While I was overseas earlier this month, I had the opportunity to visit the Tate Modern, an international contemporary art museum in the heart of London recommended to me by my colleague Travis McCleery. The Tate Modern is part of a family of 4 Tate galleries, and displays selections from the Tate Collection from 1900 onward. I was particularly drawn to an exhibit in the States of Flux wing, which displays art from the early twentieth-century movements Cubism, Futurism and Vorticism.

I walked into the room and was immediate struck by the enormity and completeness of the exhibit condensed into one space. At first I wondered why it wasn’t spaced out into several rooms, but the effect was exactly what I think they’d envisioned. It wasn’t about any particular individual piece, but about the idea as a whole (though I did have some favorites). Presenting the pieces all together allowed me to jump from piece to piece and notice the similarities between them. So many different styles were used, from illustration, photography, drawing, typographical – yet none of them felt out of place.

From the Tate Modern website:

The ideals and illusions of the Russian Revolution and the Soviet Union are reflected in this display of street posters.

“Ten Days that Shook the World” was how the American journalist John Reed described the 1917 October Revolution. The disasters of the First World War had led to the collapse of the Tsar’s autocracy. Promising peace and the re-distribution of land, Lenin’s Bolshevik Party seized power. Supported by militant soldiers, workers and peasants, they declared the world’s first Communist state.

To win support for their ideas, the Bolsheviks took control of the printing presses. Despite a shortage of supplies and equipment, they rapidly produced newspapers, leaflets and posters. This proliferation of colourful propaganda posters transformed towns and cities, creating a street art available to all. The continual renewal of images, as well as multiple copies pasted up together, reinforced the fundamental messages of communal power and solidarity. Lenin and the Bolshevik leaders were portrayed as heroically unifying, while their enemies in the Civil War were reviled.

After Stalin became leader in 1927, the propaganda machine promoted the collectivisation of land and the drive for industrialisation, oblivious to the terrible hardships caused by these policies. Stalin’s benevolent image was everywhere, but it barely masked the terror of the show-trials and executions that blighted the 1930s. The revolutionary fervour conveyed through the early posters now enforced a repressive dictatorship.

The ideas and illusions conveyed in these posters were far from reality. However, the posters themselves became part of the texture of everyday life in the Soviet Union, and reflect the officially approved history as it was experienced by its citizens.

The posters featured the color red prominently, reinforcing the influence and power of “The Red Army”.

As a form of street art, these posters were designed to engage everyday citizens with powerful imagery and cultivate a certain perception of political leaders. The last decade or so has seen a resurgence of this style both for political propaganda and general art inspiration. What makes this form of art so powerful (if done correctly) is that you are influenced by it regardless of whether you know its purpose. It has both a psychological effect from repetition and consistency, and it transforms people and ideas into icons. Grassroots movements love icons, as they give supporters something visual and memorable to identify with. And there’s no denying that designers and artists love icons. Political propaganda is a communication artform, there’s no reason it needs to be crappy. In fact, there’s myriad reasons why it should be thoughtfully considered.

If you happen to be in London in the near future, be sure to stop by the Tate Modern. It won’t disappoint.

Obama posters (1 & 2) by Shepard Fairey