01 July 2005, 11:20 Opinions

Do it en plein air

Nikolai Klimontovich It would be nice if everyone who paints pictures, composes music and books paid tribute to what inspired them.

I received a nice short invitation. An old friend, an artist, invited me to the village of Peredelkino. An exhibition has opened in the restaurant that recently decorated this place. I’ve loved this place for a long time, but there have never been any restaurants there - not counting Setun, but that’s already abroad. Now it has appeared. The restaurant is not bad, the artist is excellent. Everything came together one to one. It's a good new story to have exhibitions in restaurants. Before that, they sang, danced, and served cutlets. It was not we, the visitors, who were dancing, but someone on stage. And now they have begun to hang the canvases.

The artist alternately lives on the Oka River and next to the Kievsky railway station. Paints oil paintings. Landscapes. Sometimes he invites you to visit. In Tarusa you can swim, sunbathe, talk. Look at her work. This is a good technique. My friend's paintings cast a dull sheen like antique mirrors. She writes children, salad and flowers. It is in her nature to have choices. She doesn’t write guys with guns because, most likely, she doesn’t like aggression. She is ready to decorate the world from morning to evening, and not write what destroys it. It’s interesting that people with guns are often willing to buy her paintings, but by the way, this is about how contradictory we live.

It's surprising that we find it very difficult to decorate our rooms. Even the most beautiful still life sometimes cannot brighten up a dull interior. There is not enough light. And I'm afraid there's not enough admiration. Anna Birshtein's paintings fill this gap. I'm not just saying this because they hang on my wall and decorate my humble home. They can even illuminate nature. At this point, I’m sure they’ll grab me by the hand and catch me advertising the artist. I would be glad, but it doesn’t need advertising. So as not to be reproached, I am ready here and now to confess my love for many of my other artist friends: Tatyana Nazarenko , Natalya Nesterova , Natella Toidze . I love them not just because they are beautiful women, but because I can look at each of their paintings for hours, like “Boyarina Morozova.” I never tire of being glad that I live nearby and can kiss the hands of these incredible masters. And some of them might even turn their cheek to me. I know that years will pass and these works will be exhibited in the best museums in the world. And now their authors and I can easily clink our glasses together in the open air.

When I look at the faces of my friends, I can’t help but think about how simple and complex life is. About the fact that I can smile at Natasha Nesterova like this, on the lawn, realizing that I am smiling at a genius. Sometimes I want to think about the way she looks at me. I hope she sees me as a simple spectator who is fascinated. In the end, not only do I need a brilliant artist, but also a simple person who admires her. That's why we go out into the open air. Both she and I...

“Breakfast on the Grass” was not written by chance. Men in tailcoats and naked women against the backdrop of the river are a wonderful metaphor for what needs to be done outdoors. “Natura” is not just a place for action, it is a vitamin for artists. When a person with a brush in his hand sees how the landscape in front of him is crossed out by a flying bird, his painting involuntarily comes to life. After all, birds don’t fly in the workshop.

But if a living landscape is so important to an artist, then it is logical to assume that his canvases should be exhibited in the fresh air. Therefore, this action of Anna Birshtein makes a lot of sense: she took out the still lifes that were painted in the studio.

There is a reverse movement in this gesture: Anna cuts branches in the garden, brings them to the veranda, puts them in a vase, admires them, and paints her still lifes. As soon as the still life has dried, she takes the painting out into the garden - to where these branches and flowers were taken from.

This is a very artistic gesture. It would be nice if everyone who painted pictures, composed music and books paid homage to what inspired them. It is difficult to judge what the plants think, but one hopes that they would bow down for it. From this point of view, a portrait is very dangerous - those who served as their subjects are rarely satisfied. Maybe that’s why there are fewer and fewer portraits at modern exhibitions. Man and his beauty are becoming less and less an object of admiration. But quite recently, capturing human features and lines of the human body was considered a criterion for the artist’s viability.

It’s a shame to talk about it, but in my apartment hangs my own portrait by Anna Birshtein. I admit, she didn’t give it to me right away, as if she was a little shy. Meanwhile, she did her job masterfully. But I somewhat doubt that I’m too good there. But, of course, we are not talking about this image, but about the complex relationship between the master and nature. The person being portrayed gradually glances at the artist, the artist looks at him furiously. When I remember my artist friends, I find myself sometimes wanting to change places with them. I see their faces, overshadowed by inspiration, and I feel ashamed of my sad pose as the subject of the image. If I could, I would capture those pursed lips, those swollen cheekbones, and that intense gaze. Because there is nothing more beautiful than the traits of a person dedicated to his work.

I would also like to change places with them because the artist who paints your portrait seems to be estranged from you. To put it bluntly, he ceases to be your friend. Those higher powers that call upon him at this moment leave no room for earthly feelings. You become a still life for him. But the moment will inevitably come when he will put down his brush and smile at you. The detachment will recede, you will become friends again, and maybe brothers. The minute when you looked at each other from different sides has passed, you are together again, and it’s time to pour. But the fact is that this minute will never be forgotten. And those words that you said to each other when you clinked glasses after her will remain too. Because love never dies, friendship only gets stronger, and there is nothing better than doing it in the open air.

The author is a columnist for Nezavisimaya Gazeta, especially for Gazeta.Ru-Commentary.