THE ONE THAT HOLDS THE BRUSH...

FREE THEME

... and then you think. And you should have done it earlier. But before there was no time. It was occupied with the delight of life and the certainty that everything would change in my lifetime. A century passes. Natalya Igorevna Nesterova is small, great (now she is not in Moscow, and ...

… and then you think.

And it should have been earlier. But before there was no time. It was occupied with the delight of life and the certainty that everything would change in my lifetime.

A century passes.

Natalya Igorevna Nesterova is a small, great (now she is not in Moscow, and you can say it) woman who built her own picturesque world.

The paintings in the workshop are turned to face the wall so that they do not communicate with the artist and do not interfere with the still clean canvases, which are yet to be “smeared” powerfully, like a man.

She is one.

Well, the only one. Only a living person can live nearby. But there are not so many people outside the pictures. And on the canvases - restless immobility. Even if something happens, all the same, everyone froze in anticipation. Something must happen. Now. It is impossible to turn away: it will just happen.

The world of Nesterova is sad and tense. Time and times, having passed through Natasha's soul, were not colored with light. What happened before - that's what they learned: cruelty, squalor, indifference, betrayal, betrayal.

— Optimism in our situation is hysterical. And he smiles. - A person does not get much joy. Well, it's true.

- True true.

She is sure that a person is always alone, but she is not at all bored alone. She holds on to the brush, which helps her cope not with what surrounds her, but with what fills her.

Signs - messages of a lonely brush - enter into a dialogue with other lonely souls, showing that they are not alone in their loneliness.

It doesn't save.

People in her paintings do not communicate. They are intensely separate. Creating them, Nesterova tried to free herself from tormenting thoughts. Write - and it goes away. For a while. Or doesn't leave at all. Only the characters endowed with her questions vanish from her fate.

And she again begins to hold on to the brush.

And her gardens are in tension, and cities, and birds.

Generally birds. Like people in general, like dreams in general, like dreams, of which there is also something in common. At all.

On huge pink wings, she jumps, bounces and flies somewhere in the vicinity of her house on the Arbat. From people to freedom. To the chain of self-restraints. Sammo!

“Man has penetrated everywhere. You can't get away from him. It constantly breeds evil and injustice. He, it seems to me, is the most terrible animal. He destroys everything. And yourself. In mass especially.

About ten years ago I met Sergey Averintsev and cautiously asked: are there good peoples? I hoped that he would express some consideration that would allow me to correct my own suspicions. But he answered clearly, without any possibility of interpretation: there are no good nations. People can be good too.

- I think badly about the crowd, the mass, the queue, the assembly, the society. And how not to love good people. (You know my friends.) I love this one who enters Jerusalem on a donkey. But the human caviar that betrays him is not.

She painted many people and many angels. It didn't quite work out. Some angels were not enough. You have to defend yourself.

Once upon a time, Zoya Nikolaevna, a smart, gentle, understanding mother and friend of Natasha, told me:

- Angels can only be the way Natasha writes them - with heavy wings that carry heavy people.

We are not easy.

Recently, when I entered the studio, I saw a new painting that surprised me. Blooming apple, cherry (not important) orchard and three people. Two men and a woman with their backs to us.

There was no painful or tense expectation of events. Something has already happened there. They survived it and are now calm ...

May God let us survive.