That there is beauty, or And now about weather (Marine pictures Tim - Blok)
... Whether there is beauty in itself? Or it arises while there is the one who is capable to estimate it and to admire?
It is clear, that beauty - business thin also depends on a situation, mood and tastes of the perceiving, historical period and an occupation layer. “ Beautiful took, I will not find fault, - the character of the story Dragoon " shouts; Magic power of art “ brilliantly played by A. Raikin - beautiful: a muzzle in! Eyes are small! “ In the hungry countries as beauties are considered full, vigorous and red-cheeked, and in safe sufferers starve themselves and acquire “ interesting pallor “ until in a faint are slapped. Generally, the question is difficult, I do not doubt that about it tons of philosophical works are written, and not to me to raise at it. I about weather.
Remarkable business - a winter landscape with the sun and snow. “ Frost and the sun - day wonderful “ - the teacher dictated, and the poor student Vaska Pupkin passionately whispered: - “ Wonderful - it is necessary to T in the middle? “ - I do not think that at this moment it before eyes had beauty of a winter forest. At me with literacy of problems never therefore I could also fir-trees in snow was to imagine, and a birch in silver, etc.
But nevertheless there were moments when material (which initially) prevailed over spiritual (which again). In Odessa it was in the winter seventy... years. (Old residents know, and most of readers and on light - that was not still... Terribly and to write what year!) I only arrived then to Odessa. Lived in the hostel where lived many Cubans and Germans - it was cheerful to live. And here - frosting.
At first it was very beautiful, all trees - as works of the glass blower, everything shone and sparkled. Against brightly - white snow - transparent ice branches of trees and bushes. In a sunny weather everything is poured, sparkles, not to have eyes glued. But then there comes weather cloudy - and understand that in cloudy when the gray sky is much more dark than the white earth, it is still much more beautiful!
And the mass of ice all grew...
And then trees and columns began to fall... on cars (in flat cake), on wires (swept away as a spider line)... - it was so a pity for fat centenary acacias! And it is frightening. There were also victims. there is no
of Light, there is no heating, there is no water (froze)... Students lack of water not of
cared since they drank wine, and to wash also snow well. And it was necessary to wash - lamps made of oil (a flat dish with oil, and in it a zakoryuk with a wadded match), and in the morning all appeared with the smoked ugly faces. Went to classes on foot, trams rose... in the afternoon on the road - eh, youth - wandered in snow knee-deep and laughed loudly.
At once became huge lines for bread! The science was thrown (darkly), and in the evenings sang in chorus. And novels, of course, twisted. Oh, and the potential difference was when there was a novel between the German and the Cuban! Sparks and flew! They such different...
But I not about it, and that since then beauty of the shining tree covered with ice in beams of the low winter sun causes in me not only thought " now; as it is beautiful “ and it is rather a thought “ and than home to get “.
The second example - too from those times. There came the Indian summer - that is beautiful to insanity, here and to conversation cannot be. Red maples, yellow a poplar, a green grass, it is bright - the blue sky... And purple wild grapes? In a word, scarlet and gold, and other la - la - la. And we have a friendship with Cubans and a cultural exchange. It was interesting - horror, we to them the, they to us about Cuba, dances, exotic and what they gallant as they beautifully looked after girls - our guys just mattresses against these kabalyeros. I even began to understand Spanish somehow at once. Amor (uuukh!) . But I not about it!.
Well. I dragged them in park. Even not in park, and to the arboretum. Fall to watch and magnificent the nature withering. We go, we look: scarlet, gold - everything on the place according to the inventory specified by the classic. A crystal, but marvelous time etc. of
- Well how, I speak, - it is beautiful? there is no
- - answer afflicted kabalyeros different degree of a shokoladnost, - it is awful.
- This wood is sick, he dies... All leaves yellow, it that, illness?
You understand? For them, inhabitants of tropical eternal summer, the tree with yellow leaves is sick a tree. What beautiful?
- So fall! You at school learned what at us leaves for the winter fall down?
- Taught and. And what, IN GENERAL ALL leaves fall down? At the same time? Then they, of course, everything understood
, they in general were very fairly clever and well educated, just here with foliage there was a defect - did not hold at them in the head that leaves at the same time fall down everything and nothing remains... And therefore autumn trees looked for them ugly, yellow park - the sick or beaten some awful silkworm.
Here to you and relativity of beauty.
And here we are visited by thought: the fact that it seems to us absolutely fine - whether is clear to all it, or for tropical inhabitants of a picture with foggy snow, in the gloomy afternoon and “ cod-liver oil of lamps “ - only set of spots?
Here, for example, amazing foggy winter and crude fall of Marina Tim - Blok .
... “ I Like to write both still lifes, and landscapes “ - the artist wrote. She visited all country, from everywhere brought sketches, etudes, water colors. “ And still my main love is my native Leningrad - St. Petersburg. To draw it the greatest pleasure and happiness. In these works I put all the heart and soul without the rest “ - wrote Tim - Blok in the memoirs.
Tim - Blok Marina Georgiyevna (1913 - 1999) - the Russian artist from St. Petersburg, the noblewoman, Alexander Blok`s niece. Finished the High female Bestuzhevsky courses. Took drawing lessons from Alexandre Benois. Taught skill bases at school at Academy of Arts and in the Highest art school of V. Serov. Teacher of the famous aquarellist I. Mayorov. The first personal exhibition Tim - Blok took place in Leningrad in 1940. The artist participated in more than 40 all-Union, republican and foreign exhibitions. In 1999 and 2001 two of its posthumous exhibitions took place in Moscow. Works Tim - Blok were on sale at many leading western auctions of the world ( see “ Russian artists of the XVIII-XX centuries “. Reference book. The author is the originator Solovyov V. D. of prod. 1994. p. 343, prod. 1996 of p. 557) .
“ M. Tim - Blok was “ silent “ the artist, wrote landscapes and still lifes, itself being in fact part of a cultural Petersburg landscape, being on friendly terms with Ulanova, Berggolts, Akhmatova. Studied in Academy of Arts, but to the Union of artists it was admitted only after forty years, in Khruschev`s “ thaw “ and a good workshop found also that later, having retired already “. (Igor Shevelyov 2006)
And for us (who understands) are remarkable pictures, of course. The surprising combination of blurring to an accurate portrayal precisely transfers a picture of crude autumn fog, smells of the first frost, feeling of prickly ice dust and special snow silence...
Paper, a water color, the mixed equipment.