Автор: admin, 11 Ноя 2012

It was the eve of the new 1953. The boys talked about how they cut down the fir tree and install in the barracks, and the girls will make glued paper-toys for decoration of the Christmas tree. They, usually, installed a tree in the barrack, where the girls lived. There in the morning, on the 1 of January they celebrated the New Year. This festival was organized by children themselves. They avoid to attend at the school Christmas tree, and the older guys just ignored it, especially when a riot took place, and the populace was divided into two warring camps: the children “of enemies of the people” and their jailers. At the school Christmas tree, Martynov lined them in the usual row and told a boring speech, so the teachers could force only small kids to come there.

There in the morning, on the 1 of January they celebrated the New Year. This festival was organized by children themselves. They avoid to attend at the school Christmas tree, and the older guys just ignored it, especially when a riot took place, and the populace was divided into two warring camps: the children “of enemies of the people” and their jailers. At the school Christmas tree, Martynov lined them in the usual row and told a boring speech, so the teachers could force only small kids to come there.

Their own childish tree was a real feast. There were no adults. Children felt free alone and relaxed. Festive food was scarce. But it was gathered, beforehand, since the summer. It was basically biscuits, caramel, gingerbread, honeycakes, candies, crackers sprinkled with sugar, sometimes pieces of halva, apples. They managed to collect Christmas gifts and saved its thanks to kids who were allowed to receive post parcels from their relatives for good behavior.

As the "Union of self- defense" decided, some of these parcels of non-perishable food have to be kept postponed until the New Year. Then the "Union of self-defense," picked out the “children with parcels” and supervised over them, guarded and checked in order that there would have been no violations and penalties imposed on them, and they would not be deprived of parcels from relatives. These children were protected, and this rule is strictly observed. For every kid in the New Year eve something delicious were hidden in a large homemade paper firecracker. Small kids were very happy and jumping around the trees and forgot for a moment all their grudges and sufferings.

It was the night before the New Year after midnight when Vladimir Obolensky felt a strong cutting pain in the lower abdomen. He tried to endure, hoping the pain subsides, but it is becoming more acute and unbearable. He began to shout, turned pale, there was a shortness of breath. The guys woke up, lights were turned on. In the room slept twelve people.

Red-haired Roma, devoted friend of Volodya, dressed quickly and ran to the midwife - Aunt Dunya. She lived in the orphanage in a small house. Very soon, Roma came back with the anxious old lady. The old woman touched his belly and even more worried. She immediately sent Roma for Yemelyan Ivanovich and asked him to harness his horse to the sleigh as soon as possible and bring the boy to the district hospital. In the meantime, she gave Volodya some powders and sat side by side, holding his hand and comforting him.

Half an hour later a young nimble mare Norka were harnessed to the sleigh, and Volodya was wrapped in a sheepskin coat and carried on the sledge. "My dear fellow, Emelyan Ivanovich - wailed midwife - for God's sake, drive quickly, a little boy seems to have peritonitis,” - And whispered in his ear, so no one could hear: "He could die on the road. Drive a horse better. All my hope on you. God bless you "- and she crossed Volodya.

It was a bright moonlit frosty night. It was nearly twenty degrees. The snow crunched under the runners. "Silence amazing," - thought Volodya. The moon looked at them from the sky and soothed the soul. From Norka steaming. The road was slippery and the horse was running easily and quickly. The district hospital was not close - thirty miles away. Emelyan Ivanovic began to tell something, Volodya listened and listened and dozed off.

The pain is almost gone. Stomach was like a dumb, and Volodya did not feel it on the frosty air. He did not remember how long he was in a sleepy daze, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw above him the heavens and the silver disc of the moon. Now they were driving along the field, and the horse walked slowly and with difficulty. The snow was soft, deep snow piled up.

Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. They saw along the road the small village which stood on the hill - only eight houses. Black leaning walls of houses, haystacks covered with planks and tar-papers. Sleepy dogs barked reluctantly, and they've already passed the village.

Again black silent forest stretched along the road. Trees were covered with snow and seemed asleep forever. They drove for a long time. The horse was tired and went to the small trot step. The road seemed endless to Volodya. No sounds across. And Norka blazes a trail in the loose snow, which reached almost to her belly.

Рубрика: Prince Vladimir - History of Life | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: NEW YEAR’S EVE

Автор: admin, 11 Ноя 2012

They got up early, before sunrise for mowing. The grass still bathed in dew ... Milk-white fog melted ... There was a smell of morning freshness.

Meadow, much looked like a field, but uneven, passed into the tiny patch of forest. Red bramble like red drops was burning in the grass ... young boletus hiding around clumps. Vladimir sat on an old fallen tree and waited for the mowing start. Time passed since that memorable winter's arrival to the orphanage. Now, his subconscious fear of the unknown was gone. And now this unknown place - the orphanage for the children of “enemies of the people” which broke the usual family life, was not frightened him anymore, for he was not alone here. And the unusual atmosphere joined him with the same as he, living here boys and girls, companions in his misfortune.

They raised the scythes and taking bars, sharpened steel. These sounds resembled a beautiful melodic chime, and, probably, this ringing woke a forest. Black thrush flew low over the meadow. Dragonfly-beauty with a blue belly sat on a daisy. Wind tore off a few pine cones, and they resoundingly flopped to the ground. The woodpecker tapped yet unwillingly and hesitantly.

At last children, lined up in a long straight line, waved with the scythes. Cut grass lay down gently, easily, covering the field with a green layer. The sky was painted in a pale pink color ... and then mixed with pure blue ... and, finally, with a bright golden-yellow.
At noon, the heat was hanging right over the head. Some bee hummed drowsy.

The wind ceased. They brought lunch. Hot food steamed. It smelled of boiled potatoes and dill. The cut pieces of bread looked like the porous honeycomb. While they were eating, was the sound of spoons. Scythes, burying its sharp ends into the ground, were resting. Pleasant weakness seized Volodya ... The whole body went limp. Bottomless sky dome floated before his eyes. He lay on his back under a pine tree and saw a large black ant, and droplets of resin, like frozen tears on the trunk ... It smelled of pine needles and the heated ground. And the blue dome of the sky is still sailed away with him.

In the evening there was a thunderstorm, which came from the forest - where the vast swamp stretched and there was a thick acrid fog. Huge space of quagmire evoked in the boy a strange feeling of stopped time, external peace and fear.

He liked to sit on the soft friable tussocks and watch the green motionless duckweed, listening to the screaming bittern in the reeds. Ducks rise noisy in the air, and then silence came again. Sometimes he saw the funny sandpiper paces on long stilted legs ... Then it seemed to him that this apparent stillness of the swamp persistently keeps its own secret.

Rain poured immediately. The big heavy drops tilted to the land not yet mown grass. Only sedge boldly exposed the sharp green leaves-arrows. The forest darkened. Scythes raised on the shoulders tinkled softly from fast walking. Suddenly they felt uncomfortable. In the twilight, fancy shadows were creeping and changed shape. Far ahead, where the forest switched to black and purple line and touched the edge of the sky, the last gleams of sunset burned out. And no one wanted the rain extinguished them altogether.

Wild raspberries grow freely. It is grown in man's height and stretched far away, about two kilometers along the edge of the forest. The berries were hanging by large clusters on the branches. The sun shone through their delicate watery-red flesh and attracted wasps. They bend the delicate striped waists and dived to the raspberry cane. Volodya looked at wasps. His face and his hands were covered with pink spots. Young nettles burned hands with sharp pain. The thick pale green caterpillar had finished raspberry leaf.

These pictures of childhood, with their colors, sounds and smells, Vladimir remembered later, much later, in the hardest and the difficult days of his life and made him miss the childhood ... such a heavy and desolate, yet childhood, but it will never return.

Рубрика: Prince Vladimir - History of Life | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: MOWING

Автор: admin, 11 Ноя 2012

Life in the internate went on schedule, like in a soldier's barracks in accordance with the habits and the level of martinet educators. They really did not know anything other than military drill. It was nothing to say about their spiritual level. Many children have written and read much better than their competent "teachers" and those children who was developed in education, well-read, with a talent for foreign languages, music, painting, of course, cause irritation and anger at the teachers. Narrow-minded people always hate the cultural and educated ones.

There were especially gifted children, a boy Igor Moskalev perfectly painted. He studied for some time in the art studio in Moscow, and then was enclosed in the internate. He couldn’t get used to a new life. He suffered much, longed for his parents. However, all the children were in pain. He was allowed to paint colors only on major proletarian holidays, after he wrote on a red calico some stupid slogans like: "Stalin - a great leader of the working people" or "Thank Stalin for our happy childhood." The latter slogan particularly "fits" to the children of “enemies of the people”. They had many reasons to "thank" the leader. The talent of Igor surprised all the kids. He wrote beautiful portraits of children and educators. The last he had never shown, because he was able to grasp all the human vices. His portraits of the children were amazing. Bright personalities, characters, moods ... Art exhibitions were held in the woods, away from the eyes of martinet-educators and Martynov.

Masha Tutchev played the piano beautifully. She composed the music. Of course, there were no musical instruments except old false piano. Mary adjusted it herself and played when she had free time, which was not enough. It was a little easier in the summer when mowing and hay-harvesting finished.

Vladimir Obolensky became friends with Masha and Igor, and often listened to her piano playing, and at these moments he remembered the house, and his mother, and her friend - Aunt Lisa – Elizabeth Mordkin, the daughter of the famous ballet dancer Mordkin, now she was the widow of Captain Tsvetkovsky, who was shot by the Bolsheviks in Moscow in the former Alexeyev cadet school, just for the fact that he was an officer. Aunt Lisa has taught Volodya French language and soon became like a family member.

Volodya liked Masha Tutchev, he “nearly fell in love" with her, although he was younger by two years. The history of her appearance in the internate was shrouded by secret, it was known only that she is a distant relative on her father’s side of the Russian poet Tutchev. Blond, blue-eyed with a slender waist and lovely features of the Slavic type, Masha had a good disposition and a kind wistful smile, a little sad ... and tender. “How she managed to keep all her good features in the Stalinist hell in Meshchera?” - Volodya often thought. Masha and Igor became his especial friends. And much later, as adults, he tried to find them scattered around the world by merciless fate. But he could not found them. They seemed to have sunk into eternity, into oblivion or nonexistence... or flown to another planet ... or, perhaps, were killed in this brutal country where man is no longer friend or brother to each other. This loss tormented him all his life.

But let’s come back to internate weekdays. The rise began early, at six in the morning. They slept in two barracks, boys in one, girls - in the other. In a winter, in frosty nights hungry wolves came out in the moonlight at the edge of the forest, they sat howling at the moon. The show was impressive.

Morning exercise almost always took place outside, except when it was a frost 20-30 degrees below zero. After that, they all went into the dining room. For breakfast was given gruel on the water, a piece of black bread and weak tea without sugar. What is the white bread and butter, kids had forgotten a long time ago. The breakfast was followed by mandatory standing in rows. Usually Martynov had a speech, to ensure that children have to thank Stalin and the Soviet regime, for they, parasites, have been feeding here, and they are not responsible for their fathers - the enemies of the people.
Then came the lessons. For the children who received bad marks – food was not given for a whole day. At two o'clock in the afternoon was dinner-time. Soup or schi were cooked on water, mostly with the potatoes and cabbage. On the second dish – nothing but potatoes with salted cucumbers, or gruel without butter.

By the way, the children planted and harvested vegetables for themselves. They planted and grew potatoes, cabbage, carrots, onions. Agricultural work continued all summer and part of autumn. Vegetables grown and harvested with children sweat, Martynov and educators took for themselves. Although they had their own vegetable gardens and livestock, it does not stop them from robbing children. They stole everything they could ... including products: butter, meat, sugar, which children haven’t seen, and clothing. A hungry, often sick, ragged children ran around the internate in the search for food. They never ate their fill. So Stalin and the Bolsheviks dealt with innocent children. Their system did not differ from an ordinary fascism. And, therefore, they are cursed by their own people and their victims.

From three to seven in the evening, usually, was labour duty. The children have worked up a sweat: in the barnyard, in the dugouts – storages for vegetables, they clove ice, removed snow, mowed the grass in the summer for internate’s animals (four horses) and educators’s livestock (ten cows, eight goats and ten sheep). Mowing began at dawn from four to eight in the morning and from four to eight in the evening. Total full eight-hour day. Jailers skillfully exploited child labor. Perhaps it was also necessary for "world-wide victory of communism." At seven, they went to supper. The same "menu": a piece of black bread, gruel or potatoes, instead of tea – water on dry carrots. It appeared that the children themselves got their bread by the sweat in the Bolshevik’s paradise.
From eight to ten in the evening children taught lessons. At ten exactly – retreat and sleep.

Such was a life in this special internate for the children of enemies of the people. Day after day the same thing.

The beautiful forests and fields stretched around this place, lakes and rivers that are unique in their origin. In some lakes, as in White Lake, clear water reflects the bottom, and the water of Black Lake was as black and dense as tar, and fat carp was found there. Nature astonished by its virginity and beauty. Meschera was well-described by Konstantin Paustovsky, but he likely could not assume that this charming region can be turned into a prison for children.

Рубрика: Prince Vladimir - History of Life | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: ONE DAY IN CHILDREN’s GULAG.

Автор: admin, 11 Ноя 2012

Destroyed narrow railway winding led deep into the woods. Fir-trees lined up along the embankment and stretched its snowy branches, looked like the guards.

Train, strained, gave a prolonged whistle, pulled wagons and drove them on, puffing on a pipe and blowing white steam. There was silence. The wind was blowing in the face of Vladimir, covering his face with snowy dust. High off-size felt boots rubbed his feet and prevented from going. Earflaps tied under his chin muffled hearing. Tears choked the boy and ... cold streams froze on his cheeks.

He again saw very clearly his mother's eyes ... Her big suffering hands swollen with veins, soft, warm and still alive ... then they cramped ... fell and died away for ever.
A man in civilian clothes from the KGB smoked his cigarette incessantly, God knows how many, and firmly holding the hand of Volodya, stepped by broad military pace. Strong winds and snow hit in the face. Finally, in a white haze appeared houses ...they were scattered across the meadow, like a spilled mushrooms ...
Dogs barked, smell edible. Ovens were heated: it was the smoke from the chimneys.
- Here we are - the man said ... and threw his cigarette into the snow.

Special internate for children of enemies of the people, it was called “special kindergarten”, located in a remote dense Meschersky forest. Before there used to be a camp for criminals. The barbed wire and the watch towers were removed, because the children had nowhere to flee. The nearest settlement – beyond thirty kilometers. And whom to run to? Their parents, most shot or imprisoned in the concentration camps convicted on political charges (Article #58) ... So, likely tortured and died from tortures, hunger, disease ... And obscure unknown common grave is waiting for them in hastily dug pit.

The children here were different: the descendants of the destroyed class of the Russian nobility and the intelligentsia, and the children of Communist party officials, and military of high rank, who were shot or sitting in prison. Age of children: from seven to sixteen years. Both boys and girls lived here, total one hundred and fifty children.

This "institution" was headed by a former Major Martynov. He was named “The Head” and wore a pistol in a holster. He was known for his stupidity and sadism. Another ten teachers were not far from him. Basically, they were former junior officers and petty officers, discharged from the army for drunkenness, immoral conduct and other “valor”. Some of them came here with their wives and immediately rebuilt their houses.

There were few buildings in the orphanage zone: two sleeping barracks, carpentry, dining room, a stable with four horses and the so-called “school” for the first through seventh grade. Teachers and their wives taught in the school and taking in account the fact that teachers themselves had the education of four to seven classes, one can imagine how "lucky" were children with school education.

However, they often had to think about something else: how to survive in this hell. One hundred and fifty children had no medical staff, even a nurse, not to mention a doctor. Only after several children’s deaths an old woman was sent from the district center, she was a nurse, as it turned out to be a midwife. Children, however, were not going to give birth, but as Russian proverb says “without a fish - crab is a fish.”

Martynov was called “the killer of Lermontov." Why this nickname was stuck to him, it is difficult to explain: whether for his ferocity, meanness and sadistic habits. He liked, for example, keep kids outside half-naked on the line for hours to stand at attention and telling them what the scoundrels their parents are they themselves, the children of enemies of the people. It was especially hard to resist its execution in the winter and autumn. The children fell ill with pneumonia and died. Perhaps the nickname caught on after a case of a fourteen-year-old Vova Zubrilin. Vova was well-read intelligent boy. On the morning line, Vova shouted: “Martynov, you are a scoundrel! You are the same as a murderer of Lermontov!” There was dead silence. Martynov flushed, turned pale and then flushed again. There were giggles. Then he exploded and began to threaten all imaginable and unimaginable penalties. Vova Zubrilin was put in solitary confinement, in a cooler, where the stored vegetables. In any case, the nickname stuck.

In the orphanage were a lot of various punishment: the cooler, which was called even easier: put in the cold, then food deprivation for several days, however, there were the rescue guys who tore away food from themselves and brought to the punished. Then grueling hard work - to crush ice or hew firewood until you're blue. To stay in line for hours outside in any weather. Beating children by educators. And finally, the most terrible crime happened suddenly: rape of the girl by scum-educator. The victim Kate Beloselsky did not stand the horror of what happened, and hanged herself. Before killing herself she with grief and despair ran to a good and hearty old woman, a nurse midwife Aunt Dunya (Evdokia Ivanovna), and, weeping, told her everything. She examined the girl and tried as best she could to comfort ... but evidently it did not help ...

It happened a few years after the arrival of Vladimir. For now, stepping into the territory of the orphanage, Vladimir Obolensky did not know in what a monstrous torture-chamber for children, invented by Stalin and his team of cannibals, he finds himself.

Volodya had dreams there. Some were long and almost real, with successive plots, while others - short and fantastic, extremely unnatural. They instantly disappeared, scattering like colored pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope of childhood. Then dreams appeared again, changing the details and paints.

There he saw himself in the age of seven, going on a long endless street. The pavement was empty for some reason and no cars. It turns out it was night and the moon shone in full. The moon lit up a street and some other burning light was far ahead. He was scared and ran. He fled with all his might, and the light was approaching slowly. He caught the air by his mouth and choked, and was ready to fall ... But suddenly a white semi-circular building in three floors with columns and a dome with a round roof grown before him.

Blackening windows sockets stared at him coldly and ungraciously. Cast iron fence blocked his way, but he saw pass and rushed there. Flower beds were under his feet. Sweet and tart, so giddy, smelled the flowers. Lights went on, and one window wide open ... and he saw his mother, long black hair and pale face. "It was good that I'm here! - He thought - and will soon be over her night shift at the hospital, and we will go home together ... " But then his mother's face was floating off, changing ... White building with columns, flower beds and iron fence disappeared.

Рубрика: Prince Vladimir - History of Life | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: Children's Gulag, historical novel, Russian prose, writer Vladimir Obolensky

Автор: admin, 11 Ноя 2012

In Sclifosovsky Institute at that time the wounded soldiers were still treated, where was the hospital for officers and privates. Department, where the officers laid were known as "sausage" due to its form, looked like round sausage. The building was old, of pre-revolutionary time. Facade went out on the Garden Ring, in front of it was a small garden and a wide porch with columns. In the yard of the hospital, there was the park with centuries-old limes and benches underneath, recovering soldiers walking here. Further, close to the fence there was a laboratory for dogs’ experimentation.

Quite in depth was no notable cottage. In it lived a famous scientist, Director of the Institute, surgeon and academician Sergei Sergeevich Yudin. Tall, very thin, with kind attentive eyes. He invited Volodya's mother immediately for an interview, after she gave an application for a job in the Hospital. She was hired first as a physician, then in a few months Zinochka already stood at the operating table as the second Assistant with Professor Petrov, then she assisted to Sergey Yudin. One year later she helped Yudin as first Assistant. Soon she made independent operations and designated as operating surgeon-intern. It was a time when the entire medical world — and in the USSR and abroad — admired by unique surgeries of Sergey Yudin. Especially his famous design of artificial gullet.

Volodya often visited his mother when she had to spend the night in the Hospital, and he slept in the stuff-room. Such nights were innumerable. Sometimes he met Sergey Yudin and firmly decided when he will grow up — he definitely will be a surgeon. In the meantime, he helped take care of the wounded soldiers.

Time fled very quickly. That's already passed the year of 1947 when they cancelled the food-cards, and life has become easier. Now every year the prices of food and manufactured goods came down. Radio solemnly declared decreased percentage. A narrow but long Sretenka street was overcrowded by shops.

And when Volodya went there to buy 150 grams of cheap gammon-chopped sausages in slices, there were not enough money to buy more — the showcases were full with delicious food... Black caviar shone with black-matte tints, red caviar looked like guilder-rose. Pyramid of cans with crabs were up to the ceiling, and hot smoked sturgeon displayed as Queen fish, sparkled with amber-coloured fat. Herring was available fish. But how many varieties and sorts of herring! .. If you count on the fingers of your hand, not enough fingers of both hands. And sausage departments! Sausages made of veal-tongue and the sirloin of veal, stuffed and Stolichnaya and ham, meat-bread shape and blood meat-jelly of all sorts, white meat-jelly and Czech špikački, Hunter's special smoked sausages ... Hams, rostovskie, tambovskie, ham-rolls and carbonate, the neck and roasted beef meat, different varieties and sizes of sausages... Then came the cheeses: they were such abundance that it is impossible to count all at once. And confectionery showcases amazed imagination not only of hungry children of war times. But prices — prices were pricy. In fiftieth years, prices came down a little, but still the majority of the people were not able to afford.

The happiest day for Volody was, of course, his birthday. Zinochka bought him necessarily present — a cake "Fairy Tale". Amazingly beautiful, with two cream roses on the top, red and white or tea-rose colour. Plus his mother prepared him a solemn feast with lemonade, dinner with fried meat and candies. But the crown of all, of course, had been cake "Fairy Tale". Some guests were invited: Lisa Mordkin and neighbors-children — Edik, Valera and Eric.

During normal weekdays Volodya first walked into the Hospital’s kindergarten, close to their house, in Groholsky Lane, and in 1947, went to school, which was in the next small Suharevskom lane. Needed only come down the street, cross Trubnaya street, and you are on the spot. In the first class, they had very wicked teacher Travkina. Why she was always angry with everyone and everything, he could not understand. Maybe something in her life went wrong, he thought.

In the house-yard, his friends were Edic and Erik, the son of a truck driver "Studebaker". All boys were envy of Eric, but his father drove the kids in the truck with pleasure when he left the car in the yard overnight. On the second floor in the same entryway with them lived Lela, the same age as Volodya. He liked her. Thin, slender, blue-eyed, with thick plait, Lela, as her father, a violinist, learned to play the violin, she was friendly and quiet. Volodya was very fond of her, and one day he waited when she returned home ...he spoke to her and suggested ... be friends. Lela agreed. And since sometimes they walked together. Volodya drove her on the sleigh in the yard or on Color Boulevard. It was interesting with her. She told about Central Music School, where she studied, told him of the books she read. Volodya was fond of Andersen ... And sometimes Lela reminded him of Gerda from "Snow Queen".

He loved his mother, and he felt so fine with her. "When I grow up, I'll drive you on the sleigh and be sure I’ll buy for you the warmest and beautiful fur coat ... as to the Queen! " - said Volodya, looking at mother’s coat with the deteriorated sealskin collar. His mother laughed and kissed it.

More than anything else, except for mom and birthday, Volodya liked New Year Eve. And that winter evening, December 31, 1950, he remembered particularly well. Soft fluffy snow fell down, it was a bit cold and snowflakes were melting, dropping on a face. They were walking with his mother at Yaroslavskiy market along Mecshanskaya Street, first by bus, then on foot. Volodya carried children's sledge, which should fit the tree. They came beyond Riga station and Krestovsky bridge. Market-place was very small, and not so many people there. They found only one seller trees and seemed to have picked up the last one. Christmas tree was a fabulously beautiful and fluffy. They rushed home, after all, how many preparations for the new year ahead… establish and decorate the Christmas tree. They successfully boarded the bus and soon found themselves at Sretenka at the "cinema" Uranium " bus stop. It’s quite close to Suharevsky lane and to their house.

Zinochka baked the duck, aunt Liza Mordkina was covering on the table. On the Christmas tree the children hung tangerines and nuts in a silver foil, a colored firecracker with hidden surprises, candy or serpentine. "What a wonderful new year! Volodya screamed when the clock struck midnight. — This is my happiest year. "

The year 1951 came on.

Terrible year of the tragic events that turned over the life of Volodya Obolensky ... But now he knew nothing and was carefree with joy and laughter.
"Doctors’ affair," fabricated by Stalin's lackeys, in those days everybody remembered. It has already "passed" in full swing. Wild articles were published in the press, where major medical scientists were accused. The articles shamelessly defamed and attributing unthinkable crimes to the doctors, have even gone so far as to alleged that doctor-plotters deliberately killed their patients. Surprisingly, this monstrous fiction found the gullible. Stalin’s propaganda machine was pressing on the brain.

Then came the turn of the academic Yudin and he's fallen into the black list. And no wonder. The human malice is black, and the enemies did not love him for his independent nature. Besides, he did not dedicate his scientific writings and discoveries “to leader of all times and peoples" - to Stalin. He was arrested and taken away at night, and in the windows of his house where he lived in the park of the Institute, light was on through the night. Similar Sergey Yudin’s family members were in a terrible trance and confusion.

Zinochka just had been on duty that day night. Without waiting for the morning, the KGB began questioning the staff of the institute. Zina had been asked to sign a protocol in which she was to confirm the facts of sabotage and espionage of Professor Yudin. Zina laughed. "What espionage, where and in whose favor?" - "You do not know your boss!" - Calmly said the investigator. - "We know that he went to America." - "But there was simply an exponential operation for colleagues." - Zina replied.

-"A what more did academic Yudin do in the US, do you know?" - "Consulted patients. He couldn’t do amything but it. He is a crystal clear man, a great scientist, finally! "-" Your husband you also considered the crystal clear? "- Sarcastically remarked investigator. - "Yes, of course, no doubt!" - Retorted Zina. - "That explains why you are defending the people's enemy. You, the wife of an enemy of the people? "-" I am afraid, already a widow, "- she sighed heavily.

-"It makes no difference - the investigator continued. - We, the authorities really know, citizen Yudin met in America with special services. And so, got a job from them. But what kind of job, we will find out, despite the reluctance of some elements to perform their civic duty. " - "A false accusation and perjury do you call ... civil duty! "- Zina answered indignantly. There was a pause, the investigator paused, took off his glasses, rubbed them, then hoisted again on the nose. - "If you don’t care about your own life, think about your child," - he concluded. Zinochka started. -

"And if I will not sign these ... testimony, what’s then? "-" Then you can easily become a defendant out of a witness. We have quite enough-making basis to doubt you. Your origin! Relatives abroad! Your husband - enemy of the people! He is one of the princes, it seems, isn’t he? "- He smiled slyly. - "Yes, of princes, and I'm proud of it! His ancestors had served the country and brought a lot of benefits to Russia! From a century to a century. Starting from the tenth century. And they were not at war with poor women like you, and they did not kill innocent children!”

Investigator turned red and jumped up from his chair. He shouted and waved his long fists, and threatened her with her son to rot in the camps. Then he got tired of his eloquence, and, panting, sat down. Again a pause. "So you refuse to sign the protocol-papers and confession that you concealed from us the truth about the anti-state activities of a citizen Yudin S.S.?" - "I refuse to bear false witness!" - Cut Zina.

- "Good. I am informing you that we bring into criminal action against you ... About complicity. About what you will be notified separately. If you do not think better of it "-" You will arrest me now? "- She was worried. - "No, - hissed the investigator. - “Although it should be. Sign now your obligation not to leave Moscow. For a while, it’s such a preventive measure. To arrest you, we always have time. You are free to think about your son "- he concluded edifying.

Zina staggered out of the office and hardly got to the room for medical staff. Volodya saw her and was scared. He was dozing on the couch. He jumped up and helped her lie down. My mother was pale as a sheet, and cried silently, her lips trembling, frozen despair in her eyes. Thus, he remembered her forever! That was the last moment of their "meeting" in this life. Volodya ran to the office nurse. They called two other doctors on duty from other departments. One of them, an elderly physician, watching and listening to a heart, and said softly: "It looks like a heart attack ..."

Electrocardiogram confirmed the diagnosis. Extensive myocardial infarct. The next day she died. Volodya saw her in the morgue, then had a small memorial civil service at the Institute of Sklifosovsky. And Zinochka was taken on her last journey to the church at cemetery Pyatnickoe. Liza Mordkin, a friend of her mother, insisted on burial service, she knew that Zina was a believer. Members of the Institute and neighbors at home helped bury.

Funeral service at church struck Volodya by its splendor and solemn mournful sounds of the choir. Previously, he often came with his mother in the church. But just now he felt an unusual connection between the living and the dead, between God and man ... What a great mystery of birth and death of the person behind this rite of funeral and burial. And it seemed God had created man, his immortal soul! And Darwin's theory was seen as a terrible sacrilege. Volodya said farewell to Mom and bent over the coffin, noticed on her face print of detachment and renunciation of all earthly things. As if she felt something thoughtful. Perhaps, of the future in her other world, thought Volodya. Let it will be good for her there. And he kissed his mother one last time.

The memorial wake was bitter, and Volodya ran into the room of Aunt Lisa, and wept there, alone, of longing for the mother, despair and hopelessness. Funeral preparations and other vanity a little distracted him from his misfortunes ... Only when he was left alone, he realized, and a felt all the horror of his loss, and he was afraid. But a deeper and more serious and irrecoverable loss of grief he experienced when he became an adult.

Two weeks passed. May turned out to be warm and even hot. In the yard, the boys played football and girls in the "classics" the same way as before... The sun was shining, trees getting green, the starlings flew in the park of the Sklifosovsky Hospital. In the dog kennel, red female-dog Dean gave birth to puppies. "Surprisingly - thought Volodya, - after the death of my mom ... the most beautiful in the world, the most favorite ... nothing in the world has changed! " And he was grasped by anguish.

Zina colleagues at the institute thought and decided to send Volodya during the summer to the pioneer camp in Istra-river. Volodya lived there all three summer- months. There were new acquaintances and friends. It was good for him, he sometimes even forgot about his grief ...he came into his senses and felt sad only a farewell bonfire party. "Summer has passed. Autumn has come, in the fields and groves, quiet and sad. " - He remembered a song that they sang with his mother.

A few months Volodya lived on his own. He himself walked into the store after school, he cooked himself. Aunt Lisa Mordkin Often visited him. Some money left from cash aid of the institute colleagues. Neighbors of the house began to talk about guardian. A boy of eleven years old can not live alone. But suddenly, all was resolved differently.

One day in early December an unknown man came to Volodya and introduced himself as an inspector of the department of education, and said that tomorrow he have to go to the orphanage, dress warmly and advised to bring the essentials. He promised to visit him at eight o'clock.

He did not tell the truth, that he was not inspector of education, but an employee of the KGB, that Volodya will go not to the orphanage, but in special internate for children of “enemies of the people”.

All this Volodya did not know and therefore innocently asked, "Can I keep everything in the room as it is, as my mother loved ... And when I’ll come back here, everything will continue to be the same? "And a large portrait of his mother hanging over the bed can wait for his return, he thought. A man with a strange smile agreed and assured Volodya of keeping things safe.

A new milestone of Volodya Obolensky life began. He was the twelve years old.

Рубрика: Prince Vladimir - History of Life | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: DEATH OF MOTHER

Автор: admin, 11 Ноя 2012

There was the hottest August 1944. The war was coming to an end. Rare newspapers which we could get in the village reported victories of the Red Army. Our German-occupied towns and villages had already been released. Military action removed from Russia to Eastern Europe, a short time left till fall of Berlin. Meanwhile, severe battles continued. In Proshkino, life has not changed. Only the elderly more often talked about victory, about Germans, which soon will be revenged by Lord!

Zinochka, visiting the district town, heard that the flow of evacuated refugees started coming back to their homes. But it was allowed for them to leave only with special identification cards – some sort of permission or invitation to join the family that must be sent by survived relatives, husbands- former soldiers, survivors of war invalids. To get such badge to Moscow have been unthinkable. Ride the same without the badge was considered madness. Authority could just push out from the train and even arrest.

But Zinochka understood that if, they will not make this feat at any cost, they will stay here forever. And then the road to normal life, to education will be closed to her son. He will become a slave of Soviet power. He would not have a passport. This Jesuit fascist system invented by Communists since Stalin's collectivization, prohibited to issue passports to persons living in rural areas, in collective farms. Thus without passports adults and their children remain forever state slaves and did not have the right to go anywhere. Their work was, in fact, free, because instead of salary they received “labour days” – some point volume written in the book which depends on future harvest. Actually it means nothing. Rural people could not rely on salary and pension. State exploited them mercilessly.

The practice of calculation on “labour days” was a mockery. If collective farm fulfilled the state-plan that it was extremely rare, collective farmers got pathetic miserable remnants of, for example, 20-30 grams of flour per ‘labourday’. If collective farm couldn't pass the underlying rule of state- plan, the peasants remained with zero. And live as you want, and work from morning to night! That is why all rushed in the city. But without a passport it’s impossible!

And beyond that serfdom for peasants was much safer. The Squire at least paid and fed them for a job and not destroyed their peasant farms, since the Squire if he isn't fool or madman, interested in good farming peasants, or else he himself will perish.

They needed to make a decision. Zinocka explained everything to her son: on what risk they go, how hard will be on the road to Moscow, and how long it will take was unknown. Volodya, precocious and premature frail boy, agreed. And they began to prepare for departure. They cooked rye tortillas from the remaining rye flour. Salt, boiled potatoes, cucumbers were added. All the provisions were laid down in the bag, using rope tied it to the back. In the cotton blanket rolled felt boots (valenki), Volodya’s sheepskin coat – the gift of old Nikon, mother’s coat, gloves. The villagers gathered some money for them, as much as one could.

Day of departure came-August 27, 1944. The entire village came out to say a farewell. Mother bowed to society and thanked them for shelter, for bread and salt. The village loved Zinocka for kindness, selflessness. She healed the children, and elderly people, helped always as she could. For everyone, she reserved a kind word. There was a silence for a moment. Then old Efrosinya Ivanovna wept, lamenting, then crossed Zinocka with Volodya. Mother cried and embraced her. Old Nikon, standing close to the cart-horse, was waiting for them in silence. Here they boarded in cart, and the horse went forward... After passing the ravine and the field they entered the forest ... and the village of Proshkino, as if suddenly shrank and seemed to Volodya smaller and smaller at the distance, and houses looked like the toys, but were still visible ... because stood on the low hill.

The forest stretched for many miles ahead and kept a lot of sounds and smells. It had been raining. Drops of rain sparkled on the pines and spruce trees, glittering on the sunlight and played with all the colors of the rainbow. Robin twittered, somewhere in the thicket a wood-grouse took wing. Evening was approaching. They got to the station at the sunset. Mother bought tickets to Chelyabinsk. Old Nikon embraced Volodya and pulled from inside his shirt a big apple and a cane-whistle. Volodya hugged an old man. Then they kept silence ... Nikon crossed them and helped them to ascend in the railway carriage. Steam locomotive train whistled, twitched... and has gathered the speed. Volodya looked out from the window giving a wave ... Grandfather Nikon wiped his eyes by the sleeve and was going after the moving train ... Finally, he stopped ... The station became floating away and disappeared during the turn. They began their long journey home, to Moscow.

To Chelyabinsk they arrived without adventures. But suddenly they stuck in Chelyabinsk. Here it was impossible to take any train without badge-invitation. There were almost no passenger trains. There went only freight-trains and military echelons with equipment and manpower. New replenishments sent forward to the front, and back - wounded and demobilized soldiers. Zinochka went to the station chief, pleaded and begged him to help ... It was useless. For three days as they were sleeping at the station ... When the railway police verification checked the passengers they had to hide. Food was nearly over. On the fourth day, they woke up in the night by police patrol.

Volodya slept on the railway station bench, curling up, slumbering mother sitting. Volodya remembered the red fat face of the Sergeant in raspberry-colour service cap, a good overcoat, with holster on his side. Mother justified before him, and he looked over her passport and something shouted, particularly remembered the words: "Not supposed to! Free the room! " - His mother cried. Volodya began to comfort her. "Well, we spend the night on the street?" — desperately cried his mother. Suddenly there came a Lieutenant, together with two soldiers. He stands up for them. Volodya remembered his face. Pale, almost white as snow ... and a huge scar across his left cheek. He yelled at the Sergeant.

Then they were left alone. Lieutenant talked to his mother and promised to help her to set her in their troop train. The troops were driving from hospital demobilized, decommissioned totally. Lieutenant lived in Orel. "You see, the world is not without good people!" said the mother and spent one more night at the station. At six in the morning, with the help of Lieutenant, they have gone further.

They were travelling almost two days more, the train often stood with long intervals. Ural left behind. Finally, they got to the big hub station ... From here the path becomes particularly difficult, massive tests began. Military patrol pushed them off the train. Lieutenant sad smiled and took out from his backpack cans of stewed meat and dried bread, giving it to Volodya.

They remember this station very good. Spending more than three days there and not being able to get even at freight- train, Zinochka decided to reach the nearest large village, where they had hoped to ride out and help his son. Volodya suddenly fell ill. First it was cold. Then high fever, cough. Mother listened his breast and realized it was pneumonia. From first aid kits in Proshkino she captured the red streptocid, aspirin and iodine. She had nothing more, and indeed such medicines were considered a great luxury.

On a small truck, they got to large village Petrishchevo. Here was a collective farm named by Stalin. Zinochka found the Chairman of the farm and the proposed to open rural hospital or dispensary, Chairman Stepan was a smart guy, without the left leg. He walked on a wooden leg and wore the Order of Glory. Zinochka was quartered in a good house which hostess was a woman-soldier, Anna Kuzminichna, the book-keeper of a collective farm now. Her husband fought on the war and son, fifteen years old Pashka, helped at the household. Zinochka liked the house, and the hostess was good-natured. They were given a corner room with windows looked out on the garden.

Volodya’s disease became worse. Mother took care of him days and nights. The crisis has passed, the boy felt better. In the village, they opened a dispensary. The Chairman gave to Zinochka 8 kg of rye flour, two sacks of potatoes and authorized to issue the collective farm’s half-liter of milk per week until her son is sick. Mother’s work was recorded in “labour days”.

It was late autumn, November. It was long period of heavy rains. Impassability of roads, bare forest. Volodya was feeling ill. He lost weight, his face pale and was tormented by cough at night. Anna Kuzminichna long sighed, looking at him, then went to a relative at a beehive and brought small pots of honey and internal fat. Volodya was rubbed before bedtime with this fat and she gave him drink fat and honey.

December came. Zinochka decided to spent winter with his son here in Petrishevo. There was a lot of work in the clinic, they brought patients from neighbouring villages. They opened a rural hospital at fifteen beds. Medical staff consisted of Zinochka and three old nurses, all worked for "labour days" hoping for a good harvest. Winter of a new year 1945 was snowy.

Volodya became friends with Pashka. He was good-natured hard working clumsy guy. Messed around a kitchen garden, often at the request of the Chairman went to work in the field and at the collective farm. Anna Kuzminichna had different cattle: steer, heifer, three chicken, one cock, two ducks, cat and dog. This was considered a good privately owned farm. Heifer is growing and will soon be a cow. They often listened to a radio. Soviet troops moved to Berlin, soon victory was expected.

At the New Year eve they gathered all together. Anna Kuzminichna, Pashka and Zinochka with Volodya cut down the fir-tree. Volodya made Christmas tree ornaments, toys and small flags using multi-coloured paper and old magazines. The can of stewed meat was on the table, boiled potato, salted cucumbers, brined apples and home-vine. Nobody could see such a delicious food for a long time.

Spring came early. In March, brooks ran on village streets. Sun shone brighter and warmer. Forest still was standing in deep snow ... but in April began snow melting. "April, April rings with falling drops ..." — remembered Volodya the song, when he saw the icicles in the yard. He was asking his mother, is it not time for them to come home to Moscow. Mother answered joking –“ We have enough time, Moscow won’t run from us”.

April cried and cried with last year's snow ... And then May came into rights. Buds swelled and burst, the first leaves appeared, and grass here and there grew greener. The rooks have arrived first and walked on ploughed fields looking for worms. The starlings had been expected next to come. Pashka helped Volodya to make a birdhouse, and they fixed it on a large Birch tree in the garden.

Anna Kuzminichna tried to convince Zinocka not to leave until August. They will yield the harvest and something shall be given for their "labour-days." The mother did not consent and would like to go at the end of May. Then Anna Kuzminichna suggested that she should leave Volodya there. Through the summer he should become stronger, the cow will give milk ... and then mother will come back for him. Volodya heard this conversation through a thin bulkhead and loudly cried, and rushed into the room to the mother: "Don't leave me here", he was gulping with sobs bitterly. Mother gave him a hug, and they together with Anna Kuzminichna began to comfort and assure that Mommy never separate with him.

And here again the new start on the way home. Zinochka has waited when they sent paramedic from the district town. Bid farewell to the Chairman Ivan Stepanovich. She collected by common efforts food for the road, potatoes, bread, pickles, some amount of millet cereals. On the 8th of May Volodya, feeling happy, asleep. And in the morning the radio announced the end of the war. All people in the village went mad from this news first and first were silent. And all of a sudden joy, screams, congratulations, tears — all had become to them together. On May 9, 1945, all long-suffering bleeding Russia and darkened with grief celebrated victory day on its ashes.

At the 10th of May Zinochka with her son were brought on the truck to the city station, and they safely boarded the train. It was no more check patrol until Moscow. In Moscow, their passports with former stamp of Moscow registration saved the situation. They were on their land, the sacred land of their ancestors. From the square of the three railway-stations — Kazan, Yaroslavl and Leningrad —they walked up to the Sretenka street.

Moscow seemed to Volodya amazingly beautiful. That's a big Sukharevsky lane, building #18, Zinochka’s heart fell, she was afraid to see bomb-pitted the backbone of the home ... But, thank God! The house turned out to be safe. With sinking hearts, they climbed the staircase to the third floor and… mother opened the door with her own key...

The apartment was empty. In their big room stood only old oil-cloth sofa with protruding springs, two Vienna chairs and iron furnace-stove with a chimney in the pane. Zinochka fell on his knees and wept. Then she began to pray and give thanks to God and looked at the place in the corner where earlier icon hung.

It was 12 of May, 1945. Volodya remembered this day forever.

Рубрика: Prince Vladimir - History of Life | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: A LONG RETURN TO MOSCOW, Cornet Obolensky come back, historical novel, Russian prose, Vladimir Obolensky

Автор: admin, 11 Ноя 2012

From his early childhood, Volodya remembered only separated events. It is the village of Proshkino. It was a small village, twenty houses only. No men left in here, but the old men and the children. The neighbor village Serednyaki (middle-class peasants) was bigger, in the distance of three kilometers.

Zinochka Obolensky found a shelter in the countryside not by chance, but in order to be far away from the authorities and KGB. She did not trust them, for understandable reasons, she felt disgust and fear to the murderer of her husband.

She felt intuitively that her husband was killed, in a dream she often saw him bleeding, bear footed ... on the snow. Nikolay stretched to her his hands and said: "they killed me! Zinochka ... Killed me!" Zinaida Nikolaevna woke up in a cold sweat and cried ...

Both in Proshkino and in Serednyaki, people hated Soviet power, it was the place where former "kulaks" together with their families were exiled. Of course, they were not “kulaks” (which means “rich farmers who exploited other people”) but ordinary peasant or middle-income peasants having just two horses and two cows ... The main earning here was hunting. They gave the fur to the collective farm which name was “The 1 of May".

The peasants grazed the cattle, but there was nobody who could work, the elderly, women and children were left to survive here — the entire workforce. Soviets forced peasants to pay strangle taxes, ostensibly for the front, while the people knew how much money left in the breadbasket of the local authorities. The host of the house where Zinochka settled with her son was the old Nikon, he lived together with his daughter -in-law Daria - the wife of his son.

His son went to the front, and the old woman – his wife died just before the war. Daughter-in-law had no children, God did not give her yet. And the old man liked Volodya like a grandson.

They lived half-starving. They ate everything from pressed herbs (food for cattle) to potato peelings. Zinaida Nikolaevna was the only doctor in the entire district.

It was decided to open a clinic. The director of the collective farm “Lenin’s way” invited her to move in their village in ten kilometers from Proshkino, but Zinochka insisted in opening the dispensary at Proshkino. They had to agree with her. The sick people from the distant and nearby villages by and by came to the doctor.

In the winter, when the roads were covered with snow and blizzard raged for many days, they were sitting at home, heating the oven and enjoyed the warmth from the fire. One day, on Christmas Eve, a pregnant woman was brought from the village of Prokhorovo. Young woman was already without memory ... Hospital was opened in plain peasantry old house (former soviet authority house). There were almost no conditions at all: stove, table, three iron beds, first aid kit.

Zinaida Nikolaevna brought with her from Moscow some surgical tools. Still medicine was not enough. Nevertheless, she decided on surgery to save the woman and the child. Old lady Efrosinya Ivanovna, nurse in the infirmary, carefully washed and boiled the instruments, covered the table with plain sheets. The case turned out to be hard, child’s heartbeat had not been heard. Needed a caesarean operation.

The operation began at 10 am and ended at noon. The child cried finally. "Thank God!" She sighed. A girl was born. — The mother smiled. No wonder, she was very weak and pale. She stayed in Proshkino under the supervision of a physician.

The old man who brought her on a sleigh came back in a week. First night Zinaida Nikolaevna and nurse Efrosinya stayed in the dispensary. A woman could not be left unattended. Volodya asked his mother to allow him to sleep with them. The days passed, a young mother recovered. A girl was given the name of Katya.

Vladimir learned what it is the famine since the start of the war feeling an empty stomach tormented him almost constantly. In the spring, they planted potatoes and other vegetables so as not to die from hunger.

Volodya remembered the most severe first winter in evacuation. The next year was easier. Garden gave a good harvest of vegetables. Sometimes peasants brought in gratitude a little amount of food to a doctor. Mother didn't like to take anything, but she took it sometimes reluctantly, only because of Volodya. The boy grew thin and weak. It seems to them that the news of the war did not reach them. There were no electricity nor radio, newspapers had been delivered only in summer, due to the bad roads.

The village people seemed to stay still in expectation of great events there, far, far away, in a distance where there was a terrible war. The boys help their mothers with domestic chores and tending to their livestock, or rather, its miserable remains.

Elderly people talked in the summer evenings sitting on benches and smoking tobacco. Indeed tobacco became rubbish in these days. Villagers waked up...at dawn by the roosters …mowed hay and gathered mushrooms and berries for winter stock.

Authority couldn’t make the peasantry work in fields for free because no one left in the village - all men had gone to the front.

Volodya remembered only several bright scenes from his childhood in evacuation ... Here is one of them. Winter evening, he and mother were sitting in the sleigh, coming back from the district center, where they went to the bazaar to buy rye flour. The mother took her last gold ring with emeralds. She exchanged the emerald ring for 5 kg of rye flour.

Volodya pleaded his mother to take him with her in a trip. When they had almost reached home and village appeared on the hillock, they were chased by wolves. The horse was scared and run. The horses run out from the forest to the open field, nearly 500 meters separated them from the village. Mother cried: "hold on" ... and then everything went round and spun…Heaven and Earth ... Volodya saw the leader of the pack. The distance between them was already 200 meters.

Yellow wolf eyes shone. Couples came from his mouth. It seemed to them the wolf was about to catch them up and then… the end. Horse wheezed. They passed the ravine, and wolves were left behind. The horse run in the village like wind. It was difficult to stop the horse.

Volodya finally couldn't resist and fell out of the sled. Mother fled to him, fearing that he crashed. Shining stars appeared on the black-violet sky. Volodya got out of a snow-drift and was unhurt and safe.

He remembered also another scene, indistinctly as in the fog. Winter night, and someone is trying to open the door. They say it is a thief. Shutters shut. Old Nikon stayed at the door with an axe, and the mother of Vladimir behind the stove ...embraces him. Somebody battered at the door. Daughter-in-law Daria scared in her nightshirt with tongs for the furnace in her hand shouts out something loud. Finally, it turns out that this is one-armed Vaska Minayev who was lost being drunk.

He recently came back from the front and was very unhappy that he lost his hand. They opened the door, scold him, then incited a samovar together and gave him a cup of tea to warm, and soon he sleeps snoring near window, covered with the coat.

The strongest and heaviest recollection — coming back home in Moscow, without official documents.

Рубрика: Prince Vladimir - History of Life | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: Cornet Obolensky, historical prose, Russian prose, Vladimir Obolensky, writer

Автор: admin, 08 Окт 2012

 

Бал в Дортмунде 2005

 

21 октября 2005 года состоялся первый Русский княжеский бал в Дортмунде (Германия). Мне была предоставлена честь открыть этот бал, что называется быть патроном оного. На фото - моя приветственная речь на этом балу.

 

Программа бала была достаточно обширной, в том числе концерт немецкого симфонического оркестра под управлением главного дирижера Аркадия Берина, сольных выступлений музыкантов, русского классического балета, грандиозного банкета.

Присутствовало много прессы: зарубежной и российской, где я дал несколько интервью. Среди спонсоров бала было 28 крупных западных кампаний: сеть отелей HILTON, Водка SMIRNOFF, RUSAVIA, казино Hohensyburg, автоконцерн "Jaguar", дом моделей "SWING", ювелирная галерея "Gruttmann",  Генеральный консул России в Бонне являлся одним из основных спонсоров и поддержкой дипломатической службы России для гостей, приглашенных на бал.

 

 

 

В программе бала - множество замечательных выступлений. Своим искусством порадовали прославленные солисты Джон Келли (солист легендарной группы "Kelly Family"), ученица Хосе Карераса испанская певица Маите Итоиц (сопрано), русский бас Анатолий Сафиулин, итальянский тенор Клаудио Версаче. Одним из гвоздей программы  стало выступление Русского национального балета под управлением Сергея Радченко. Этот коллектив специально прибыл в Германию, чтобы принять участие в первом Русском Княжеском бале.

 

 

 

В программе много других любопытнейших мероприятий: демострация моды и ювелирных коллекций, показ эксклюзивных мехов, фуршет и праздничное меню из трёх блюд, даже автомобильные премьеры концерна "Jaguar"- и конечно же, все из разряда люкс!

В развлекательной программе Дортмундского бала разыгрывалась также лотерея, в которой наряду с другими призами разыгрывалась и моя книга - исторический роман "Возвращение корнета Оболенского". Еще один экземпляр моей книги был передан в дар мэрии города Дортмунда.

На великолепном празднике, который происходил в огромном концертном зале Дортмундского казино, - присутствовало и руководство мэрии города Дортмунда. Среди почетных членов - урожденная княжна Оболенская и праправнучка А.С.Пушкина Клотильда фон Ринтелен, урожденная графиня фон Меренберг, президент Международного ассоциации российских соотечественников граф Пётр Шереметьев, а также Татьяна Михайлова баронесса фон Опель.

Среди почетных гостей генеральный консул Российской Федерации в Бонне Георгий Геродес, обербургомистр Дортмунда др.Герхард Лангемаер, президент Западно-европейской академии естественных наук, культуры и искусства проф. Софи Тахалова, художник и философ др. Давид Явед Варед, вице-президент Германской ассоциации российских соотечественников проф. др. Михаил Баскин. На бал приглашены Посол России в Германии Владимир Котенёв, Министр культуры Германии др. Кристине Вайс, Пауль Шпигель, другие известные представители политических и деловых кругов, популярные актёры, деятели культуры (директор цирка "Roncalli" Бернард Пауль), музыканты (выдающийся скрипач Виктор Третьяков), певцы (украинская певица Руслана, немецкая попзвезда Индира (группа "Brothers"), спортсмены (Аксель Шульц).

 

 

 Праздничное меню бала:

Карпаччо из масляной рыбой и маринованной икрой

***

Лучшее из утки

с  инжиром  и сливой в глазури

***

Савойская капуста в соусе из черной смородины а-ля крем

картофель

***

Марципан с запеченными яблоками и с ванильным муссом

 

Организация и подготовка бала освещалась в Интернете.

Вот что писали об этом в СМИ Германии, смотрите по ссылке http://events.germany.ru/1005616325/german

Рубрика: История | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: Первый русский княжеский бал в Дортмунде

Автор: admin, 08 Окт 2012

С середины 1990х годов по 2007 год я участвовал и давал интервью в авторской программе Натальи Бехтиной под названием  Ток-шоу «От первого лица» по самым разным темам: политика, история, литература, театр, социальные проблемы и многое другое. Собеседниками Натальи Бехтиной были самые разнообразные личности -  политики, государственные и общественные деятели, журналисты, писатели и парламентарии. Эта передача пользовалась и пользуется большим интересом у народа. Она освящала национальную, культурную и политическую жизнь страны. Теперь все эти передачи хранятся в архиве «Радио России». Предоставляю вам возможность познакомиться с электронной версией одной из передач с моим участием: http://www.radiorus.ru/news.html?id=165688

Рубрика: СМИ обо мне | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: Владимир Оболенский на Радио России, история, книга "Корнет Оболенский", литература, программа Натальи Бехтиной "От первого лица", СМИ обо мне, театр

Автор: admin, 07 Окт 2012

Рубрика: Моя фотогалерея | Ваш отзыв »
Метки: Испания, отпуск, Пальма де Майорка, путешествия, туризм, фотоотчет Владимира Оболенского