Rus Articles Journal

When all died. Why at thefts of a century what gift was not necessary hundred years ago for anybody disappears.

Author - ANNA KUNOVSKAYA, Arth is a curator, the editor-in-chief of the « magazine; Sammler “.

Recently villains - malefactors took out from the Cairo museum a masterpiece “ " Poppies; (Poppy Flowers). In a picture it is not enough poppies, there mainly yellow viskariya are drawn, but it is almost indifferent for all and is precisely uninteresting to thieves - I think, they were recovered much more that the author of a picture is Vincent Van Gogh.

Specialists in recalculation of spiritual riches in financial states with a regret reported that the damage about 50 million dollars is caused to Muhammad Mahmoud Khalil`s museum and if still a little bit to become thoughtful, then, perhaps, even 60 million.

History is banal and even, probably, is boring, regardless of detective turns of a plot and from whether the billionaire who has nothing to hang up over a fireplace at the dacha, or new owners " was a customer; " Poppies; will give them for several doses of poppy straws. It is curious to look at Vincent`s face if the graduates of art criticism faculties working in the sphere of an assessment of painting told it about the Sotheby ´ auctions; s and about them, auctions, results. Already difficult psychological state of the genius would enter a crisis stage. As all for certain know, at least once hearing reasonings on difficulties of life and posthumous glory, the only picture Van Gogh sold at the end of life, it “ Red vineyards in Arles “ and the fee of the red Dutch was slightly less than 50 million.

It is clear, that you should not break hands in such occasion, it not trend of today, and very widespread stroke in life of people whose biography receives the book in the " series subsequently; ZhZL “ and it similar. At first all life you live on money of the brother, you suffer neurosises, you affect the health absinthe liqueur, you cut to pieces an ear lobe, you lie in houses with yellow walls, you do, at last, a shot in the head - and in hundred years the comely gentleman in skillfully sewed Italian suit raises a hand up. Yes, it raises a rate, on one million at once, it very needs this picture, it is pleasant to his daughter. And gentleman, in general, good guy and daughter - the cutie, but, my God, where he was hundred years ago?

Creativity which author died has a number of advantages before creativity which author is well and has good health. The living author can come to an exhibition, get drunk champagne to nausea and call the main patron the swine. Can? Perhaps among talented people, unfortunately, there are a lot of characters difficult, problem, scandalous, and sometimes and just unpleasant. It is very easy to stand before a picture Toulouse - Lautrec where the next sketch on the subject " is drawn; Brothel, bohemia, happiness, glass bottom “ and be touched, but hardly alive Toulouse - Lautrec in these interiors would cause an admiration sigh.

The dead artist is already something finished, he already will blacken nothing himself. It will not be necessary to hide bashfully in a closet of its cloth when he tells, for example, that he finds nice the Pol Pot`s regime in Cambodia, or will begin to extol in all interviews “ Jehovah`s Witnesses “. It is the simplest to love in general indisputable, unambiguous, cast in &ndash bronze; in - the first, if cast in bronze, they precisely cost something, in - the second, differently very famous, in - the third, nobody will carp at classics, whether it be “ Summer cafe in Arles “ or 501 - e " jeans; Levays “. Living classics meet, of course, but living classics too as it becomes clear later, quite often are the overestimated vulgar persons and it is more difficult to admire that from you at arm`s length. It is such effect of the song “ White roses “ - terrible musical registration, such deification of a Perestroika pop-music, nocherez already somehow is even touching 20 years, and “ was though some platform not that now, a dullness and mediocrity “.

To people of a brush and easel it is still slightly simpler, than to other professions united by the French word artist, - artists, creating a certain independent object fine (or awful), do not apply for winning someone`s soul, to dominate over something mind, and do not ask who is guilty and what to do. In this context to masters of art from literary work it is more difficult - these should carry on dialogues with society and the power, and this couple is sometimes inclined to whims and misunderstanding. Sometimes even to a pobivaniye stones or to a label priveshivaniye it seems “ the moral seducer of youth, and also the charlatan, and, perhaps, he beats secretly a neighbour`s cat “. Whether it is worth saying that on the last bed the label is carefully removed, write out to relatives of a condolence, and include couple of stories of the author in the program of literature for the seventh class?

One my acquaintance was indignant when next day after Solzhenitsyn`s funeral of the shelf book (the most visible regiments) amicably looked covers “ Archipelago GULAG “ and “ In a circle the first “. It is, of course, pardonable nonsense - people are engaged in trade, and it, fortunately, now is lawful. Someone trades in pies, someone books. If all want pies with cabbage why to offer with jam? After the screen version “ Mastera and Margarita “ the corresponding book was republished too, nobody was indignant. Here the index of a quoting of a surname of the author lifted series, &ndash here; his own death. Sadly, but to the author in both cases all the same, and a masterpiece couple more of people as a result will read, unless it is bad?

Having updated a news feed, I came across one more news: “ The Eight-year-old artist Kieron Williamson sold a collection from 30 works for 150 thousand euros “. It is not change of the agenda and even not a certain trend, but the phenomenon of the encouraging order. It is clear, of course, that boy Kieron - it is such entertainment, it is rather “ cool “ as fate - groups of YouTube, and these 150 thousand euros - they is rather for an image of the child prodigy, than for actually drawings, and all-. Perhaps Kieron will live up to the fact that his picture (some there “ Camomiles on a window sill of the ancient house in Manchester “) it will be sold on Sothbey’s during lifetime of the author and 50 million will be received not by his great-great-grandson, and it is personally. Perhaps for this purpose it is not even necessary to polosovat up to fish soup and to give result of operation to the familiar prostitute.

Though it is so already uninteresting.