Biography of Andronikova Manana

He was an amazingly emotional storyteller. Photo by Grigory Citrinyk - Ekaterina Iraklievna, let's start with your first memories of the father. He began the day early, and ended late. He was always neat and tightened, it was a property of his character. Sincere friendliness, benevolence and warmth came from my father, and I always wanted to be somewhere near him, to listen to his stories.

It was very comfortable next to him. He was engaged in creative work, so he worked a lot at home. One of the most pleasant sensations is to read or draw, sitting somewhere in the corner when he printed on a typewriter. He never engaged in moralizing, and the very concept of "educate" somehow does not really fit with how he talked with me and my older sister Manana. We had a fairly big difference in age, but he probably was interested in us, and we felt it.

And we were interested - therefore, the problems were shot by themselves. His influence was as if inconspicuous, but in fact - huge: they listened to music in the house, because he always listened to it, and then we could not imagine our life without music. Our literary taste was formed depending on what our father read to us. One of the most striking memories when in the evenings on the country veranda - I was then ten years old - he read Gogol to me.

It was a shock - so juicy, so brightly he felt the figurative world of Gogol, his amazing language. Gogol characters simply stood before my eyes, goosebumps ran across my body with delight, then from horror when my father read the story "Wii". I remember these sensations very well and really value them. Probably, his feature was that he was as free on the stage as in life, and remained himself.

In any of his stories, it was difficult to see the line behind which he himself ended and his reincarnation began in the one he was talking about. In this he was organized, it was a form of its existence. He brilliantly knew literature, remembered by heart an incredible number of poems, but did not like to hide for quotes. Therefore, his stories bear a unique personal imprint.

The same can be said about his communication with Yuri Nikolayevich Tynyanov. And Viktor Borisovich Shklovsky! Telephone conversations with him were unusually interesting: even when you heard only what happened on this side of the telephone tube, where the father was, you could guess what a capacious and paradoxical dialogue they lead. Then dad told how Viktor Borisovich told him that he was opening the phone book, and there was almost no one left of the living.

Shklovsky often visited us, we are with them. Viktor Borisovich was a very peculiar person, endowed with a unique sense of humor. I remember that somehow they went to Leningrad together, upon returning, my father told how, having settled down in the compartment, they went to bed; Having woken up in the morning, Shklovsky exclaimed: “My God, I forgot to accept the sleeping pills yesterday!

My wife will not forgive me! After all, many were characters in his public speeches. In any case, his stories did not affect the relationship with Shklovsky and many others. After Samuel Yakovlevich heard him, he said:“ Alexei Tolstoy is very good ”. Nevertheless, they were friends with Marshak throughout their lives. Maybe someone was offended, but I do not know. He said that he once dreamed of becoming a conductor.

When he lived in Leningrad, a significant part of his life took place in the hall of the Leningrad Philharmonic. The music was his passion. Since the end of the 10ths, we lived on Myasnitskaya, in our house there was a shopping store: my father disappeared there. In his collection there were five or six different performances of the same work. Father sang very well and was surprisingly able to whistle: he could whistle even the most difficult work.

Music in our house has always been. Was it his attitude? We often had guests. Probably someone had an idea of ​​our well-being. But his father constantly did not serve anywhere, he earned articles, performances, books did not appear so often. When he received bonuses, they disappeared very quickly. Life was not as simple as it might seem from the outside. A three -hour concert in the Tchaikovsky Hall in those days cost 69 rubles.

He treated the articles very seriously and meticulously, publications simply did not make a nanny in our house for more than thirty years, who constantly repeated that we were tired of everything and that she was leaving, but at the same time adored everyone, and especially Batya - so she called her father - and she was almost the main member of the family. But unlike dad, she had a salary that her parents regularly paid her.

Somehow guests suddenly came to us, and there was not even tea in the house, and my mother asked for a while from the nanny for a while. And this was not the only case. But, when some earnings appeared, dad suited himself a small bastard, due to which he replenished his collection of records.He was offered to enter the Secretariat of the Writers' Union, but he tried to be from this as far as possible, plunging completely into Lermontal studies.

But, when Nikolai Alekseevich Zabolotsky returned from exile at that time lived in the same room on Arbat, he stayed with them for more than a month, waiting for permission to live in Moscow. It was not so simple in those years, but Zabolotsky’s father honored very highly and always remembered him with admiration. And then what to mean by service? He had to write articles, sign up on the radio, later act on television, speak with concerts, and he could not sit in the institution on a salary, then he could not do everything that he was doing.

Was it painful for you? Mom took me there, no preliminary agreements that someone would look from ballet teachers, was not there. Since childhood, I loved to dance, and so that in the future I did not have disappointment in unrealized opportunities, my mother led me to a choreographic school: if they refuse me, professionals will do it. And they accepted me. On the first day, one girl told me that I was here in the form.

I asked what it was. She explained, she explained. It just shocked me. After all, I had very little experience with my peers, I almost did not go to kindergarten, so I was wild. When the teachers checked my data on the first round, I bit. But I really wanted to prove that I could something myself. It was not easy to study there, the matter is not only in physical exertion, but the fact that in specialized schools psychological problems competition, careerism, which overtake people in much more adulthood, are falling into children's consciousness very early.

In addition, in general education there is an inevitable bias, since the specialty is in the first place. When, having worked for five years in the Bolshoi Theater, I decided to leave from there what my dad strongly supported me, for me, gaps in secondary education became obvious.

If I lived a normal life, I, of course, could have learned much more from dad. And so I needed to fit into reality. I began to study at the Faculty of Journalism. It was very difficult. For a long time I had to get used to even a change in the regime: instead of getting to the machine, I had to sit and carefully listen to the lecture not very understandable to me at that time.

When I graduated from the university, dad was already seriously ill. I sought to help him, printed his texts on a typewriter, but he, unfortunately, was too short. Nevertheless, I learned a lot from him. But, of course, he did not do much of what he could and should have done. Since the beginning of the 10ths, he has practically lost the opportunity to work. The last ten years of his life have passed outside of work, and he lived with it, it was the meaning of his life.

It was very difficult, because his consciousness was absolutely clear to the very end. He sought to create the feeling that everything was in the house, as before. Although, unfortunately, this was not so. But when by night everyone diverged into their rooms, one could hear him wandering along the corridor. One can only guess what he experienced at that moment. You have no resentment that oblivion also affected the persons of your father?

What to do - this is how our life is arranged. They quickly forget about a person, although yesterday, it seemed that he was indispensable. People are still directed forward, it seems to them that the main thing is there. What my father did seems to me absolutely unique. Let's say the genre of the story that he created on our television was not before him. In my opinion, the awareness of this is slowly coming.

I believe that talented phenomena do not disappear, they can temporarily go into the shadow. But life will put everything in its place.