The age of early adolescence is a transitional stage for a person from childhood to adulthood. It arises at the turn of the usual school life and new unexplored paths. Characteristic of this period are such feelings as responsibility to oneself and loved ones, fear of the possibility of choice and mistakes.
Self-determination aspect
One of the most important aspects self-awareness is self-determination. It is divided into personal and professional. The first poses the question to the high school student: “What should I be?” This aspect determines the character, abilities and personal qualities the student as an individual. The second poses the question to a person: “Who should I be?” The student tries to determine his own interests, tries to feel what kind of activity attracts him most.
The aspect of self-determination also includes having a life plan. A blurred sense of time, an inability to see oneself in the future, fear of change - all this indicates a low level of self-awareness. By the end of school, the student must clearly see his abilities, be able to mobilize internal resources and concentrate on one activity. This helps a person to enter adult life, start working or studying in your specialty. If the individual does not succeed in this, then he chooses negative patterns of behavior: alcoholism, drugs, immoral or idle lifestyle.
Personal aspect
The personal aspect of self-awareness includes three components. Firstly, this is self-respect. The degree to which a person accepts himself as an individual can be both high and low. In a successful scenario, the new society accepts a person the way he presents himself. Otherwise, both students and work colleagues can take advantage of a vulnerable person.
Secondly, self-reflection plays an important role in self-awareness. A person cannot be aware of the world around him without understanding his inner world. It is possible that during early adolescence, interest in oneself and one’s uniqueness will be increased.
Thirdly, self-regulation is of particular importance. A person entering society must understand and accept norms of behavior. Control over emotions and one’s own state in a critical situation indicates how conscious a person is.
Moral aspect
The moral aspect of self-awareness includes two categories. Moral stability is the ability to orient one’s behavior towards one’s own views and beliefs. The formation of a worldview is the emergence of a more or less clear picture of the world, the systematization of one’s own beliefs on certain issues.
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Love is a mysterious feeling: it can flare up on the very first date, or it can smolder for years and then flare up into a bright fire. But in every relationship there is that very moment when you realize that this is the person you are ready to live with for the rest of your life.
websiteoverheard the most sincere stories about how people realized that this relationship was the one.
- When I was 16, my dad left us, we moved to another city, and I transferred to another school. I was stressed from my parents' divorce - I stopped talking altogether. When I moved to new class, one boy liked me and wrote to him about my problem on a piece of paper. He didn’t despair, he enrolled us in a literary circle, and did everything to get me out of stress. And at 18 he proposed to me, and I said “yes” on my own. Married for 5 years, my son is 2 years old, we often sing with a guitar.
- The beloved young man confessed his love. And immediately everything changed: I want to work, I want to do things, I want to travel, I even want to clean and wash the dishes. And the main thing is to live. I really want to live. Bite a juicy soft peach so that the juice flows down your cheeks. It was as if it became clear why all this was for. As if something valuable and important had appeared here. So unusual.
- My boyfriend lives 2,000 km from me, 2 days away. A week ago I didn’t answer calls and texts (I was sleeping). The next day at night my husband called me at my apartment. I was afraid that something had happened to me.
- It was only recently that I finally realized how much I was loved.
My man hates sewing, but seeing how tired I was of working seven days a week, he hemmed my dress for a corporate party. So concentrated, sticking out his tongue from tension and muttering something under his breath, like a real seamstress. - The girl snores like a drunken sailor. I always can't sleep. But one day she went to see her mother for a week - I realized that now I miss her snoring... I don’t get enough sleep. I went to see her over the weekend and at least got some sleep.
- Girl, 21 years old. All conscious life terribly lazy. They always quarreled with my parents because of my laziness, I never cooked or cleaned, I always got out of bed amid wild screams and started doing household chores in tears. A year ago I fell in love. And - voila - I get up easily in the morning, flutter around the apartment, with good mood and with songs I cook delicious hot dinners, the house is always clean, things are washed and ironed. My parents are not overjoyed, they are afraid of jinxing me and quietly pray that they will take me in marriage.
- I broke up with my first guy because I didn’t prepare a 3-course dinner after my shift at work. I left the second one a week before the wedding because I didn’t help his mother with strawberries. He didn’t care that I had a terrible allergy to this berry. Recently we started living together with a friend from our youth, it’s about to get married. Sometimes I arrive after 10 pm from work. The house is clean, dinner is heated, he makes tea. And no matter how lazy I am, I want to cook 3 dishes for him and go to my parents for potatoes.
- My normal temperature very tall, palms sweat a lot. I was always very embarrassed about this, I wanted to fail out of shame when they said: “Your hands are too sweaty.” But my boyfriend, at our first meeting, said that, as mentioned in Romeo and Juliet, hot and wet hands are a sign of sensuality and he really likes it.
- My husband sometimes talks in his sleep. One late evening I was reading a book in bed, my husband had already fallen asleep, and then I heard him having a funny dialogue with someone: “I love her very much. Everyone would like a wife like mine. Just don’t even look in her direction!” However, I got married successfully.
- I’ve been afraid of spiders since the very moment when my stepfather locked me in the basement, and this nasty thing was crawling along the walls and all over me. My friends and girlfriend joked about this topic, and it really infuriated me, so I wanted to get treatment, but it didn’t work out. It drove me crazy until I started dating someone else and admitted to having a phobia. As a result, now she catches the spiders that I sometimes see on the walls and calms me down, while I think about where to hide the ring so that she doesn’t find it ahead of time.
- I am a tetradophile: I adore paper stationery in all its forms, but I have the greatest passion for squared notebooks with a clip and always with 48 sheets. There must be a perfect design outside and inside. Every time I choose a new favorite, I count the sheets in it, because I am afraid that it is not “virgin”. My girlfriend caught me doing this and had to explain everything to her, to which she calmly replied that she adores pencils. As a result, we were stuck in the bookstore for an hour and a half. Love her. And notebooks.
- I'm on a diet. There was nothing left at home except rice. At midnight I called my beloved (we live separately for now) and said that I was dying of hunger and couldn’t sleep. He coldly replied that he had to get up early for work tomorrow and that he couldn’t talk. And 30 minutes later he brought me a piece of pie, sandwiches and scolded me for dieting.
- I'm obsessed with spelling and grammar. Once an argument ensued with some guy who wrote as if he had never seen a Russian language textbook in his life. It turned out that he was just as obsessed as I was, but only with mathematics. For a long time they insulted each other in every possible way and teased each other about this topic. As a result, we came to an agreement that we would pull each other up, I him in Russian and literature, he me in physics and mathematics. Well, that’s how it was, they pulled it up. We've been together for four years and recently proposed. Marriage is soon.
- I have jet black hair and very pale skin; if I paint my eyes brightly, I look like a real witch. I was on the subway, an old lady comes in, looks at me and starts crossing herself. I decided to be funny, started pretending that I was doing magic, and began making magical movements with my hands. The guy sitting next to me saw the chip and began to shake, roll his eyes, saying that he felt that something was possessing him, the grandmother was in shock, I could hardly hold back my laughter, the people in the carriage were choking with laughter. At my station, a guy ran out after me. We have been married for 5 years, at the wedding the first toast was to the superstitious granny in the subway!
Conscious
Conscious adj., used compare often
Morphology: conscious, conscious, consciously, conscious; more consciously;
adv.
consciously
1. Conscious they call what happens, takes place with the participation of consciousness. Conscious age. | He lived his entire adult life in this city.
2. Conscious They call a person whose behavior is based on understanding and strict compliance with rules and requirements.
A conscientious member of society. | A conscientious attitude towards work and one’s responsibilities. | Conscious discipline.
3. Conscious they call someone's actions if they are performed by someone with an obvious, understandable purpose and the person who performs them knows what he wants.
Conscious action, choice. | Conscious lies. | Conscious refusal of something. | Conscious participation in something. | The transaction must be concluded on the basis of the conscious expression of the will of the parties.
Explanatory dictionary of the Russian language by Dmitriev. D. V. Dmitriev. 2003.
Synonyms:
Antonyms:
See what “conscious” is in other dictionaries:
Intentional, deliberate, willful, premeditated; deliberate; meaningful; malicious, progressive, advanced, premeditated, deliberate, malicious. Ant. unintentional Dictionary of Russian synonyms. conscious 1. see reasonable 1. 2 ... Synonym dictionary
CONSCIOUS, conscious, conscious; conscious, conscious, conscious. 1. Possessing consciousness (see consciousness in 4 meanings). Man is a conscious being. 2. Aware of the surrounding reality and how it should... ... Ushakov's Explanatory Dictionary
CONSCIOUS, oh, oh; flax, flax. 1. Possessing consciousness (in 2 meanings). Man is a conscious being. 2. Correctly assessing, fully understanding the surroundings. Conscious attitude towards something. 3. Intentional, perfect after reflection, deliberate... ... Ozhegov's Explanatory Dictionary
conscious- oh, oh. approved Possessing consciousness, correctly understanding, assessing the environment. ◘ Only those who are brave, conscientious, and ready to sacrifice even their lives can be accepted [into the Komsomol] (N. Ostrovsky). MAS, vol. 4, 185. Showed up in the village... ... Explanatory dictionary of the language of the Council of Deputies
I m. One who is aware of the surrounding reality and how one should act, who is convinced of the correctness of his views and actions. II adj. 1. ratio with noun consciousness associated with it 2. Possessing consciousness [consciousness 2.]. 3.… … Modern Dictionary Russian language Efremova
Conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious, conscious,... ... Forms of words
Unconscious mechanical spontaneous... Dictionary of antonyms
conscious- conscious; briefly linen shape, linen... Russian spelling dictionary
conscious- cr.f. conscious/telen, conscious/telny, flax, flax; more consciously... orthographic dictionary Russian language
Books
- Conscious capitalism. Companies that Benefit Customers, Employees and Society, McKee John. About the Book Whole Foods Market founder John Mackey and professor Rajendra Sisodia take a stand on the side of capitalism and business and describe their inherent advantages. Using...
Leonid Vinogradov: Georgy Pavlovich, you were born in Kuban, but when you were three years old, your family moved to Moscow. Didn't your parents tell you why?
Georgy Ansimov : They told me, I know all the details. My father, a young energetic priest, graduated from the Kazan Academy soon after the revolution and was sent to the village of Ladozhskaya. My daughter was already growing up, twin sons were already born and both died of hunger, I was not yet born. We traveled from Astrakhan on foot - this is quite a long distance. 1921, the most devastation. Sometimes my mother even stood on the porch after the service, begging for alms, because the children - her daughter and niece - needed to be fed something.
But we reached Kuban, and it began a good life. They gave my father land, a cow, a horse, and said: look, start a farm, and at the same time you will serve. And they got down to business, mom also had to stock up on food, milk the cow, and work on the land. It was unusual - they were urban, but they managed. And then some people came and said that the temple should limit its activities, they were allowed to serve only on Sundays, then Sunday services were banned, and the father was deprived of allotments - the family suddenly became poor.
My father’s father-in-law, my grandfather, also a priest, Father Vyacheslav Sollertinsky, then served in Moscow. And he invited his father to join his choir as regent. My father was a good musician, he agreed, and in 1925 we moved to Moscow. He became regent at the Church of the Entry on Platochki - in Cherkizovo. Soon the temple was closed and demolished, a school was built in its place, but what’s interesting is that nothing remains of the temple, but there is a place where there used to be a throne, and in this place the ground never freezes. Frost, blizzard, and these four square meters they don’t freeze, and everyone knows that there used to be a temple and a throne here. Such a miracle!
The wanderings began. My father came to another church, there was a council that evaluated the priest, he passed the exam, preached a sermon - by the sermon they judged his command of the word, his command of the “hall” - and he was approved as rector, and the workers of the electric plant - the temple was on Elektrozavodskaya street, in Cherkizovo - they said that they need a club, let's demolish the temple. Demolished. He moved to the St. Nicholas Church on Bakuninskaya Street, and this temple was closed and destroyed. I moved to the Semenovskoye cemetery, and this temple was closed and destroyed. He moved to Izmailovo and was arrested for the fourth time. And they shot him, but we didn’t know that he had been shot, we looked for him in prisons, carried packages, received packages from us... Only 50 years later did we learn that on November 21, 1937, my father was shot in Butovo.
–You say that he was arrested for the fourth time. How did the previous arrests end?
– The first time he spent, in my opinion, a month and a half, and he was released home... For all of us, the first arrest was a shock. Scary! The second time they arrested him and kept him for a very short time, and the third time two young men came, one of them illiterate, looked at everything carefully, knocked on the floor, pushed aside the floorboards, climbed behind the icons, and, in the end, took his father away, and the next day he returned. It turns out that these were trainees who had to conduct a search in order to pass the exam. Father was a guinea pig for them, but we didn’t know that they were trainees, we took them seriously, we were worried. For them it’s a comedy, but for us it’s another shock.
My father’s ministry occurred during the years of the worst persecution. As soon as they didn't mock him! And they wrote on the cassock with chalk, and threw rotten fruit, and insulted, shouted: “The priest is going with the priest.” We lived in constant fear. I remember the first time I went to the bathhouse with my father. They immediately noticed him there - with a cross on his chest, with a beard, long hair, – and the bathhouse persecution began. No gang. Everyone has it, but we had to wait for someone to have it free, but others also kept watch just to snatch it from the priest’s hands. And they pulled it out. There were other provocations, all sorts of words and so on. True, I washed myself with pleasure, but I realized that going to the bathhouse was also a struggle.
– How did they treat you at school?
– At first they laughed at me, were rude (a good reason - the priest’s son), and it was quite difficult. And then everyone got tired of it - they laughed, that’s enough, and it became easier. Only individual cases were like the one I described in the book about my father. They gave us a sanitary inspection - they checked who had clean nails and who didn’t, who washed and who didn’t. They lined us up and told us all to undress to the waist. They saw a cross on me, and it began! They called the director, and he was stern, young, well-fed, successfully moving up the career ladder, and suddenly he was in such a mess - they were wearing a cross! He exposed me in front of everyone, pointed his finger at me, shamed me, everyone crowded around, touched the cross and even pulled and tried to tear it off. Hunted down. I left depressed class teacher she took pity on me and calmed me down. There were such cases.
– Were you forced to join the pioneers?
– They forced me, but I didn’t join. He was neither a pioneer, nor a Komsomol member, nor a party member.
– Wasn’t your grandfather on your mother’s side subject to repression?
“He was arrested twice and interrogated, but both times he was released. Maybe because he was already old. He was not exiled anywhere; he died of illness before the war. And my father was much younger, and he was offered to remove himself from the rank, to become an accountant or accountant. My father was well versed in accounting, but he answered resolutely: “No, I serve God.”
– Have you had any thoughts of following in his footsteps, despite everything?
- No. He himself did not define such a path for me, he said that I did not need to be a priest. My father assumed that he would end up the way he did, and he understood that if I chose his path, the same fate awaited me.
Throughout my youth and youth, it wasn’t that I was persecuted, but everyone pointed their finger at me and said: son of a priest. That's why they didn't take me anywhere. I wanted to go to medical school, but they told me: don’t go there. In 1936, an artillery school opened - I submitted an application. I was still in 9th grade. My application was not accepted.
My graduation was approaching, and I realized that I had no prospects - I would finish school, get a certificate and become a shoemaker, a cab driver or a salesman, because no institute would accept me. And they didn’t take it. Suddenly, when everyone had already entered, I heard that boys were being recruited into the theater school. This “boys” offended me - what boys, when I am already a young man - but I realized that they had a shortage of young men, and I went there. They accepted my documents and said that they would first check how I read, sing, and dance, and then there would be an interview.
I was most afraid of the interview - they would ask what family I was from, I would answer, and they would tell me: close the door on the other side. But there was no interview - I slipped there, to the Vakhtangov school, without revealing to anyone that I was the son of an enemy of the people. There were many artists at the audition, including Boris Vasilyevich Shchukin, who died that same year - we are the last ones he managed to see and accept. I was preparing to read a fable, a poem and prose, but I only read a fable - “Two Dogs” by Krylov - and when I was about to read a poem by Pushkin, someone from the commission told me: “Repeat.” And I repeated with pleasure - I liked the fable. After that I was accepted. It was 1939.
When the war started, the school was evacuated, but I missed the train, submitted an application to the military registration and enlistment office, they signed me up for the militia, and in the militia they told me to do what I was taught - to be an artist. He performed in military units that were traveling to and from the front. We dug trenches in the Mozhaisk direction, then at the school we noted that we had completed our work, and went to serve the soldiers. It was scary - we saw young green guys who had just been drafted, they did not know where they would be sent, and not everyone was given a weapon, but one rifle for three. There weren't enough weapons.
And the worst thing was to perform in front of the wounded who were being transported from the front. Nervous, angry, undertreated - some without an arm, some without a leg, and some without two legs - they believed that life was over. We tried to cheer them up - we danced, joked, and told some funny stories by heart. We managed to do something, but it’s still scary to remember it. Whole trains of wounded came to Moscow.
After the war, I was hired as an actor at the Satire Theater. I liked the way the main director Nikolai Mikhailovich Gorchakov worked, and I asked to be his assistant. I helped him with little things and continued to play on stage, and after some time Nikolai Mikhailovich advised me to enter GITIS, he said: “I am now leading the third year, if you enroll, I’ll take you to the third year, in two years you will be a director.” I went to apply, and they told me that this year they are not recruiting for the directing department, there is only admission for the musical theater department. I go to Gorchakov and tell him, and he: “So what? Do you know music? You know. Do you know the notes? You know. Can you sing? Can. Sing, they will take you, and then I will transfer you to mine.”
Leonid Vasilyevich Baratov, the chief director of the Bolshoi Theater, received me. He was known at the institute for the fact that he always took the exam himself - he asked a question, the student or applicant awkwardly answered, and he said: “My dear, my beloved, my friend!”, and began to tell how to answer this question. He asked me what the difference was between the two choirs in Eugene Onegin. I said that first they sing together, and then differently - that’s what I understood then. “My friend, how is this possible? - Baratov exclaimed. “They sing not in groups, but in voices, and they differ in voices.” He stood up and began to show how they sing. It showed perfectly - the whole commission and I sat with our mouths open.
But they accepted me, I ended up with Boris Aleksandrovich Pokrovsky. He was recruiting the course for the first time then, but during the exams he was away, and Baratov recruited us instead. Pokrovsky and other teachers worked very well with me, for some reason I immediately became the head of the course, and in the fourth year Pokrovsky told me: “A trainee group is opening at the Bolshoi Theater, if you want, apply.” He always told everyone this: if you want, serve, if you don’t want, don’t serve.
I realized that he was inviting me to submit an application, so I did. And the same Baratov, who accepted me into the institute, accepted me into the internship group. And again I accepted, but the NKVD looked at my biography - and I wrote that I was the son of a priest - and said that this was not allowed even as an intern. And rehearsals have already begun, and what’s interesting is that the actors who rehearsed with me wrote a collective letter: let’s take this guy, he’s promising, why should he ruin his life, he’ll be a trainee, then he’ll leave, but he’ll be useful. And as an exception, I was temporarily enrolled in the Bolshoi Theater, and I temporarily worked there for 50 years.
–During your studies, did you have any troubles because you went to church?
“Someone spied, lay in wait, but it didn’t matter.” You never know why a guy goes to church. Maybe the director needs to see the situation. And in the Bolshoi Theater, half of the actors were believers, almost all sang in the church choir and knew divine services better than anyone. I found myself in an almost native environment. I knew that on Saturdays and Sundays many people want to dodge work, because there is a service in the church and the singers are paid, so on Sundays there are either performances where few singers are involved, or ballet. The atmosphere at the Bolshoi Theater was unique and joyful for me. Maybe I’ll digress from the story….
Orthodoxy, among other things, organizes a person. Believers are endowed with some special gift - the gift of communication, the gift of friendship, the gift of participation, the gift of love - and this affects everything, even creativity. An Orthodox person, who creates something, does it willy-nilly through the control of his soul, answers to his internal controller. And I saw how this affected the work of the Bolshoi Theater artists, even if they were non-religious.
For example, Kozlovsky was a religious man, and Lemeshev was non-religious, but next to his believing friends, Sergei Yakovlevich was still marked by something non-Soviet, and this was striking. When people came to the Bolshoi Theater, the Art Theater or the Maly Theater, they found themselves in an environment that promoted correct perception classics. Now it’s different, Tolstoy and Dostoevsky are just a way for a director to express himself. And in my time, artists tried to delve as deeply as possible into the meaning of words and music, to get to the roots.
This is a huge amount of work, which modern creators rarely undertake, because they are in a hurry to stage the play as quickly as possible and move on to the next production. It is long and difficult to sit and think why Bolkonsky did not love his wife, but did not leave her, why he came to her funeral. My wife died - it’s over. The artist’s desire to unearth the depth of the author’s intention is gradually disappearing. I don't want to scold modern people– they are great and do a lot of interesting things, but this most important component of art is leaving the theater.
I consider myself lucky. What I had to experience in childhood and adolescence could have broken me, angered the whole world, but on the whole I consider my life happy, because I was involved in art, opera, and was able to touch the beautiful. I staged more than a hundred performances, and not only in Russia, but all over the world, I traveled with productions - I was in China, Korea, Japan, Czechoslovakia, Finland, Sweden, America - I saw what my colleagues were doing there, and I realized that I represent a very important direction in art. This is true realism in depicting what I want to convey.
–Do you remember your very first production?
– Professional? I remember. It was Aubert's opera Fra Diavolo with Lemeshev. Lemeshev's last role in the opera and my first production! The opera is structured in an unusual way - dialogues, it must be said, that is, the actors had to take the text and understand it, and not just solfegge and reproduce it vocally. When they first came to the rehearsal, they saw that there was no accompanist and asked where he was. I say: “There won’t be an accompanist, we’ll rehearse ourselves.” I gave them the texts without notes. Sergei Yakovlevich Lemeshev had already acted in films, so he immediately took it in, and the rest were stunned.
But we staged the play, Lemeshev shone there, and everyone sang well. It’s interesting for me to remember this, because whatever the artist, there’s a story there. For example, one role was played by the artist Mikhailov. You never know there are Mikhailovs in the world, but it turned out that this is the son of Maxim Dormidontovich Mikhailov, who was a deacon, then a protodeacon, then gave up everything and between exile and radio decided to choose radio, and from radio he came to the Bolshoi Theater, where he became a leading actor. And his son became the leading actor of the Bolshoi Theater, and his grandson, and also a bass. Willy-nilly, you catch up when you meet such dynasties.
- Interesting! You are an aspiring director, and Sergei Yakovlevich Lemeshev is a world celebrity. And he followed all your instructions, obeyed?
– He did it, moreover, he told others how to understand the director, how to obey. But one day he rebelled. There's a scene where five people are singing, and I built it around objects that they pass to each other. The action takes place in the attic, and everyone does their job by candlelight: one is courting a girl, the other is trying to rob a neighbor, the third is waiting for him to be called and come to calm everyone down, etc. And when I distributed who should do what, Lemeshev rebelled, threw away the lantern with a candle and said: “I’m not a distributor of details for you. I just want to sing. I am Lemeshev!” I answer: “Okay, you just sing, and your friends will do the right thing.”
We rested, calmed down, continued the rehearsal, everyone started singing, suddenly someone pushes Lemeshev and hands him a candle. Another one comes up and says: “Please move away, I’ll sleep here, and you stay there.” He sings and with a candle in his hands goes to left side. Thus, he began to do what was necessary, but it was not I who forced him, but his partners and the line of action that I tried to identify.
Then he came to defend my diploma. This was an event for the institute - Lemeshev arrived! And he said: “I wish the young director success, a capable guy, but remember, Georgy Pavlovich: do not overload the artists, because the artist cannot stand it.” Then he made a joke, but I won’t repeat the joke.
–Did you take his wish into account?
– I believe that the main thing in staging a play is working with the actor. I really love working with actors, and the actors feel it. I come, and everyone knows that I will pamper and cherish them, just so that they do everything right.
– When did you go on tour abroad for the first time?
– In 1961, to Prague. I staged “The Tale of a Real Man” at the Bolshoi Theater. This opera by Prokofiev was criticized, called terrible, but I took on the production. Maresyev himself came to the premiere and after the performance he approached the actors and said: “Dear guys, I’m so glad that you remembered that time.” It was a miracle - great hero came to us for a performance about him!
The Czech conductor Zdenek Halabala was at the premiere, and he invited me to stage the same performance in Prague. I went. True, the performance was designed by another artist, Joseph Svoboda, but it also turned out very well. And at the premiere in Prague it happened happy event, when two enemies... There was such a music critic Zdenek Nejedly, and he and Halabala hated each other. If Halabala came to some meeting, Needly did not go there, and vice versa. They made peace at my performance, and I was present. They both cried, and I teared up too. Soon they both died, so this event sunk into my soul as if it had been destined from above.
–You are still teaching. Are you interested in working with young people?
- Very interesting. I started teaching early, while still a student. Pokrovsky took me to the Gnessin Institute, where he also taught, as an assistant. Then I worked independently, and when I graduated from GITIS, I began teaching at GITIS. And I continue to work and learn a lot in my classes.
Students now are different, it can be very difficult with them, but many of them are as talented as our teachers, they are worth studying with them, and I am happy to study with them.. True, they often have to work with material that does not allow express yourself.
Especially on television - there are absolutely hacks: one, two, we shoot, get the money, goodbye, but what and how it turns out is none of your business. No respect for the actor. This offends and humiliates him. But what to do? Such a time. The actor himself has not become worse, and now there are great ones. Students create, and I, like 60 years ago, help them with this.
– Even in the most godless times, you, the son of a priest, went to church. Please tell us about the priests you met.
- This is very interesting and important topic, but keep in mind that I was a youth, then a youth, then an adult during the persecution, and, remembering those years, I remember only the terrible thing that was done to the priests, to the churches. All my adult life I have lived under persecution. These persecutions were so varied, original, and fanciful that I was amazed at how people who simply believe in God could be mocked like that.
I remember people who worked or served at the same time as Father Pavel, my father. Each priest was branded as a criminal for a crime that he did not commit, but for which he was accused, for which he was persecuted, beaten, cut, beaten and slaughtered by his family, young promising children. They bullied us as much as they could. No matter who I remembered - Father Pyotr Nikotin, the now living Father Nikolai Vedernikov, many others - they were all exhausted and tormented by time, bloodied. This is how I see these people whom I have observed since early childhood all my life.
– Did you have a confessor? First, perhaps, the father?
– Yes, as a child I confessed to my father. And then I went to different priests. I went to see Father Gerasim Ivanov. I was friends with him, we planned something together, did something, I helped him stretch canvases - he was a good artist. And often I went to church, not knowing who I would go to for confession, but in any case I ended up with a person who was bloodied by the mockery of him.
– I was lucky enough to know Father Gerasim in last years his life. He said that he had been friends with you since childhood.
– We have been friends for 80 years.
- So you became friends when he was 14 years old and you were 10? How did it happen? After all, in childhood, four years is a huge age difference.
– We studied at the same school. I felt lonely, I saw that he was lonely too. We got together, and suddenly it turned out that we were both not alone, but rich, because we have in our souls what warms us - faith. He was from an Old Believer family; later, after long and serious reflection, he converted to Orthodoxy. All this happened before my eyes. I remember how his mother was at first categorically against it, and then for it, because it gave him the opportunity to work, paint temples.
He often invited me to his home, always when I came, he fussed and said to his wife: “Valechka, come quickly.” One day we sat down at the table, and Valya sat down, and he remembered that they forgot to serve something, got up, pulled the tablecloth behind him, and the entire service that was on the table broke. But he endured it, we had dinner and talked.
– You are over 90 and you work, and Father Gerasim served almost until the end, and, although he no longer saw anything, he tried to write. I remember he spoke about a copy of Kramskoy’s painting “Christ in the Desert”, about his painting “The Salvation of Russia”.
– He wrote Nicholas the Pleasant as a representative of Rus', stopping a sword raised over the neck of some martyr, and above all this - the Mother of God. It was a very good composition, well thought out. But I also witnessed how he wanted to write, but could no longer. We went to the dacha to my niece Marina Vladimirovna Pokrovskaya. Father Gerasim served a prayer service, then went for a swim, wet his feet in the canal, came ashore happy and said: “It would be nice to paint a picture now.”
Marina said that she had paints at home, he asked to bring them, she brought them. Watercolor. Father Gerasim wet the brush, they moved his hand, and he asked over the paint what color it was - he himself could no longer distinguish colors. He didn’t finish the painting, he said that he would finish it later, and I carried home the wet canvas - an unfinished painting painted by Father Gerasim, who could hardly see anymore, but wanted to create. This thirst for creativity is more valuable than just creativity. As well as the desire, no matter what, to serve God. He didn’t see the text either; during the prayer service, my wife read prayers from the service book, and he repeated them after her.
And how patient he was! They painted the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, Father Gerasim also took part in this. He is looking for a stepladder, but they have already been taken apart - everyone wants to write. Standing, waiting. Someone asks: “Why are you standing?” He replies: “Yes, I’m waiting for the stepladder.” “I’ll give you a couple of boxes, put one on top of the other and climb in.” He gets in and starts writing. He writes once, twice, and then comes and sees that his Nikolai is being scraped off. Some girl decided to write Nikolai Ugodnik herself in the same place. Father Gerasim stopped, remained silent, prayed, and she scratched. And yet, under the gaze of the bent old man, she felt ashamed and left, and he continued to write. Here is an example of meekness, patience, and hope in God. He was a good man!
–You wrote a book about him. This is not your first book.
– It all started with my father. Once I wrote something similar to a story about my father, and my sister and niece said: write more, there have been so many cases, you will remember. This is how a series of short stories turned out, I showed them to the editor from the publishing house of the Moscow Patriarchate, she liked it, she went to Father Vladimir Silovyov, he said: let him add something, it will be more complete, and we will publish it. I didn’t expect it to work, but I added it, and they published it. I didn’t strive for this, but someone guided me. Now I already have ten books. On different topics, but the book about Father Gerasim is a continuation of what I wrote about my father.
In 2005, my father was glorified as a new martyr - thanks to the parishioners of the St. Nicholas Church, the same one that was destroyed before my eyes, and has now been restored. Here is his icon, wrote Anechka Dronova, a very good icon painter and artist! She painted two more icons of her father: one for the St. Nicholas Church, and I took the other to Ladoga.
This winter I broke my leg and while I’m homebound, I can’t go to the students and rehearse with them, although they are waiting for me, and all I can do is sit at the computer and write. Now I am writing about an interesting case. My father told me about shrines, mainly about architectural ones - St. Sophia of Constantinople, St. Sophia of Kyiv, St. Petersburg cathedrals and palaces... And I asked him to show me Moscow shrines: the Miracle Monastery, Ascension, Sretensky. He remained silent because he knew that they no longer existed. And I kept pestering him, even crying, and one day he decided to show me at least something that had survived - the Holy Monastery.
We got ready and went - it was the first time I was in the center of Moscow. My father gathered his hair under a hat so as not to stand out. We approached the monument to Pushkin, and it was all covered with pieces of paper with obscene inscriptions; a mountain of rubble lay nearby, blocking the entire street. My father pulled me away, sat down on a bench, wiping away my tears, and then I realized that the Holy Monastery was also destroyed. They started destroying it that night. I saw the already mutilated bell tower and some small house that still survived.
This tragedy had an unexpected continuation. My friend and student, a singer, was looking for a job after college, and he was hired as the director of the Durylin Museum in Bolshevo. And from him I learned that this museum was assembled by Durylin’s wife from the remains of the Passionate Monastery: from locks, windows, bulkheads, and other little things that she managed to pull out from the pile of remains of the destroyed monastery. Thus, I was present at the destruction of the monastery, but also saw what was preserved from it. I am writing about Durylin as my teacher, and about his wife.
– Did he teach you?
- Yes, the history of the theater. He was the head of the department. A very well-read person, interesting, but survived a tragedy. After the revolution, he became a priest, he was arrested, exiled, they fussed over him, Shchusev asked Lunacharsky, Lunacharsky promised to intercede, but only if he took off his cassock. This problem was posed to many people, and each solved it in their own way. And Durylin decided in his own way. I won’t say how I decided. Read it when I finish it.
– You are 91 years old, you have been through so much, but you are still full of energy and plans. What helps you still stay creative?
– It’s somehow awkward to talk about myself, but since the conversation has started... I think that God wants it this way. I start my day, especially as I get older, by thanking God that I am alive today and can do something. The feeling of joy that I can live another day in work and creation is already quite a lot. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. Maybe I'll die tomorrow. And today, in order to fall asleep peacefully, I say: thank you, Lord, for giving me the opportunity to live this day.
Interviewed by Leonid Vinogradov
Photo: Ivan Jabir
Video: Victor Aromshtam
I have hated zoos my entire adult life. Tortured, skinny animals languishing in cages no bigger than a shoebox. And in winter... How, for example, does a monkey, accustomed to palm trees and the scorching sun, tolerate this cold?
I had never been to the Minsk Zoo before. But in the pursuit of information, wherever the devil leads!
The first ones I saw were camels. Three faithful comrades were on duty very close to the fence, waiting for treats. The visitors did not skimp and fed them. The camels happily chewed the delicacy, simultaneously grabbing mittens from their hands. We washed it down... with snow. Yes, after every cookie they ate, they leaned down to chew a cold one.
Then I saw lioness, who passionately said goodbye to a zoo worker leaving her shift to go home. Huge cat She was very worried, scratching the wall with her claws, caressing herself against the bars.
You are probably old friends? Tell me, what do your lions eat? - I asked the employee.
Yes, these are my favorites! Although the lions see me almost every day, every time they say goodbye so desperately that tears well up. Well, as for food, there’s only... Beef is the main product. The meat is always fresh. And this is not only from good attitude towards animals, but also out of banal caution. Any errors in feeding can cause irreparable harm, which is why, as you can see, there are “do not feed” signs everywhere on the cages.
It was a pity for those who missed you wolves. They lay down in the snow, buried themselves in it, ran around the enclosure, went into their house and returned. The gray ones looked good: healthy coat, well-fed appearance. But the territorial problem is visible to the naked eye. The kingdom is too small - there is nowhere to roam.
Owl I didn’t see it right away. As it turned out, she had. After the meal, the bird deigned to come out and even posed for the camera .
Coming out of the owlery, the girlfriends - zoo employees - brought out many plates of food. Some of the “dishes” looked terrifying - dead rats... I tried to find out more about it:
Excuse me, you probably feed the animals? Can I take some photos?
Certainly! Come with us.
As it turns out, the owl loves mice. But I was also interested in the other residents of the zoo; I wanted to see their lunch with my own eyes. My “tour guides” were called Angela, Sasha and Olya. They not only feed, but also prepare menus for the animals themselves. The inhabitants there eat consistently twice a day. And sometimes there is a late dinner.
Nosukhi We're already tired of waiting for our lunch, which looks, to put it mildly, unappetizing. Rats and beef. And they seemed so harmless... Appearances are deceiving.
One fact surprised me. When you stand outside, it seems that there, behind the glass, there is almost permafrost, but in fact it is impossible to heat.
Main meerkat peered into the glass to be the first to notify his fellow tribesmen about something pleasant. They were shy for a long time, but then they succumbed to temptation and began to eat. Lunch consisted of fruit porridge (semolina, powdered milk, honey, peaches, bananas, seedless grapes, oranges, sugar), beef, fresh carrots, grated melon and fruit compote (). It should be noted that almost all animals, except predators, get this sweet porridge and compote.
Minok they were placed in cramped cages (temporary shelter while waiting for their own house), and they were just waiting for the moment to jump out of them. The fastest one went on a reconnaissance mission and tried all the dishes. Verdict - “the food is not poisoned, the king can eat!” The diet is still the same porridge of fruits and meat.
I was touched by how the employees played with the minks - petting them, hugging them like children. The animal care specialists turned out to be very positive, funny and... even touching. I was very pleased with this fact, because... I would like animals and birds forced to live in captivity to be able to receive care, love and good nutrition.
We settled down very comfortably mongooses. They freely go out to meet their chefs. From food they prefer beef, porridge, small rodents, fresh carrots, melon.
Later we went to the kitchen for another portion.
This handsome man looked very happy. He even smiled. Of course, they give such sweets! Boiled potatoes, fresh cabbage, carrots, seeds, oranges, coconut, bananas, apples, some nuts, compote and sandwiches with jam (!).
His girlfriend prefers about the same. The only thing that distinguishes them from humans is that they like to mix and scatter all the neatly placed food on the “table”.
Red monkeys very careful. While the care professionals laid out treats for them, the “hussars” hid and waited, peering curiously from the corner. They took the food carefully and respectfully. This house seemed to me the most comfortable and clean of all the monkey houses.
Lelik and Bolik eat the same things as other primates. And they also love candy! If you really, really want to treat them, then chocolate candies - best gift. And the wrapper is not a hindrance: macaques know how to carefully remove it. But - attention! - they can just as carefully remove the watch from your hands, pull it out of your pocket mobile phone and other valuables.
Masha I ate a little, but this is already progress. Before this, zoo workers had been unable to persuade her to eat anything for three whole days. The fact is that Masha is in mourning for her beloved - a Javanese macaque named Evgeniy Petrovich, who was already very old and recently died.
Cougar named Tata only 8 months. She is still just a kitten and her habits are very cute. The employees love Tatu so much that they constantly come to pet her and hug her. The little cougar purrs loudly and licks its “mommies.” But other zoo visitors should refrain from playing - such “cuddles” are only for a select few. The puma eats beef and veal. She is also given additional vitamins to strengthen her bones and keep her coat fluffy. fruits and special mixtures - both purchased and prepared independently.
The zoo was not my favorite place to relax. And I still feel sorry for the animals. They are cut off from nature, live in small cells, in best case scenario- in the room adjacent to the enclosure. They can’t run around enough, they can’t live life to the fullest. Their entire existence is geared to overcoming their fear of people, to making us stare at them through glass and bars. It's cruel. I still hate zoos. But for one thing my heart is at peace. While Angela, Sasha and Olya are caring for the animals, the animals and birds will be warm, and they will be fed tasty and satisfying food .
