If one were to plant woods here,' Chichikov said, 'the view would be more beautiful than - ' 'Oh, so you're an admirer of fine views, are you?' said Kostanjoglo with a sudden stern look at him. 'Let me tell you, if you start chasing after views, you'll be left without bread and without views ... Never mind beauty! Concentrate on the things that matter Beauty will come of its own accord.' Nikolai Gogol, Dead Souls, 1842 'Beauty will come of its own accord.' This could be the epitaph for Ukrainian photographer Boris Mikhailov, and should probably conclude rather than open an essay about the former Soviet Union's most influential living photographer. Few of his pictures could be called visually 'beautiful' (although some are), but they have an unexpected quality of poetic or intellectual beauty that results 'of its own accord' from his art. What remains consistent across Mikhailov's work, the key to following its potentially mystifying variation, is his singular ethical purpose. The vision and courage he has sustained since the 1960s, spanning the long, hard road from Khruschev to Putin, result in this subtle beauty. The beauty of his integrity and his indomitable imagination are the most lasting impressions left by Mikhailov's art.
