courtyard, Ivan III ordered the construction of a new Cathedral of the Archangel in place of the old one, just as he had done earlier with the
Cathedral of the Assumption. Alevisio accomplished this task between 1505 and 1509, following the plan of the Cathedral of the Assumption, but adding such distinct traits as Italian decoration of the facade. The three cathedrals of the Annunciation, the Assumption, and the Archangel Michael became, so to speak, the sacred heart of the Kremlin and served, among other functions, respectively, as the place for the wedding, the coronation, and the burial of the rulers of Russia.
Stone palaces also began to appear. As with the cathedrals, probably the greatest interest attaches to the palace in the Kremlin in Moscow. It was constructed by Ruffo, Solario, Alevisio, and other Italian architects, but following the canons of Russian wooden architecture: the palace was a conglomerate of separate parts, not a single building. Indeed stone structures often replaced the earlier wooden ones piecemeal. Italian architects also rebuilt walls and erected towers in the Kremlin, while Alevisio surrounded it with a moat by joining the waters of the rivers Moscow and Neglinnaia. Soviet specialists insisted that the Muscovite Kremlin became the greatest citadel of its kind in Europe. They also stressed the point that its architecture made use of the existing terrain, by contrast with the Italian tradition, which required leveling and preparation of a site for building. But we shall return to the Kremlin when we deal with Muscovite Russia.
More than architecture, icon painting has frequently been considered the medieval Russian art par excellence, the greatest and most authentic expression of the spirituality and the creative genius of the Russians of the appanage period. As we have seen, icon painting came to Russia with Christianity from Byzantium. However, apparently quite early the Russians proceeded to modify their Byzantine heritage and to develop the rudiments of an original style. In the centuries which followed the collapse of the Kievan state several magnificent Russian schools of icon painting came into their own. To understand their role in the life and culture of the Russians, one should appreciate the importance of icons to a believer who finds in them a direct link with the other world and, in effect, a materialization of that other world. If, on one hand, icons might suggest superstition and even idolatry, they represent, on the other, one of the most radical and powerful attempts to grapple with such fundamental Christian doctrines as the incarnation and the transfiguration of the universe. And, in the appanage period, pictorial representation provided otherwise unobtainable information and education for the illiterate masses.
The first original Russian school of icon painting appeared in Suzdal at the end of the thirteenth century, flourished in the fourteenth, and merged early in the fifteenth with the Muscovite school. Like the architecture of Suzdal, the icons are characterized by elegance, grace, and fine taste, and can also be distinguished, according to Grabar, by 'a general tone, which is always cool, silvery, in contrast to Novgorodian painting which inevitably
tends towards the warm, the yellowish, the golden.' The famous icon of Saints Boris and Gleb and that of Archangel Michael on a silver background provide excellent examples of the icon painting of Suzdal.
'The warm, the yellowish, the golden' Novgorodian school deserves further notice because of its monumentality and generally bright colors. The icons are often in the grand style, large in size, massive in composition, and full of figures and action. 'The Praying Novgorodians' and 'The Miracle of Our Lady,' also known as 'The Battle between the Men of Suzdal and the Novgorodians,' illustrate the above-mentioned points. The Novgorodian school reached its highest development around the middle of the fifteenth century, and its influence continued after the fall of the city.
In the second half of the fourteenth century a distinct school formed in and around Moscow. Soon it came to be led by the most celebrated icon painter of all times, Andrew Rublev, who lived approximately from 1370 to 1430. The few extant works known to be Rublev's, especially his masterpiece, a representation of the so-called Old Testament Holy Trinity, demonstrate exquisite drawing, composition, rhythm, harmony, and lyricism. Muratov, stressing the influence of St. Sergius on the artist, describes Rublev's chef d'oeuvre as follows:
This masterpiece is imbued with a suave and mystical spirituality. The composition is simple and harmonious; following its own rhythm, free from any emphasis or heaviness, it obeys a movement clearly discernible and yet hardly noticeable. The impression of harmony, peace, light and integrity which this icon produces, is a revelation of the spirit of St. Sergius.
Dionysus, who was active in the first decade of the sixteenth century, stood out as the greatest continuer of the traditions of Rublev and the Muscovite school. Contemporaries mentioned his name immediately after Rublev's, and his few remaining creations support this high esteem. The icons of Dionysus are distinguished by a marvelous grace, especially in the delineation of figures, and by a certain perfection and polish. For subjects he often chose the Virgin Mary, the protectress of the city of Moscow, and the Holy Family. It should be noted that the works of Rublev and Dionysus set the high standard of icon paintings not only in Russia, but also generally in the Orthodox East.
In addition to the icons, some very valuable frescoes have come down to us from the appanage period. Located in old churches, they include works possibly of Rublev and certainly of Dionysus and his followers. The art of the miniature also continued to develop, achieving a high degree of excellence in the fifteenth century. The so- called Khitrovo Gospels of the beginning of the fifteenth century and some other manuscripts contained excellent illustrations and illumination. By contrast with all these forms of painting, sculpture was stifled because the Orthodox Church continued its ban on statuary, although, contrary to a popular misconception,
even large-scale sculpture was not unknown in ancient Russia. Miniature sculpture, which was permitted, developed in a remarkable manner. Cutting figures one inch and less in height, Russian artists managed to represent saints, scenes from the Gospels, and even trees, hills, and buildings as background. The most famous practitioner of this difficult art was the monk Ambrosius, whose work is linked to the Holy Trinity-St. Sergius Monastery. In spite of general poverty, certain artistic crafts, especially embroidery, also developed brilliantly in the appanage period.
In the appanage period, education was in eclipse. As already indicated, the Mongol devastation and the relative isolation and poverty characteristic of the age led to a diminution in culture and learning. The decline of Russian towns played an especially significant role in this process, because Kievan culture had been essentially urban. Studying documents of the appanage period, we find mention of illiterate princes, and we note repeated complaints on the part of the higher clergy of the ignorance of priests. The masses of people, of course, received no education at all, although a certain slight qualification of that statement might be in order on the basis of the already-mentioned Novgorodian birchbark documents. Yet some learning and skills did remain to support the cultural development outlined in this chapter. They were preserved and promoted largely by the monasteries - as happened earlier and under comparable conditions in the West - not only by the great Holy Trinity-St. Sergius Monastery north of Moscow, but also by such distant ones as that of St. Cyril on the White Lake or the Solovetskii on the White Sea. The first century after the Mongol invasion seems to have been the nadir. With the rise of Moscow, education and learning in Russia likewise began a painful ascent.
XIV
And one more trait distinguishing the grand princedom of Lithuania from its origin revealed itself. This state from the very beginning was not simply Lithuanian, but Lithuanian-Russian.
Lithuania's expansion, almost unique in its rapid success, thus proved beyond the real forces of the Lithuanians alone and of a dynasty which in spite of the unusual qualities of many of its members was too divided by the petty rivalries of its various branches to guarantee a joint action under one chief… The comparatively small group of ethnic Lithuanians would have been the main victim, but the whole of East Central Europe would have
