A very valuable article for both the viewer and the professional artist.
Why is Aivazovsky’s sea so living, breathing and transparent? What is the axis of any of his paintings? Where should we look to fully enjoy his masterpieces? As he wrote: long, short, joyful or painful? And what does impressionism have to do with Aivazovsky?
Of course, Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky was born a genius. But there was also a craft that he mastered brilliantly and the intricacies of which he wanted to understand. So, from what were they born? sea foam and Aivazovsky’s lunar paths?
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Storm off the rocky coast.
“Secret colors”, Aivazovsky wave, glaze
Ivan Kramskoy wrote to Pavel Tretyakov: “Aivazovsky probably has the secret of composing paints, and even the paints themselves are secret; I have never seen such bright and pure tones even on the shelves of mosquito stores.” Some of Aivazovsky’s secrets have reached us, although the main one is not a secret at all: in order to paint the sea like this, you need to be born near the sea, live near it long life, for which they will never get enough of it.
The famous “Aivazovsky wave” is a foamed, almost transparent sea wave, feels like it’s moving, swift, alive. The artist achieved transparency using the glaze technique, that is, applying the thinnest layers of paint on top of each other. Aivazovsky preferred oil, but often his waves appear watercolor. It is as a result of glazing that the image acquires this transparency, and the colors seem very saturated, but not due to the density of the stroke, but due to the special depth and subtlety. Aivazovsky's masterly glazing is a delight for collectors: most of his paintings are in excellent condition - the thinnest layers of paint are less susceptible to cracking.
Aivazovsky wrote quickly, often creating works in one session, so his glazing technique had his own nuances. Here is what Nikolai Barsamov, the long-term director of the Feodosia Art Gallery and the greatest connoisseur of Aivazovsky’s work, writes about this: “...he sometimes glazed water over a semi-dry underpainting. Often the artist glazed the waves at their base, which gave depth and strength to the colorful tone and achieved the effect of a transparent wave. Sometimes significant planes of the painting were darkened by glazing. But glaze in Aivazovsky’s painting was not mandatory the last stage work, as was the case with the old masters using the three-layer painting method. All of his painting was basically done in one step, and he often used glazing as one of the ways of applying a layer of paint on white ground at the beginning of work, and not just as final markings at the end of the work. The artist sometimes used glazing at the first stage of work, covering large areas of the painting with a translucent layer of paint and using the white primer of the canvas as a luminous lining. This is how he sometimes wrote water. By skillfully distributing layers of paint of varying densities across the canvas, Aivazovsky achieved a true representation of the transparency of water.”
Aivazovsky turned to glazing not only when working on waves and clouds, but with their help he was able to breathe life into land. “Aivazovsky painted earth and stones with rough bristly brushes. It is possible that he specially trimmed them so that the hard ends of the bristles would leave grooves on the paint layer,” says art critic Barsamov. — Paint in these places is usually applied dense layer. As a rule, Aivazovsky almost always glazed the land. The glaze (darker) tone, falling into the furrows from the bristles, gave a peculiar liveliness to the paint layer and greater reality to the depicted form.”
As for the question “where do the paints come from?”, it is known that in recent years he bought paints from the Berlin company Mewes. It's simple. But there is also a legend: it is as if Aivazovsky bought paints from Turner. On this score, only one thing can be said: theoretically it is possible, but even if so, Aivazovsky certainly did not paint all 6,000 of his works with Turner paints. And the painting to which the impressed Turner dedicated the poem was created by Aivazovsky even before he met the great British marine painter.
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Bay of Naples on a moonlit night.
“In your picture I see the moon with its gold and silver, standing above the sea, reflected in it. The surface of the sea, onto which a light breeze blows a quivering swell, seems like a field of sparks. Forgive me, great artist, if I was mistaken in mistaking the picture for reality, but your work enchanted me, and delight took possession of me. Your art is eternal and powerful, because you are inspired by genius,” William Turner’s poem about Aivazovsky’s painting “The Bay of Naples on a Moonlit Night.”
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Among the waves.
The main thing is to start, or At the pace of Aivazovsky
Aivazovsky always began his work with an image of the sky, and painted it in one step - it could be 10 minutes or 6 hours. He painted the light in the sky not with the side surface of the brush, but with its end, that is, he “illuminated” the sky with numerous quick touches of the brush. The sky is ready - you can relax, get distracted (however, he allowed himself this only with paintings, which took quite a lot of time). He could write the sea in several passes.
According to Ivan Aivazovsky, working on a painting for a long time means, for example, painting one canvas for 10 days. This is exactly how long it took the artist, who was 81 years old at the time, to create his most big picture- “Among the waves.” At the same time, according to him, his whole life was preparation for this picture. That is, the work required maximum effort from the artist - and ten whole days. But in the history of art, it is not uncommon for paintings to take twenty or more years to be painted (for example, Fyodor Bruni wrote his “Copper Serpent” for 14 years, began in 1827, and finished in 1841).
In Italy, Aivazovsky at a certain period became friends with Alexander Ivanov, the same one who wrote “The Appearance of Christ to the People” for 20 years, from 1837 to 1857. They even tried to work together, but pretty soon they quarreled. Ivanov could work on a sketch for months, trying to achieve the special accuracy of a poplar leaf, but during this time Aivazovsky managed to go all over the neighborhood and paint several paintings: “I can’t paint quietly, I can’t pore for months. I don’t leave the picture until I speak out.” Such different talents, different ways of creating - hard labor and joyful admiration of life - could not stay close for long.
Ivan Aivazovsky next to his painting, photograph from 1898.
Aivazovsky at the easel.
“The furnishings of the workshop were exceptionally simple. In front of the easel stood a simple chair with a wicker reed seat, the back of which was covered with a rather thick layer of paint, since Aivazovsky had the habit of throwing his arm and brush over the back of the chair and, sitting half-turned towards the painting, looking at it,” from the memoirs of Konstantin Artseulov , this grandson of Aivazovsky also became an artist.
Creativity as joy
Aivazovsky’s muse (excuse us for this pompousness) is joyful, not painful. “By the lightness, the apparent ease of the movement of the hand, by the satisfied expression on the face, one could safely say that such work is a true pleasure,” these are the impressions of an official of the Ministry of the Imperial Court, writer Vasily Krivenko, who watched Aivazovsky work.
Aivazovsky, of course, saw that for many artists their gift is either a blessing or a curse; some paintings are painted almost in blood, depleting and exhausting their creator. For him, approaching the canvas with a brush was always the most great joy and happiness, he found special lightness and omnipotence in his workshop. At the same time, Aivazovsky listened carefully to practical advice and did not brush aside the comments of people whom he valued and respected. Although not enough to believe that the lightness of his brush is a drawback.
Plein air VS workshop
Only the lazy did not talk about the importance of working with nature in those years. Aivazovsky preferred to make fleeting sketches from life and paint in the studio. “Preferred” is perhaps not quite the right word; it’s not a matter of convenience, it was his fundamental choice. He believed that it was impossible to depict from life the movement of the elements, the breath of the sea, the rumble of thunder and the flash of lightning - and this is precisely what interested him. Aivazovsky had a phenomenal memory and considered it his task “on location” to absorb what was happening. To feel and remember, in order to return to the studio and throw out these sensations on canvas - that’s what nature is needed for. At the same time, Aivazovsky was an excellent copyist. While studying with Maxim Vorobyov, he demonstrated this skill to the fullest. But copying - even someone’s paintings, even nature - seemed to him much less than he could do.
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Amalfi Bay in 1842. Sketch. 1880s
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Coast in Amalfi.
The artist Ilya Ostroukhov left detailed memories of Aivazovsky’s rapid work and what his sketches from life were like:
"With the manner of execution artwork I happened to become acquainted with the late famous marine painter Aivazovsky in 1889, during one of my trips abroad, to Biarritz. At approximately the same time that I arrived in Biarritz, Aivazovsky also arrived there. The venerable artist was already, as I remember, about seventy years old... Having learned that I was well acquainted with the topography of the area, [he] immediately took me for a walk along the ocean shore. It was a stormy day, and Aivazovsky, enchanted by the view of the ocean waves, stopped on the beach...
Keeping his eyes on the ocean and the landscape of the distant mountains, he slowly took out his tiny notebook and drew just three lines with a pencil - the outline of the distant mountains, the line of the ocean at the base of these mountains, and the line of the coast away from him. Then we went further with him. Having walked about a mile, he stopped again and made the same drawing of several lines in the other direction.
“It’s a cloudy day today,” said Aivazovsky, “and you, please, just tell me where the sun rises and sets here.”
I pointed. Aivazovsky put several dots in the book and hid the book in his pocket.
- Now let's go. That's enough for me. Tomorrow I will paint the ocean surf in Biarritz.
The next day, three spectacular paintings of the sea surf were actually painted: in Biarritz: in the morning, at noon and at sunset...”
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Biarritz. 1889
Aivazovsky's sun, or what does impressionism have to do with it
The Armenian artist Martiros Saryan noticed that no matter what grandiose storm Aivazovsky depicts, in the upper part of the canvas a ray of light will always break through the accumulation of thunderclouds - sometimes clear, sometimes subtle and barely noticeable: “It is in it, this Light, that the meaning of all lies. storms depicted by Aivazovsky."
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Storm on the North Sea.
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Moonlight night. 1849
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Bay of Naples on a moonlit night. 1892
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. The ship "Empress Maria" during a storm. 1892
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Moonlight night in Capri. 1841
If this is the sun, then it will illuminate the blackest storm, if it is a lunar path, then it will fill the entire canvas with its flickering. We are not going to call Aivazovsky either an impressionist or a forerunner of impressionism. But let us quote the words of art patron Alexei Tomilov - he criticizes Aivazovsky’s paintings: “The figures are sacrificed to such an extent that it is impossible to recognize whether in the foreground they are men or women (...) air and water flaunt.” We say about the impressionists that the main characters of their paintings are color and light, one of the main tasks is the transfer of light-air mass. In Aivazovsky’s works, light comes first, and yes, quite rightly, air and water (in his case it’s about sky and sea). Everything else is built around this main thing.
He strives not only to depict believably, but to convey sensations: the sun should shine so that you want to close your eyes, the viewer will shrink from the wind, and recoil in fear from the waves. The latter, in particular, was done by Repin when Aivazovsky suddenly opened the door of the room in front of him, behind which his “The Ninth Wave” stood.
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Ninth wave.
How to look at Aivazovsky's paintings
The artist gave completely unambiguous recommendations: you should look for the brightest point on the canvas, the source of light, and, having peered closely at it, glide your gaze across the canvas. For example, when he was reproached that “Moonlit Night” was not finished, he argued that if the viewer “pays the main attention to the moon and gradually, sticking to the interesting point of the picture, glances at other parts of the picture in passing, and beyond that, not forgetting that This is a night that deprives us of all reflection, then such a viewer will find that this picture is more finished than it should be.”
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Moonlit night in Crimea. Gurzuf, 1839, 101×136.5 cm.
Konstantin Aivazovsky is not one of those artists who loses inspiration during the process and abandons his work unfinished. But one day this happened to him too - he did not finish the painting “The Explosion of the Ship” (1900). Death got in the way. This unfinished work is especially valuable for researchers of his work. It allows you to understand what the artist considered to be the main thing in the picture, and what elements he began working on. We see that Aivazovsky started with a ship and the flame of an explosion - something that will touch the viewer’s soul. And the artist left the details that the viewer will simply glide over for later.
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Ship explosion. 1900
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovski. Azure Grotto. Naples. 1841
The modern viewer is sometimes discouraged by the intense coloring of Aivazovsky’s paintings, his bright, uncompromising colors. There is an explanation for this. And this is not at all a bad taste of the artist.
Fragment of Ivan Aivazovsky’s painting “Ship in the Stormy Sea” (Hermitage).
Today we look at Aivazovsky’s marinas in museums. Often these are provincial galleries, with dilapidated interiors and without special lighting, which is replaced simply by light from the window. But during Aivazovsky’s life, his paintings hung in rich living rooms and even in palaces. Under stucco ceilings, on walls covered with luxurious trellises, in the light of chandeliers and candelabra. It is quite possible that the artist was careful that his paintings would not get lost against the backdrop of colorful carpets and gilded furniture.
Experts say that Aivazovsky’s night landscapes, which often look rustic in poor natural light or under rare lamps, come to life, becoming mysterious and noble, as the artist intended them, when viewed by candlelight. Especially those paintings that Aivazovsky painted by candlelight.
Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, whose real name is “Hovhannes Ayvazyan,” was a collector and philanthropist, but in the first degree he is still an artist, and the most talented and outstanding in his genre.
In fact, since the artist’s family, having escaped the genocide, moved to Poland, their surname was pronounced in the Polish manner “Gayvazyan”, and Ivan later became Gayvazovsky. Later he called himself, which variation has survived to this day, Aivazovsky, but the whole world remembers this man as an outstanding marine painter and battle painter. Many critics responded positively to his paintings, and today the top five masterpieces of Ivan Konstantinovich, compiled from those paintings by the artist that have gained worldwide fame, will be presented. So, the five most famous paintings I.K. Aivazovsky.
First place. The world famous "Ninth Wave"
Legends were made about this picture. It is the best and truly stunning creation of Aivazovsky, in which he was able to convey all the beauty of the sea during a storm. The huge size of the painting makes you raise your eyebrows in silent surprise, because such a work, detailed and masterfully painted on such a scale, is not something everyone can do.
Ivan Konstantinovich wrote the canvas in just eleven days, continuing the tradition of quick writing and without changing it at all. The ideal construction, extraordinary plot and the very mood of the picture amaze even ordinary people who are far from art. In the center of the picture and the composition itself are the unfortunate, but still surviving sailors, clinging to the mast, who are about to be swallowed up by the elements, putting an end to their fate. And somewhere on the horizon the first rays are drawn with light, almost careless strokes rising sun. The storm is coming to an end. The cold hell is retreating. Truly harmony after destruction.
Second place. Victorious "Chesme Battle"
The history of Russia is gilded with the glory of many and many victories, but this one is remembered for its special merits. The Battle of Chesme is an episode of the Russian-Turkish War of 1768-1774, which thundered back in 1770. It was after this battle that Count A. Orlov, one of the ruler’s favorites, who commanded the fleet, reported to Empress Catherine the Great about seizing control of the Dardanelles.
The artist, with a truly academic brush, paints the fading glow of a bloody battle, deafeningly merciless. The enemy ships have been sunk, and in some places their masts are still burning out, casting a red glow into the water; In the sky, the moon shines like a dragon's eye, faded and lifeless. Black, as if the sky was sprinkled with ash. Color contrasts.
The canvas, oddly enough, is distinguished by its amazing tranquility: everything is over, the sailors lay down their arms and heal the wounded, celebrating the victory. Life has triumphed, it just has to be returned to its usual cycle, although there are still four whole years of war ahead. An atmospheric and exclusive masterpiece.
Third place. Alarming "Rainbow"
Whatever one may say, but The painter's favorite theme is restless water. A storm that scars the surface of the sea and throws sea inhabitants ashore, thunderclaps, flashes of lightning in the pitch darkness. Oceanic romance, beautiful, but no less unpredictable, alien to those who do not love the sea. And Aivazovsky loved the sea like no one else.
The painting depicts his favorite state of the sea. The ship, dangerously tilted to the left, is about to be swallowed up into a citadel of maddened bitter water; a couple of boats, like pieces of wood, are tossed by the waves, forcing the people sitting in them to lose their last hope of salvation. But there is a rainbow in the sky. According to the Bible, God created the rainbow as part of an oath to never again send a flood to his children. Maybe this is a mysterious sign to sailors..? A beautiful painting with deep meaning.
Fourth place. The quiet surface of the painting “Black Sea”
The Black Sea has always been known as a bastion of tranquility. Seagulls cutting through the endless horizons of dark water (from which the sea got its name), warm, humid air, scorching sun. The local seaside towns are known as health resorts, and they also train defenders of the Motherland, for whom this sea becomes a kind of alma mater. And Ivan Konstantinovich’s attention also did not ignore this picturesque corner of Russia.
The Black Sea is depicted as a serene cradle of life in the artist’s painting. With masterful strokes, he perfects the play of waves in a light breeze. Such a sea caresses the shore and shakes the jellyfish that shine through clear water, appearing black and blue only from afar. Such a sea beckons, promising to warm you in its salty embrace, but the impression is deceptive: clouds are gathering, and soon this calm may come to an end.
A lonely ship sails on the brightening horizon, unaware of the impending danger. But will he escape the fate of being buried in this still calm water?
Fifth place. "Among the Waves", impressive and surprising
This picture is placed at the end of the rating not at all because it is somehow worse than others: Aivazovsky does not have bad films. But this one chronological sequence was later than all the previous ones, and it is precisely this that can be considered a definite, even iconic and symbolic, kind of “creative testament” of a marine painter who found his unique style and put his whole soul into the creation.
This painting can be called a logical or, rather, poetic continuation of the “Black Sea”. Both continuation and completion. There the storm only shows the first signs, hinting that it will soon break out, but here it shows itself as an inexorable element, ready to devour the skies themselves, painted in dark green turquoise at the top of the picture.
You can see the pale flashes of the waves, you can almost hear the dangerous, inviting sound of the water. This is night, this is the epicenter of a spontaneous explosion. At that time, eighty-two-year-old Konstantin Ivanovich was able to show how tragic and troublesome a storm can be. “In his storm there is rapture, there is eternal beauty...” - Dostoevsky wrote much earlier than this picture appeared, the picture-culmination of Aivazovsky’s brilliant creativity. Masterpiece.
Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky (Hovhannes Ayvazyan) was born in Feodosia on July 29, 1817. His father, Konstantin Grigorievich Aivazovsky, an Armenian by nationality, married a fellow Armenian named Hripsime. Ivan (or Hovhannes - this was the name he was given at birth) had three sisters and a brother Gabriel (at birth - Sargis), who later became an Armenian historian and priest. Konstantin Aivazovsky was a merchant, initially quite successful, but in 1812 he went bankrupt due to the plague epidemic.Even as a child, Ivan Aivazovsky showed extraordinary artistic and musical abilities - for example, he mastered playing the violin without outside help. Yakov Khristianovich Kokh, an architect from Feodosia, was the first who noticed the artistic talents of young Ivan, and taught him elementary lessons skill. He supplied Aivazovsky with pencils, paper, paints, and also attracted the attention of A.I. Kaznacheev, the mayor of Feodosia, to the boy’s talents.
Aivazovsky graduated from the Feodosia district school, then was admitted to the Simferopol gymnasium with the assistance of the mayor, who by that time had already become an admirer of the young man’s talent. Following this, he was enrolled in the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts (education in which was carried out at the expense of the state), thanks to the recommendation German painter Johann Ludwig Gross - the first drawing teacher of the young Aivazovsky. Sixteen-year-old Ivan Aivazovsky arrived in St. Petersburg in 1833.
In 1835, Aivazovsky’s landscapes “View of the Seaside in the Vicinity of St. Petersburg” and “Study of Air over the Sea” were awarded a silver medal, and the artist was appointed assistant to the fashionable French landscape painter Philippe Tanner. The latter forbade Aivazovsky to paint on his own, but the young artist continued to paint landscapes, and in the fall of 1836, five of his paintings were presented at an exhibition at the Academy of Arts, all of which received favorable reviews from critics.
But Philip Tanner filed a complaint against Aivazovsky to the Tsar, and on the instructions of Nicholas I, all the artist’s works were removed from the exhibition. Aivazovsky was pardoned six months later. He was transferred to the military class sea painting under the guidance of Professor Alexander Ivanovich Sauerweid. After several months of studying with Sauerweid, Aivazovsky experienced unprecedented success - in the fall of 1837 he was awarded the Great Gold Medal for the painting “Calm”, thereby earning the right to travel to the Crimea and Europe.
The period of creativity from 1838 to 1844.
In the spring of 1838, the artist went to Crimea, where he lived until the summer of 1839. The main topic his creativity became not only seascapes, but also battle scenes. At the suggestion of General Raevsky, Aivazovsky took part in military operations on the Circassian coast in the valley of the Shakhe River. There he made sketches for the future painting “Detachment Landing in the Subashi Valley,” which he painted later; then this painting was acquired by Nicholas I. By the fall of 1839, the painter returned to St. Petersburg, and on September 23 he was awarded a certificate of graduation from the Academy of Arts, the first rank and personal nobility.During this period of time, Aivazovsky became a member of the circle of artist Karl Bryullov and composer Mikhail Glinka. In the summer of 1840, the artist and his Academy friend Vasily Sternberg went to Italy. The final destination of their journey was Rome; along the way they stopped in Florence and Venice. In Venice, Aivazovsky made acquaintance with N.V. Gogol, and also visited the island of St. Lazarus, where he met his brother Gabriel. Based in southern Italy, in Sorrento, he worked in his own unique manner - spending only a short time outdoors, and in the workshop he recreated the landscape, improvising and leaving free rein to his imagination. The painting “Chaos” was purchased by Pope Gregory XVI, who gave it to the artist as a reward for this work. gold medal. The “Italian” period of the artist’s work is considered very successful both from a commercial point of view and from a critical point of view - for example, the works of Ivan Konstantinovich earned high praise from the English painter William Turner. The Paris Academy of Arts awarded Aivazovsky's paintings with a gold medal.
In 1842, Aivazovsky visited Switzerland and Germany, then went to Holland, from there to England, and later visited Paris, Portugal and Spain. There were some incidents - in the Bay of Biscay the ship on which Ivan Konstantinovich was sailing was caught in a storm and almost sank, and information about the death of the artist appeared in the Parisian press. In the fall of 1844, Aivazovsky returned to his homeland after a four-year journey.
Further career, period from 1844 to 1895.
In 1844, Ivan Konstantinovich was awarded the title of painter of the Main Naval Staff, in 1847 - professor of the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts. He was honorary member five Academies of Arts in European cities - Paris, Rome, Florence, Stuttgart, Amsterdam.The basis of creativity Aivazovsky was a maritime theme, he created a series of portraits of cities on the Crimean coast. Among marine painters, Aivazovsky has no equal - he captured the sea as a stormy element with menacing foaming waves, and at the same time he painted numerous landscapes of amazing beauty depicting sunrises and sunsets at sea. Although among Aivazovsky’s paintings there are also types of sushi (mainly mountain landscapes), as well as portraits - the sea is undoubtedly his native element.
He was one of the founders of the Cimmerian school of landscape painting, which conveys on canvas the beauty of the Black Sea coast of eastern Crimea.
His career can be called brilliant - he had the rank of rear admiral and was awarded many orders. The total number of works by Aivazovsky exceeds 6,000.
Aivazovsky did not like metropolitan life; he was irresistibly drawn to the sea, and in 1845 he returned to his hometown of Feodosia, where he lived until the end of his life. He received the title of the first honorary citizen of Feodosia.
He was not only an outstanding artist, but also a philanthropist - with the money he earned he founded an art school and an art gallery. Aivazovsky put a lot of effort into the improvement of Feodosia: he initiated the construction railway, which connected Feodosia and Dzhankoy in 1892; thanks to him, water supply appeared in the city. He was also interested in archeology, he was involved in the protection of Crimean monuments, and participated in archaeological excavations (some of the items found were transferred to the Hermitage). On own funds Aivazovsky erected a new building for the Feodosia Historical and Archaeological Museum.
Ivan Konstantinovich donated his work “Walking on the Waters” to the Palestinian society, which was headed by I.I. Tchaikovsky, the brother of the famous composer.
Completion of career and last days of the painter
Aivazovsky died on May 2, 1900 in Feodosia, having reached old age (he lived to be 82 years old).Until his last day, Aivazovsky wrote - one of his latest paintings called “Sea Bay”, and the painting “The Explosion of a Turkish Ship” remained unfinished due to the sudden death of the artist. The unfinished painting remained on the easel in the painter’s studio.
Ivan Konstantinovich buried in Feodosia, in the fence of a medieval Armenian temple. Three years later, the painter’s widow installed a marble tombstone on his grave - a sarcophagus made of white marble by the Italian sculptor L. Biogioli.
In 1930, a monument to Aivazovsky was erected in Feodosia in front of the eponymous art gallery. The painter is represented sitting on a pedestal and peering into the sea, in his hands - a palette and a brush.
Family
Aivazovsky was married twice. He first married in 1848 to an Englishwoman Julia Grevs, daughter of a St. Petersburg doctor. In this marriage, which lasted 12 years, four daughters were born. At first, family life was prosperous, then a crack appeared in the relationship between the spouses - Yulia Yakovlevna wanted to live in the capital, and Ivan Konstantinovich preferred his native Feodosia. The final divorce took place in 1877, and in 1882 Aivazovsky remarried - Anna Nikitichna Sarkisova, a young merchant widow, became his wife. Despite the fact that her husband was almost 40 years older than Anna Sarkisova, Aivazovsky’s second marriage was successful.
An interesting fact is that many of the great painter’s grandchildren followed in his footsteps and became artists.
The sea and Aivazovsky have been synonymous for a century and a half. We say “Aivazovsky” - we imagine the sea, and when we see a sea sunset or storm, a sailboat or foaming surf, calm or sea breeze, we say: “Pure Aivazovsky!”
It's hard not to recognize Aivazovsky. But today “Arthive” will show you a rare and little-known Aivazovsky. Aivazovsky unexpected and unusual. Aivazovsky, whom you may not even immediately recognize. In short, Aivazovsky without the sea.
Winter landscape. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1880s
These are graphic self-portraits of Aivazovsky. Perhaps he is unrecognizable here. And he looks more like not his own picturesque images (see below), but his good friend, with whom he traveled around Italy in his youth - Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol. Self-portrait on the left - Gogol, composing “ Dead Souls"at a table littered with drafts.
Even more interesting is the self-portrait on the right. Why not with a palette and brushes, but with a violin? Because the violin was Aivazovsky’s faithful friend for many years. No one remembered who gave it to 10-year-old Hovhannes, a boy from a large and poor family of Armenian immigrants in Feodosia. Of course, parents couldn’t afford to hire a teacher. But that wasn't necessary. Hovhannes was taught to play by traveling musicians at the Feodosia bazaar. His hearing turned out to be excellent. Aivazovsky could pick out any tune, any melody by ear.
The aspiring artist brought his violin with him to St. Petersburg and played “for the soul.” Often at a party, when Hovhannes made useful acquaintances and began to visit society, he was asked to play the violin. Possessing an easy-going character, Aivazovsky never refused. In the biography of composer Mikhail Glinka, written by Vsevolod Uspensky, there is the following fragment: “Once at the Puppeteer, Glinka met with a student of the Academy of Arts, Aivazovsky. He masterfully sang wild Crimean song, sitting Tatar style on the floor, swaying and holding the violin to his chin. Glinka really liked Aivazovsky’s Tatar tunes; his imagination was attracted to the east from his youth... Two tunes eventually became part of the Lezginka, and the third - in the Ratmir scene in the third act of the opera “Ruslan and Lyudmila.”
Aivazovsky will take his violin with him everywhere. On the ships of the Baltic squadron, his playing entertained the sailors; the violin sang to them about warm seas and a better life. In St. Petersburg, seeing his future wife Julia Grevs for the first time at a social reception (she was just the governess of the master's children), Aivazovsky did not dare to introduce himself - instead, he would again pick up the violin and belt out a serenade in Italian.
An interesting question: why in the picture Aivazovsky does not rest the violin on his chin, but holds it like a cello? Biographer Yulia Andreeva explains this feature as follows: “According to numerous testimonies of contemporaries, he held the violin in an oriental manner, resting it on his left knee. This way he could play and sing at the same time.”
Self-portrait of Ivan Aivazovsky, 1874
And this self-portrait of Aivazovsky is just for comparison: unlike the not so widely known previous ones, the reader is probably familiar with it. But if in the first Aivazovsky reminded Gogol, then in this one, with well-groomed sideburns, he resembled Pushkin. By the way, this was precisely the opinion of Natalya Nikolaevna, the poet’s wife. When Aivazovsky was presented to the Pushkin couple at an exhibition at the Academy of Arts, Natalya Nikolaevna kindly noted that the artist’s appearance very much reminded her of portraits young Alexander Sergeevich.
Petersburg. Crossing the Neva. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1870s
At the first (and if we ignore the legends, then the only) meeting, Pushkin asked Aivazovsky two questions. The first one is more than predictable when you meet someone: where is the artist from? But the second one is unexpected and even somewhat familiar. Pushkin asked Aivazovsky if he, a southern man, was not freezing in St. Petersburg? If only Pushkin knew how right he turned out to be. All the winters at the Academy of Arts, young Hovhannes was indeed catastrophically cold.
There are drafts in the halls and classrooms, teachers wrap their backs in down scarves. 16-year-old Hovhannes Aivazovsky, accepted into the class of Professor Maxim Vorobyov, has numb fingers from the cold. He is chilly, wraps himself in a paint-stained jacket that is not warm at all, and coughs all the time.
It is especially difficult at night. A moth-eaten blanket does not allow you to warm up. All members are chilled, tooth does not touch tooth, and for some reason the ears are especially cold. When the cold prevents you from sleeping, student Aivazovsky remembers Feodosia and the warm sea.
Headquarters physician Overlach writes reports to the President of the Academy Olenin about the unsatisfactory health of Hovhannes: “Academician Aivazovsky, was transferred several years before to St. Petersburg from the southern region of Russia and precisely from the Crimea, since his very stay here he has always felt unhealthy and has already been used many times I was in the academic infirmary, suffering, both before and now, chest pain, dry cough, shortness of breath when climbing stairs and a strong heartbeat.”
Is this why “Crossing the Neva,” a rare St. Petersburg landscape for Aivazovsky’s work, looks like it makes your teeth ache from the imaginary cold? It was written in 1877, the Academy is long gone, but the feeling of the piercing cold of Northern Palmyra remains. Giant ice floes rose on the Neva. The Admiralty Needle appears through the cold, hazy colors of the purple sky. It's cold for the tiny people in the cart. It's chilly, alarming - but also fun. And it seems that there is so much new, unknown, interesting - there, ahead, behind the veil of frosty air.
Betrayal of Judas. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1834
The State Russian Museum in St. Petersburg carefully preserves Aivazovsky’s sketch “The Betrayal of Judas.” It is made on gray paper with white and Italian pencil. In 1834, Aivazovsky prepared a painting for biblical theme on the instructions of the Academy. Hovhannes was quite secretive by nature, loved to work alone and did not understand at all how his idol Karl Bryullov was able to write in front of any crowd of people.
Aivazovsky, on the contrary, preferred solitude for his work, so when he presented “The Betrayal of Judas” to his comrades at the academy, it turned out to be for them a complete surprise. Many simply could not believe that a 17-year-old provincial, only in his second year of study, was capable of such a thing.
And then his ill-wishers came up with an explanation. After all, Aivazovsky always disappears from the collector and philanthropist Alexei Romanovich Tomilov? And in his collection there are Bryullovs, Poussins, Rembrandts, and who knows who else. Surely the cunning Hovhannes simply copied a painting there by some little-known European master in Russia and passed it off as his own.
Fortunately for Aivazovsky, the President of the Academy of Arts, Alexei Nikolaevich Olenin, had a different opinion about “The Betrayal of Judas.” Olenin was so impressed by Hovhannes’ skill that he honored him with high favor - he invited him to stay with him at the Priyutino estate, where Pushkin and Krylov, Borovikovsky and Venetsianov, Kiprensky and the Bryullov brothers visited. An unheard of honor for a novice academician.
Eastern stage. Coffee shop near the Ortakoy Mosque in Constantinople. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1846
By 1845, 27-year-old Aivazovsky, whose seascapes were already resounding throughout Europe from Amsterdam to Rome, was being paid tribute in Russia. He receives “Anna on the Neck” (Order of St. Anne, 3rd degree), the title of academician, 1,500 acres of land in Crimea for 99 years of use, and most importantly, an official naval uniform. The Naval Ministry, for services to the Fatherland, appoints Aivazovsky as the first painter of the Main Naval Staff. Now Aivazovsky is required to be allowed into all Russian ports and onto all ships, wherever he wishes to go. And in the spring of 1845, at the insistence of Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolaevich, the artist was included in Admiral Litke’s naval expedition to Turkey and Asia Minor.
By that time, Aivazovsky had already traveled all over Europe (his foreign passport had more than 135 visas, and customs officers were tired of adding new pages to it), but had not yet been to the lands of the Ottomans. For the first time he sees Chios and Patmos, Samos and Rhodes, Sinop and Smyrna, Anatolia and the Levant. And most of all he was impressed by Constantinople: “My voyage,” wrote Aivazovsky, “with his Imperial Highness Konstantin Nikolayevich was extremely pleasant and interesting, everywhere I managed to sketch sketches for paintings, especially in Constantinople, from which I am in admiration. There is probably nothing in the world more majestic than this city; both Naples and Venice are forgotten there.”
“Coffee shop at the Ortakoy Mosque” is one of the views of Constantinople painted by Aivazovsky after this first trip. In general, Aivazovsky’s relations with Turkey are a long and difficult story. He will visit Turkey more than once. The artist was highly valued by the Turkish rulers: in 1856, Sultan Abdul-Mecid I awarded him the Order of “Nitshan Ali”, 4th degree, in 1881, Sultan Abdul-Hamid II - with a diamond medal. But between these awards there was also the Russian-Turkish War of 1877, during which Aivazovsky’s house in Feodosia was partially destroyed by a shell. However, it is significant that the peace treaty between Turkey and Russia was signed in a hall decorated with paintings by Aivazovsky. When visiting Turkey, Aivazovsky communicated especially warmly with the Armenians living in Turkey, who respectfully called him Aivaz Effendi. And when in the 1890s the Turkish Sultan committed a monstrous massacre in which thousands of Armenians died, Aivazovsky defiantly threw Ottoman awards into the sea, saying that he advised the Sultan to do the same with his paintings.
“Coffee shop near the Ortakoy Mosque” by Aivazovsky is an ideal image of Turkey. Ideal - because it is peaceful. Sitting relaxing on embroidered pillows and immersed in contemplation, Turks drink coffee, inhale hookah smoke, and listen to unobtrusive melodies. Molten air flows. Time flows between your fingers like sand. No one is in a hurry - there is no need to rush: everything necessary for the fullness of being is already concentrated in the present moment.
Windmills in the Ukrainian steppe at sunset. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1862
It cannot be said that Aivazovsky in the landscape “Windmills in the Ukrainian steppe...” is unrecognizable. A wheat field in the sunset rays is almost like the rippling surface of the sea, and the mills are the same frigates: in some the wind inflates the sails, in others it rotates the blades. Where and, most importantly, when could Aivazovsky take his mind off the sea and become interested in the Ukrainian steppe?
Returning from the wedding. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1891
Chumaks on vacation. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1885
Perhaps when a short time moved your family from Feodosia to Kharkov? And he didn’t transport it idly, but hastily evacuate it. In 1853, Turkey declared war on Russia, in March 1854 England and France joined it - the Crimean War. In September the enemy was already in Yalta. Aivazovsky urgently needed to save his relatives - his wife, four daughters, and old mother. “With spiritual sorrow,” the artist reported to one of the correspondents, “we had to leave our dear Crimea, leaving behind all our wealth, acquired by our labors over the course of fifteen years. In addition to my family, my 70-year-old mother, I had to take all my relatives with me, and we stopped in Kharkov, as the closest city to the south and inexpensive for a modest life.”
The biographer writes that in the new place, Aivazovsky’s wife Yulia Grevs, who had previously actively helped her husband in Crimea in his archaeological excavations and ethnographic research, “tried to captivate Aivazovsky with archeology or scenes of Little Russian life.” After all, Julia really wanted her husband and father to stay with the family longer. It didn’t work out: Aivazovsky rushed to besieged Sevastopol. For several days under bombardment, he painted naval battles from life, and only a special order from Vice Admiral Kornilov forced the fearless artist to leave the theater of military operations. Nevertheless, Aivazovsky’s legacy includes quite a lot of ethnographic-genre scenes and Ukrainian landscapes: “Chumaks on Vacation,” “Wedding in Ukraine,” “Winter Scene in Little Russia” and others.
Portrait of Senator Alexander Ivanovich Kaznacheev, leader of the nobility of the Tauride province. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1848
Aivazovsky left relatively few portraits. But he wrote to this gentleman more than once. However, this is not surprising: the artist considered Alexander Ivanovich Kaznacheev his “second father.” When Aivazovsky was still small, Kaznacheev served as the mayor of Feodosia. At the end of the 1820s, he increasingly began to receive complaints: someone was playing pranks in the city - painting fences and whitewashed walls of houses. The mayor went to inspect the art. On the walls were figures of soldiers, sailors and silhouettes of ships, induced by samovar coal - I must say, very, very believable. After some time, city architect Koch informed Treasurer that he had identified the author of this “graffiti.” It was 11-year-old Hovhannes, the son of the market elder Gevork Gaivazovsky.
“You draw beautifully,” Kaznacheev agreed when he met the “criminal,” “but why on other people’s fences?!” However, he immediately understood: the Aivazovskys are so poor that they cannot buy drawing supplies for their son. And Kaznacheev did it himself: instead of punishment, he gave Hovhannes a stack of good paper and a box of paints.
Hovhannes began to visit the mayor’s house and became friends with his son Sasha. And when in 1830 Kaznacheev became the governor of Tavria, he took Aivazovsky, who had become a member of the family, to Simferopol so that the boy could study at the gymnasium there, and three years later he made every effort to ensure that Hovhannes was enrolled in Imperial Academy arts
When the grown and famous Aivazovsky returns to live in Crimea forever, he will maintain friendly relations with Alexander Ivanovich. And even in a sense, he will imitate his “said father”, intensively caring for the poor and disadvantaged and founding the “General Workshop” - an art school for local talented youth. And Aivazovsky, using his own design and at his own expense, will erect a fountain in honor of Kaznacheev in Feodosia.
Caravan in the oasis. Egypt. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1871
On November 17, 1869, the Suez Canal was opened for navigation. Laid through the Egyptian deserts, it connected the Mediterranean and Red Seas and became a conditional border between Africa and Eurasia. The inquisitive and still greedy for impressions 52-year-old Aivazovsky could not miss such an event. He came to Egypt as part of the Russian delegation and became the first marine painter in the world to paint the Suez Canal.
"Those pictures in which main strength- the light of the sun... must be considered the best,” Aivazovsky was always convinced. And there was just an abundance of sun in Egypt - just work. Palm trees, sand, pyramids, camels, distant desert horizons and “Caravan in an oasis” - all this remains in Aivazovsky’s paintings.
The artist also left interesting memories of the first meeting of Russian song and the Egyptian desert: “When the Russian steamship was entering the Suez Canal, the French steamer ahead of it ran aground, and the swimmers were forced to wait until it was removed. This stop lasted about five hours.
She was beautiful Moonlight night, which gave some kind of majestic beauty to the deserted shores ancient country pharaohs, separated by a canal from the Asian shore.
To shorten the time, the passengers of the Russian steamship staged an impromptu vocal concert: Ms. Kireeva, possessing in a wonderful voice, took on the duties of lead singer, a harmonious choir picked up...
And so on the shores of Egypt a song sounded about “Mother Volga”, about the “dark forest”, about the “open field” and rushed along the waves, silvered by the moon, shining brightly at the border of two parts of the world...”
Catholicos Khrimyan in the vicinity of Etchmiadzin. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1895
Portrait of the artist's brother Gabriel Ayvazyan. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1883
Baptism of the Armenian people. Grigor the Enlightener (IV century) Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1892
Perhaps it will be new to someone to learn that Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky was a true zealot of the Armenian Apostolic Church, one of the oldest, by the way, Christian churches. There was an Armenian Christian community in Feodosia, and the Synod was located in the “heart of Armenia” - the city of Etchmiadzin.
Aivazovsky's elder brother Sargis (Gabriel) became a monk, then an archbishop and an outstanding Armenian educator. For the artist himself, his religious affiliation was by no means an empty formality. About the most important events of his life, for example, about a wedding, he informed the Etchmiadzin Synod: “On August 15, 1848, I married Julia, the daughter of Jacob Greves, an Englishman-Lutheran, but he was married in the Armenian church and on the condition that my children from this marriage would also be baptized in Armenian holy font."
When family life goes wrong, Aivazovsky will have to seek permission to dissolve the marriage there.
In 1895, a distinguished guest came to Feodosia to visit Aivazovsky - Catholicos Khrimyan, head Armenian Church. Aivazovsky took him to Old Crimea, where he erected a new one on the site of destroyed churches and even painted an altar image for it. At a gala dinner for 300 people in Feodosia, the Catholicos promised the artist: “I, Khrimyan Hayrik, in one hand - a cross, in the other - the Bible, I will pray for you and for my poor Armenian people" In the same year, the inspired Aivazovsky will paint the painting “Catholicos Khrimyan in the vicinity of Etchmiadzin.”
In five years, 82-year-old Aivazovsky will be dead. His grave in the courtyard of the ancient temple is decorated with an inscription in Armenian: “Born mortal, he left behind an immortal memory.”
Anna Nikitichna Burnazyan-Sarkizova, second wife of I.K. Aivazovsky. Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, 1882
It would be unfair to the reader to end our story about Aivazovsky’s paintings, where the sea is absent, with the fact of the artist’s death. Moreover, having touched on many important biographical milestones, we still didn’t talk about love.
When Aivazovsky was no less than 65 years old, he fell in love. Moreover, he fell in love like a boy - at first sight and in circumstances that were least conducive to romance. He was riding in a carriage along the streets of Feodosia and crossed paths with a funeral procession, which included a young woman dressed in black. a beautiful woman. The artist believed that in his native Feodosia he knew everyone by name, but it was as if he had seen her for the first time and did not even know who she was to the deceased - daughter, sister, wife. I made inquiries: it turned out that she was a widow. 25 years. Name is Anna Sarkizova, nee Burnazyan.
The late husband left Anna an estate with a marvelous garden and great wealth for the Crimea - a source of fresh water. She is a completely wealthy, self-sufficient woman, and also 40 years younger than Aivazovsky. But when the artist, trembling and not believing in possible happiness, proposed to her, Sarkizova accepted him.
A year later, Aivazovsky confessed to a friend in a letter: “Last summer I married a lady, an Armenian widow. I had not met her before, but I had heard a lot about her good name. Now I can live calmly and happily. I haven’t lived with my first wife for 20 years and haven’t seen her for 14 years. Five years ago, the Etchmiadzin Synod and the Catholicos allowed me to divorce... Only now I was very afraid to connect my life with a woman of another nation, so as not to shed tears. This happened by God’s grace, and I sincerely thank you for your congratulations.”
They will live 17 years in love and harmony. As in his youth, Aivazovsky will write a lot and incredibly productively. And he will also have time to show his beloved the ocean: in the 10th year of marriage they will sail to America via Paris, and, according to legend, this a beautiful couple will often be the only people on the ship not susceptible to seasickness. While most of the passengers, hiding in their cabins, waited out the rolling and storm, Aivazovsky and Anna serenely admired the expanses of the sea.
After Aivazovsky’s death, Anna would become a voluntary recluse for more than 40 years (and she would live until she was 88): no guests, no interviews, much less attempts to arrange her personal life. There is something strong-willed and at the same time mysterious in the look of a woman whose face is half hidden by a gas veil, so similar to the translucent surface of water with seascapes her great husband, Ivan Aivazovsky.