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![A Soviet portrait =: [Strana Sovetov, subektivnyii portret], photograph 1 of 14](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fepilonian.s3.us-west-1.amazonaws.com%2F20220728004%2F20220728004_001.jpg&w=3840&q=75)
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Norman H. Gershman Gallery, Inc [Published date: 1986]. Oversized paper covers. Text in Russian and English. Published in an (unnumbered) edition of 500 copies in conjunction with exhibitions at International Center of Photography, New York and Friendship House, Moscow, September 1986.
In acceptable condition. Oversized Red pictorial soft covers have two 1" closed tears running from the middle of the spine along both the front and back cover. Thin white scratch starting in the middle of front cover running down to the bottom edge. Light bumping and creasing to edges and corners with a bit of peeling to the corner tips. Light nicking and tearing along spine as well. Moderate overall scuffing to covers as well with a bit of the color scuffed off along edges and spine. Binding tight. Light creasing to end papers. Otherwise interior pages are clean and unmarked. NOT Ex-library. [From Foreword] A SOVIET PORTRAIT is the very personal culmination of two journeys to the Soviet Union in 1983 and 1984 - the travels of a second generation American in search of his ancestors. In the vast and complex land that is called the Soviet Union, I found those towns where my grandparents were born. I found people with my name in the telephone book. But more importantly, I found that I am "related" to "strangers" in the Soviet Union. I felt a deep kinship to the Armenians with their strong family life, the Georgians who are so passionate, the Uzbeks who might have walked out of the pages of 1001 Nights, the Muscovites struggling with the daily problems of urban life. I discovered as well the beauty and dignity of the land itself, and of its ancient cultures. The Soviet people have an abiding reverence for their land and its past. This collection of photographs is not meant to be a narrative, and it makes no political statement. The images are admittedly - even deliberately - romantic in mood, for this is how I see the land and its people. The texts are in Russian and English so that I may give these pictures back to the Soviet people in return for their hospitality and generosity to me. The spirit of friendship that the Soviet people overwhelmingly show toward Americans is typified by the Kazak woman I photographed selling peanuts in a Siberian open air market. She knew immediately by my clothes that I was a foreigner and asked me in Russian where I was from. When I told her I am an American she scooped a big pile of peanuts into a cone made of newspaper and would not allow me to pay. Along with the peanuts, she gave me a message to carry home. "Tell the Americans," she said, clasping my hand in hers, "that we want peace."