my mother’s heirlooms. For at first, I always thought of her antiques as useless “junk,” especially her glass display cabinet filled with curiosities from England to Russia. In fact, it filled me with resentment—as it felt like a self-obsessed shrine to sentimentality that I didn’t share. But, during one of the hundreds of thrift store excursions she would drag me on, I flipped over a random teacup and found it had a coveted, highly valuable, English Bone China porcelain mark. The thrill of the antique hunt had then wholeheartedly entangled me, forming an emotional connection with my mom that did not exist before. Quickly, my newfound appreciation for her objects and the bond they represented between us turned into an obsession, particularly with Russian lacquer art. These objects fueled my academic passion, guiding my studies in the Russian language, its folklore, and material culture.
The Little Humpbacked Horse, Inside my “glass cabinet”, Palekh, USSR, Lacquer, papier-mâché.
Ultimately, I plan to earn a Ph.D. in Russian and Slavic Studies to challenge institutionalized scholarly and commercial narratives by curating accessible collections of Soviet material culture and its stories. Looking to my mother’s heirlooms, I intend to preserve and investigate the trajectory of these objects and their narratives to inspire worldwide emotional connections through the material plane.
My Personal Collection of Lacquer Eggs (top left), Various Villages, USSR, Lacquer, papier-mâché; My Personal Collection of Lacquer Porcelain Plates and Lacquer Kitchenware (top right), Palekh, USSR, Lacquer, Porcelain and Wood; My Personal Collection of Lacquer Matryoshka Dolls (bottom), Various Villages, USSR, Lacquer, papier-mâché;
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