The watershed in culture has become over the past two months a monotonous and growing toothache - more and more amazing discoveries in the spirit of “and they already knew about this” or “how could this one?”.
The range of personalities discussed ranges from free art circles to megastars.
Oh those stars, right?
Sickness, slight nausea.
Irritation and rage - why so?
Why not with us?
Why?
With us or with them, it is always a question of internal culture, reconciliation of the internal cultural code with what is happening around according to the system of recognition “friend or foe”.
What am I talking about?
The fact that even the most furious "for us" inside also have a struggle and also a choice.
Only different - in essence, with the possibility and unconditional application of logical analysis, historical knowledge and the voice of the heart.
Did you really think that the world is black and white and only the tuning table sometimes ripples iridescently?
We live in a complex world, brutally complex.
The truth is broken.
And here’s another one: we live in a country so plainly and not understood by anyone, in an empire without a visible edge and time horizon, in a territorial and mental reality that can’t be read with the help of calculation tables alone — we live in Russia.
So it happened.
She, Russia, is still many times more complicated than the most sophisticated ideas of her overseas — and sometimes local — researchers.
Like a nesting doll in a nesting doll (what kind of artifact toy is this), like Clark's incredible space cylinder from "Date with Rama", in which everything is built up for absolute reliability and where you can visit without much effort, try and see everything, climb everywhere and , having felt everything with her hands, not understanding anything, having returned home with a steady awareness of the oppressive meaninglessness and emptiness, Russia (and in the nesting doll there is no time for spending - there can be seven or ten worlds in worlds) does not give anyone any answers, continuing the inevitable movement towards Sun.
Get energy.
And, having made a maneuver, go further - to completely unimaginable and unimaginable human areas and temporal spaces.
To the stars, among the stars.
At that time we had two people who, due to external circumstances, seemed to be not connected in any way (and even nothing), Vysotsky and Magomayev.
The first one (after all, they will be torn apart for a crooked wording) is a poet and singer, a bard by the will of the people.
The second is an opera singer and composer, an artist by the will of the people.
Both acted in films.
And they created images that were at least didactic.
Vysotsky embodied in Zheglov, and no matter where and whatever happens in our long-suffering fatherland, we know that there is him, Zheglov, and in his closet, to replace the only worn suit, there is a dress tunic with awards and food cards.
If someone suddenly stole the last and then only death, he will give his own.
And he will figure it out with Sharapov for a couple with his invariable doomed-optimistic grin, as on cabbage and potatoes to live up to the sovereign's salary.
Magomayev embodied in Nizami, a thinker and poet, who with all his might kept farther from power and closer to people, albeit not ideal, but retaining a spark of the divine presence in his souls - they just had to be reminded of this from time to time.
“We do not see the Creator, we only see what he created.
This means that we need to comprehend ourselves ”- the words from the film, which have remained in the memory, it seems, forever.
So what am I on about?
Do you know (of course, you know) to what extent both these people - both Vysotsky and Magomayev - were favored by fate?
Favorites of the people (without loud words) - they were ready to be carried in their arms, indisputable authorities, whose name alone moved mountains (do you think everything is in the past?), Who lived widely, hardly counted money and never accumulated anything, remained unattached to anyone something, but the same as they were: by themselves in convictions and together with us in spirit.
Who are they today?
On the day of the great cultural divide?
Undisputed authorities.
Vysotsky left, stepping from a thin plank into the sky.
Go to gallery page
Magomayev first went into silence, and without thinking for a moment about “the expediency of being on stage for many more years”, and after ...
How eternal is the gilding in the sky of the sun,
So strong is the love and fidelity of Don Quixote!
Remember?
Magomayev's voice blowing up the columned hall of the House of the Unions, remember?
The tall smiling man, the unchanging butterfly - it's all so old-fashioned, isn't it?
I want brutal saturation, and so that it flickers, and the ringing in the eyes is everywhere, and somehow everything would be more alive ... Yes?
We managed to visit, there are no delays to God ...
Much more lively than Vysotsky sang: we left the house, even for bread, but ended up ... on a visit to God.
The time is not funny.
To be worthy in it - you need to have hardening.
To create in it with dignity - double hardening is needed.
Both Magomayev and Vysotsky fit well and simply into today's storm.
Both, under similar circumstances and given circumstances, more than once could stay abroad, and they were offered this more than once on the most beautiful and touching terms.
Didn't stay.
Although questions to the state and one and the other enough.
Only ... Only they knew how to separate questions to the state and questions of their own internal choice with their hearts, and also with their minds.
Here is my home.
Everyone who is dear to me is here.
Here I grew up, here I received the strength that brought me to the people.
If my house is in disarray, there is no one but me to fix everything and arrange it in order.
Why is that?
Yes, because this is my home.
In order for everyone breaking into the “Euro-saving gates of paradise” today to get at least a little closer (not at a level - this is impossible) with understanding to these two, Vysotsky and Magomayev, one must remember (and remember at every moment) about the inevitability of “visiting God”, about unconditionality " so strong is love and fidelity.”
And further.
The level of professional toughness Magomayev and Vysotsky would have easily shut up then and now many.
But where is the “sacred pathos of the artist” in them?
Find and show.
He is absent?
How about something like that?..
Go to gallery page
Separating the wheat from the chaff is a simple science.
I took it, tried it - either it’s good, or you choke and curse.
Everything is for real.
The bread is real.
The pulp is real.
So try it, brothers and sisters.
Everything that is before your eyes, take and try - there is no great work in it.
As well as the need to observe the "water truce", painfully not separating one from the other, the real from ...
Did you understand.
The point of view of the author may not coincide with the position of the editors.