About Pushkin's son

This amazingly handsome man's name was Grigory Grigorievich Kviton.

And if our previous heroes had one photo studio, then Grigory Grigorievich owned an entire network. He had one studio in Vladikavkaz, the second in Grozny. I don’t know anything about Kviton’s Grozny atelier, but the Vladikavkaz atelier thundered throughout the country.

Initially, Kviton rented premises on Aleksandrovsky Prospekt, where Ambassador is now. There was a studio on the first floor, and a photographer’s apartment on the second. Then, he bought a studio in house No. 19 on the same avenue.

In the photo studio, Grigory Grigorievich was helped by his wife, Raisa Aronovna, who graduated from the School of Photography in Dresden in 1908 and was the first woman photographer in the Caucasus. Meanwhile, Quiton's atelier was perhaps the most popular in the city. And not only because of the skill of the owner. ..

Grigory Grigorievich was not only good-looking, but also had impeccable taste. According to the testimony of old-timers, almost all the female students in Vladikavkaz secretly sighed about him and sought to get into his studio. He was also a great joker, a dreamer, and a master of disguise. His jokes sometimes excited the whole of Vladikavkaz.

So, for example, one day Grigory Grigorievich decided to reincarnate as Pushkin. The makeup turned out to be successful, and his own hat and cane only complemented the image. In this form, Kviton went for a walk along Aleksandrovsky Prospekt, having completed the promenade, the newly minted “Pushkin” entered the Grand Hotel, looked most carefully at the entire hall, and left without saying a word, and without even deigning to pay attention to the stupefied man administrator. The next morning, the whole of Vladikavkaz was blown up by rumors about Pushkin’s son, who came to the city and did not deign to pay anyone a courtesy visit. And Quiton and his friends enjoyed the effect produced for a long time.

Grigory Grigorievich was also a kind of fighter for justice. So, once, a troupe of the capital’s theater was touring in Vladikavkaz. Tickets were incredibly expensive, and, of course, not everyone could afford to go to the theater. A line of phaetons lined up at the doors of the theater, waiting for a wealthy audience. Imagine the amazement of the drivers when an unknown gentleman in a top hat, with a cane and a suitcase began to approach them one by one, and, giving each a gold piece, persuaded them to go on a trip. When one of the drivers asked the master what they were carrying, Quiton (and it was he) answered: “What? Some are a suitcase, some are a cane, some are a hat. I will go in the first phaeton, so move off at my signal.” And, of course, the audience leaving the performance was unable to get home comfortably. The next day, theater ticket prices dropped significantly.

Alexander Kevrosov (third from left) with his wife (first from right) and friends. From the archive of Vera Kornaeva

Grigory Grigorievich traveled to St. Petersburg quite often. He followed photographic innovations and often attended exhibitions that were organized in the capital. On one of these visits, Quiton’s friend, a metropolitan photographer, asked to replace him at a court shoot. Thinking that some minor official would have to be removed, Grigory Grigorievich agreed. He was taken into the palace hall, ordered to get ready, and warned that he was given no more than 10 minutes to film. But then opinions differ: some say that the Emperor himself entered the hall, others that it was one of the Grand Dukes. The stunned Quiton, however, did not lose his head and conducted the filming at the highest level. The royal family liked the portraits made by his hand, and he was awarded a gold personalized cigarette case. But this was not his only reward. For his skill, he was also awarded two gold imperial medals, which have since been displayed on the mat of his atelier.

The revolution swept away Quiton's atelier from the face of Aleksandrovsky Prospekt. The house was requisitioned, all the negatives, which, as expected, were stored in the studio for 5 years after filming, were thrown in boxes into the yard. Grigory Grigorievich was unable to save them. All the negatives are gone.

Kviton made a timid attempt to return the house, fortunately such an opportunity presented itself when Kviton was asked to conduct a reportage of the visit of the national elder Kalinin to Vladikavkaz. Kalinin was traveling to Baku and Kviton accompanied him from Vladikavkaz to Baku. They got to talking on the train, and the enchanted Kalinin, delving into Quiton’s problem, wrote a letter on the train asking him to help the giver return the house. However, upon returning to Vladikavkaz, Kviton did not take this letter anywhere. Either he decided that it was dangerous, or for some other reason, but it remained in his house as a family heirloom.

G.G. Kviton with student Bonskaya

Until the end of his life, Quiton worked in a cold summer studio in the park. His fame as an outstanding portrait painter was so great that even party bosses signed up to shoot with him two or three weeks in advance. There in the park he organized exhibitions of his works.

Grigory Grigorievich Kviton was buried in the Jewish cemetery of Vladikavkaz, but we were never able to find his grave.

In our collection, there are no exhibits associated with the name of Quiton, perhaps they will appear soon.

However, in his late Soviet period, Kviton probably had to film with such traveling cameras. They began to be produced in the 20s, and were produced until the mid-80s, which is not surprising. But that's another story.