Leonid met Tolstoy [1] for the first time as quite a young man of about 31. He was one of a few artists who were commissioned to make illustrations of War and Peace for the magazine in which it was [re-published with colour illustrations in 1893].
He was worried by this commission because it involved historical material which he couldn't lay his hands on: details of uniforms for the Napoleonic army, houses and furniture and the fashions of the time of the Napoleonic invasion of Russia. His fellow teachers at the School of Art in Moscow said: “why are you worrying about this? Why don't you just go and call on Tolstoy? He lives in Moscow as well as on his estate. He's probably got some stuff he can show you”. And Leonid kept saying: “no, no, I can't. No, he's much too great a person for me to bother.”
Then it came to the time of the art school's annual exhibition. Tolstoy always used to come in advance [2] of the vernissage when it was still in the process of being hung, to look at it more discreetly without the public being around. Leonid describes in his memoirs how the hall, where the pictures were being hung, was busy with the squeaking sound of nails being pulled out of wooden crates, and the smell of varnish, and the banging of nails into the walls, and voices. Suddenly there was a silence and somebody was heard to say “he's coming”. That was Tolstoy arriving at the door, dressed as always in his peasant's shirt with the leather belt around his waist. And Leonid describes his way of walking across the floor, sliding his feet along, his thumbs tucked into his belt and peering at the pictures [3, 4].
And his friends kept saying: “no, go on,” you know; “go after him. Tell him who you are.” And Leonid sort of dithering until they pushed him in front of Tolstoy and he said: “I'm sorry to bother you. I'm doing illustrations to War and Peace, and I wondered whether I could ask you for some help about the military uniforms?”. Tolstoy was very laid back and gentle and had this lovely caressing voice that Leonid describes many times, and he said: “yes, yes, of course, come and visit me next week in my house”.
So Leonid went there and was allowed into the sitting room and Tolstoy welcomed him very kindly and said: “okay then let's have a look at what you've got”. And Leonid opened up his portfolio and showed Tolstoy the preparatory drawings and to his surprise Tolstoy's whole voice changed and he started looking very carefully at the pictures and murmuring to himself, and then ran to the door of the sitting room and called up to his daughter: “Tatiana, Tatiana come quickly, come and see”. And when she came in, he said: “look, look at these pictures”. He quoted a Russian proverb: when the squirrel no longer has teeth, then they give it nuts. This is the artist I was looking for to illustrate my books, and I’ve only found him now, was the implication of what he said. It was an extraordinary moment, the most unforgettable moment of his life, Leonid says.
Subsequently, Leonid spent many, many, weekends at the Tolstoy estate in Yasnaya Polyana when he was working on the illustrations for Tolstoy's last novel, Resurrection [first published in magazine instalments, 1898-9] [and his late short stories. [5]
The families became close friends. To the extent that when Tolstoy had his final rupture with his wife and his home and went out into the storm, like King Lear [6] (except that he had a self-inflicted banishment - he banished himself from his home)… He strode out and nobody knew where he had gone. They discovered him when he was lying sick in a railway station at a little halt called Ostapovo where he died in his flight from home. It's a sign of the closeness of the two families that Tolstoy's widow asked Leonid to go and draw him on his deathbed in the railway station. We have a photograph [7] of the picture that Leonard drew, which is being hung by his son, Alexander, at the annual exhibition in the art school.
In his memoirs, Leonid says: “everybody keeps asking me to write down my memories of Tolstoy, but my memories of Tolstoy are my drawings of him”.
The Staircase and Hallway
Leonid and Tolstoy
Make sure your volume is on
Leonid met Tolstoy for the first time as quite a young man of about 31. He was one of a few artists who was commissioned to make illustrations of War and Peace for the magazine in which it was published all the way through.
And he was very worried by this commission because it involved historical material which he couldn't lay his hands on: details of uniforms for the Napoleonic army, houses and furniture and the fashions of the time of the Napoleonic invasion of Russia. And his fellow teachers at the School of Art in Moscow said, you know: “why are you worrying about this? Why don't you just go and call on Tolstoy? He lives in Moscow as well as on his estate. He's probably got some stuff he can show you”. And Leonid kept saying: “no, no, I can't. No, he's much too great a person for me to bother.”
And then it came to the time of the exhibiting of the arts school's work and Tolstoy always used to come in advance of the exhibition to the vernissage when it was still just being in the process of being hung and look at it more discreetly without the public being around. And Leonid describes in his memoirs how the hall, where the pictures were being hung, was very busy with the squeaking sound of nails being pulled out of wooden crates, and the smell of varnish, and the banging of nails into the walls, and voices. And then suddenly there was a silence and somebody was heard to say “he's coming”. And that was Tolstoy arriving at the door dressed as always in his peasant's shirt and the leather belt around his waist. And Leonid describes his way of walking across the floor, sliding his feet along, his thumbs tucked into his belt and then peering at the pictures.
And his friends kept saying: “no, go on”, you know, “go after him. Tell him who you are”. And Leonid sort of dithering until they pushed him in front of Tolstoy and he said: I'm sorry to bother you. I'm doing illustrations to War and Peace, and I wondered whether I could ask you for some help about the military uniforms?”. And Tolstoy was very laid back and gentle and had this lovely caressing voice that Leonid describes many times, and he said: “yes, yes, of course”, you know, “come and visit me next week in my house”.
So Leonid went there and was allowed into the sitting room and Tolstoy welcomed him very kindly and said: “okay then let's have a look at what you've got”. And Leonid opened up his portfolio and showed Tolstoy the preparatory drawings and to his surprise Tolstoy's whole voice changed and he started looking very carefully at the pictures and murmuring to himself, and then ran to the door of the sitting room and called up to his daughter: “Tatiana, Tatiana come quickly, come and see”. And when she came in, he said: “look, look at these pictures”. He quoted a Russian proverb: when the squirrel no longer has teeth, then they give it nuts. This is the artist I was looking for to illustrate my books was the implication of what he said. It was an extraordinary moment, the most unforgettable moment of his life Leonid says.
And subsequently, Leonid spent many, many, weekends at the Tolstoy estate in Yasnaya Polyana when he was working on the illustrations for Tolstoy's Resurrection.
And the families became close friends to the extent that when Tolstoy had his final rupture with his wife and his home and went out into the storm like King Lear, except that he had a self-inflicted banishment - he banished himself from his home. He strode out and nobody knew where he had gone, and they discovered him when he was lying sick in a railway station at a little halt called Astapovo where he died in flight from his home and it's a sign of the closeness of the two families that Tolstoy's widow asked Leonid to go and draw him on his deathbed in the railway station. And we have a photograph of the picture that Leonard drew, which is being hung under his directions by his son, Alexander, at the annual exhibition in the art school.
In his memoirs, Leonid says: “everybody keeps asking me to write down my memories of Tolstoy, but my memories of Tolstoy are my drawings of him”.
