Irina Antonova
Irina Antonova, doctor of art history, scientist, for several decades headed the State Museum of Fine Arts. Pushkin, and then took the honorary post of president. She was the daughter of a revolutionary, worked as a nurse during World War II, was the legendary director of the Pushkin Museum, politicians and presidents were friends with her, and every exhibition she organized became an event. For many countries it was an honor to exhibit in the halls of Irina Alexandrovna's museum, she first brought to Moscow the works of Pablo Picasso, “Mona Lisa”, organized the festival “December Evenings of Svyatoslav Richter”, which has been held annually since 1981. Her whole life was devoted to the museum and art.
“Memories. The Trajectory of Fate” is a book by Irina Antonova, which was published by the AST publishing house this spring. In it, she shared stories from her professional or personal life, for example, she recalls how she first came to the museum, talks about her parents, her attitude to religion and much, much more. Read the excerpt how Irina Aleksandrovna brought the Mona Lisa to Moscow in 1974 – how the employees were looking for the necessary glass (after all, this was not produced in Russia) and what happened to the audience in the hall.
“Well, what another” La Gioconda “! You can imagine how much it will cost. Crazy money. Where does the state have it? ..” – I think that's how I was thinking at that time. And in 1974, information flashed in the press that “La Gioconda” was exhibited in Japan. And then I realized that the picture must have flown through Moscow. How else to Japan? Not through America. And so it turned out. And I thought that, most likely, it would fly back through us. And if this is so, then is it possible for her to make a transplant in Moscow? With a short stay on our Russian soil. And as soon as this sensible thought occurred to me, I, without hesitation and without wasting time, went to Furtseva and told her: “Ekaterina Alekseevna, the great work“ Mona Lisa ”is shown in Japan. And I will return back through Moscow. What if you stop her so that she can visit our museum for a while, eh? Do such a miracle. You can do everything, “I flattered her openly.
But in fact, I treated Furtseva with great respect. Because it was for what. Not the worst Minister of Culture in my long life. She was a man of action. Whether the comrade minister understood literature, I do not presume to judge, but in the plastic arts, like many, I had little sense, to confess. But she believed in me and generally respected the opinion of professionals. She loved to do something interesting, significant, to solve a difficult problem, so much so that it turned out to be great. I told her who this Leonardo da Vinci was, about his masterpiece “La Gioconda” and what a success and her personal triumph it would be if we could exhibit the painting in Moscow. “You can't even imagine, Ekaterina Alekseevna, what kind of resonance this can have,” I concluded. She listened and said, “I'll try.” But to be completely honest with the story, she put it this way: “The French ambassador is in love with me. I will talk to him, maybe in the name of love he will come to an agreement with his own.” Furtseva kept her word. I went to the “in love” French ambassador and talked. And he, apparently, did not refuse the beautiful lady – he also talked with whomever was required. And everything worked out. A month later, Ekaterina Alekseevna called and said: “Irina Aleksandrovna, everything worked out. You will have your” La Gioconda “. But the French set a condition that the showcase for the exposition should consist of five layers of glass. They also discussed climatic conditions – humidity, lighting, temperature. And the level of security, of course. Incredible, difficult conditions. We agreed to everything. But the required glass was not produced in Russia. Only in Ukraine. We ordered it. Ekaterina Alekseevna ordered through Khrushchev.
And then they brought a picture. “La Gioconda” is here! The glass also came, albeit with a delay. And the showcase was delivered. It's already ten in the evening. Finally the picture is taken out of the box … And when they began to insert it into the glass, it suddenly burst. I do not know why. Maybe the frame was just mowing.
There were me, the chief curator of the museum, Andrei Isaevich Guber, and the head of the art department of the Ministry of Culture, Alexander Georgievich Khalturin. A very important figure in the bureaucratic hierarchy. And the three of us watch the glass burst instantly. And we ordered five such glasses, just in case. We ask employees to insert a new one. They began to put the second. Burst. Third. It also burst. Everyone grabbed their heads. They realized that something was happening to the frame, apparently. Engineers are running around, figuring out where the problem is. And Alexander Georgievich says to me (I will never forget this – so loudly and clearly): “Irina Alexandrovna, my heart cannot stand it, I went.” I answered: “Go, Alexander Georgievich. We are staying.” In a word, the engineers did it. The fourth glass slid neatly into place.
The room next to the one in which the painting was supposed to be exhibited was completely vacated for protection. They were soldiers armed with guns. To kill anyone who gets too close. I'm kidding, of course. But then there was no time for jokes. There is “La Gioconda”. And if anything, our armed guards will rush into the hall in an instant. And once I had to …
A roundabout was provided for the inspection. The spectators entered, stood for some time in front of the canvas, until they were propped up from behind by other suffering people, and, backing away and not taking their eyes off the “La Gioconda”, went out with their backs through the other door.
And so it went – as written – all six weeks. And suddenly, at some point, a terrible siren signal sounded. Something happened. I was at work and, like everyone else, rushed into the hall. Imagine – some woman, out of her overwhelming feelings, somehow carried a bouquet of flowers and threw “Gioconda” under her feet. Naturally, the alarm went off. Our soldiers immediately flew out and, with rifles at the ready, stood in front of the painting in a guard of honor. An incredible sight! There is excitement and commotion in the public. What happened? But nothing. The painting is in place. The alarm reacted to the thrown bouquet.
That woman is hysterical. She was detained. Maybe she did it on purpose? Provocation? International scandal? They looked at her and immediately realized that she was just a teteha, she did it “from feelings”, overwhelmed with delight that she saw “Mona Lisa”! Say what you like, and the truth is a masterpiece. I understood everything. She was just afraid that they would start scaring her, interrogating her … But nothing happened. The guards looked at her sternly, probed her and, as they say, let her go in peace. Even they could see that she was no intruder.
In a word, our guards coped with it in difficult times. They were around the clock near the “La Gioconda”, rested in shifts in the adjacent empty hall: someone was asleep, someone was watching. And everything went fine. All six weeks starting June 17th. And then we all said goodbye to her in the museum. There is a photograph of us standing on the colonnade, a box with a picture, the wind … My hair is fluttering, and so is the director of the Louvre. We say some parting words to each other. And “La Gioconda” left us. But I took her straight to the plane. As I met her at the gangway, I saw her off. But not only “Mona Lisa” I met at the gangway. There were other masterpieces as well. And often the meeting place depended on who accompanied the exhibition from that side.
Here's a story with “La Gioconda”. I passionately wanted to be seen in our country. And in general, as soon as I found out that an interesting exhibition was held somewhere abroad, I immediately lit up: I want it to be here too. And more often there was a feeling that the museum lacks what it wants to show.
We have always strived to show iconic works. Titian and Caravaggio were often exhibited. There were a number of first-class exhibitions of antique art from various museums around the world. It is also interesting to show the treasures of a particular museum. For example, the Metropolitan Museum. The exhibition “100 Paintings from the Metropolitan Museum” was amazing in terms of the quality and level of the items presented.
Or the recent one, Masterpieces of Paintings and Prints of the Edo Period, dedicated to Japanese art. A wonderful exhibition, but the trouble is that paintings on silk paper are very fragile and require careful handling. We exhibited them for a month, and then, in the second echelon, showed another part. Because a month is terribly short, not everyone will be able to see; so we use special techniques. This, of course, was not the first exhibition of Japanese art in our museum.
