Vadim Gaevs biography

I really liked the idea of ​​your magazine - ideas. But what happened in the 20th century ... Great ideas died. In millions of people. After all, the XX century is so terrible that youth condemn the wars to death. Not old people who have to go, but young, who died in the fields. It is scary and difficult to imagine what our country has lost, having lost several generations of youth: during the civil war, during the world.

This plague went through the young - they are the most defenseless. My father went to fight, but was shell -shocked and immediately returned. But my aunt's husband was less fortunate: he also fought and, among the four of my uncles, he was killed in no way. He was an old Rostov communist, Chairman of Glavfoto, who was close to the drug addict in rank. I knew about the house of the Central Committee, because my friend Yurka Sukhanov lived in one of them.

Yurka's father was Malenkov’s personal secretary, it was in his office that Lieutenant Colonel MGB Ryumin wrote a letter to the leader, after which the terrible “case of doctors” began. So, in the Government House, not nominees lived, but those who made a revolution and even helped Stalin. I met their children and still good, by names, I remember these guys. How good they were!

How great this new generation was! All of them disappeared, disappeared before my eyes. With the older generation, I was familiar with the school of the General Moskovo gymnasium in Starokonyunny Lane. The school was wonderful! There were taught by her graduates who spoke Staromoskovsky. Before the war, I managed to finish five classes. In the fifth grade, instructions came out so that tenth graders take patronage over us.

These were not the Komsomol members of the 10ths, but completely different people. They wore jackets with ties, dressed well and purely. These guys felt like men, and when Molotov heard the speech on June 22, everyone ran to the military enlistment offices. The record of volunteers in the Red Army in the Oktyabrsky district military enlistment office of Moscow. For Stalin? Fig with two!

They defended our Moscow, the country, they defended their women! The girls have already appeared. They felt like heroes. Absolutely Tsvetaevskoye was a generation. In front of them - how not to go? Moreover, everyone thought: back in a month. Almost no one returned. Their act was romantic, heroic. These were people this dead generation. What would our country become if they survived?

We lived then in a country where there were almost no temptations. The prewar years are very poor. The plan of the five -year plan failed again. I remember my children's tears at the sight of the poor. They came to us - young women with children, and we gave them everything we could. Later from my brother, I found out that she baptized me secretly from my parents. But what is strange: it was the nanny for life turned me away from the church.

She took me to the temple near our house. Only funeral services were allowed then. I remembered them for a lifetime, because small children were buried there. At that time, children's mortality was extremely high. Since then, the smell of incense causes me a terrible idea that I will die soon and that the funeral service will affect me too. This fear has stayed with me for life, although I seem to be no longer a five -year -old boy.

The temple is a place where the children die, this is the impression that I have left. I am not a church, but sometimes I feel: something is present there. I feel it even in my life. At the same time, he went to the theater and considered himself a theater. After graduation from school, one of my classmates, Nikita, asked me to go to GITIS with him for consultations before the exams. The word sounded so interesting.

Then we knew another word - “gitics”, such a solitaire. The consultation was held in the yard, it was held by the legendary Rosa Yakovlevna, deputy dean. Around her sat girls - one more beautiful than the other. I thought: “This is yes! As my classmate said: "Abstract womanizer Dimka Gaevsky." Yes, it's me. Among those girls, I met Natasha Lozinskaya with Valya Lebedeva, who fascinated me.

Seeing them, he immediately thought: “Only here. At school, I was able to instantly solve problems and solved them for the whole class. For this, it happened, they gave me a double portion of bagels-yes! Then they showed me to some academician, and he said: “You are not mistaken, young man. This is not talent, it is such a Jewish quality. You have abilities, but they quickly run out.

You have no talent. Talent is the ability to create something yourself. ” Indeed, I just knew sets of possible solutions. As the academician predicted, quite quickly I lost this ability. In addition, at the physical education, I saw my future: bearded, unshaven, poorly dressed graduate students. I was the only one who knew nothing about this institute. But at the same time, the only one who knew what theatrical criticism was.

She carried me back at school. The first review in my life I read, it seems, in the eighth grade and was completely amazed at this type of thinking and the type of writing. I did not know about the existence of the only theater magazine then and read reviews in the newspapers. I was surprised that in the Soviet press it could be so beautifully written.They wrote so beautifully that even if there were many critics, it still became clear that we were talking about a beautiful business.

This beautiful, theatrical business lacked everyone who lived in our country. The idea of ​​writing beautifully carried me away from childhood. What to write about, I did not think then. In senior courses, I read to her classmates, and she even received some kind of award. And now, after many years, I read it. Without hesitation for a second, I burned this review in the basin!

Manuscripts are not burning? These good manuscripts do not burn!

The terrible burn, and thank God, great! I felt very ashamed that I used so much metaphors, fooling my teachers and guys. A lovely, unusually beautiful Armenian. Do you like the theater? The answer was struck by: “Who do you know? I listed critics in the order in which I liked them. They were not any cosmopolitans, antipatriots. And when I acted, I called them. Maybe that's why they took me.