Original paintings and manuscripts by Maximilian Voloshin presented at Tsvetaeva’s house-museum

An exposition dedicated to the poet, artist and philosopher of the Silver Age Maximilian Voloshin has opened in the Tsvetaeva House-Museum. The lion’s share of the exhibits temporarily placed in the exhibition hall divided by a “screen” is represented by the museum of Marina Ivanovna itself, which turned out to be surprisingly rich in Voloshin artifacts. The rest was shared by the State Literary Museum. Dal, the Russian State Archive of Literature and Art and other museum institutions, including the memorial museum-reserve “Cimmeria M.A. Voloshin. The result was a project that can be recognized as an afterword for the summer.

Most recently, the Ostroukhov House in Trubniki hosted a “resort” exhibition about Ilya Semenovich’s European trips. (“MK” wrote about this event at the end of July, when the sun was scorching mercilessly, everyone had beach hats, bathing suits and train tickets to the nearest sea on their minds.) pick up the theme of travel by proposing the project “I am a passer-by”. The wanderings of Maximilian Voloshin. But this was done with an allowance for a change in the weather and in the mood.

Those who were in Koktebel at the end of August know well that by this time the grass on the hills, sung by Osip Mandelstam (“… those hills where Russia breaks off / Above the black and deaf sea”), becomes withered, dark yellow. The corner of the peninsula where the “Koktebel hermit” lived is best seen with your own eyes, on the eve of autumn or late autumn, when thoughts of vacation do not interfere with pure contemplation.

Those who get to Tsvetaeva’s house these days will learn about the Voloshin Crimea only “in retelling” – but this is better than nothing. Moreover, part of the archival photographs was allowed to be reproduced by the Moscow colleagues in the Koktebel house-museum. Thanks to this, a certain “effect of presence” is achieved, it is most felt near the symbolic window – on its wings there is a fragment of the poem “Saint Francis” and an excerpt from the poem “Saint Seraphim”. In the center, on the windowsill of a window overlooking the sea (or rather, the ancient volcanic massif of Kara-Dag), Maximilian Alexandrovich himself sits.

Beneath this photograph, filled with sea and space, is an old postcard with Francis, a lithograph with St. Seraphim Sarovsky, who tamed the bear, and an archival photograph of Voloshin with his wife Maria Stepanovna and their dog named Yulahly.

Maria Stepanova, senior researcher at the Tsvetaeva Museum, says:

– Having written a poem about St. Francis, Voloshin began to work on a poem about St. Seraphim of Sarov. Probably, St. Seraphim in Orthodox culture is a kind of analogue of the Catholic saint, who was distinguished by a compassionate attitude towards animals. Three people met here, united by one worldview.

The second important thematic line is “hermitage” and the simultaneous craving for interlocutors, characteristic of the classics. Near the stands dedicated to Voloshin’s circle of friends, Maria Stepanova explains:

Yes, he was a hermit. There were moments when it was a burden to him to communicate with someone. (In the poet’s house, to save himself from annoying visitors, there was an office forbidden to enter. – I.V.). But it can be understood – in one summer up to a thousand people could come to Koktebel, which made the work of the poet impossible. But at the same time, he loved people very much. When asked about his favorite pastime, Voloshin answered: “Traveling and talking together.”

And when they asked him who he was in the first place – a poet or an artist, Voloshin firmly said: “Poet.” But then he added: “And, of course, the artist.”

The main collection of paintings by Maximilian Voloshin is kept in the Crimea, but the Tsvetaeva Museum has two “Koktebel Landscapes” and several more watercolors, they are presented in the original at the exhibition. Particularly noteworthy is the still life, created on December 22, 1924, and which, probably, the public is now seeing for the first time.

Since we are talking about the originals, it is worth mentioning a copy of the manuscript of Voloshin’s translation, a typescript of his poem with a handwritten note, and other equally valuable exhibits. Like, say, the first publication of Tsvetaeva’s essay “Living about Living”, written in exile as a response to the death of Voloshin, placed in one of the glass cases in two versions – in the form of a copy of the Russian literary magazine “Modern Notes” published in France and in the form of a typographical a print marked by Marina Ivanovna: “I reduced Rudnev (the editor-in-chief of Zapiski – I.V.) to the place because of the stinginess.” There is also a small piece of paper on which the author wrote a cut-out part of the commemorative article by hand.

The intersection of the fates of Voloshin and Tsvetaeva was also reflected in the most touching part of the exposition. It was in Koktebel that Marina Tsvetaeva and Sergei Efron first saw each other.

In a letter to dear Max, Tsvetaeva writes that her life could have turned out differently if “I hadn’t met you because of the collection (the debut book of poems“ Evening Fire ”), hadn’t come to Koktebel, hadn’t met Serezha, – therefore, would not have been married in January 1912.”

A real illustration of a romantic story with a tragic ending (the wife was driven to suicide, the Soviet authorities shot her husband) is Efron’s engagement ring with a thin inscription inside: “Marina”. And a carnelian ring – it was kept by Ariadna Efron, so it is possible that this is the same stone that Tsvetaeva suggested to her chosen one to find on the beach (if you find and give it, you will be my husband).

Today, there is not a trace left of the former semi-precious wealth of the Koktebel coast – everything was dismantled as a keepsake by past generations of tourists. The necklaces and beads sold in the shops by the sea are made in China. Only Voloshin’s poems, the house on the shore (at the turbulent sea, azure drops reach it), the monument to the poet and the gravestone on Mount Kuchuk-Yanyshar remain real.

And we still have Voloshin’s voice – physical, recorded in Leningrad on March 27, 1924 by L.V. Gornung and D.S. Usov, and metaphysical – dissolved in time and space. It is difficult to say which of the voices sounds in the “video hall” of the museum, where archival photographs are broadcast on the screen, and the author’s reading of two Voloshin’s poems is heard from the speakers: “At the bottom of the underworld” and “The Burning Bush” of 1919, with draft advice to foreigners not to try to catch fish in the dark water of the Russian revolution and civil war:

Who’s there? French people? Don’t bother, comrade

Into the Russian whirlpool!

Don’t touch our fires!

Touch is death.

It remains to be seen why the exposition is entitled “wandering”. The philosophy of the name incorporates Voloshin’s travels around Europe (I did not mention suitcases, travel boxes, etc.), the hikes and wanderings of the writer and philosopher, who did not let go of the travel staff, his spiritual quest and “travels through the souls of people.”