[Евгений]

In January of 1996, he died in New York, he was buried there, but later the ashes of the poet was moved to Venice, the island of San Michele. Brodsky loved this city, many years come here in winter from New York during the Christmas holidays. He dedicated the Venice beautiful poems and one of his best essays.
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(Remembering Peter Weil, a well-known writer, was acquainted with Brodsky in the last years of his life.)
Fondamenta degli Incurabili - Quay incurable

The history of our acquaintance with Joseph Brodsky began in December 1977. At the time I lived in Rome, waiting for paperwork to move to America. And once in a Russian newspaper read that the Venice Biennale is dissent. He sat on the train and went to Venice. And here had the pleasure and happiness to meet Sinyavsky, Brodsky and Galich, who died two weeks later in Paris. So, arrived at the Venetian Biennale as a normal Soviet citizen: I thought that participation in this event you need special accreditation passes and the like. In fact, it turned everything differently. I came to the organizing committee and began to explain something to a girl on his monstrous then English, and she answered me about the same. But at some point, looking at their lists, she became the friendliness and courtesy: you, Mr. Weill, she said, given hotel with full board for three days due to the organizing committee. It later turned out that the unhappy girl had confused me with a known dissident, Boris Vejle, who after leaving the Soviet Union lived in Copenhagen, was listed in the Biennale invited guests and by coincidence was unable to come to Venice. But I did not know. And, characteristically, what happened seemed to me then quite natural: that in the West to the people and should be treated that way. In short, living for free in Venice I have actively participated in the activities of the Biennial, went to the roundtables, visited the exhibition and the exhibition, including an exhibition of Oleg rubles, with whom we met on the first evening, pretty drunk, shlyayas city .

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One day my happy stay here on the sidelines of the Biennial, I saw a man trying to pass, but his servant not let him. The usher spoke in Italian, and a visitor - only in English. By the time I lived for four months in Italy and quite a lot about myself imagined. Therefore considered a sufficient knowledge of the language to help people. And, characteristically, has helped, something we are there to minister agreed. In any case, people have missed. We met. His name was Joseph Brodsky. His poetry is of course, I knew, but how could he could know what he looks like! Talked. Brodsky said then that the Russian people to live better, if not in Russia, then in America. Then I remembered the many times these his words. He probably had in mind and cosmopolitan, and the scale of the territory that was similar to the USSR ...

And about every other day Brodsky read his poetry in some of the auditoriums Biennale. I first listened to his inimitable singing liturgical poetry ...

He lived in "Landry" - hotel on the main promenade of Venice, and his friend, the American esseistka Susan Sontag - the Hotel Gritti. " There, near the famous Harry's Bar, where was a lot of celebrities, including Hemingway, but now and Brodsky. Anyway, in his testimony, it was in this bar he met a Christmas 77-year, along with Susan Sontag. What they drank cocktails "Bellini" - branded invention "Harris-bar": skillful blend of champagne and white peach juice. Although Brodsky loved and something stronger - grappa, for example. It is possible that they ate another invention "Harris-bar", or rather its owner, Signor Cipriani, owner of the luxury hotel in Venice. They stop at Hollywood stars who come to Venice film festivals. So, once familiar Cipriani, famous actress complained to him that the doctor has forbidden her to eat any cooked meat. And generous Cipriani invented especially for her dish, then became very popular. This is the finest sliced raw beef under the sheets with olive oil and lemon and parmesan. The dish was the name of the great Venetian painter Carpaccio. It is possible that at Christmas 1977 Brodsky, very fond of meat in all forms, and Susan Sontag ate carpaccio here in Harris-bar.

That's what we know for sure: in one of these days, she called him and invited to visit the widow of the famous poet of Ezra Pound. Pound was a fascist entity, collaborated with Mussolini. Brodsky, treated him with hostility, but a meeting with the widow, the famous Italian violinist, Olga Rudge, and went. I'm talking about this visit just because thanks to him emerged this legendary name of the famous essay of Joseph - Fondamenta degli Incurabili - Quay incurable. That's how it is written. "From the Fascists - young or old - I, in my opinion, has never experienced, but with the old communists had to do several times, and at the home of Olga Rudge, with the bust of Ezra on the floor, smelled the same spirit. From the house we went to the left and two minutes later found themselves on the Fondamenta degli Incurabili ".

With this waterfront linked one puzzle. Many believe that it does not exist. Indeed, you never find the name. Nevertheless, it is wrong. Look over here. You see half obliterated inscription on the peeling wall? The second word on clear - Inkurabili. It is the first almost erased. Remaining fragments, something like "aTape. What does it mean? Let's ask the locals. Do you see the old man out of the house just on the quay ...

Aha! He says that "aTape" - is part of the word "tar" in the Venetian dialect "dzattere" - "nab". But you hear how he calls this place! It is "fondamenta degli inkurabili. Consequently, Brodsky everything right.

You know, in New York, he gave me to read this essay in manuscript - in English. Title it was in Italian: Fondamenta degli Incurabili. In a conversation Brodsky said: in Russian is "incurable Quay. (This is because in this place once existed hospital compound where incurable syphilitics.) I said then that "incurable" sounds better "incurable". He immediately agreed: yes, it is better. American publishers have asked him to change the name of the Italian and the English version of an essay came to be called Watermark (mark depth). I have kept a copy of this book with the inscription: "From Joseph's incurable."

And here is another attraction. You see, just a hundred meters from the embankment incurable house at number 923. Here, and still lives, Robert Morgan, a friend of Joseph Brodsky, who is devoted to this essay, the American artist, one day arriving in Venice, and stayed here. He now writes his work, and successfully sell them. They agreed with Brodsky, oddly enough, on a common interest in the history of world wars and the work of intelligence agencies. For some reason, Joseph is interested. In short, with Morgan, they were to talk about. Gradually, they became friends and often met here in the Cafe "Nico", next to the entrance of the house of Robert. By the way, he also brought Joseph and a restaurant "Locanda Montin, where his picture hangs. It is five minutes from home 923. Soon "Monteen" became one of the favorite schools Brodsky.

When I once again went to Venice, he asked me where I usually have lunch. And with his meticulous attention and gave three favorite addresses, among whom was this. Another - Trattoria Alla Rivett - not far from San Marco, serving chiketti - small sandwich, which Joseph adored. And the last addressed personally to me more like the other - pub "Mascaron, near the church of Santa Maria Formosa. There, on the simple wooden tables, paper tablecloths, hanging from the ceiling lights on the fence wires, and the menu only three or four dishes. You do not want - do not eat. But if you like - do not be sorry. Joseph loved the simplicity and lack of pomp, me too.

Well, it's all about the Quay incurable. Take a look at last through the strait on the neighboring island of Giudecca. This is perhaps the only place in Venice, which reminds the Neva. Maybe that's why it was dear to him. I do not know, he never said anything about it.

Hostel "Academy", San Pietro

The first time Joseph came to Venice 35 years ago, the winter of 1973. Met him and took him to his first Venetian harbor - board "Academy". On this he has a certificate in "Quai incurable:" We landed on the wharf Accademia, after being captured solid topography and the corresponding code of ethics. After a short walk along the narrow lanes of I was taken to the lobby to surrender the monastery guesthouse, kiss on the cheek - rather like the Minotaur I thought, than as a valiant hero, - and wished good-night ... A few minutes later I looked at the furniture, then fell asleep. "

35 years ago, this boarding house was very lucky: there lived a man who wrote in the same 73-m his famous "Laguna:" Three old women with knitting in deep armchairs /talk in the lobby of the pain of the Cross; /board "Academy" with /the whole universe swims for Christmas the roar /TV ...". In the 93-m I stayed here and sent Brodsky postcard from this board, so it was pleasant.

Just lucky hotel "Londra" on the waterfront Schiavoni: here in the 77-m Joseph wrote a poem "San Pietro" on the Venetian island of the same name in the Castello, which pleased him very much. There are rarely tourists, these are working fishing districts of Venice, something reminiscent of his favorite Minor Ohta in Petersburg. Here the old dilapidated house with high chimneys "fumayoli", the ancient cathedral of San Pietro with the crooked tower. With half of the fifteenth to the early nineteenth century, he, rather than San Marco, a cathedral city. Brodsky's poem about the famous Venetian fog - Nebb: "... Electricity /continues in the afternoon to burn in a tavern. /Limestone pavement pours yellow /fried fish ... /cigarettes released for the guest /returns after ten minutes to myself /by proburavlennomu in the fog /his own body the tunnel "...

He loved to wander through these streets, in a remote part of Venice, past the north wall of the Arsenal, which is visible from the island of San Michele, past the long wall of the hospital to the Piazza San Giovanni e Paolo: "... clinging to the walls of the hospital, almost touching her left shoulder and squinting in the sun, I suddenly realized: I am a cat. The cat who ate the fish. Turn to me someone at this point, I would miaow. I was absolutely, the animal happy. "

Venice - a city cat, a symbol of her - a lion, the cat family. Joseph himself adored cats, and his wife Maria called their house cat Mississippi and Joseph - cats. Hey, cats, come here! What is characteristic, and both responded immediately. He loved to repeat after Akhmatova, as you can define people: "M. - cat - coffee" or "Pasternak - dog - tea. He himself, of course, was "M. - cat - coffee." Yes, and I, frankly, there is closer to him. Like many other things.

No, I can not say that we were friends with Joseph. After all, friendship - a ratio equal. Here's a Dovlatov we were friends. And in our relationship with Joseph, I have always looked upwards. It was impossible to lose the feeling that next to you a man of genius. One girl from our company, with which Brodsky was hardly knew, asked him for his birthday. That was before the NOBEL PRIZE. And he unexpectedly arrived. 20 people crowded into one dvadtsatimetrovoy room. And 19 people in one half and one - Joseph - in the other. There, on his part, was a circle of light from the lamp on the floor, and he drew thoughtfully on his foot. You see, no one dared to approach him and talk. Then I plucked up courage and went and we started talking about classical poetry. In any company, where he appeared, it became instantly clear: there was something significant. Such was the scale of the individual.

I once asked him: to whom do you think about how the elder? It is to reflect and say that perhaps only two people: to Czeslaw Milosz and Loewe Losev. Although Lev Losev was older than his total for 3 years.

I think that Mary was fully aware that her husband - a brilliant poet. She saw and heard it the first time in his public speech in Paris. Then she wrote him a letter. They corresponded for a long time. Not by e-mail (then it was not common), and on paper, with envelope, address, written by hand, and the mailbox. (By the way, Joseph has not mastered the computer, used a typewriter before the end of life.) And so, when, after this lengthy correspondence they met, and Joseph fell in love immediately. He took her to Sweden and two months later they were married in Stockholm. It is stunningly beautiful, such a Bellini Madonna with beautiful heavy hair. At home, they spoke with Joseph English, even though Mary knew Russian (her mother was from a sort Trubetskoys-Baryatinsky, and his father - an Italian, Vincenzo Sotstsani was a senior manager at Pirelli's). When Brodsky had guests from Russia, they spoke in Russian. Only when the conversation touched so complicated, Maria apologized and switched to English, so it was easier. It is well established, graduated from the Venice Conservatory, knows music. Once we started talking about Alban Berg, and I have mentioned, among other things, the date of his birth and death. Joseph asked: Do you want to say that you know the dates of the life of Alban Berg? This simply can not be! Mary, do you hear, he claims that he remembers the date of birth and death of Alban Berg. Check, please!

This was typical for him. He would not accept the fact that someone might know something he does not know. Sam Joseph was a phenomenally educated and informed person, not like me. But the case with him this: he did not like, if someone of something he knew more. One day, we argued about Charlie Parker. Brodsky argued that Parker played tenor saxophone, but I knew exactly what to alto. In short, they argued for a bottle of good wine. After some time I brought him proof, but got a bottle of horseradish. Naturally, he does not lose regretted: in general was very generous and generous man, loved to make gifts, and not just, namely expensive gifts. But the story he once shook: he did not like to lose.

Palazzo Marcello

This palace in Rio de Verona belonged to Count Girolamo Marcello, a representative one of the most distinguished patrician families of Venice. His ancestors in the Doge and the two composers, the name of one of them - Benedetto Marcello - called the Venice Conservatory. Here Brodsky stopped in recent years, his visits to Venice. With Marcello introduced him to Maria, they became friends. It appears that Joseph was well here. On his recommendation, and my wife and I once met with the count and had been invited as guests. This was very impressed because we were inside this Venetian palazzo. On the ground floor - it is empty - was a booth for the gondola, "feltse. In the Venetian tradition, the boat owned gondolier, and noble man belongs here, this cabin, which shows the heraldic symbols of family and genus.

Marcello pointed to the portrait of her distant ancestor on the wall: this is supposedly a copy and the original - in the Uffizi Gallery, as the author - Titian. One room on the upper floors painted with frescoes. He waved his hand: nonsense, just the 18th century. In the library shelves of the archives are divided into two parts: those that "before Napoleon," and those that "after". I was holding a "Divine Comedy" in 1484 edition and the "Decameron" in 1527. There were marks marchellovskogo ancestor, the reader of the eighteenth century.

One of the last poems of Joseph Brodsky - "from nature" - is written here and is dedicated to the owner of the house Girolamo Marcello: "... Here, where so much /spilled semen, tears, joy /and wine in the alley of heaven on earth /in the evening I was standing there, absorbing /strongly skukozhivsheysya rubber /easy to clean autumn-winter, /pink on the tiled roofs /Local air that enough /not nadyshishsya, especially at last! "/release smelling cells /time.

It is not just a premonition of death, this knowledge of her.

San Michele

Everyone says that he does not spare himself: two heart surgeries, and had quit smoking and of strong coffee did not refuse. I have on this subject has its own consideration. I mean, the man who once found the strength to stand up from his desk in the eighth grade and for all leave the school, a man who allowed himself to be dependent solely on his talent and no one, and of anything more, a man with a rare feeling indeed freedom - such a man would not and could not afford to depend even from his own body, from his ailments and infirmities. He chose not to obey and there.

The place chosen for the burial of Joseph Maria. I mean not only the cemetery on the island of San Michele, but the very geographical point - Venice. This is exactly halfway between Russia, the Motherland (Brodsky always said "Fatherland"), and America, which gave him shelter when the Homeland chased. Well then, he really loved this city. Most of all cities on earth.

He had not been truly buried in New York, where he died January 28, 1996. At the cemetery in Upper Manhattan was a niche in the wall where moved into the coffin and closed the oven. Eighteen months later the coffin was lowered into the ground, here, at San Michele. У Иосифа тут замечательное соседство, через ограду - Дягилев, Стравинский. На табличке с указателями направления к их могилам я тогда от руки написал фломастером и имя Бродского. Эту надпись все время подновляют приходящие к его могиле.

К церемонии перезахоронения Иосифа на Сан-Микеле съехалось много народу, его друзей, близких. Президент Ельцин прислал роскошный венок. Правда, какой-то идиот из совсем уж перегретых антисоветчиков переложил этот венок на могилу Эзры Паунда.

В тот вечер в июне 97-го мы все собрались в палаццо Мочениго на Большом канале, которое тогда арендовали американские друзья Марии. И это был замечательный вечер, поскольку боль потери уже успела приглушиться, и все просто общались, выпивали, вели себя так, словно он вышел в соседнюю комнату. Кстати, о комнатах. Этот вечер проходил как раз в тех апартаментах, где жил когда-то Байрон.

Через два дня мы с Лосевым, Алешковским и Барышниковым приехали на Сан-Микеле к его могиле. Еще раз помянули его, выпили... Миша взял метлу и аккуратно все подмел вокруг. Такая картинка: Барышников с метлой у могилы Бродского...

А надгробие сделал хороший знакомый Иосифа еще по Нью-Йорку, художник Володя Радунский, они жили по соседству, их дети играли вместе (сейчас Володя живет в Риме). Получилось скромное, изящное, в античном стиле надгробие с короткой надписью на лицевой стороне на русском и английском: "Иосиф Бродский Joseph Brodsky 24 мая 1940 г. - 28 января 1996 г.". Правда, на обратной стороне есть еще одна надпись по латыни - цитата из его любимого Проперция: Letum non omnia finit - со смертью все не кончается.

...А если так, то что же остается?

Остается чистый розовый от здешних черепичных крыш воздух, несущий запах мерзлых водорослей, чешуйчатая рябь водички в лагуне перед палаццо Дукале, бирюзовый отсвет каналов в тихом Канареджо, теплый мрамор стен, помнящий тысячи прикосновений, колокольный звон, который будит вас по утрам...

Вы хотели бы встретиться с Бродским? Извольте. Он здесь. Сделайте только шаг.
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Иосиф Бродский

* * *
Что касается звёзд, то они всегда.
То есть, если одна, то за ней другая.
Только так оттуда и можно смотреть сюда;
вечером, после восьми, мигая.
Небо выглядит лучше без них. Although
освоение космоса лучше, если
с ними. Но именно не сходя
с места, на голой веранде, в кресле.
Как сказал, половину лица в тени
пряча, пилот одного снаряда,
жизни, видимо, нету нигде, и ни
на одной из них не задержишь взгляда.