Alexander Vertinsky 121

[Евгений]

"His star has risen quickly - in the distant pre-revolutionary Russia.
He applauded New York, London, Paris.
In Shanghai, he fell in love with 16-year old Georgian princess Lydia Tsirgvavu-Dadiani ...."
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Lydia Vertinsky: "I was a JNA, inexperienced, had no idea of life, but I wanted to protect him"

"No one more beautiful than it is not. And I never will"

One day, on Easter morning in our small company to listen to any suggestions Vertinsky. Until then, I knew Vertinsky only on plates and was a fan of his, but never himself had not seen. And we have come to the cabaret "Renaissance".

Dimly lit room in cigarette smoke. A small elevation for jazz. On the scene pianist. And beside there is a man in an elegant black tuxedo. Vertinsky! What is he tall! Person no longer young. His hair was combed smoothly. Profile of a Roman patrician! He instantly looked hushed hall and sang.

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I was his speech made a huge impression. Its slim amazing and expressive plastic hands, his style bow - always a bit careless, a little haughtily. The words of his songs, where every word and phrase, uttered, sounded so beautiful and elegant. I've never heard that sounded so beautiful Russian speech, the words struck a rich tone. I was fascinated and captured the sweet prisoner.

... Somehow, that evening I especially remember how he sang "Farewell Dinner":
"
I know, even the ships
Need wharf.
But not like we do!
Not us
Rogue and artists! "

The last phrase he uttered almost defiantly, as if throwing the gauntlet someone invisible in the room. And it was there at the moment so much dignity, pride, acting!

But at that moment I did not feel anything for him, but ... pity. I was the JNA, inexperienced, had no idea of life, but I wanted to protect him. The words of this song struck and painfully wounded me.

And all my nerazbuzhennuyu tenderness and love, I was ready to give him. Give with joy. Because no one more beautiful than it is not. And never in my life will not be. I knew it, sitting in a smoke-filled room "Renaissance". In the same way as seventeen years later - on that day in May, when the House stood at the stage of his coffin with our girls ...

Fortunately, at our table were his friends. He walked. We were introduced. I said: "Sit down, Alexander. He sat down - and then repeatedly said: "I sat down - and forever." The attraction was mutual.


"He called me Lila, but I did Sandro"

We started dating. Alexander invited me to their performances. He sang, and I listened to ... Vertinsky me completely enchanted.

Himself he called "Caucasian captive", he was very pleased when he found out I was on a Georgian father, as he always loved the Georgians. "I love them very much" - he said and asked: "What do you Georgians name?" I replied that I was all the name Lily, but the Georgians do not pronounce the letter "I", and therefore they do "Lila.

Alexander smiled: "How wonderful it is, I'll call you, too, Lila, but me and you then call me Sandra. This we played. He called me Lila, but I did Sandro.

All week I was busy at work, and only on Saturdays and Sundays were free. We began to meet frequently - on Saturdays or Sundays. But in the remaining days of Alexander missed, and then we began to correspond. From this time I still have all his letters and poems. I never thought that they print. Why? Who needs them, except for my daughters, and perhaps grandchildren? But more often I reread the yellowed pages, covered with large distinctive handwriting of Alexander Nikolayevich, the more insistent, haunting idea - can not, should not this wealth belong to me alone.


"We already do not write ..."

In these letters, all Vertinsky, as I knew him. Passionate, generous, loving, knowing what a true sense of the true suffering. We already do not write ...

"19 night, at home. Yet still want to talk to you, my little friend. That's one poet has these lines:

"The first time I see the water of the Nile,
How beautiful it is, Diven and far!
You know, if you loved me,
I would have burned like coal! "

Now I have a watch. They are ticking. It's better than silence. Still, someone somewhere in a hurry, trying, late. I fear that the letter would not arrive tomorrow, and you do not call me. As for Sunday. Remember, I will read, Larissa Andersen says:

"Happiness" Hush. Fortunately, to steal,
Teeth clenched, and put out the lights
Because he knows, knows happiness
As always chasing after him! "

Who can now believe in luck? In particular, if it is in such irresponsible and fragile hands, like yours, my dear? "

Here's another letter.

"Finally, this morning I was handed your letter, and all my night terrors in smoke. The letter, as always, a little messy, but with such a charming phrase at the end that I had a whole week will be a good mood.

Yes, it is clear that my mood is at the end of your thin fingers. Like Blok:

"You're holding a sea and land
still thin hand! "

And for the pessimism of my yesterday's letter you, please do not be angry, my little lady! Remember that I said in the Georgian ball one person? "Vertinsky - You Prisoner of the Caucasus. And the captives should be well treated. All those days I was nervous because of your silence and badly behaved. Drank a lot. Now I'm relaxed. On Sunday offer you an hour of the day to have breakfast with me in "Constantinople", which give your national dish, and then we'll see, or movies, or Dzhesfild Park *. Meet me (the time depends on you), then go to the cafe or cinema. And in the evening to go to Layseum on symphony. The fourth - the day go somewhere together, and in the evening to go with me to the Renaissance.

But Sunday soon.

My eye hurts! Dust flew, nasty Shanghai. And what you have gait! Evenly, with great dignity, as if you have gone for a minute and in a hurry to see this city, and the train was leaving his post soon. So go to foreign nationals in Belgium, when visiting the Dead Bruges. I adore you, my little Georgian!
Sandra

* Dzhesfild Park - a huge botanical garden in Shanghai.

During our acquaintance in Shanghai Vertinsky wrote several poems dedicated to me. The nice thing of them:


Salvation

She's like an icon -
Forever. Forever.
And like she Eaglet,
Fell from the nest.

The young Eaglet,
Rising from the rocks
And her voice ringing
I'm somewhere in a dream heard.

And look at it - as a bird
When on the mountain tops
Green light flashes of lightning
Her eyes lit up.

It will not keep in a cage,
And I said to her: "Fly!
Your rebellious ancestors
You will save in the way. "

But in my life sleepily empty
She calmly entered,
Soul of my book evil
She read to the end.

And I did not say
But her gaze was stern
And, like a snake sting
Struck me l

[Allena]

In the 1990's in publishing, it seems, "Pravda" published an amazing book "The Long Road ...". The book contains memories and letters A. Vertinsky. It seems that now, I've heard this book being reprinted. I highly recommend anyone interested in not only creativity, but also life and personality of this worthy man.