Ivan's Capture

In 1937, Ivan made the thousand mile pilgrimage to Leningrad from Belaya Glina to study art.

While attending the Art Academy (1937-41), there were many times he went without shoes or overcoats. Soup and an occasional piece of bread were his meals, and more times than not, he went completely without food. Housing was shared with 6-8 other students in one room, with most of them sleeping on the floor.

Upon completion of Ivan’s studies at the Repin Academy in the late spring of 1941, Ivan took a job as interior decorator in the resort city of Petrozavodsk, located a few miles northeast of Leningrad. Unknown to him, his stay there was to be extremely short-lived.

On June 22, 1941, Adolf Hitler’s armies invaded the Soviet Union and the siege of Leningrad ensued. Along with hundreds of thousands of other Slavic people, Ivan Garikow was taken prisoner. Along with many others,he was considered to be an “untermench” (sub-human). These people were designated to be exterminated as undesirables by the Nazi regime.

Ivan Garikow's Bio -- Early Ivan

On June 12, 1918, in the village of Belaya Glina, located in the county of Krasnodar, in the Russian Soviet Federated Socialist Republic of the Soviet Union, Ivan Ivanovitch Garikow was born. He was the fourth child of six (five brothers and one sister) born to Anna (Nechaikina) and Ivan Garikow.

World War I had ended but civil war continued to rage throughout Russia. After Lenin’s takeover of the Russian government became a reality, Joseph Stalin’s ascension to power soon followed. Stalin implemented numerous purges upon the Russian people; victimizing, ostracizing and executing millions of anticommunist dissidents. Through all of this turbulence, Ivan spent his youth on a horse ranch and attended elementary school.

Near the completion of his elementary school education, his artistic ability was noticed, and Ivan was sent to painter’s school. At age eighteen, he submitted his art work for consideration to the Repin Academy of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture in Leningrad. Ivan was granted admission as a student of the Repin Academy.

Repin Academy remains the most prestigious art school in the former Soviet Union (Russian Federation) and is currently part of St. Petersburg State University which previously known as Leningrad State University. Built by Peter the Great, the construction of the school was started in 1706 and completed in 1741. The school is located inside the Petropavloskaya Fortress. The Fortress was built on a small island on the Neva River. This was the start of St. Petersburg.

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The Death of Ivan

After that trip to Philadelphia, it was business as usual. Arnie and I remained active in the theatre for a few years until we decided to each go our separate way. I remained in York county with my teaching and coaching career, and A.J. headed south to Orlando where he worked the dinner-theatre circuit for some time.

We kept in contact by phone once every few months or so-- when Arnie remembered to call me which was usually after a night of drinking. I never had a phone number for him or an address. I think he initially stayed with a relative. He was a drifter so to speak.

The last time we talked, he called to tell me his father Ivan had died. The miles between us prevented me from helping Arnie during this time. I wanted to but didn't know how.

I asked him what he wanted me to do. He didn't know. That was the last I heard from him 1982.


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Inside Garikow's Home/Art Studio

As I waited for Arnold outside, I was happy it was still daylight. His three story row home was the only remaining structure on the block. That demolished city block in Philadelphia seemed symbolic of Ivan's impoverished life in Russia. It was not a good area to be in. Arnold told me his father had been robbed and some of his best paintings were taken. I was glad when the door opened and I was invited in.

It was dark inside. Arnie and his dad spoke Russian as I was introduced to him. Both men laughed as Ivan slapped me on my back a few times. "He likes you," Arnie said. As I looked around the room it was cluttered with canvas' laying everywhere - oil painting upon oil painting without frames like a paupers flophouse. A few easel's positioned by the windows (his dad only painted by natural light). It was Ivan's home in America.

I was shown a few of Arnie's favorite paintings. I really didn't know much about fine art, but I could just tell that they were special. After an hour or so, the three of us walked to a tavern for something to eat. Observing father and son enjoying each other's presence was a genuine joy for me. My father and I never once enjoyed such a reunion. At the bar, Ivan ate soup and bread. Everyday - That's all he ever ate. Arnie said, "That's all he ever got in the Nazi concentration camp."

He was missing some teeth, but so was Arnie.

Ivan wanted to get back to the house before dark. He was afraid of the night. We walked back to his home, said goodbye and Arnie and I left his father alone once again. That was probably one of the last times Ivan saw his son.

The visit didn't really mean alot to me, but it meant the world to Ivan and his son. Little did I know that I had broken bread with a renowned and listed artist. Arnie knew the greatness of his father's talent...Now years later, I am learning what an honor I had that day...


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How I Met Ivan Garikow

My father died December 3, 2007. During the days that followed I remembered a time in my life when one of my best friends lost his father. He, too, was an only child.

I had lost contact with Arnie years ago, decades ago. We had worked together during the 1970's when we formed a theatre company, The Andromeda Players, in south central Pennsylvania. We operated two dinner-theatre's and had a touring ensemble that did one-act plays on the road.

Arnie was my Set designer and Technical director. His art work was incredible. We had a great relationship both personally and professionally. Arnie had told me that his father was a noted Russian artist who was living in Philadelphia.

In time, I learned more about Arnie's dad, Ivan. In fact, I met him once. I'll never forget that visit to Philly. Arnie had told me that his dad spoke little English, and I had to stay outside until Arnie explained to Ivan that I was a friend. Soon, I was invited into his home...

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