new_world_the_seperation_of_lenin
new_world_the_head_258x327mm_2016_9
new_world_258x320mm_2016_9am-7pm
new_world_258x320mm_2016
new_world_258x327mm_2016_6
new_world_258x240mm_2015
new_world_fly
new_world_280x431mm_2016_5
new_world_258x320mm_2016_10
new_world_258x320mm_2016_8
new_world_258x320mm_2016_7
new_world_258x320mm_2016_4
new_world_258x320mm_2016_3
new_world_258x320mm_2016_2
new_world_258x320mm_2015_the_black_square
new_world__2016_5
new_world_3_figures
new_world_2_figures
new_world__2016_8

To a certain extent, according similar lines the relationship between the Soviet past and the Post-Soviet present develops in those territories that for over 60 years were screened from the West by the Iron Curtain. The Soviet past is still present in everyday life of the people living in these places, be it the name of a square or a monument in that square, expressions in the spoken language or even a certain type of behavior. In other words, the Soviet and Post-Soviet people know one another, but they do not live one for the other. The series “New World” meticulously documents the uncanny – familiar, yet strange – presence of the Soviet past in today’s life. The background on which these people come to life in Anro’s work consists of the pages from the monthly literary magazine, which has been published in Moscow since 1925. A token of “Sovietness” – interestingly enough, in its rather liberal form, especially during Gorbachev’s perestroika of the 1980s, - the pages of these journals are the reverberation of a distant utopia, which somehow survived from the ruins of the collapsed Soviet Union. Once again, they human beings drawn and painted on these pages are as real as in the photographs from which they were taken. They are made of nostalgia as well as of the incongruences that the Post-Soviet people find in adapting to the “new world” of today.

Antonio Geusa