More than three decades after promising Russian émigré artist Vladimir Kotlyarov-Tolsty an exhibition, art historian Regina Khidekel has finally fulfilled her commitment. At Columbia University’s Harriman Institute in New York, ‘The Last Avant-Garde’ revisits the artist’s extraordinary world of mail art, performances and correspondence, exploring his philosophy of vivrism, in which art and life were inseparable.

It has taken more than three decades for art historian Regina Khidekel to fulfil a promise she made to Russian émigré artist Vladimir Kotlyarov-Tolsty (1937–2013) when they met in Paris in 1990. She had promised to organise an exhibition of his work, but it never came to fruition. Now, more than a decade after the artist’s death, that promise has finally been honoured with ‘The Last Avant-Garde: Kotlyarov-Tolsty’s Vivrism in Mail Art and Letters’, an exhibition at Columbia University’s Harriman Institute in New York. “One day I realised, my God, Tolsty died more than ten years ago, and I had promised him an exhibition back in 1990!,” Khidekel recalled. “I decided it was finally time to do it.”

Khidekel began revisiting the works and correspondence she had preserved over the years. Among them was a letter from Tolsty to Elena Shchapova, the former wife of writer Eduard Limonov, written while Limonov was in prison. The letter concerned efforts to raise money for his legal defence. “It was a very interesting subject, showing how a story can start in the art world and end up in politics,” Khidekel noted.

Organising the material proved challenging. Letters, photographs, posters and works of mail art had accumulated over decades, with little attempt at systematic organisation. Khidekel began by bringing them together in an exhibition catalogue, which subsequently became the basis for the show.

When Khidekel first met Kotlyarov-Tolsty in Paris, many Russian artists living abroad were seeking opportunities to exhibit their work in the Soviet Union, which was gradually opening up to the West. Tolsty was among them. “He was a fascinating person,” Khidekel recalled.

Vladimir Kotlyarov, known as Tolsty, meaning “fat” in Russian, was a performance artist who made his own body an integral part of his artistic practice. He would throw paint onto large canvases before using his body to create images. He called these performances visuances, a term he coined by combining the words “visual” and “séance”. Tolsty also founded an artistic movement he called vivrism, derived from the French verb vivre, meaning “to live”. At its heart was the belief that art and life were inseparable. “For him, every moment of life was art. Everything he did was art, whether it involved him personally or other artists from his circle,” Khidekel explained.

Tolsty also practised mail art, an artistic movement that emerged in the early 1960s from Fluxus, Nouveau Réalisme and Conceptual art. American artist Ray Johnson (1927–1995) was among its pioneers, establishing a network known as the New York Correspondence School. Mail art soon evolved into an international network of artists exchanging drawings, collages and other works through the postal system. In Eastern Europe and Latin America, it also provided an alternative means of artistic expression and communication beyond state-controlled channels.

For Khidekel, mail art held particular significance in the context of the late Soviet period. “It was a time when Russia was opening up again. It was still the Soviet Union, but new connections were emerging. People were beginning to travel. Somehow, mail art symbolized that historical moment.”

Although Tolsty did not invent mail art, Khidekel believes he took it to another level. He transformed envelopes into elaborate collages, drawing on avant-garde techniques and often incorporating references to contemporary events. Yet Tolsty’s mail art was more than a decorative exercise. The envelopes contained letters, photographs and posters, functioning simultaneously as works of art and as ordinary correspondence. “I also like mail art because it’s optimistic. It’s very close to real life. It’s not pretentious. It’s something that everybody can do,” she said. “Although it’s better when artists do it, I should say, because these works are really impressive.”

Other artists, including Vagrich Bakhchanyan (1938–2009) and members of the Leningrad-based Mitki group, also took part in Tolsty’s projects. He met the Mitki in Paris in 1989, during their European tour. Known for their absurdist humour and performances, the group shared Tolsty’s belief that an artist’s personality and way of life were as important as the art they produced. The encounter gave rise to a series of collaborative collages titled ‘Mitkism in Vivrism’. Created primarily as mail art, these works forged a connection between the Leningrad underground and the Russian émigré art scene in Paris, transcending geographical and political boundaries.

In the late 1990s, Tolsty developed another artistic practice, which he called money art. He transformed banknotes with drawings, text and tiny dots of pure colour, recalling the technique of Pointillism.

The exhibition also features photographs documenting Tolsty’s visuances, showing the artist covered in paint and water, alongside images of him and his wife putting up posters.

Tolsty described himself as “an actor in real life, a boxer on screen, a hero in reverse”. Before leaving the Soviet Union in 1979, he even installed a memorial to himself in a Moscow cemetery, inscribed with the dates 1937–1979, as though his departure from the country marked a symbolic death.

After emigrating, Tolsty continued to stage provocative performances. In Rome in 1981, he performed one of his visuances at the Trevi Fountain, painting his body in different colours and shouting, “Save the Pope! Save the Pope!” Nine days later, an assassination attempt was made on Pope John Paul II. The coincidence drew attention to Tolsty, who acquired a reputation among some observers for predicting future events.

Tolsty also pursued an acting career, appearing in dozens of films, including Le Brasier (The Blaze, 1991), the directorial debut of Éric Barbier, and Queen Margot (1994), starring Isabelle Adjani.

Khidekel preserved six envelopes sent to her by Tolsty, whose correspondence with her largely concerned the exhibition they hoped to organise.

“He very much wanted to have one,” she recalled. “He was very meticulous. He loved writing and playing with words. He was a good writer as well.”

The exhibition also draws on materials provided by Tolsty’s widow, Lyudmila, whom he met in Udmurtia before leaving the Soviet Union. Before emigrating, Tolsty had worked in several fields, including art restoration and television. Lyudmila, who had studied art history in Leningrad, became both his wife and artistic collaborator. She played an important role in bringing the exhibition together, providing Khidekel with documents and information about her late husband. “I'm very happy that she is still alive to see it,” Khidekel said.