A million scarlet roses is a true story that became a song. Million Scarlet roses. The story of the song Not Lost - Thank You

Nikolai Aslanovich Pirosmanishvili (Pirosmanashvili), or Niko Pirosmani, was born in Kakheti in the city of Mirzaani. When asked about his age, Niko answered with a timid smile: “How should I know?” Time passed in its own way for him and did not correlate at all with the boring numbers on the calendar.

Nikolai's father was a gardener, the family lived poorly, Niko tended sheep, helped his parents, he had a brother and two sisters. Village life often appears in his paintings.

Little Niko was only 8 years old when he was orphaned. His parents, older brother and sister died one after another. He and sister Peputsa were left alone in the whole wide world. The girl was taken to the village by distant relatives, and Nikolai ended up in a rich and friendly family of landowners, the Kalantarovs. For many years he lived in the strange position of half-service, half-relative. The Kalantarovs fell in love with the “unrequited” Niko, they proudly showed his drawings to the guests, taught the boy Georgian and Russian literacy and honestly tried to attach him to some craft, but the “unrequited” Niko did not want to grow up...

In the early 1890s, Niko realized that it was time for him to leave his hospitable home and become an adult. He managed to get a real position on the railroad. He became a brakeman.Only the service was not a joy for him. Standing on the step, arguing with stowaways, being distracted from contemplation and pressing the brake, not sleeping and listening carefully to signals is not the best thing for an artist. But no one knew that Niko was an artist. Taking advantage of every opportunity, Niko does not go to work. At this time, Pirosmani also discovers the dangerous charm of oblivion that wine gives... After three years of impeccable service, Piromanishvili quits the railway.

And Niko makes another attempt to become a good citizen. He opens a dairy shop. There is a cute cow on the sign, the milk is always fresh, the sour cream is undiluted - things are going quite well. Pirosmanishvili is building a house for his sister in his native Mirzaani and even covering it with an iron roof. He could hardly have imagined that his museum would one day be in this house.Trading is a completely unsuitable occupation for an artist... Dimitra, Pirosmanishvili’s partner, was mainly involved in the affairs of the shop.

“Niko was feasting with friends and did not go to the actress’s hotel, although she invited him,” said the drunkards. “Margarita spent the night with poor Nikolai, and then she was afraid of too strong a feeling and left!” - the poets asserted. “He loved one actress, but they lived separately,” the realists shrugged. “Pirosmani never saw Margarita, but drew the portrait from a poster,” skeptics smash the legend to dust. With the light hand of Alla Pugacheva, the entire Soviet Union sang a song about “a million scarlet roses” into which the artist turned his life for the sake of the woman he loved.

The romantic story is:

This summer morning was no different at first. The sun rose from Kakheti just as inexorably, setting everything on fire, and the donkeys tied to telegraph poles cried in the same way. The morning was still dozing in one of the alleys in Sololaki, the shadow lay on the wooden low houses gray with age. In one of these houses, small windows were open on the second floor, and Margarita was sleeping behind them, covering her eyes with reddish eyelashes.In general, the morning would really be the most ordinary, if you did not know that it was the morning of Niko Pirosmanishvili’s birthday and if it were not for that very morning that carts with a rare and light load had not appeared in a narrow alley in Sololaki.The carts were loaded to the brim with cut flowers sprinkled with water. This made it seem as if the flowers were covered with hundreds of tiny rainbows. The carts stopped near Margarita's house. The growers, talking in low voices, began to remove armfuls of flowers and dump them on the sidewalk and pavement at the threshold.It seemed that the carts brought flowers here not only from all over Tiflis, but also from all over Georgia. The laughter of the children and the cries of the housewives woke Margarita. She sat up in bed and sighed. Whole lakes of smells - refreshing, affectionate, bright and tender, joyful and sad - filled the air.Excited Margarita, still not understanding anything, quickly got dressed. She put on her best, richest dress and heavy bracelets, tidied up her bronze hair and, while dressing, smiled, she didn’t know why. She guessed that this holiday was arranged for her. But by whom? And on what occasion?

At this time, the only person, thin and pale, decided to cross the border of the flowers and slowly walked through the flowers to Margarita’s house. The crowd recognized him and fell silent. It was a poor artist Niko Pirosmanishvili. Where did he get so much money to buy these snowdrifts of flowers? So much money!He walked towards Margarita's house, touching the walls with his hand. Everyone saw how Margarita ran out of the house to meet him - no one had ever seen her in such a blaze of beauty, hugged Pirosmani by her thin, sore shoulders and pressed herself against his old checkman and for the first time kissed Niko firmly on the lips. Kissed in the face of the sun, the sky and ordinary people.

Some people turned away to hide their tears. People thought that great love would always find its way to a loved one, even if it was a cold heart.Niko's love did not conquer Margarita. That's what everyone thought, at least. But it was still impossible to understand whether this was really so? Nico couldn't say it himself. Soon Margarita found herself a rich lover and ran away with him from Tiflis.

The portrait of actress Margarita is a witness to beautiful love. A white face, a white dress, touchingly outstretched arms, a bouquet of white flowers - and white words placed at the actress’s feet... “I forgive white people,” said Pirosmani.

More often they paid him with wine and bread. “Life is short, like a donkey’s tail,” the artist liked to repeat, and he worked, worked, worked... He painted about 2,000 paintings, of which no more than 300 survived. Some were thrown away by the ungrateful owners, some burned in the fire of the revolution, some... then the paintings were simply painted over.

Pirosmani took on any job. “If we don’t work on the lower, how will we be able to do the higher? - he spoke with dignity about his craft, and with equal inspiration he painted signs and portraits, posters and still lifes, patiently fulfilling the wishes of his customers. “They tell me - draw a hare. I wonder why there’s a hare here, but I draw it out of respect.”

Pirosmani never spared money on paints - he bought only the best, English ones, although he used no more than four colors in his paintings. Pirosmani painted on canvas, cardboard, and tin, but he preferred black oilcloth over everything. He painted on it not out of poverty, as is commonly believed, but because the artist really liked this material for its texture and the unexpected possibilities that black color opened up for him. He covered the “black background of black life” with his brush - and men, women, children and animals stood up as if alive. The giraffe looks at us piercingly.

A majestic lion, redrawn from a matchbox, with a fiery gaze.

Roe deer and deer look tenderly and defenselessly over the spectators.

In Tiflis there was a society of Georgian artists, there were art connoisseurs, but for them Pirosmani did not exist. He lived in a parallel world of dukhans, drinking establishments and pleasure gardens, and perhaps the world would not have known anything about him if not for a happy accident.

This happened in 1912. Pirosmani was already 50 years old. The French artist Michel de Lantu and the Zdanevich brothers - the poet Kirill and the artist Ilya - came to Tiflis in search of new impressions. They were young and waiting for a miracle. Tiflis captivated and stunned the young people. One day they saw a sign for the Varyag tavern: a proud cruiser was cutting through the sea waves. The friends went inside and froze, stunned.Shocked, the students began to look for the author of the masterpieces.For several days the Zdanevichs and de Lantu followed Pirosmani's trail. “He was there, but he was gone, but who knows where,” they were told. And finally - the long-awaited meeting. Pirosmani stood on the street carefully writing out the sign “Dairy”. He bowed to the strangers with restraint and continued his work. Only after finishing the order, Niko accepted the invitation of the capital's guests to dine at the nearest tavern.

The Zdanevichs took 13 paintings by Pirosmani to St. Petersburg, organized an exhibition, and they gradually began to talk about him in Moscow, St. Petersburg, and even Paris. Recognition also came “in his own country”: Niko was invited to a meeting of a society of artists, given some money and taken to take photographs. The artist was very proud of his fame, carried a newspaper sheet with him everywhere and showed it to friends and acquaintances with simple-minded joy.

But fame turned its dark side to Niko... An evil caricature of Pirosmani appeared in the same newspaper. He was depicted in a shirt, with bare legs, he was offered to study and in 20 years take part in an exhibition of aspiring artists.It is unlikely that the author of the caricature imagined what effect it would have on the poor artist. Niko was terribly offended, became even more withdrawn, shunned the company of people, saw mockery in every word and gesture - and drank more and more. “This world is not friendly with you, you are not needed in this world,” the artist composed bitter poems.

Millions, millions, millions of red roses.
From the window, from the window, from the window you see.
Who is in love, who is in love, who is in love and seriously,
He will turn his life into flowers for you.

You've definitely heard this song by Alla Pugacheva more than once or twice. Did you know that the same artist who gave his beloved a million red roses actually existed? This beautiful legend unites two Georgian cities - Tbilisi and Sighnaghi, in which the action of these lines took place.

Artist Niko Pirosmani was born in the small Georgian village of Mirzaani, in the province of Kakheti. These places are known for their famous Alazani Valley wine. Just above this valley rises the town of Sighnaghi, next to which Pirosmani spent his childhood.

Niko Pirosmani's parents died early: the boy was only 8 years old. He was taken in by the Kalantarov family, where his father worked before his death. In adulthood, Pirosmani was very poor: he got a job as a conductor, but constantly skipped work - he was attracted only to painting and nothing more.

There are still many artists in Sighnaghi who sell their works right on the streets of the town. Maybe the air here is special?

One day, in one of the Tbilisi cafes, Pirosmani came across a performance by the French theater "Bel Vue", where he saw her...
Her name was Margarita de Sevres and Pirosmani instantly fell in love. A few days later, several carts, fully loaded with flowers, arrived at the hotel in the Sololaki area, where Margarita lived: there were roses, peonies, lilies, poppies...

Sololaki district, where Niko and Margarita met

In order to make such a gift, Pirosmani had to sell the only thing he had - his dairy shop. After that, he was never able to earn a normal living and spent the rest of his life begging, often spending the night in Tiflis cellars. Margarita de Sèvres soon went back to France and they did not meet until the end of their lives; all that Pirosmani got was the only kiss that Margarita awarded him near that very hotel...

In 1968, 50 years after Pirosmani's death, an exhibition of his works was held at the Louvre. On one of the days of the exhibition, an elderly woman came to the museum and stood for a long time near the painting “Actress Margarita.” As it turned out, the woman was the same Margarita de Sèvres, who at that time was already over 60 years old. The actress asked to photograph her against the background of the canvas, which the Louvre workers did. Margarita had letters with her that Niko Pirosmani often wrote to her after she went back to Paris. Representatives of the Georgian delegation were afraid to take them from Margarita, fearing problems when entering the USSR (it was always easy for us to pass as a spy), so they remained with Margarita. Alas, the end of this story is very sad: we do not know where and when Margarita died, as well as what happened to these letters.

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Niko Pirosmani is an honest and poor artist who painted piercing masterpieces on cheap oilcloth for food.

Pirosmani was a primitivist. One of those artists about whom people far from art and its understanding say, “I could have drawn just as well myself.” But only a blind person could fail to see all the poignancy of the Georgian artist’s painting.

Behind the seeming naivety of animals drawn on oilcloth and festive feasts, deep feelings are hidden, pain through joy and joy through pain. And all this becomes more than obvious if you know at least a little about the life of Niko Pirosmani.

website admires the talent and inner strength of a self-taught artist from a small Georgian village. And he hopes to convey some of his admiration to you.

Where and when Niko Pirosmanashvili was born was unknown for a long time. Many years after the artist’s death, researchers turned over the archives and half of Georgia and found out the year and place of birth - 151 years ago in the small Kakheti village of Mirzaani. In such a poor family that already as a child, the future property of Georgia was given into service to a rich Tiflis family, where he was a servant until he was 20 years old.

He began drawing at the same time he got a job as a conductor on the railway. His first work was a portrait of his boss and his wife. And it seems that it was not a success, because Niko immediately flew out of work.

Pirosmani was not the “textbook” poor Georgian of that time. He did not have much of the famous innate gaiety, he was not cunning, he could not adapt to conditions and make money. An honest, quiet, proud intellectual from a peasant family, who dreams only of drawing.

He eked out a meager income selling milk, but he loved his shop very much because he painted it with lush flowers. And he simply gave the paintings to his customers, and gave some to resellers in the vain hope of gaining some money. It was, to put it mildly, not exactly what the residents of Tiflis wanted to buy.

Due to hunger, Pirosmani fled from Tiflis back to his homeland. He also painted his house in Mirzaani, called a feast, and then wrote four paintings about this feast. Which, as a result, told him how to combine not the most hungry life in the world with painting.

Wedding in Georgia

Gorgeous

Sign for the beer hall "Zagatala"

Niko returned to the big city and began painting signs for dukhans in exchange for food, wine and a little money. Or paint thematic paintings. Neither the artist nor the perfumers had money for canvases and boards, and so he took what was in direct reach - oilcloths from the tables. The oilcloths were mostly black, which largely determined how his painting began to look. And despite the black color of the “canvas,” the colors of his paintings were always pure and strong.

Still lifes, cheerful feasts, scenes of peasant life, animals, forest - these are the themes that inspired Pirosmani. He could never be satisfied with just one thing. When he got tired of painting grapes and meat for the dukhans, he began painting people. And even come up with strange names for their “clients” - for example, “You don’t need to drink alone.”

Still life

Friends of Begos

Black Lion

Signboard for dukhan

Niko Pirosmani did not have his own family. No wife, no children. But there was love for an actress named Margarita. Love is all-consuming, painful and, unfortunately, unrequited. She did not pay attention to his advances; even her portrait, which the artist called “Actress Margarita,” did not help to win her beloved.

Actress Margarita

A famous song was written about his last attempt to win the heart of an unapproachable beauty in Soviet times. Everyone who was born in the USSR knows it - “A Million Scarlet Roses”.

These were not roses at all, of course, and no one knows exactly how many flowers there actually were, but Niko arrived at Margarita’s house early on the morning of his birthday, accompanied by carts loaded to the brim with a variety of flowers. He covered the entire street in front of the actress’s house so that the pavement was not visible.

Skinny and pale, he waited for her to come out. Margarita left the house, amazed, kissed Niko on the lips and left. There was no happy ending.

Holiday

Firewood seller

Nikolai Aslanovich Pirosmanishvili (Niko Pirosmani) was born in Kakheti in the city of Mirzaani, presumably in 1862. When asked about his age, Niko answered with a smile: “How should I know?” Time passed in its own way for him and did not correlate at all with the boring numbers on the calendar. Nikolai's father was a gardener, the family lived poorly, Niko tended sheep, helped his parents, he had a brother and two sisters. Village life often appeared in his paintings. Little Niko was only 8 years old when he was orphaned. His parents, older brother and sister died one after another. He and sister Peputsa were left alone in the whole wide world. The girl was taken to the village by distant relatives, and Nikolai ended up in a rich and friendly family of landowners, the Kalantarovs. For many years he lived in the strange position of half-service, half-relative. The Kalantarovs fell in love with the “unrequited” Niko, they proudly showed his drawings to the guests, taught the boy Georgian and Russian literacy and honestly tried to attach him to some craft, but Niko did not want to grow up... Still, in the early 1890s, Niko realized that It's time for him to leave the hospitable home and become an adult. He managed to get a real position on the railroad. He became a brakeman. Only the service was not a joy for him. After three years of service, Pirosmani quits and opens a dairy shop with a partner. There is a cute cow on the sign, the milk is always fresh, the sour cream is undiluted - things are going quite well. Pirosmanishvili is building a house for his sister in his native Mirzaani. He could hardly have imagined that his museum would one day be in this house. In March 1909, a poster appeared on the stands in the Ortachal Garden: “News! Belle Vue Theater. Only 7 tours of the beautiful Margarita de Sevres in Tiflis. A unique gift to sing chansons and dance the kek-walk at the same time!” The Frenchwoman struck Nicholas on the spot. “Not a woman, a pearl from a precious casket!” - he exclaimed. According to one version of the legend, the lover Pirosmani tried different ways to win the heart of the beauty (once he painted her portrait), but she was unapproachable and often did not even deign to glance at the artist. This attitude drove Niko into a frenzy. He sometimes fell to the ground in tears to touch the footprints of her feet with his lips. Such adoration on the verge of insanity was not to the actress’s liking and only further increased her contempt for the artist. In Tiflis they loved to tell the story of Niko’s unhappy love, and everyone told it in their own way. “Niko was feasting with friends and did not go to the actress’s hotel, although she invited him,” said the drunkards. “Margarita spent the night with poor Nikolai, and then she was afraid of too strong a feeling and left!” - the poets asserted. “He loved one actress, but they lived separately,” the realists shrugged. “Pirosmani never saw Margarita, but drew the portrait from a poster,” skeptics smash the legend to dust. The romantic story is as follows: ...This summer morning at first was no different from others. The morning was still dozing in one of the alleys, the shadow lay on the low wooden houses gray with time. In one of these houses, small windows were open on the second floor, and Margarita was sleeping behind them, covering her eyes with reddish eyelashes. It was the morning of Niko’s birthday and it was on this morning that carts with a rare and light load appeared in the alley. The carts were loaded to the brim with cut flowers sprinkled with water. This made it seem as if the flowers were covered with hundreds of tiny rainbows. The carts stopped near Margarita's house. The growers, talking in low voices, began to remove armfuls of flowers and dump them on the sidewalk and pavement at the threshold. It seemed that the carts brought flowers here not only from all over Tiflis, but also from all over Georgia. The laughter of the children and the cries of the housewives woke Margarita. She sat up in bed and sighed. Whole lakes of smells - refreshing, affectionate, bright and tender, joyful and sad - filled the air. Excited Margarita, still not understanding anything, quickly got dressed. She put on her best, richest dress and heavy bracelets, tidied up her bronze hair and, while dressing, smiled, she didn’t know why. She guessed that this holiday was arranged for her. But by whom? And on what occasion? At this time, the only person, thin and pale, decided to cross the border of the flowers and slowly walked through the flowers to Margarita’s house. The crowd recognized him and fell silent. It was a poor artist Niko Pirosmanishvili. Where did he get so much money to buy these snowdrifts of flowers? So much money! He walked towards Margarita's house, touching the walls with his hand. Everyone saw how Margarita ran out of the house to meet him - no one had ever seen her in such a blaze of beauty, hugged Pirosmani and kissed Niko hard on the lips for the first time. She kissed her in front of the sun, the sky and ordinary people - for the first and last time... Alas, Niko’s love did not conquer Margarita. That's what many people thought, at least. But it was still impossible to understand whether this was really so? Soon Margarita found herself a rich lover and left Tiflis with him. The portrait of actress Margarita is a witness to beautiful love. A white face, a white dress, touchingly outstretched arms, a bouquet of white flowers - and white words placed at the actress’s feet... “I forgive white people,” said Pirosmani.

What's happening to us
when do we dream?
Artist Pirosmani
comes out of the wall

From the primitive framework,
out of all the fuss
and sells paintings
per serving of food...
Bulat Okudzhava/Song about the artist Pirosmani

Nikolai's father was a gardener, the family lived poorly, Niko tended sheep, helped his parents, he had a brother and two sisters. Village life often appears in his paintings.

Continuation:

In the early 1890s, Niko realized that it was time for him to leave his hospitable home and become an adult. He managed to get a real position on the railroad. He became a brakeman. Only the service was not a joy for him. Standing on the step, arguing with stowaways, being distracted from contemplation and pressing the brake, not sleeping and listening carefully to signals is not the best thing for an artist. But no one knew that Niko was an artist. Taking advantage of every opportunity, Niko does not go to work. At this time, Pirosmani also discovers the dangerous charm of oblivion that wine gives... After three years of impeccable service, Piromanishvili quits the railway.

And Niko makes another attempt to become a good citizen. He opens a dairy shop. There is a cute cow on the sign, the milk is always fresh, the sour cream is undiluted - things are going quite well. Pirosmanishvili is building a house for his sister in his native Mirzaani and even covering it with an iron roof. He could hardly have imagined that his museum would one day be in this house. Trading is a completely unsuitable occupation for an artist... Dimitra, Pirosmanishvili’s partner, was mainly involved in the affairs of the shop.

In March 1909, a poster appeared on the stands in the Ortachal Garden: “News! Belle Vue Theater. Only 7 tours of the beautiful Margarita de Sevres in Tiflis. A unique gift to sing chansons and dance the kek-walk at the same time!” The Frenchwoman struck Nicholas on the spot. “Not a woman, a pearl from a precious casket!” - he exclaimed. In Tiflis they loved to tell the story of Niko’s unhappy love, and everyone told it in their own way.
“Niko was feasting with friends and did not go to the actress’s hotel, although she invited him,” said the drunkards. “Margarita spent the night with poor Nikolai, and then she was afraid of too strong a feeling and left!” - the poets asserted. “He loved one actress, but they lived separately,” the realists shrugged. “Pirosmani never saw Margarita, but drew the portrait from a poster,” skeptics smash the legend to dust. With the light hand of Alla Pugacheva, the entire Soviet Union sang a song about “a million scarlet roses” into which the artist turned his life for the sake of the woman he loved.

The romantic story is:
This summer morning was no different at first. The sun rose from Kakheti just as inexorably, setting everything on fire, and the donkeys tied to telegraph poles cried in the same way. The morning was still dozing in one of the alleys in Sololaki, the shadow lay on the wooden low houses gray with age. In one of these houses, small windows were open on the second floor, and Margarita was sleeping behind them, covering her eyes with reddish eyelashes. In general, the morning would really be the most ordinary, if you did not know that it was the morning of Niko Pirosmanishvili’s birthday and if it were not for that very morning that carts with a rare and light load had not appeared in a narrow alley in Sololaki. The carts were loaded to the brim with cut flowers sprinkled with water. This made it seem as if the flowers were covered with hundreds of tiny rainbows. The carts stopped near Margarita's house. The growers, talking in low voices, began to remove armfuls of flowers and dump them on the sidewalk and pavement at the threshold. It seemed that the carts brought flowers here not only from all over Tiflis, but also from all over Georgia. The laughter of the children and the cries of the housewives woke Margarita. She sat up in bed and sighed. Whole lakes of smells - refreshing, affectionate, bright and tender, joyful and sad - filled the air. Excited Margarita, still not understanding anything, quickly got dressed. She put on her best, richest dress and heavy bracelets, tidied up her bronze hair and, while dressing, smiled, she didn’t know why. She guessed that this holiday was arranged for her. But by whom? And on what occasion?
At this time, the only person, thin and pale, decided to cross the border of the flowers and slowly walked through the flowers to Margarita’s house. The crowd recognized him and fell silent. It was a poor artist Niko Pirosmanishvili. Where did he get so much money to buy these snowdrifts of flowers? So much money! He walked towards Margarita's house, touching the walls with his hand. Everyone saw how Margarita ran out of the house to meet him - no one had ever seen her in such a blaze of beauty, hugged Pirosmani by her thin, sore shoulders and pressed herself against his old checkman and for the first time kissed Niko firmly on the lips. Kissed in the face of the sun, the sky and ordinary people.
Some people turned away to hide their tears. People thought that great love would always find its way to a loved one, even if it was a cold heart. Niko's love did not conquer Margarita. That's what everyone thought, at least. But it was still impossible to understand whether this was really so? Nico couldn't say it himself. Soon Margarita found herself a rich lover and ran away with him from Tiflis.
The portrait of actress Margarita is a witness to beautiful love. A white face, a white dress, touchingly outstretched arms, a bouquet of white flowers - and white words placed at the actress’s feet... “I forgive white people,” said Pirosmani.

Nikolai finally broke with the shop and became a wandering painter. His last name was increasingly pronounced short - Pirosmani. Dimitra assigned his companion a pension - a ruble a day, but Niko did not always come for money. More than once he was offered shelter and a permanent job, but Niko always refused. Finally, Pirosmani came up with what he thought was a successful solution. He began to paint bright signs for the dukhans over several wine lunches and several dinners. He took part of his earnings in cash to buy paints and pay for lodging. He worked unusually quickly - it took Niko several hours to complete ordinary paintings and two or three days for large works. Now his paintings are worth millions, but during his lifetime the artist received ridiculously little for his work.
More often they paid him with wine and bread. “Life is short, like a donkey’s tail,” the artist liked to repeat, and he worked, worked, worked... He painted about 2,000 paintings, of which no more than 300 survived. Some were thrown away by the ungrateful owners, some burned in the fire of the revolution, some then the paintings were simply painted over.

Pirosmani took on any job. “If we don’t work on the lower, how will we be able to do the higher? - he spoke with dignity about his craft, and with equal inspiration he painted signs and portraits, posters and still lifes, patiently fulfilling the wishes of his customers. “They tell me – draw a hare. I wonder why there’s a hare here, but I draw it out of respect.”