Hommage à Florence is a magnificent, large-scale acrylic on canvas by Boris Zaborov, the Belarusian-born artist who relocated to Paris and passed away in 2021. Regarding this work, Giovanna Giusti—academic, art historian, and curator of an exhibition of his work held in Florence at the Accademia del Disegno in 2018—writes:
"Between 2010 and 2021, Boris Zaborov worked on a piece that intensely absorbed his passion and creative energy. The initial tribute was directed toward one of the architects of the Tuscan Renaissance (Quattrocento. Omaggio a Piero della Francesca). The study of The Flagellation had merged into the geometric modules that map out the ideal and concrete measure of man and things, within the balanced rigor of a space shared between a model and three women—one young and two old. Zaborov’s research then layered itself upon that first painting, as he did not hesitate, as was his custom, to look deeper. Over a span of ten years, up until his final days, by repainting over the first draft—like a fresco covering the sinopia—Zaborov made the initial thought even stronger with Omaggio a Florence, delivering to painting his moving dedication to the city he remembered as a spiritual civilization unique on earth, one that had completely absorbed him ever since he was a young student."
It would be difficult to find better words to describe Hommage à Florence which, on May 21st of this year, during an official ceremony in the Sala delle Adunanze, was presented as a gift by his widow, Irina Zaborov, to the Accademia delle Arti del Disegno in Florence, of which Zaborov had been a member since 2018.
This is not the first work by this extraordinary, passionate artist to arrive in the city on the Arno. In 2008, he donated his self-portrait The Artist and His Model to the Uffizi Gallery, becoming part of the historic Self-Portraits collection. Furthermore, other works, including the large painting dedicated to Brunelleschi’s Dome, were offered by him in 2018 to the Accademia, which that same year hosted his exhibition Lo spazio del Silenzio (The Space of Silence).
This major donation—a milestone that seals Zaborov's relationship with Florence, born during his youth studies in the Soviet Union long before he could ever visit or hope to see it—makes me look back with emotion and gratitude at this figure of contemporary art. I have had the privilege of following him for many years, having been struck—thunderstruck, I should say—by the beauty, depth, and mystery of his works during a long-ago exhibition held at the Pushkin Museum in Moscow.
Thus, I perfectly remember that imposing canvas, now part of the Accademia del Disegno's collection, standing on the easel in his studio, which I never failed to visit during my trips to Paris. Zaborov would show it to me, speaking about how his project was evolving, always under the powerful impression of Florentine architecture, the chromatic palette of its marbles and frescoes, and the painting of Piero della Francesca—who, along with Masaccio, deeply represented Florence to him. And what a thrill it was to admire this work, to which he dedicated himself until the final days of his existence, at the center of the retrospective Boris Zaborov – Painting Memory, held at the Maison Caillebotte in Yerres last year. Of his own life, he wrote:
"...casting a piercing glance at what I have lived through against the backdrop of a terrible era, I must consider my life a happy one."
And this very brief quote, taken from the book Impasse Poule, 13 (the address of his magical Parisian atelier), connects, albeit indirectly, to Florence and Italian art, which played a fundamental role in Boris Zaborov's creative journey. It was no coincidence that he, about whom I had written extensively over the years, asked me to translate his autobiography from Russian into Italian. At first, it surprised me; it seemed strange that he hadn't first thought of a French version, the language of his adopted country. But then, page after page, and especially in the final section, largely dedicated to Florence and his relationship with the city—suffused with deep reflections, memories, and the emotions of a man for whom "the turn has come to look death in the eye"—I fully understood his choice, which was non-conformist as always. Renaissance art and the Florentine figurative tradition had been the cornerstones of his training and subsequent artistic journey; therefore, Italian was the language in which he urgently needed to transmit his story, his thoughts, and the profound meaning of his creation.
As he wrote to the President of the Accademia, Cristina Acidini—who, alongside Carlo Francini, superintendent of the Florentine Municipal Museums, and Giovanna Giusti, attended the handover ceremony of Hommage à Florence—his love:
"...developed over decades, in a strange, not always explainable way. This Florentine story of mine played an extremely important role in my personal history, even giving rise to the idea of painting a work titled Hommage à Florence."
A work that, finally, just as Boris Zaborov strongly wished, has found its place in that prestigious Accademia del Disegno, founded by Giorgio Vasari 450 years ago. The Academy welcomed him among its members, binding him forever to Florence—a city that:
"...attracts. She resembles an enchanted princess. Incomprehensible and mysterious... Eras succeed one another, but your beauty does not wither. On the contrary, its blooming is directly proportional to humanity's plunge into the black hole of spiritual and professional nothingness."
