March 21, 1889
В Kyiv, was born into a lawyer's family Alexander Vertinsky — artist, composer, poet. "The Russian Pierrot" and a pop legend of the first half of the 20th century.
I live. I can live without faith,
For art alone.
And in my eyes, empty and gray,
People won't notice anything
He lost both his parents at an early age and was raised by relatives. At 15, he was expelled from high school for bad behavior and banished from home. He worked as an extra at a Kyiv theater, wrote reviews of celebrity performances, and published stories in local newspapers. He also worked as a postcard seller, a loader, and a proofreader at a printing house. He also performed in amateur performances.
At 24, he moved to Moscow, but was rejected by the Moscow Art Theatre because of his lisp. He worked part-time as a director. He was acquainted with Chagall, Malevich, Berdyaev, Blok and Severyanin.
He made his film debut playing an angel in the movie Ilya Tolstoy.
During the First World War he went to the front as a medic and was wounded.
In 1915, he made his debut on stage with the program “Pierrot’s Songs”: he read short poems and plays in the form of a melodious recitative.
After the October Revolution, he came to the attention of the Cheka for his romance “What I Must Say” (he wrote it under the impression of the death of 300 Moscow cadets; according to another version, it was about the soldiers who died near Kiev).
I do not know why and who needs it,
Who sent them to death with an unbending hand,
Only so mercilessly, so evil and unnecessary
Dropped them into Eternal Peace!
And no one thought of just kneeling
And to tell these boys that in a mediocre country
Even bright feats are only steps.
Into the endless abyss - to the inaccessible Spring!
In 1920, he emigrated. He later considered this act reckless, calling himself a "capricious, spoiled Russian actor" and a "neurasthenic." He toured Europe and the United States.
All our actors' whims and antics back home were tolerated with a gentle smile. An actor was considered a superior being, allowed to do anything. We had to unlearn this in a foreign land: the audience could behave as they pleased, sing, drink, eat, talk, or even shout.
In Paris I met with representatives Romanovs, European monarchs, Charlie Chaplin, Marlene Dietrich, Anna Pavlova, Tamara Karsavina, Ivan Mozzhukhin.
We sail across the oceans,
We furrow the continents
And we carry it to foreign countries
The Russian feeling of melancholy
Lived in since 1935 Shanghai, where he met a 20-year-old Georgian woman Lydia Tsirgvava. After the Japanese invasion of China, he lived in extreme poverty. Before each performance, he would buy a tailcoat from a pawnshop and then return it afterward.
In 1943 he returned to the USSR with his wife and daughter (before that he had been refused many times).
Emigration is a severe and grave punishment. But every punishment has its limits. Even lifelong hard labor is sometimes reduced for modest behavior and repentance.
During the Great Patriotic War he toured at the front.
In 1945, after the birth of his second daughter, he wrote one of his most famous songs, “Daughters”:
Lots of Russian sun and light
It will be in the lives of my daughters.
And most importantly, this is
That they will have a homeland!
That same year he wrote the song “He”, dedicated to Stalin.
How high he lifted the power
Leader of the Soviet friendly peoples
He toured the country to great acclaim (though he was only allowed to perform 30 of the 100 songs). However, he was unofficially banned from appearing on major capital stages or in the press.
I have nothing but a world-famous name.
He is remembered for his role as the Prince in the film "Anna on the Neck" (1954).
In 1956, he wrote to his wife about his impressions of the report. Khrushchev:
Everything is false, vile, and untrue. Khrushchev said: "Let us rise in honor of the memory of the 17 million people tortured in the camps." What the heck?! Who, when, and how will pay for the "mistakes" of all this scum?!
He died in 1957 from acute heart failure in the Leningrad Astoria Hotel, after a concert at the House of Veterans – at 68.
A year before his death he wrote to the Deputy Minister of Culture:
Somewhere up there, they're still pretending I haven't returned. They're not writing or saying a word about me. Journalists are saying, "There's no signal." There probably won't be one. And yet, I'm here! The people love me. (Forgive me for being so bold.)
