The documentary Fabergé: A Life Of Its Own (2014) has three phases: the historical phase, detailing the chronology and personalities among both creators and its consumers; its pop culture phase, characterized by the scavenging of the famous name by popular culture in order to engage in the capitalistic practice of monetization; and the collectors phase, which explores the brand’s resurrection within the connoisseur set. Each has a lesson to teach.
An Imperial gift, with a visage to remind you just who’s in charge.
The historical section, which I found the most interesting, covers the early history of Fabergé, as well as its peak period: objects produced, methods of the workshops, and surrounding society. From his humble beginnings to his death as a Russian Revolution refugee in Lausanne, Switzerland, Carl Fabergé takes a remarkably quiet center stage. He appears to have been an alert businessman, yet perhaps unaffected by the lure of wealth. His most famous patrons, of course, symbolized the importance of deft diplomacy, even in a merchant: the Imperial Russian family. Being alert to the preferences and currents of the high Russian family may have meant it was critical that he produce great and unique art rather than mass production and maximization of profit; after all, the peasants could not hope to afford even his cheapest product. There is no denying that he had wealth, but the documentary chooses not to emphasize it; whether that’s a choice reflecting reality or the movie makers’ preferences is not clear.
He may have been simply dedicated to his end product. In the end, though, most of his artisans, drafted into the army, died at the front, whether from combat or disease, and that was the beginning of the end for Fabergé, an end which was given an exclamation mark by the end of the Romanov dynasty.
The second phase, perhaps purposefully, showcases the use of the Fabergé name to promote many modern products. It’s crass, it’s vulgar, and while interesting in showing how the pursuit of wealth results in quite ridiculous uses of the old brand, in the end it’s repugnant. It’s a lesson in 1960s-1970s American bad taste.
A late period egg by a rare female artisan.
The final phase gives us more views of the artifacts of Fabergé as the initiation of the period of collecting them is covered. A number of collectors are interviewed, although it seems a bit flat. However, at least for me, that all faded away in one interview. The context I brought to the moment was this: I was musing on the disaster that befell the Russian Imperial family at the hands of the Soviet usurpers, and wondered if the situation that led to their terminal predicament was the fault of a family convinced that it had the blessing of Heaven on it to rule Russia, or if the situation was simply intractable and their doom sealed no matter what they might have done, other than flee. As I thought about that, I was struck by a collector’s awestruck remark that the object he held in his hand was absolutely perfect.
The death of Imperial Russia dreams.
In my mind flashed scenes of peasants dying of famine, Russian soldiers slaughtered at the front as their weapons didn’t work, the mutiny of the military, bloody revolution, the revolution being co-opted by opportunists, all the elements of dystopia.
For a surrealistic moment, I wondered if that exquisite piece had, in its very fashioning, drained all around it of right and goodness, leaving little but dross in its wake. To understand that these artifacts, as well thought out and made as they were, were created in the dusk of a once-mighty empire makes for an admiration that is bittersweet.
If you enjoy the beauty and intricacies of Fabergé work, the artifacts and the history are fascinating. But, as one of the experts remarks, nearly all of them are about the past, not the future. In a sense, those made for the Imperial family were, like much artwork throughout history, about justifying the positions the owners, as well as those celebrated in that art, held in society. In the case of the Russian Imperial family, they inadvertently become markers on the path of doom and disaster.
