Why people don’t like Ilya Glazunov. Ilya Glazunov never revealed the secret of his wife’s death Ilya Glazunov personal life

On July 9, it became known that the artist Ilya Glazunov had died at the age of 88. His work raised many questions, art connoisseurs grimaced and said that his work had nothing to do with real painting - they say, it is “semi-surrogate realism and escheat eclecticism.”

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But the artist’s relatives discussed completely different things. “Ilya Glazunov died... the mysterious and tragic history of our family was connected with him,” the artist’s great-great-granddaughter Yulia Goncharova wrote on her social network page. “Nina Vinogradova-Benoit, my grandfather’s cousin, married a then unknown young artist ", when she was 18. Her parents considered the marriage a misalliance. But somehow they lived together for 30 years... until Nina committed suicide."

“In our family, a completely different version was always voiced quite harshly. And that’s it, all the relatives on my grandfather’s side stopped communicating with Glazunov after the funeral... I tried to get at least some details, but the topic turned out to be enchanted - closed for discussion once and forever. I wrote an SMS to my mother today: Ilya Glazunov has died. I received an answer: the Lord’s millstones are grinding slowly but surely..." continues Yulia.

What kind of tragedy happened in the family? On September 22, 1986, Glazunov’s personal exhibition was to open in the Leningrad Manege. And the day before, terrible news spread around the capital: the master’s wife, Nina Vinogradova-Benoit, had died. Her lifeless body was found under the windows of the workshop of the famous “Mosselprom house” in Kalashny Lane. They said that due to an incurable illness, her mind could become clouded and she decided to commit suicide.

According to another version, Nina was “helped” to fall out of the window... But the woman’s death remained a mystery. As well as why she put on a hat before the jump. Although there is an explanation for this fact: Nina was afraid that her husband would see her disfigured face.

“Six months later, from the 83rd police station they will bring me her wedding ring with a cardboard tied to it - on the tag it was written in pencil: Nina Aleksandrovna Vinogradova-Benoit, born in 1936, died on May 24, 1986... They hit me - they hit me into her. Through the black fog of grief, I barely remember those terrible days of her death... Why wasn’t her wedding ring given to me for six months?” – Glazunov himself recalled many years later.

Nina, a representative of the illustrious Benois family, being a talented costume designer and art critic, abandoned her career to serve as a painter. In difficult times, she even donated her blood to buy her husband paints for his work. It was said about Glazunov that the young artist “clung to” the famous name in order to enter the world of art.

By the way, he was, as gossipers say, far from an ideal family man - he changed women every now and then. And Nina kept repeating: “To be creative, he needs to constantly be in a state of love.” In 1969, a son, Ivan, was born into the family, and three years later, a daughter, Vera, was born. But the artist did not settle down...

There is probably no answer to the question of what happened in the center of Moscow on a May day in 1986. Perhaps only Glazunov knew him. And he took this terrible secret to the grave...

Ilya Sergeevich Glazunov is a Soviet and Russian painter, head of the Russian Academy of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture I. S. Glazunov, academician of the Russian Academy of Arts, People's Artist of the USSR. Ilya was born on June 10, 1930 in Leningrad in the family of a historian and economist, teacher at Leningrad State University Sergei Fedorovich Glazunov and the daughter of an actual state councilor Olga Konstantinovna Flug. At an early age, the boy studied at an art school, then entered an art school on the Petrograd side.

During the war, he remained in the besieged city with his parents. Of all his immediate relatives, only Ilya survived, and in 1942 the teenager was sent along the Road of Life to the rear - to the village of Greblo in the Novgorod region. After returning to Leningrad in 1944, Ilya went to study at a secondary art school at the Institute of Painting. In 1951 he entered the workshop of Professor Boris Ioganson at the LIZHSA named after.

Painting

In 1956, the young artist participated in an international competition in Prague, where he received first prize for his portrait of Resistance Movement member Julius Fučík. In the same year, the first graphic cycle “Rus” was written, dedicated to the history of the Russian land. During his student years, he began working on a graphic series about a modern city. Starting with lyrical sketches - “Two”, “Tiff”, “Love” - the artist delved into the topic of urbanization of the space around a person.

Painting by Ilya Glazunov from the series "Rus"

The diploma work “Roads of War,” which depicted the retreating Red Army in 1941, received a low score. The canvas was destroyed as not corresponding to Soviet ideology, but years later the author made an exact copy of the painting. According to the assignment, Ilya Glazunov went to Izhevsk as a teacher of drawing and trigonometry, and then transferred to Ivanovo. Soon the artist settled in Moscow.

Painting by Ilya Glazunov "Roads of War"

Ilya Glazunov's first exhibition took place after graduating from the academy in early 1957 in the Moscow Central House of Artists. The exhibition consisted of four artistic cycles by Glazunov – “Images of Russia”, “City”, “Images of Dostoevsky and Russian classics”, “Portrait”. Ilya Glazunov created his early works in an academic style, but some paintings - “Ada”, “Nina”, “The Last Bus”, “Two”, “Loneliness”, “Pianist Dranishnikova”, “Giordano Bruno” - are marked by the influence of impressionism.

Ilya Glazunov at work on the painting "The Awakened East"

In 1958, Glazunov met a Soviet poet who began to help the young artist. In 1959, Ilya Sergeevich worked on portraits of writers and actors: Sergei Mikhalkov, Boris Slutsky, Maya Lugovskaya,. In the 60s, the work of Ilya Glazunov was noted by the country's party leadership, and the artist began to receive orders to create portraits of top officials of the state. The painter also traveled abroad.

Portraits of celebrities by Ilya Glazunov

Among the celebrities whose portraits Ilya Sergeevich worked on were politicians, writers, filmmakers, artists:, cosmonaut Vitaly Sevastyanov,. In 1964, an exhibition of Glazunov took place in the office premises of the Manege. From the same year, Ilya Sergeevich headed the Rodina patriotic education club, and a year later he participated in the creation of the All-Russian Society for the Protection of Historical and Cultural Monuments.

In 1967 he was admitted to the Union of Artists of the USSR. In the mid-60s he published the book “The Road to You. From the artist's notes" of an autobiographical nature. Since the 60s, Ilya Sergeevich has been regularly working on creating illustrations for the works of Russian writers:, Pavel Melnikov-Pechersky,.

Illustration by Ilya Glazunov for Dostoevsky's novel "The Idiot"

The author’s first significant paintings became famous: “Mr. Veliky Novgorod”, “Russian Song”, “The City of Kitezh”, and the cycle “Kulikovo Field”. Continuing to replenish his own gallery, the artist created a number of portraits of historical characters - “”, “The Legend of Tsarevich Dimitri”, “Prince Oleg and Igor”, “”, “”. Since the late 70s, the master has turned to large-scale canvases and created world-famous epic paintings - “The Mystery of the 20th Century”, “Eternal Russia”, “The Great Experiment”, “The Defeat of the Temple on Easter Night”. In 1978 he began teaching at the Moscow Art Institute.

Painting by Ilya Glazunov "Mystery of the 20th century"

In 1980 he received the title of People's Artist of the USSR. In 1981, with the support of the Ministry of Culture of the RSFSR, he created the Museum of Decorative, Applied and Folk Art. In 1985, director A. Rusanov shot the film “Ilya Glazunov” at the Central Documentary Film Studio, dedicated to the artist’s work. In 1986, Glazunov became the founder of the Russian Academy of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture.

Glazunov was involved in stage design for theater and opera productions: “The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia” at the Bolshoi Theater, “Prince Igor” and “The Queen of Spades” at the Berlin Opera, and the ballet “Masquerade” at the Odessa Opera House. In the early 90s, he supervised the restoration work of the Moscow Kremlin buildings - the Alexander and Andreevsky State Halls of the Grand Kremlin Palace and the 14th building. In 1997, Ilya Glazunov was awarded the State Prize of the Russian Federation.

Stage designer Ilya Glazunov of the ballet "Masquerade" at the Odessa Opera House

In 2004, the Moscow State Gallery of Ilya Glazunov was opened, which housed more than 300 paintings by the master. In 2008, the artist released the second of his books, “Crucified Russia,” which was based on reflections on the fate of the country and essays from his own biography. In the 2000s, the paintings “Dekulakization”, “Expulsion of Traders from the Temple”, “The Last Warrior”, and the self-portrait “Spring Again” appeared.

Painting by Ilya Glazunov "Expulsion of traders from the Temple"

In 2012, Ilya Sergeevich became a trustee. One of the minor planets was named after Glazunov. Ilya Glazunov is the owner of four Orders of Merit for the Fatherland. The Russian Orthodox Church awarded the artist twice: in 1999 it was awarded the Order of the Venerable, and in 2010 - the Order of the Venerable. In 2010, an anniversary exhibition of the master’s works was held in the Manege “Artist and Time”.

At the beginning of June 2017, the Museum of Estates was opened, which is located in the wing of the Ilya Sergeevich gallery. On three floors there are exhibitions of household items, documents and photographs related to the classes of pre-revolutionary society: the nobility, the peasantry and Orthodoxy. The basis of the exhibition was made up of ancient icons that Ilya Glazunov managed to collect in Soviet times from different parts of the country, as well as paintings by Russian artists - Nesterov, Kustodiev.

The author’s last paintings were the completed “The Rape of Europe” and the unfinished paintings “Russia before the Revolution” and “Russia after the Revolution”. On the artist’s official website you can see a retrospective of his work, literary works, family and work photographs.

Personal life

In 1956, the wedding of Ilya Glazunov and Nina Aleksandrovna Vinogradova-Benoit took place. The wife of an art academy graduate also studied to become a painter. Subsequently, Nina Alexandrovna helped her husband in the design of many canvases, as well as in creating scenography for opera performances.

The children of Ilya Glazunov - Ivan and Vera - followed in the footsteps of their parents and both became artists. The son received the title of Honored Artist of the Russian Federation and became famous for creating the painting “Crucify Him!”, and the daughter gained fame after painting the canvas “Grand Duchess Elisaveta Feodorovna before her execution in Alapaevsk.”

Ilya Glazunov and second wife Inna Orlova

In 1986, Nina Aleksandrovna died under unclear circumstances, although the investigation insisted on the version of suicide. The loss of a loved one was a big blow for Ilya Sergeevich. The artist immersed himself in creativity and social work for many years, leaving his personal life aside. In the late 90s, Glazunov met Inna Orlova, who later became the master’s second wife and also took the post of director of the Glazunov Gallery.

Death

July 9, 2017. The cause of death was heart failure. The artist’s relatives received official condolences in connection with the death of Ilya Sergeevich from President V. Putin, as well as from the House of Romanov.

The funeral was held according to the Orthodox rite. The farewell to the master took place on the territory of the Sretensky Monastery, the funeral service took place in the Epiphany Cathedral in Yelokhov. The artist's grave is located at the Novodevichy cemetery.

Paintings

• "Roads of War" - 1957
• Cycle “Kulikovo Field” - 1980
• "Farewell" - 1986
• "Eternal Russia" - 1988
• "The Great Experiment" - 1990
• "My Life" - 1994
• “Mystery of the 20th Century” - 1999
• “Destruction of the Temple on Easter Night” - 1999
• "Decline of Europe" - 2005
• “And Spring Again” - 2009
• “Expelling the merchants from the temple” - 2011

After the funeral of Nina Vinogradova-Benoit, her relatives stopped communicating with the artist.

On July 9, Ilya GLAZUNOV passed away. “Today at 6.03 our dear father and grandfather died... We ask for your prayers for the newly deceased servant of God Elijah,” wrote his daughter Vera. Ilya Sergeevich died of heart failure. In the last year the artist has been sick a lot. They talked about a serious chronic illness, which, however, relatives tried not to talk about. Right now, on the ninth day after death, the soul of this man appeared for worship before the Almighty. Now only God is his judge - and all we can do is pray for mercy for the deceased.

He passed away at the age of 87, being a believer. He wrote on biblical subjects, saved icons, collecting a wonderful collection. Ilya Glazunov I looked for them everywhere. I saw the 16th century icon “St. Nicholas in the Life” on a trip to the North near Solvychegodsk, in a ruined church converted into a machine and tractor station. The holy image was written on an old board over which the engine stood. The artist looked for items of church utensils in antique stores and flea markets, including the famous Izmailovsky market. Together with my wife Nina Vinogradova-Benoit restored them, then entrusted this task to familiar restorers.

Son Ivan (left) with his wife, daughter Vera (third from right), GLAZUNOV’s wife Inessa ORLOVA (right), grandchildren during farewell to Ilya Sergeevich

But for all his appeal to God, he was not a saint - the virtues in the artist’s soul coexisted closely with vices. This earthly, sinful side of Glazunov’s life is connected primarily with women, whom he knew quite a few. On the day when news of the master’s death became known, his great-great-great-cousin Yulia Goncharova shared something very personal.

Ilya Glazunov died... the mysterious and tragic history of our family was connected with him. Nina Vinogradova-Benoit, my grandfather’s cousin, married a then unknown young artist when she was 18. Her parents considered the marriage a misalliance. But somehow they lived together for 30 years... until Nina committed suicide. In our family, a completely different version was always voiced quite harshly. And all the relatives on my grandfather’s side stopped communicating with Glazunov after the funeral... I tried to get at least some details, but the topic turned out to be enchanted - closed for discussion once and for all. Today I sent my mother an SMS: Ilya Glazunov has died. I received the answer: the millstones of the Lord are grinding slowly but surely...

The tragedy that Yulia is talking about happened in 1986 - the day before the opening of Glazunov’s personal exhibition. The artist's wife jumped out of the window.

The funeral ceremony for the People's Artist of the USSR was conducted by the vicar of the patriarch, Bishop of Yegoryevsk Tikhon SHEVKUNOV

Nina: love and patience

Nina often appeared in her husband’s paintings - beautiful and always sad. After the tragedy, someone will talk about the bad fate of the heroes depicted in the paintings. But in the beginning there was love - strong to the point of self-sacrifice. Glazunov recalled:

One day I ran out of paint. There was no money, and then Nina came and, like a good fairy, held out the bag: “Here are the paints. My parents gave me money.” A few days later, a green ticket fell out of her passport. I read on it: “Donor’s lunch.” My wife sold her blood and exchanged it for paints!

Officially, he was married only once. Nina Aleksandrovna Vinogradova-Benois, an art critic and theater artist, came from a famous family that gave the world famous architects, sculptors and painters.

Glazunov was reproached: they say, he attached himself to a big name. The master didn’t care about gossip. He did not hide: Nina is the only woman with whom he wanted to have children. In 1969, the couple had a son, Vanya, and four years later, a daughter, Vera, was born.

Nina VINOGRADOVA-BENOIS

Why did everything end so badly? Nina was found under the windows of a workshop in the famous Mosselprom House on Kalashny Lane. There were rumors that the woman was terminally ill and that her mind was clouded due to this. But they also said something else: someone “helped” Nina fall out of the window. The deceased was wearing a fur hat - she allegedly put it on so that her husband would not see her broken face. But Ilya Sergeevich insisted: the hat was someone else’s, there was no such thing at home.

Six months later, from the 83rd police station they would bring me her wedding ring with a cardboard tied to it - on the tag it was written in a simple pencil: “Nina Aleksandrovna Vinogradova-Benoit, born in 1936, died on May 24, 1986...” They hit me - got into it. Through the black fog of grief, I barely remember those terrible days of her death... Why wasn’t her engagement ring given to me for six months? - Glazunov recalled.

On the window on the top floor of the very house where the accident occurred, a charcoal drawing was attached for a long time: a woman’s face on a white sheet. Most likely, it was a portrait of Nina. The only woman whom Ilya Sergeevich truly loved.

Larisa KADOCHNIKOVA, who was the master’s favorite model and muse, came to see him off on his last journey

Larisa: temptation and passion

They say that Vinogradova-Benoit knew about her husband’s many hobbies, but tried to convince herself that this was inevitable: an artist constantly needs a muse. And she herself pushed inspirational women towards her husband, who quickly ended up in his bed.

In 1957, at an exhibition of her husband’s paintings, she met a Soviet film star Nina Alisova with 18 year old daughter Larisa Kadochnikova.

What extraordinary eyes your girl has,” she admired. She introduced the young ladies to her husband and invited him to paint a portrait of Lara.

When the girl came to the workshop, Glazunov looked at her from all sides, and then pulled the cheap clips off her ears:

A strange oval, disturbing black eyes, suffering and making you suffer. Just what I was looking for. The heroines had such faces Dostoevsky…

He was plump, a little baggy, with amazing eyes. He had some kind of indescribable magnetism, Lara recalled.

From that moment on, she became not just Glazunov’s muse - she was his property, the whereabouts of which the increasingly popular artist had to know every minute. He burst into the VGIK classroom with flowers, where his beloved studied, and called endlessly. If Larisa was unable to come to the workshop, he would run to Dorogomilovka, where she lived, in the middle of the night:

Where have you been? With whom?

We were detained during the rehearsal of the performance.

Why didn't you call?

Did not make it.

You look scared... You're lying!

It all ended with Glazunov slamming the door and running out of the apartment in a rage. Larisa cried all night. And in the morning he called and asked for forgiveness. They made peace, and for some time Ilya calmed down. Then everything started all over again: where did you go, with whom, why?..

The painter and his wife Inessa often visited the flea market in Izmailovo...

This relationship lasted three years. Was Nina aware? Certainly.

“One day we crossed paths with her in the workshop,” said Kadochnikova. - Nina behaved naturally and friendly. “Does he really not know anything? - I thought. - But this is impossible! I wouldn’t be able to smile at my husband’s mistress...”

Nina turned a blind eye to his infidelities. And Glazunov was quite happy with the “free marriage”.

Larisa became pregnant. Hearing the news, Ilya just shrugged:

You can give birth, but I'm not ready to become a father.

Larisa’s mother invited Glazunov home:

You have to decide something. You can't mock a girl like that.

...where they found very valuable things

The artist said straight away:

I love Larisa. But there can be no talk of any marriage. I will never divorce my wife.

And Lara went for an abortion. That first time, everything could have been fixed. Kadochnikova quickly recovered, and even went to Crimea with Glazunov. Feeling guilty, Ilya was caring and gentle. But soon the nightmare repeated itself. Larisa became pregnant again and killed the child again. She was not destined to become a mother.

I continued to meet with Ilya for some time,” Larisa Valentinovna recalled. - It was no longer love, but some kind of obsession, hypnosis.

Finally they parted. They began to discuss something, got into an argument - and almost simultaneously said: “That’s it, that’s enough!”

I was told that shortly before our last date, Glazunov was summoned to the “competent” authorities and asked to decide on his personal life,” Kadochnikova said. “He was planning an exhibition abroad, but only an artist with an impeccable reputation could be allowed to go there. So he decided.

After parting with the artist, Kadochnikova married twice and served for many years at the National Theater of Russian Drama. Lesya Ukrainka in Kyiv.

Coming Muses: Jealousy and Vanity

After Larisa, the master had many different admirers. The friends endured the difficult character of the genius as much as they could, used his money, and then disappeared. The artist kicked out one enchantress himself, having found her in bed with her own driver. Another former kept woman of the master recalled:

He was generous, he showered us with fur coats, cars, and trinkets. But very jealous. I once went to the dentist with Glazunov’s personal driver and got into a traffic jam. There were no mobile phones then. So, along the way, when the car stopped, I ran to call Ilya from the payphone and reported where I was. Nothing is needed here - neither his money nor himself. Thank God, Ilya Sergeevich let me go in peace.

Inessa ORLOVA

Inessa: mercy and peace

Until the last days of the master, she was next to him. Inessa Orlova- director of his art gallery on Volkhonka, 13. They met on the street - Inessa was going to the conservatory. Glazunov will later say that he was struck by her beautiful face.

I'm an artist, I want to draw you! - he exclaimed. He was over 60, she was 45, but his masculine charm, a kind of bohemianism, always present in his appearance, played a role. For more than 20 years, Inessa Dmitrievna surrounded him with attention, care and love.

I think she won’t betray me, I trust her completely, although I don’t trust anyone, especially women,” the master said shortly before his death.

Strokes for a portrait

• Ilya Sergeevich Glazunov born in Leningrad in 1930, graduated from the Repin Academic Institute of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture.
• His mother, Olga Flug, belonged to an ancient family that went back to the Czech Queen Lubusha, the founder of Prague. In the 18th century, one of her descendants, Gottfried Flug, came to St. Petersburg by invitation Peter I- teach fortification and mathematics.
• During the siege of Leningrad, the future artist lost almost his entire family. “My father died painfully hard. Wrapped in a coat, he lay on the bed and loudly, protractedly shouted on one note: “A-a-a-a!” The doctor later said that dad had an attack of hunger psychosis. Mom, trying to calm me down, repeated: “Don’t be afraid, Ilyusha. We all die". One day I opened the door to the next room and recoiled in horror when I saw two rats jumping off my aunt’s face,” Glazunov recalled.
• Ilya was saved from starvation by his uncle, his father’s brother, the chief pathologist of the North-Western Front. 12-year-old Ilyusha was taken to the Novgorod region. And my mother remained in the city. The boy received three letters from her. In April 1942, communication was interrupted forever.
• The first exhibition of the artist’s works took place in Moscow in 1957. His thesis, “Roads of War,” about the retreat of the Red Army, was banned as being contrary to Soviet ideology.
• He helped the artist open a gallery on Volkhonka, 13 Yuri Luzhkov. Having learned that the artist was being charged $300 thousand for renting halls in the Manege, the mayor roared: “They went wild!” - and stirred up a grandiose reconstruction.
• Since 1987, Glazunov served as rector of the Russian Academy of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture.

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Three years of humiliation and two abortions. This is what actress Larisa Kadochnikova received after she became Ilya Glazunov’s mistress at the age of 18. Larisa told about her story in the new issue of the magazine “Caravan of Stories”. In particular, she described her first meeting with the artist in 1957. She was a student then, he was already a well-known “art worker.” Somehow, casually, Glazunov invited the girl to pose a little for him. She agreed.

In vain women are surprised: “I had no idea that he would be so cruel.” A dictator usually reveals himself immediately, almost from the first minutes. So Glazunov, first of all, pulled off her clips from a practically unknown girl - he declared that this was a deformity. Another would say: “What are you allowing yourself to do?” But Larisa even began to make excuses. All. Bingo! The sadist realized that he had found his victim. I understood, most likely unconsciously, intuitively. Skin. And she, a child who grew up without a father, I’m sure, realized that she had found “her man,” a daddy who knows everything, she obeyed and put her tail between her legs. Thus began three years of pandemonium. His control, dictatorial habits, the desire to remake her to his taste - she took all this classic behavior of “domestic tyrants” for love, although her friends constantly asked: “Why do you need this?”... And in parallel, another female tragedy developed - the artist’s wife.

...Glazunov sat me down on a stool and began to slowly examine me, like some kind of statue. I felt awkward. And I was wearing clip-on clips that day. Very fashionable, but cheap, plastic. Ilya winced when he saw them, pulled them from my ears and said irritably:
- What an ugliness! You can't wear that.
He suddenly switched to “you.”
“They are, of course, simple,” I began, but Glazunov interrupted:
- How don’t you understand! Modern crafts, rude and vulgar, are contraindicated for a face like yours... - I fell silent, and he continued in some incomprehensible delight: - A strange oval, alarming black eyes, suffering and making you suffer. Just what I was looking for. Dostoevsky’s heroines had such faces...

...Three hours flew by in a flash. I didn’t even notice when Ilya managed to draw me, and with difficulty I returned to reality. We started meeting almost every day. At first we just worked and talked - about literature, painting, history. Glazunov's knowledge in various fields of knowledge was amazing. I listened with my mouth open. And as soon as he called, she rushed to the workshop at the agreed time, fortunately there was no one to prohibit it. My mother left again, and my grandmother did not interfere in my affairs.

...One day we said goodbye after the session, and I went home by trolleybus. It took me quite a long time to get there and I thought about Ilya all the way. For some reason my heart felt uneasy. I entered the entrance, took the elevator to the third floor and was stunned - standing at our door was... Glazunov.
I got lost:
- How did you get here? For what?
- I don’t know myself. Suddenly I realized that I couldn’t part with you.
At that moment a spark ran between us. I felt like I had been hit by an electric current. She froze in sweet horror and thought: “Lord, this can’t be! I love him!" In some incomprehensible way, in just a few short meetings, this person became the closest and dearest to me on earth.

...I threw myself into an affair with Glazunov like into a pool. Before this I had no experience - just a couple of innocent school stories. I truly fell in love with Ilya, I could not live without him a single day. And he had a hard time getting along without me. If it was not possible to meet, he called ten times a day, came home or to the institute. He said that I was his muse. How many times has it happened: I’m sitting in class and suddenly the door opens - Ilya. All eyes immediately turn to him. The teacher grumbles with displeasure. And he, as if not noticing anything, calls: “Larissa! Larisa! I blush and show signs that I can’t go out. Ilya insists. There is nothing to do, I run out into the corridor. It turns out that my beloved was worried because he didn’t have time to talk to me on the phone in the morning, and during the day no one answered the phone.
- So what? - I am perplexed.
“You never know what could have happened,” Ilya hisses. - And in general, I have to know where you are and what you are doing, otherwise I can’t work!
- You know very well that I’m at the institute!
- So call during the break between classes! Tell me you miss me!
And I throw myself on his neck... He was so passionate and at the same time so gentle and caring! In a sense, Glazunov replaced my father, whose absence I felt so acutely from early childhood, and even... my mother. Because of her constant travel, we rarely had the opportunity to talk confidentially like women, to talk heart to heart.

...Glazunov said that art is the main meaning of his existence. And he worked around the clock. His days were scheduled minute by minute. I often heard: “N will come in at twelve. At one - they are waiting at the embassy. At three I go to the publishing house. Then - a session until the evening. We’ll meet at my place at eleven.” And try to forget or be late!

Portraits by Ilya Glazunov from different years: Brezhnev, Luzhkov.

...Ilya’s portraits delighted clients. Moreover, he wrote them in three to four hours! By the way, my beloved never gave me a single portrait - he believed that only the artist has the right to his work.
In those years I wore quite flashy makeup. She outlined her eyes with black pencil and smeared her lips with red lipstick. Glazunov praised me. I thought that I was painting in my own style - Dostoevsky's femme fatales. He said: “You definitely need to highlight your eyes and lips. The image becomes more expressive and dramatic.” But Ilya didn’t recognize the trousers I was wearing! They were absolutely not suitable for “Dostoevsky’s Woman.” I didn't argue. I did everything as Glazunov wanted. His charm extended not only to me. If he wanted, he could charm any woman. Later I found out that Glazunov’s wife Nina, while they were still in Leningrad, donated blood in order to buy paint for her beloved with the proceeds!

Left: Glazunov with his wife Nina and children, right: mistress Larisa.

...One day we crossed paths with her in the workshop. I was nervous: the novel between Glazunov and his daughter Alisova was discussed by all secular Moscow. But Nina behaved so naturally and friendly that bewilderment replaced anxiety. “Does he really not know anything? - I thought. - But this is impossible! I wouldn't be able to smile at my husband's mistress. She probably has a different temperament..."
Of course, everything was much simpler: Nina, who madly loved her husband, turned a blind eye to his infidelities, as long as he stayed with her. And Glazunov was quite happy with such a “free” marriage. He almost immediately made it clear that he would not leave his wife, although I didn’t even mention it. Only once did she mention that she had always dreamed of marrying for great love. Ilya looked at me like I was a complete idiot: “Marriage brings down a person’s creative aspirations. And our lives belong to art. And our relationship is above this outdated convention.”
At the same time, he openly took advantage of Nina’s kindness and self-sacrifice. After all, she was a very gifted artist, but she abandoned her own career for the sake of her beloved Ilyusha. She became not just his wife, but also a nanny, housekeeper, and secretary. Was it possible to exchange such a treasure for some kind of muse, of which Glazunov - both before and after me - had many.

...Theater director Anatoly Efros immediately grabbed onto me:
- Larisa, you should work in the theater. Such 100% hits as you achieved in this performance rarely happen.
- And Ilya thinks that I need to act.
- Well, then you’ll star in a hundred more films! Cinema will not escape you. But such roles may not exist in the theater.
- There is also a good role there. And the script is interesting. Ilya says we have to go.
- What have you done - Ilya and Ilya! It's time for you to live by your wits. And build your own career. Nothing will work out with Glazunov anyway.
- Did you all agree, or what? - I got angry. - Lately, all I hear from all sides is: Glazunov is so and so, get away from him. And you too! And in general, this is not your last performance. We'll still work.
“Okay, let’s rehearse “The Dreams of Simone Machar” by Bertolt Brecht,” Efros suggested. -You are absolutely perfect Simone.
- No, not now, after filming. I'll come and let's start.
But he didn't wait for me. I found Olga Yakovleva. And for many years she became the “main” actress of Anatoly Efros. And she - if not for my blind love for Glazunov - could have been me...

...Many people advised me to leave him, but I didn’t listen. And I wondered: why do these people dislike Ilya so much? At VGIK, some teachers and students simply couldn’t stand him. The guys from our company - Gena Shpalikov, Sasha Knyazhinsky, Yura Ilyenko - said that I was crazy, that I was wasting the best years of my life on a narcissistic and cruel person. I considered it jealousy and envy. Glazunov was handsome, charming, successful and famous. And his “critics” still had to prove what they were capable of.

...The girls sympathized with me:
- Lariska, you have become completely transparent with this artist. Skin and bones. He drained all your blood.
“Nonsense,” I fought back. - I just have such a constitution. And it’s not always possible to eat.
- Come on, what don’t we understand?!
But I really didn’t eat well.
I didn’t have breakfast in the morning, I didn’t feel like it, and then I sat in VGIK hungry until the evening. To grab some dried-out pie, you had to come to the buffet early and stand in a long line, for which there was neither time nor desire. Ilya, to whom I almost always went after classes, had no food. At best - tea with bagels or sandwiches. Glazunov did not deal with everyday life; he had Nina for that. She did not appear in the workshop with me. But I didn’t manage there.
She returned home at night and immediately fell into bed. To catch the first couple, we had to get up quite early. Being late or absenteeism was out of the question. Our master, Olga Ivanovna Pyzhova, mercilessly kicked out the careless students.

...I left for the filming of the film “Vasily Surikov”, so Ilya came rushing after me, fortunately we were based not far from Moscow. I played the artist’s first wife, Elizaveta Augustovna, who died of heart disease and transient consumption very young. Glazunov adored Surikov, considered himself an expert on him and tormented me with advice on how to play. Fortunately, he was not allowed onto the site, otherwise I simply would not have been able to work. She breathed a sigh of relief when he left for Moscow.
Cameraman Gavriil Egiazarov, who later became a director and shot many wonderful films, treated me like his daughter. At the beginning of filming, I remember everyone lamented that I looked bad:
- Well, where do I put these veins and bones? How to film you?
And he tried to influence me somehow:
- Larisa, find a good guy, free, young. Why do you need this married artist? He will drive you to your grave!
- And Ilya likes the way I look. The worse it is for him, the better.

Illustrations by Glazunov for the works of Dostoevsky.

...Glazunov made a scene for any reason. If I couldn’t escape to the workshop, I would run to Dorogomilovka in the middle of the night:
- Where have you been? With whom?
- We were detained during the rehearsal of the performance.
- Why didn’t you call?
- Did not make it.
-You have such a frightened look... You're lying!
- Ilya, listen...
- No, listen to me!
It all ended with Glazunov slamming the door and running out of the apartment in a rage, and I cried until the morning, unable to sleep. In the morning he usually called and asked for forgiveness. Or he came to VGIK during the day with a bouquet of flowers. We made peace, and for a while he calmed down. And then it all started all over again: where did you go, with whom, why?..

...Glazunov clearly believed that my life belonged to him, and kept it under constant control. What I once took for tender care turned out to be the jealous dictates of a capricious star. Sometimes I felt that Ilya deliberately aggravated the situation, creating mountains out of molehills. He turned himself and me on, and then, satiated with strong emotions, like a vampire with blood, he calmed down and apologized. It was not for nothing that he loved Dostoevsky so much; his heroes often did the same. And Glazunov tried to turn our relationship into some kind of “Dostoevshchina.”
Some people need to constantly quarrel and sort things out in order to keep the flame of love alive. Glazunov artificially created tension, thus fanning the creative “fire.” He liked to say: “For every moment of happiness and creative growth, one must pay with blood and suffering.” I don’t know about him, but I paid in full for my love...

I didn’t immediately realize that I was pregnant. Stomach problems had happened before, and I did not attach serious importance to the nausea that occurred every now and then. I took pills, but it didn’t go away. But a wild weakness appeared. Once I almost fell at the institute during a dance lesson. My head started spinning and my vision went dark. They barely managed to catch me. The girls decided that it was a hungry faint:
- Lariska, haven’t you eaten anything again?
- What kind of food is there when you feel sick all the time?
- Aren’t you craving something salty? - they laughed. - Are you pregnant by any chance? Go get checked.
I went. And I found out that I was having a child. I left the doctor in shock. I was just a girl and didn’t know what to do. I decided to consult with Ilya. He just shrugged his shoulders when he heard that he would become a father:
- So, what is next?
- Further? - I was surprised. - Pregnancy usually ends in childbirth.
- Do you want a child that much? - he, in turn, was surprised.
- What could be more beautiful than giving birth to a loved one?
“Of course, you can give birth,” he said, “but personally, I’m not ready to become a father.” Now this is completely inappropriate.
That's all. Do as you please.

...I don’t know what my mother was counting on when she invited Glazunov to us. What does he recognize as a child? Will he marry me? Ilya immediately said as he snapped:
- I don’t intend to get a divorce.
- What will happen to Larisa, Ilyusha? - Mom whined pitifully. - The girl will lose everything if she gives birth.
“Then let him have an abortion,” he answered just as harshly. - I already told Larisa, a child is not the time for me now. But, of course, it's up to you to decide. These are your women's affairs.
She still tried to pity him - to no avail. After Glazunov left, my mother said: “All men are equally cruel. Even brilliant ones." Ilya didn’t care what happened to me. In the life of the great artist he considered himself to be, there was no place for such annoying little things as the pregnancy of a muse.
Mom was terribly worried. And I didn’t understand what was happening at all. I felt so bad all the time! It's scary to remember. I suffered and suffered and went for an abortion.

...Life seemed to be getting better. We even went with Glazunov to Crimea, to Gurzuf. It was wonderful there. Sun, sea, fruit. In this paradise, even Ilya relaxed a little, became softer, more humane. But he still ran to the post office, called and sent telegrams. He was incorrigible. And soon after arriving from Gurzuf, I unexpectedly received a letter from Nina.
It turns out that while her husband and I were in Crimea, she was also on vacation somewhere, alone. She did not accuse either me or Ilya of anything. On the contrary, she absolved us of all our sins and admired me as a woman and a creative person. She wrote: “You are heaven. And I am the land on which Ilya walks. But he cannot do without either this firmament or this height. He needs us both." With this letter, she seemed to give permission for our romance. Nina also believed that an artist should have a muse. And recognizing me as this muse, she agreed to fade into the background. She dedicated her life to Glazunov. What did several years of my humiliations and insults mean compared to this sacrifice?! Did I feel guilty towards Nina? No, only reciprocal admiration for the breadth of her personality and views. I was very young, in love, which means I thought only about myself and my feelings.

...A few months later the nightmare repeated itself - I became pregnant again. And she was ready to howl with anguish, realizing that this child would also have to be killed. I couldn't have pulled it off alone. But Glazunov was still only interested in his work.
It was not possible to “slip” a second time. After the abortion, I was sick for a very long time, although it was performed by a good doctor. Problems began with the female side, I never became a mother...

...I continued to meet with Ilya for some time. It was no longer love, but some kind of obsession, hypnosis. For too long he hammered into my head that I should be with him and live only his life. I lived with it for three whole years. Some people already perceived Larisa Kadochnikova solely as Glazunov’s mistress. And we savored the details of our life with pleasure.

Larisa with Vyacheslav Tikhonov in the film "Midshipman Panin."

...Being pregnant for the second time, I starred with Mikhail Schweitzer and his wife Sofia Milkina in the film “Midshipman Panin.” The main role was played by Vyacheslav Tikhonov. I was a French dancer in a rather short but very effective episode. They made me up and dressed me amazingly. I still look and am surprised: how great I look! But it was difficult to hold on. The toxicosis, like the first time, was terrible.
I remember I arrived at the studio one day, got dressed, put on my makeup and went out into the corridor. I felt sick, I leaned against the door and heard the makeup artists gossiping:
-Have you seen the beauty? He can barely breathe. Pregnant. Do you know from whom? From the artist Glazunov.
- Yes, he seems to be married.
- So what? My wife knows. The three of them are in love. These young artists have no shame or conscience.
And suddenly Tikhonov’s voice was heard. He was still putting on makeup:
- Well, stop it right now! So that I never hear a single bad word about this woman again. Aren’t you ashamed to say this yourself?!

...Now my mother was persistently trying to persuade me to leave Ilya. She explained that in the last year you need to think about work and entering the theater, and not about love. I understood that she was right. Moreover, recently Glazunov had less and less time for me. He was wildly busy.

...I did not follow Glazunov’s life and work, but the news of the death of his wife Nina shocked me. I was struck by a terrible detail: Nina jumped out of the window wearing a fur hat. She didn’t want her husband to see her face disfigured for the last time. I felt so sorry for the woman who sacrificed everything for Glazunov, but obviously found no happiness, no meaning, no gratitude...

Ilya Glazunov is a supporter of the monarchy, class privileges and restrictions, an opponent of democracy and equality of rights. On February 9, 2012, he was officially registered as a proxy of the candidate for President of the Russian Federation and the current Prime Minister Vladimir Putin.

... About five years ago, one Russian TV channel began to pester me about starring in a program about Glazunov. Ilya and I agreed to photograph me in his gallery. He promised to participate too. We arrived at Volkhonka, I began to pose near the paintings, but Glazunov was still not there. An assistant came up who had been working with Ilya for a long time and knew me.
- Larisa, you haven’t changed much, you’ve only gained a little weight, but in principle you’ve remained the same.
-Where is Ilya? - I asked.
- Oh, he has problems with his throat, they even had a minor operation. He will not come.

Larisa Kadochnikova.

I could hardly resist an ironic remark. And I was surprised to myself: is Glazunov really afraid to meet? Well, just think - we would talk, laugh, remember our youth. Still, the past is overgrown. Whatever it is, I don't hold it against him.
Much more often than any grievances and torments, I remember the happy hours and days that we spent together. I loved Ilya, admired his paintings and himself. Otherwise, I would not have been able to tolerate this complex and capricious genius for three years. Maybe because I suffered so much with him, I succeeded as an actress. Pyzhova was right - suffering is for good. They strengthen the soul.

THERE ARE MORE INTERESTING COMMENTS :)

“THE INTERNET IS A TRASH: I DON'T USE IT AT ALL. I AM DARK LIKE A PEASANT GRANDMOTHER FROM A PSKOV VILLAGE"

Ilya Sergeevich, you recently said that the President of Russia should be elected for 10 years - do you really think so?

I said? To be honest, I don’t remember where and when. No, I’m not refusing, maybe that was the point...

- I read about this on the Internet...

Oh, you know, the Internet is such a garbage dump: I don’t use it at all, I don’t know how. I am dark, like a peasant grandmother from a Pskov village or from Kanev, but can I finish the story that I started? - this is very important for Kyiv, and besides, I don’t think she is widely known.

So I’m sitting in Kanev with Rudolf Karklin, with my half-Russian, half-Latvian friend... Karl Marx, by the way, was absolutely anti-scientific when he asserted: “The history of all hitherto existing societies has been the history of struggle.” “classes”, but Benjamin Disraeli, being also a Jew, Prime Minister of Great Britain, reasoned correctly: “Race means everything, there is no other truth... No one can treat the racial principle with indifference, since it forms the key to history” - and with this key you can open all events, including ours today.

- Wise, yes. So, you are in Kanev...

Yes, I live there, autumn is already beginning... I won’t tell you how wonderful the people are there, and suddenly an old man comes up: “Sinku, are there any stars? I’ve been here for you for a long time.” “I’m from Leningrad,” I say, “I’m a student, here in practice.” - “Do you want us to tell you what no one knows?” Me: “I’ll be glad...” - and called him by his first name and patronymic (I don’t like it when people address him in a simple way: grandfather Stepan or grandfather Ivan). “The Axis,” he says, “if the Germans came, the Chekists came in large numbers, and they cleared everything away. They thought that the Germans or the UN-Ukrainians had taken away the mine with Taras Grigorovich, and I saw with my own eyes: they dug up the zinc mine with the end, and there - well, Shevchenko lay alive. They all jumped up in sight of her and buried Taras Grigorovich” - no one knows this, but I’ll finish the thought.

Photo Fotobank.ua

Of my third received for the exhibition in Kiev, I gave part of it to the restoration of the Shevchenko national reserve “Ta-ra-so-va mountain”, and when one day my friend Kirkevich came somewhere I was walking, and one Rukhovets member became agitated: “Are you talking about your Muscovite again? Who is he?!” Vitya asked him only one question: “Tell me, please, did at least one Ukrainian intellectual donate money for the restoration of Shevchenko’s me-mo-ri-a-la in Kanev?” He became sad: “Yes, Karbovanets (with emphasis on the second “a”. - D.G . ) didn’t give it to anyone!”, and Kirkevich told him: “And the Muscovite, as you call him, Glazunov listed so much.” There was a large amount of money there, because there were so many people at my exhibition, and I divided the proceeds due to me from the sale of tickets: for Kanev, for the restoration of the monument to Princess Olga, for the restoration of Stola-Pina’s grave. We found a cross from her - we buried it so as not to break it.

“THE PORTRAIT OF BREZHNEV, WHICH I WRITTEN, I SAW LATER IN THE PHOTO: GALYA BREZHNEV DANCES IN HIS BACKGROUND”

Your father, I know, fiercely hated the Bolsheviks and the Soviet regime, but why, pray tell, did you go to Moscow to bury Stalin?

Oh, this was a grandiose event, and I wanted to be a witness to it. After Stalin's death, we were gathered in the adjoining church at the building of the Academy of Arts on Universitetskaya na-be-r-ezhnaya, where once Vrubel's funeral service was held. Now there is a temple there again, and then there was a hall with a bust of Lenin, everyone performed, and my friend Vyrzhik, half-Pole, half-Ukrainian (Vyrzhikovsky, already deceased, was a wonderful landscape painter), cried: “Oh, Ilyukha, what will happen now without Stalin? We’ll be lost,” and I watched and remembered. Then Zhenya Maltsev (who was also a very good artist) went out into the street, the sky was dreary... But he and I didn’t react to all this. He said: “Well, old man, are new times coming?” I nodded: “They are coming,” and went to see the funeral, but saw only a square crowded with people - there was no way to get there myself...

- ...we didn’t hit, of course...

No, but I found there an image that still lives in my heart - a gray-haired girl. She had a face like that of the noblewoman Morozova, and only her eyes were burning: she walked so wary, she was afraid of me. Perhaps she just returned from exile... I wanted to ask if I could draw her, but I didn’t dare.

That’s how people were allowed to go to the coffin, but I wasn’t one of them, I went in vain, and then returned under a shelf in the train car. All the passengers sympathized with me and, when the controller came, they covered me with a newspaper - no, I don’t regret that I lost my temper...

In the apartment of Vitaly Alekseevich Korotich, I saw his huge, full-length portrait of him, covering the entire wall, by your brush, I know that you painted outstanding people of your time - Salvador Allende, Indira Gandhi, Federico Fellini, Urho Kalev Kekkonen, David Siqueiros, Gina Lollobrigida , Innokenty Smoktunovsky, Vitaly Sevastyanov, Alexey Kosygin, Mikhail Suslov, Andrei Gromyko, Nikolai Shchelokov...

Sergei Bondarchuk...

- ...but they offered to draw you Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev?

How persistent, but you can’t tell it in a few words. The fact is that Indira Gandhi invited me to paint her portrait - the first time Furtseva refused her, and Nalbandyan was sent instead of me.

Well, yes, Hero of Socialist Labor, laureate of the Lenin and twice Stalin Prizes, he also painted Stalin and almost the entire Politburo - he was a court painter...

He was called “the mountain sheep of our party” - Dmitry Arkadyevich was a good person, but he always voted against me. Darling - now there are no such artists (after all, he grew up at that school), but Indira Gandhi returned her portrait to him, saying: “I am not Armenian,” and he later exhibited this work, signing: “My own -t-ve-ness of the author.”

All of a sudden, they call me to the Ministry of Culture: “Get ready for India urgently.” Me: “Why? You haven’t let me in for two years now, there’s Nalbandyan.” - “Don’t you know? Leonid Ilyich is planning a historic visit to Delhi, and if your portrait of Indira Gandhi is successful, it will be presented to her as a gift.” I immediately got my bearings: “I won’t go without my wife,” but they never let us go together. They thought, apparently: I’ll rush off and that’s it, but then they realized that I’d never stay abroad.

For the first time, I was allowed to go with Ninochka - from cold Moscow, like into a Russian oven: a-a-a! - It’s so hot there! At the Soviet embassy, ​​the deputy ambassador met me, since the ambassador himself was in Moscow and, obviously, was preparing the historic visit of the head of the Soviet state. He began to lament: “Oh, how you are nex-ta-ti - just out of the blue. There's only about a minute left of time. This is no match for you - Nalbandyan himself spent a month fussing over her portrait - so she kicked him in the ass: I can imagine what will happen to you!” “Be calm, Comrade Deputy Ambassador,” I answer. - In 10 days, Indira Gandhi will invite you to her place and will fill your white suit with tears of delight - understand? Now don’t whine like a dog.” He was taken aback - indeed, it was impudence on my part, but that’s how it all happened: two weeks later Mrs. Gandhi called him to tell him that she was satisfied.

A very nice woman, smart, with a streak of gray in her hair. I asked: “Where are you from?” She: “I am from Kashmir of course” (“I am from Kashmir, of course”) - this is the Aryan part of India, the north.

In short, I was kicked home with Nina, to Moscow, and a week later Leonid Ilyich arrived, and Andrei Andreevich Gromyko told me, I even have a photo with him (copies): “We usually donate factories to India, planes and ships, she modestly thanks: “Thank you very much” - and that’s all, and when they brought in the portrait, I didn’t even imagine that this was possible! - she flushed like a girl.” A large portrait, full-length: she is there with a lotus flower, her favorite - this is India, and behind the mountains, Kashmir...

And here the phrase was uttered (copies Brezhnev): “Why does Glazunov only paint bourgeois presidents? “And my anniversary is just around the corner.” They called me in Moscow and I said: “I need four sessions, no less, 40 minutes each.” - “Come in - first we’ll give you Brezhnev’s favorite photo so that you...”.

I never saw Leonid Ilyich and never did. They gave me his photographs, and I did something stupid, as often happens to me - I made a preliminary life-size portrait: without orders, the Kremlin outside the window, cut crosses... In general, I overdid it - I should have left it unfinished. I brought it and waited, but there was silence. I called: “When will the first session be?”, and the answer was: “Comrade Glazunov? We (We! - I. G.) “We sincerely congratulate you.” Me: “With what?” “They paint a lot of portraits for Leonid Ilyich, he says: “Send this one to the House of Culture, this one to my homeland, but I took yours home and said (copies Brezhnev): “Nothing else is needed - Glazunov will only ruin it.” I later saw this portrait in the photo: Galya Brezhneva dances against its background. They didn’t pay me a penny, didn’t even say “thank you” - only Aleksandrov-Agentov, in my opinion, it was him...

- ...yes, Brezhnev's assistant...

But I can’t guarantee that, I finally said in a KGB tone: “I have a personal question for you.” Me: “Which one?” - “Why didn’t you draw an order on Leonid Ilyich’s chest? He’s like a simple person here.” I, Dimochka, go ahead when necessary (and now, if there are such questions, I’m ready), so I said: “And you know, comrade (I don’t remember his name. - I.G.), I painted a portrait of a person, not of orders.” - “A-ha! And you are brave!” “Yes,” I say, “I’m a Soviet man, that’s why I’m brave,” and hung up, but since Brezhnev considered this portrait to be the best for the anniversary, he ordered (copies):“Publish Glazunov in Ogonyok.”

- And they printed it?

Of course.

- Amazing!

There was a wild excitement, everyone asked: “Old man, tell me, how is it with the eyebrows? What were they talking about?”, but I couldn’t admit that I hadn’t seen him, and I got off with general phrases: “Well, the secret of the relationship between the model and the artist exists...

“...and let everything remain between us”...

That's it.

“I’M A SINNER: I COULD NEVER RESIST BEAUTY, I’M EVEN A MANY SINNER AND I REPENT OF THIS”

“I believe,” you said, “that a man truly loves the woman with whom he wants to have children. I wanted to have children only from my wife Nina."

Yes it's true.

Your wife Nina Aleksandrovna Vinogradova-Benoit, who went through a lot with you, helped in everything, was your soul, your conscience...

An unbreakable wall...

- ...passed away tragically...

- (Sighs).

- They say - excuse me for my tactlessness! - that before jumping out of the window,

she put a hat on her head so that her face wouldn't get hurt...

They put it on her because that hat was someone else’s, we didn’t have one like that.

- Do you think it was murder?

I think so - that's what the man I met at the House of Journalists told me three months later. He asked: “Don’t you remember I interrogated you?” I was surprised: “Nobody questioned me.” “You just forgot, because you were insane then, and I knew who killed your wife, and because of this I ended up in the Union of Journalists. I insisted on an investigation, but they told me: “It’s none of your business.”

-Did you have a hard time experiencing the loss?

Just like the blockade, this is the second terrible scar on my heart. Yes, Dima, I am a sinner: beauty is such a force that I could never resist, I am even a great sinner and I repent of it, but a wife is completely different, this is the concept of spirit, procreation, offspring and, as philosophers say, personal immortality. When I met Nina, she was 18 years old and I was 25...

“In the darkness of the old park, Nina told me that when she was very young, she loved to wander alone through the autumn parks of our Blok Petrograd side - not far from the church near the bridge on Kamennoostrovsky, on the banks of the Nevka, built in the Masonic-Gothic style by her inconsolable mother at the site of her son's duel. These were the sites of duels (usually taking place at dawn) of the St. Petersburg aristocracy - not far from the site of Pushkin’s murder on the Black River. Diagonally from the church on the other bank of the Nevka there was a house built immediately after the war, where the family of Nina’s father, the architect Vinogradov, lived. The embankments were overgrown with nettles and were littered with rusty old beds once upon a time, even before the bombings and starvation of the blockade months, the Leningraders who lived there. During the day, the alleys of the park were especially deserted, and it seemed to her that along one of them, where the walls of black tree trunks seem endless, lost in the spring darkness, the one she was waiting for and would love all her life would come.

Like green lights, buds blossomed on old trees - an incomparable spring in St. Petersburg... The piercing words she said then will forever remain in my heart: “You were not there, only the ice rang and crumbled on the blue Neva, but I waited for you - such a handsome and incorruptible knight, smelling of paint, with an eternally tired, pale face. My parents, as you know, immediately disliked you, considering you dissolute and frivolous, although talented - they, like your uncle Misha, are sure that you will be with me for several months. Everything, as the Bible says, passes, but they don’t know that we will be together until the end - I will endure everything and be devoted to you, like Solveig...”

In the darkness of twilight, splashes spread out like golden rings across the water of the black pond, and after the dark lonely park, how noisily the Petrograd side was seething and burning with lights, how powerfully and beautifully the multi-storey buildings stood, built on the eve of the revolution on Kamennoostrovsky Prospekt. The luminous eyes of the windows, and each one has its own life, its own destinies and tragedies: here it is, one of the secrets of the reality of the world in all its poetic ineffability and simplicity.

The lights of the windows, turning into the starry sky above the city, were reflected in Nina’s eyes - covered with fluffy eyelashes, they radiated love and purity of tenderness. She was then 18 years old, and the glow of the window lights merged with the twinkling of lonely stars in the hazy night sky - they became especially bright when viewed from the cobblestones of the St. Petersburg-style deep and dark courtyard-well.

...After 30 years in Moscow, from the 83rd police station they will bring me her wedding ring with a cardboard attached to it - on the tag it was written in pencil: Nina Aleksandrovna Vinogradova-Benoit, born 1936, died May 24, 1986... They hit me and they hit her. Through the black fog of grief, I barely remember those terrible days of her death... Why wasn’t her engagement ring given to me for six months? And why and who gave it? I can’t, I don’t have the strength to touch this enduring pain, but while I was happy that she, sitting next to me in the studio, enthusiastically and soulfully examined my work. Nina studied at the art history department of Leningrad State University - I saw her profile, similar to a Roman cameo, and felt the great spirituality of her nature, characteristic of many representatives of the Benois family, so famous in the history of Russia.

I remember one day, while working on the “War Roads” canvas, I discovered that I had run out of paint.

With his wife Nina Vinogradova-Benoit, son Vanya and daughter Vera

There was no money, and then my good fairy, joyful Nina, appeared at the door. “Here are the paints,” she said, putting the heavy bag on the floor. Looking into her happy eyes, I asked: “Where from?” Looking down for a second, she replied: “My parents gave me money.” - “I wouldn’t like to take anything from your parents - I feel like your father actively doesn’t love me.” Looking enthusiastically at my painting, she, sitting down next to me, admitted: “These colors are from me, not from them. You must finish your brilliant work - it carries a great truth, from which everyone has lost the habit."

A few days later, I don’t remember under what circumstances, a green ticket fell out of her passport. I bent down, picked it up and read: “Donor’s lunch.” A guess flashed through my head - that’s why she’s become so pale lately. This is not fatigue! - my wife sold her blood and exchanged it for paints with which I painted, not knowing at what price they were obtained!

When I remember this today, as then, I cannot find words of surprise, gratitude and anger at myself - my heart contracts with tenderness, tears well up in my eyes. It’s as if I hear her voice: “I give my whole life to you, I believe that a higher power works through you, and my purpose is to love you and be devoted. You once said that you could never marry anyone - you are a warrior and should be free in your actions. I know: my duty and the meaning of my life is to serve you.”

My wife’s faith in my God-ordained mission gave me great strength and peace of mind, which helped me survive the terrible struggle - it was no coincidence that my Moscow friends later called her Boyarina Morozova. To deprive me of my indestructible wall - the indomitable, tender, strong-willed and frantic Nina - was the dream of many black people and secret forces: her end shook me to the core with mortal pain and horror, it was predetermined, and the sentence was carried out.

She left two children in my arms, looking at whom I often shudder from her unexpected glance, movement, intonation, which I find in our Ivan and Vera... The Icon of the Mother of God “Seeking the Lost” gives me quiet joy, even if it dulls me for a while the hopeless grief of the years of my happiness with Nina gone forever, our common fierce struggle for Russia.

“There is no happiness in the world, but there is peace and will” - today, more than ever, I understand the sad meaning of these words of the all-encompassing Russian genius. There is no peace, but there is will, and happiness in service... Among the evil howl and intransigence of enemies, in the joy and love of my viewers.”

“MY MUSE LOVES ME VERY MUCH AND I TRUST HER COMPLETELY, ALTHOUGH I DO NOT TRUST ANYONE - LESS THAN WOMEN: I AM ONLY SURPRISED AT THE LENGTH OF TIME WHEN THEY DO NOT BETRAY”

- I saw a photo in your gallery with the beautiful Gina Lollobrigida...

I love her!..

- ...and I heard that you had an affair with her...

I would not like to answer this question, because we can go too far. I can only say one thing: if it weren’t for Gina... She always corrects: Lollobrigida (with emphasis on the first “i”)... They came to me for two hours: they took half an hour to see portraits of her, Luchino Visconti, De Santis, Fellini... I made graphic ones, and she asked: “I want them in oil.” I didn't speak Italian at all...

- ...but they offered to stay...

I said: “Either you stay, or I will come to Rome.” She exclaimed: “Grand idea!”, and they grabbed Furtseva by the throat...

This was in 1961, during the Moscow Film Festival, and in 1963, for the first time in my life, I was released to Rome alone, where I lived for three months - by this time I had learned Italian, because I had been waiting for two years.

- She was insanely good, wasn’t she?

Oh, extraordinary beauty: both external and spiritual, internal - this is not some Marilyn - ugh! - Monroe...

- Not a dummy...

Or, remember, the German film “Woman of My Dreams”?

- Trophy...

You’re still little, you’ve hardly seen it... There’s such (shows - busty, with a figure) the female was playing... Sorry, I forgot...

- Marika Rekk...

-(Humming):“In der Nacht ist der Mensch nicht gern" alleine"... Primitive? Yes! - but a beauty, but a horse can be just as beautiful, and Gina is a miracle.

With children and grandchildren

- An artist cannot live without a muse...

Agree.

- Do you have a muse now?

Of course - over there, he looks at us all the time. This is Inna Orlova - we met 17 years ago on the street. She went to the conservatory, and I was struck by her beautiful face! “I’m an artist, I want to draw you!” - I said. Now Inna works as the director of my gallery here on Volkhonka - she loves me very much, and I completely trust her, although I don’t trust anyone, especially women.

- They say you are very jealous...

When you love, you are always jealous, but, however, there must be a measure (laughs).

- From the women who loved you, I heard that you are unusually generous...

In what sense? - I have always been a poor rat.

From the book “Crucified Russia” by Ilya Glazunov.

“Living in a university dormitory and surprised that I had not yet been kicked out, at the suggestion of the great actress Tamara Fedorovna Makarova and her husband Sergei Apollinarievich Gerasimov, I began working as an artist on a film about an American pilot shot down during the Great Patriotic War, which many years later years old returns to Russia to again visit the village where the storm of war brought him. Like everyone else, I loved cinema, and I considered the best film to be the French film with Jean Gabin in the title role - “At the Walls of Malapaga”, but I will not hide: I was especially interested in the promised Moscow registration with a room and, of course, the fee.

The director of the film was then the novice Tatyana Lioznova - I worked enthusiastically on the sketches and somehow did not attach much importance to the fact that a contract had to be concluded first. I liked my sketches, Lioznova rejected only one of them - the hut of the collective farm chairman: “You should show not the miserable conditions, but depict a richer interior, so that the returning American pilot understands how much has changed here after the war. It is necessary for the hut to have a city suite - after all, our collective farms are rich!” I was young, hot-headed, and flatly refused to create a fake interior in the collective farm huts that were so familiar to me. “I am for the truth of life, and not for the truth of socialist realism,” I tried to convince Lioznova, but she was adamant: “Leave your sketches - we will pay off in the end.”

Several months passed, and I learned that the main artist of the film was a certain Noy Senderov, an employee of the Sverdlovsk film studio. I will never forget how, poor and hungry, literally stunned by the hopelessness of my situation, I came to the Gorky Film Studio to receive the promised fee. I was met by a group of people unknown to me sitting at the table: “How will you prove that your sketches were used in the film?” - one of those sitting asked angrily. “This can be seen from the filming material,” I replied. “Where are your sketches?” - the interrogation continued. "As where? Left it at the studio at Lioznova’s request.” - “We haven’t seen any sketches, but if so, show me the document - when and how much you left.” “I don’t have any documents,” I answered confused. “Did you really work without a contract? - the interrogator was surprised.

“But according to the contract, the artist Senderov is working on this film, and all your claims for payment for non-existent sketches are extremely strange and smack of criminality.” Another member of the “tribunal” intervened: “How many times have I said that there is no need to invite anyone from the street, professionals and honest people should work in the cinema, but you,” he looked at me, “may not get well for such harassment.” I don’t advise you to appear in the studio anymore.”

Depressed, with a disgusting feeling of impudent deception, I went to see Tamara Fedorovna Makarova, whom I so respected, who lived in a high-rise building on Kutuzovsky Prospekt. “Ilyusha, Sergei Apollinarievich and I treat you with sincere love, every morning we admire your “Girl with a Dandelion”, which you gave to me. There is so much purity and tenderness in her, but I can’t help here. The studio has its own laws, and the main person is the director. I myself was invited to play in this film - but you refused to do what Tanechka Lioznova asked.” And, smiling with her charming secular smile, she added: “Lioznova is the director of the film, talented and intelligent, by the way, her dad is a KGB general.”

After a significant pause, Tamara Fedorovna continued: “Our family admires you, I am very glad that you have become friends with my nephew Artur Makarov. I know that you made wonderful sketches for the film, but Tanya chose another artist, and no one really knows now where your sketches are, and therefore you will not be able to receive the fee, the promised registration and the one-room apartment that were discussed at first.” And again she gave me a charming smile, familiar to me from childhood from many films: “For example, all my life I dreamed of playing a heroine who I wouldn’t mentally pat on the shoulder - I’m still waiting for my cherished role. It’s easier for artists - they create alone...”

- However, those who were loved were literally showered with gifts - is that so?

I can guess what (or rather, who) you are referring to, but when after my first exhibition I moved to Moscow (let me remind you that I was appointed a drawing teacher without the right to live in the capital, but Mikhalkov the benefactor helped me get a job here), I worked as a loader - I have a certificate. I couldn’t give expensive gifts, but my late wife said that I had a gift addiction. I always want to give something as a souvenir - so I’ll give you a two-volume set of my works... It was published a long time ago: there are illustrations for Blok and separate paintings.

I believe that gifts are a property of a broad soul, and the worst thing for me is when you give people trust, attention, friendship (and I put male friendship higher than love, because, I repeat, I don’t trust women), and they pay you in betrayal , especially friends. This happened to me twice: one cheated because he went crazy (that was a long time ago), and the second began to envy me - I don’t know why? I gave him everything I could, shared my spirituality, as far as I have it, introduced him into such worlds, and he told me: “Now I’m on my own - you’ve already put me into orbit,” and this offended me, because what he...

- ...betrayed...

And on a big scale. This really hurts me, and when women betray...

-...you are not offended because you foresee it...

I'm only surprised at the length of time when they don't betray.

“I BELIEVE THAT WE ALL SHOULD LIVE UNDER THE WIDE WINGS OF A DOUBLE-HEADED EAGLE LOOKING TO THE WEST AND TO THE EAST”

- Ilya Sergeevich, I am happy that I was able to meet you - I could talk to you endlessly...

Let's make a five-part film!..

But I know that the other day you have an exhibition in St. Petersburg, so I don’t dare abuse your attention and detain you. I want to thank you for the wonderful interview, for touching real, great, high art today - firstly, walking through the gallery and looking at your wonderful works...

Thank you, Dima...

And secondly, by talking with you. This made an indelible impression on me, and I am sure our readers feel the same now: thank you for being there...

So let's be friends! - Do you know what my dream is? Organize an exhibition in Kyiv.

- In my opinion, there is no problem with this...

ABOUT! - yes, and big ones! First of all, this is a different country, which means you have to pay. Now it is more difficult for artists than ever - do you, for example, know how much it costs to rent the Moscow Manege? Right here, next to us...

- I think a lot...

Would you dare name the amount?

- Well, 30 thousand dollars a day...

How about per month?

- I think about a million “green” ones...

That’s right, two hundred million, so who, tell me, can shell out that kind of money? Unless Berezovsky could, but which artist?

- Patrons should be...

There are none - I give you my word of honor! - there are only random patrons, and here is the simplest example. I’m not complaining: it’s good that the exhibition will take place, although it will be without a catalog - it requires money, and besides, the works must be insured. For example, the Russian Museum, which has 17 of my graphic works, has never shown them, which means that for me it is already a Non-Russian Museum. In order to get them out of the basements and provide them for my exhibition, they demanded a total of about 20 thousand dollars: they say, these works need to be formalized, but at first they refused to exhibit them at all - others are also demanding it.

My favorite work from my youth, “The Last Bus,” is in Odessa, and I dream of exchanging it for anything: an icon, some painting of mine, new or old, because it is part of my life. At that time I was in love with a very beautiful woman (this was a year before Ninotchka), Ada, and so I portrayed her. Then they were skeptical about this: they say, it was too family-like. On the last bus rides a withdrawn, anxious modern stranger, in the back seat a married couple is clearly returning from guests, a drunken husband is dozing, the wife is yawning), the conductor is counting money, dim light, darkness, and she is in red... I studied Rembrandt for a long time , whose red sounds like fire.

I had two exhibitions in Odessa (then there was a wonderful director), I really love this city, where my work remains - how can I get it? We called, they said: “You owe this and that,” but I can’t allow Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin to ask...

- ...Viktor Fedorovich Yanukovych...

- ... “Oh, sorry, send me this picture.” They tell me: “This is a different state,” but can I summarize our interview?

- Certainly...

Dear friends, my dear brothers! I believe that we should all live in this world under the wide wings of a double-headed eagle, looking west and east. I don’t call you Ukrainians, because it comes from the word “outskirts” - I’m talking about Little Russians, Great Russians and Belarusians. Now they are diligently pitting us against each other on class and national grounds, they are imposing a tendency towards destruction, but all this, I am convinced, is in vain.

By the way, the last head of state who wanted me to paint his portrait was Muammar Gaddafi - that was a long time ago, I had to go to the desert, and, you know, I refused. They promised big money, but, as they say, happiness does not lie in it, and in the name of so-called democracy they killed him. At night, when I arrive barely alive at my house near Moscow, I always turn on the news, and recently I heard a statement that sounded very Soviet. One of the Libyans sighed: “Under Gaddafi, everything was there: this, and that, and cheap gasoline, but now there is nothing” - well, if this is called democracy, then...

I continue, completing the circle, as in Shakespeare’s Wreath of Sonnets... My father Sergei Fedorovich Glazunov told how he was in Ukraine, and 30 years later I, a student, came to Kanev. There were some yellow fruits...

- ...apricots...

They were laid out to dry, like jewelry, like diamonds, and my father told me that they were bought by the cartload, and people came up and tried them straight from the cartload. That's the difference, because monarchy is the oldest form of government. There is the Book of Kings in the Bible, in the Old Testament, the monarchy is spoken of in the ancient Aryan books “Rigveda” and “Avesta”... Monarchy is a power overshadowed by God’s blessing, which is why our intelligentsia paid so cruelly for welcoming (claps palms) of this scoundrel Kerensky and hated the Tsar. So we got it, so, it seems to me, we cannot violate the centuries-old traditions of each nation and strive for isolation, for the creation of separate, supposedly independent states.

It pains me that 26 million of my Russian brothers are now left abroad - in those republics that they raised from the ruins when the party, the Lenins, the Trotskys, the Bukharins, the Stalins sent them there, but if you ask me: what kind of state is ideal today? - I’ll surprise you a little, because I think this is Israel. We must take our hats off to the people who resurrected a dead language and returned to their promised land (I am not talking about their clashes with the Arabs - I am simply taking it as a fact). I would very much like Russians, my Little Russian brothers, and Belarusians to love their people just as Jews love theirs, and to have the responsiveness that the world’s greatest writer, thinker and clairvoyant Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky called for.

Kyiv - Moscow - Kyiv

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