Towards the end of your circuit in this room, you will see a lovely sketch of Rosalia, Leonid's wife, playing the piano [1], and their two daughters, Josephine and Lydia, listening to her.
Rosalia played the piano all her life [2] and their home, Boris says, was filled with music and the smell of oil paints and the sights of his father's paintings.
So the whole family was steeped in music [3, 4, 5] and art, and this comes through in different ways in all the members of the next generation, and particularly in Boris' poetry, which has very musical effects, and is also full of brilliant, highly idiosyncratic imagery.
In his memoirs Boris describes an occasion when he was a small child and he was woken from his sleep by the sound of people in the main sitting room and then music. The music was his mother playing the piano, and it roused him to such anguish that he got out of bed and struggled his way through to this room thronged with guests, weeping and asking to listen.
The family didn't only have a lot of music in its own dwellings, it also sort of mopped up what could be heard in the ether. There was a time when Leonid and the family were spending the summer in a dacha – which is a summer holiday home [6, 7, 8, 9] – usually rented accommodation, in the home of somebody else's estate.
The big house that they were staying in was surrounded by woods. Boris and Alexander liked to go out and play at Red Indians, stalking through the undergrowth. One day they got very close to the next door estate, and they could hear music coming from the house.
It was very odd because of the way somebody was playing the piano. The person would take a little run of notes and then stop and then play it again, and then try it out again with different variations and then, take another run at it and keep going. [Boris said that was the sound of somebody composing, not practicing.] The boys came home and described this to their parents. Shortly afterwards, Leonid came home after a walk and said: "I just saw the most extraordinary man. He was bounding down the road and flapping his arms like an eagle trying to take off. Who is this odd guy? I think he's in the dacha next door". And this was Scriabin [10]. The families became good friends, they knew Scriabin at the period when he wrote[what he called his Divine Poem, which is an extraordinary piece of music. It was really exciting for me to hear it in London, you know, whatever it was – some 60 years later – and think, gosh, this is what they heard in the woods, being tried out in the dacha next door.
The Pink Room
Rosalia at the Piano
Make sure your volume is on
Towards the end of the circle, you will see a very lovely intimate sketch of Rosalia, Leonid's wife, playing the piano, and their two daughters, Josephine and Lydia listening to it.
Rosalia played the piano all her life and the home, Boris says, was filled with music and the smell of oil paints and the sights of his father's paintings.
So the whole family was steeped in music and art, and this comes through in different ways in all the members of the next generation, and particularly in Boris' poetry, which is very musical and also full of brilliant, very idiosyncratic observation.
Boris in his memoirs, describes an occasion when he was a small child and he was woken from his sleep by the sound of people in the main sitting room and then music. And the music was his mother playing the piano, and it roused him to such anguish that he got out of bed and struggled his way through to this room, thronged with guests, weeping and asking to listen to the music.
The, the family was not only, um, didn't only have a lot of music in its own dwellings, it also sort of mopped up what could be heard in the ether. So, there was a, a time when Leonid and the family were spending the summer in a dacha which is a summer holiday, usually in rented accommodation in somebody else's estate.
And the big house that they were staying in was surrounded by woods and Boris and Alexander liked to play and go out through the undergrowth. And one day they got very close to the next door estate and its house, and they could hear music coming from the house. And it was very odd because somebody was playing the piano.
And they would take a little run of notes and then stop and then play it again, and then try it out again with different variations and then, take another run and keep going. And they came home and described this to their parents. And shortly afterwards, Leonid came home after a walk and said: "I just saw the most extraordinary man. He was coming down the road and he was flapping his arms like a bird. Uh, who is this odd guy? I think he's in the dacha next door". And this was Scriabin and the families became good friends, they knew Scriabin at the period when he wrote Extase, which is an extraordinary piece of music. And it was really exciting for me to hear it in London, you know, whatever it is 60 years later and think, gosh, this is what they heard being tried out in the dacha.
