A Soviet Artist’s Unstill Life : Art: Galina Popova is in L.A determined to win recognition for her late husband, Leningrad painter Eugene Rukhin.

G lasnost and perestroika have introduced dozens of Soviet artists to the bright lights of the West and made stars of a few of them, but the late Eugene Rukhin has remained in the shadows.

His death by fire in 1976 was reported in the American press, and critics mourned the loss of the 32-year-old artist whose abstract paintings were among the most innovative artworks made in the Soviet Union during the repressive ‘60s and ‘70s. But the story of Rukhin’s brilliant life and mysterious death probably would have been forgotten if his widow, Galina Popova, hadn’t surfaced in Los Angeles with about 250 of his paintings and a resolve to win recognition for her late husband.

Her treasures include works from his early years--bold representations of old Russian churches and technical experiments--as well as his widely admired abstractions that merge formal abstraction with symbolic references to modern Soviet life and Russian history. So far, these paintings have only been shown privately, but Popova has bigger plans for them: she wants them to be displayed in public exhibitions in Los Angeles, New York, Moscow and Leningrad.

“Eugene thought those four cities were the most important places to show his paintings,” said Popova, a jewelry designer and stained glass artist who left the Soviet Union in 1978 and now lives in Arcadia.

Popova may be in for a struggle, but she has at least three things going for her: a climate of intense interest in all things Russian, a compelling story and a body of work that has been endorsed by such prominent figures as artist James Rosenquist, the late dealer Betty Parsons, Russian scholar John Bowlt and critic Douglas Davis.

Rukhin was a human powerhouse who fueled the unofficial art movement in Leningrad during the Cold War, according to Popova and others who knew him. As a dissident, his exhibition opportunities were limited mainly to his own home and other artists’ apartments, but his paintings were avidly collected in diplomatic circles. Working tirelessly to promote the work of fellow artists as well as his own, he established a vital network of contacts, corresponded and met with prominent American artists, collected Western art magazines and exhibition catalogues, and established himself in Moscow’s underground art community.

Rukhin’s unorthodox activities were tolerated for several years, probably because he had achieved a degree of prominence and was in demand as a host for foreign visitors. But in 1974, when bulldozers flattened an unauthorized outdoor exhibition in Moscow, Rukhin’s paintings were among the ruins and he was one of five people arrested.

The political climate became increasingly stifling in the mid-’70s, and Rukhin began to have premonitions of death, Popova said. One night while he was away in Moscow, rocks crashed through his Leningrad apartment window, leaving his newborn baby bloody and terrorizing Popova. When Rukhin died in a fire at his studio, his friends and family suspected that he had been dealt his final punishment by a repressive government.

Looking back to the couple’s years together, beginning with their marriage in 1965, Popova recalled a rich, comfortable life that turned into a nightmare.

Rukhin was educated to be a geologist but became an artist and often claimed that his lack of formal training was a boon to his creativity.

Popova supported Rukhin and their children by working as a decorative artist for the artists’ union. Eventually, he found an underground market for his paintings, but he was inclined to give them away or sell them for very small sums, she said.

Early on, Rukhin began to incorporate found objects on his canvases. His works done in the ‘70s, after he hit his stride, typically combine thickly painted passages with real objects chosen for their symbolic value. Locks, zippers and seals refer to a closed society, while imprints of icons and bits of wooden moldings recall antiquity.

Rukhin was never allowed to leave the Soviet Union, but many of his works got out in diplomatic pouches. The North Carolina Museum of Art, in Raleigh, mounted an exhibition of his work in 1975, consisting of 42 works from American collections.

Reviewing the exhibition for Newsweek, critic Douglas Davis wrote, “The show reveals the energetic, colorful 32-year-old Rukhin to be one of the few Russian dissidents whose work can stand up to close critical scrutiny.”

Popova’s life fell apart after the tragic fire. She left the Soviet Union with her three children in 1978. “I was asked to leave,” she said, of the period when intellectuals were advised to emigrate.

Soviet authorities saw no value in Rukhin’s paintings, but--as a final insult--they tried to make her pay to take them out of the country, she said. Her tenacity finally persuaded them to let the paintings go, but not before a seven-hour search of the artworks, that included poking into the crevices of the canvas and frame looking for contraband. “I asked them what they were looking for, and they told me diamonds,” she said.

After spending six months in Vienna, awaiting an American visa, she and the children moved to New York for two years and put the paintings in storage. Then they settled in Kerrville, Tex., where Popova had her first American job, designing jewelry and architectural stained glass. In October, 1988, she came to Los Angeles, where she believed she would have a better chance of gaining an audience for Rukhin’s paintings.

A cousin had put her in touch with George Mayers, a private dealer in Los Angeles. Popova agreed to put him in charge of cataloguing, exhibiting and marketing the collection, but they soon disagreed on how the art should be handled. When she tried to rescind the contract she discovered that she needed legal assistance, so she called California Lawyers for the Arts, a group that offers legal services for artists.

The Century City law firm of Gold, Marks, Ring & Pepper took the case and, after lengthy negotiations, effected a settlement.

With the paintings in hand, Popova is now testing the waters. Two works will be included in an upcoming exhibition at USC and other local shows are in the talking stages. Arranging exhibitions in the Soviet Union is certain to be more complicated. “I am told that Eugene is a national hero in Leningrad, but I don’t know what is going on there. I need to go there and see if the time is right for an exhibition. Things can be torn down very fast, but rebuilding is a long, slow process,” she said.