Nika golts from the cycle sworn to the muse. Nika Goltz. “Now there is everything, there is only... no limit to perfection! Illustrations by Niki Golts for fairy tales

Nika Georgievna Golts(March 10, 1925 - November 9, 2012) - Soviet and Russian artist, known primarily as a book illustrator. Honored Artist of the Russian Federation.

Life and art

Father - Georgy Pavlovich Golts, student of V. A. Favorsky, academician of architecture, theater artist and graphic artist.

In 1939-1942 Nika Georgievna studied at the Moscow Secondary Art School, in 1943-1950. - at the Moscow State Art Institute named after V. I. Surikov at the monumental department in the workshop of N. M. Chernyshev. Initially she was interested in fresco painting, but Chernyshev’s studio was closed (in 1949, along with a number of other “formalists”, he was fired from the Moscow State Art Institute), and she managed to express herself in this genre only once and later: she owns the frescoes in the building of the Natalia Children's Musical Theater Sats in Moscow, including two panels based on sketches by her father Georgy Golts.

Since 1953 she worked in book and easel graphics. Books with illustrations by Nika Golts were published by the publishing houses “Children’s Literature”, “Soviet Artist”, “Soviet Russia”, “Russian Book”, “Pravda”, “Khudozhestvennaya Literatura”, “EXMO-Press” and others. Known for her illustrations of fairy tales and fantastic works (folklore, Hoffmann, Gogol, Perrault, Andersen, Odoevsky, Antony Pogorelsky, etc.)

Exhibitions

Canada, India, Denmark (1964); Yugoslavia (1968); Biennale in Bologna (Italy, 1971); Biennale in Italy (1973); "Book-75"; Exhibition of illustrators of works by the Brothers Grimm in Berlin (1985); Denmark (Aarhus, 1990; Vejle, 1993) together with Danish artists.

Awards

Honored Artist of the Russian Federation (2000) - for services in the field of art

In 2006, Nika Georgievna Golts was awarded the Diploma of H.-K. Andersen International Children's Book Council (IBBY) for illustrations to the collection “The Big Book of Andersen's Best Fairy Tales.”

Irina KVATELADZE

“IN THE ILLUSTRATION, AS IN THE TRANSLATION, THERE ARE A LOT OF PARALLEL MOMENTS. THE TRANSLATOR, IN ESSENCE, WRITES THE BOOK AGAIN – STARTING FROM THE ORIGINAL. ALSO AN ILLUSTRATOR. THESE ARE NO LONGER JUST BOOKS WRITTEN BY SOME AUTHOR. THESE ARE BOOKS READ AND SEEN BY ME, SHOWN WITH MY EYES. THIS IS HOW I FELT THEM. THIS IS CREATION..."

NIKA GEORGIEVNA, WHEN DID YOU START DRAWING? AND WHEN DID YOU ILLUSTRAT YOUR FIRST BOOK?

– The first book was 50 years ago. And I’ve been drawing... probably since birth. I started reading early, I read a lot and with interest. And I started drawing just as early. I had a hobby - publishing my own books. I wrote some texts and drew pictures for them. After my mother’s death, in her archive, I found one such book – made of some kind of gray paper, primitively bound... There was a story about little devils who went traveling. The book had terrible mistakes, with letters written in reverse - you know, how children of 5-6 years old sometimes write letters backwards?.. But I have always drawn, as long as I can remember. Moreover, they are illustrations for their own fictional stories.

DID THE FAMILY CIRCUMSTANCE CONTRIBUTE TO THIS?

- Yes, definitely. I grew up in an artistic atmosphere. My father, Georgy Pavlovich Golts, an academician of architecture, was also a wonderful artist. He worked both in the theater and in graphics. When I needed to be “shut up” with a book, they gave me books on art. So it was absolutely impossible for me not to draw. Then I entered art school. This was probably my first independent action. My parents weren’t even in Moscow at that moment; I lived with my aunt and just went and passed the exams. To the Moscow Secondary Art School (MSHS), which is now called the Lyceum (Moscow Art Academic Lyceum at the Moscow Academic Art Institute named after Surikov - Ed.). I studied there enthusiastically before the war, and when the war began, we were sent for evacuation to Bashkiria. We worked there on a collective farm for defense purposes. It was a scary climb. Now the lyceum is hosting an exhibition of the works that were made during the evacuation.
And then my father took me, who was evacuated to Shymkent with the Academy of Architecture. I graduated from a regular high school. And upon returning to Moscow, she entered the Surikov Institute.

IT WAS A STRONG INTENTION TO ENTER THE FINE SCHOOLS?

- Yes, only in the artistic department. Well, if I didn’t get in, I decided that I would go to work at the zoo - I really loved animals. This was the alternative (smiles). But they accepted me. I studied at Surikovsky for 7 years, as I was later transferred to monumental painting. After graduating from the institute, I did not study monumental painting, but I do not regret at all that I studied in this department, with Nikolai Mikhailovich Chernyshev. He was an excellent teacher and a brilliant artist. I loved him very much. The only monumental work that I did with all my passion was painting the wall in the Musical Theater of Natalia Ilyinichna Sats, which was then under construction on the Lenin Hills. My father worked with her a lot. He died when I was 20 years old - in 1946. And Natalya Sats wanted his pantomime performance “The Little Negro and the Monkey” to be restored - this time in the form of a ballet. I designed this ballet for them and painted the wall of the theater, including two panels based on my father’s sketches. This painting still exists.

HOW DID YOU GET INTO GRAPHICS?

“We had to earn money somehow.” I started drawing postcards and doing some illustrations. Somehow I got involved, and then completely fell in love with it. Moreover, it has always been mine. And when it turned out that it was possible to illustrate not only “the first time in first grade,” but also Andersen... I had never before experienced such immense happiness as on the day when I was given several pieces of paper with the fairy tale “The Steadfast Tin Soldier”! Well, now I’m like a drug addict – I can’t live without a book.

ARE YOU STILL WORKING?

– Yes, I am still in demand as a graphic artist. Moreover, I now have much fewer “windows” between orders than before. Previously, I used such breaks in illustration - just for myself. You see, in illustration, as in translation, there are a lot of parallel moments. The translator, in essence, writes the book anew - starting from the original. Also an illustrator. These are no longer just books written by some author. These are books read and seen by me, shown through my eyes. This is how I felt them. This is co-creation...

WHAT HELPED THE MOST IN YOUR WORK?

- Education. And not only what was received at school and institute. Now, evaluating the home education that my parents gave me, I can say that it was a European education. I loved ancient myths, I loved the history of costume, I read Shakespeare from the age of 10... This did not and does not diminish Russian culture, but it complements it.

DO YOU RETURN TO BOOKS YOU HAVE ALREADY ILLUSTRATED ONCE?

BECAUSE IT'S DIFFERENT EVERY TIME?

- Not really. There may be some common point, some general image... I have now made 7 books by Andersen for the EKSMO publishing house. For this work I received a silver medal from the Academy of Arts. But for six years I lived only by this author. It also coincided that I have friends in Denmark. Unfortunately, I don’t know Danish, but they are Russian scholars. And so they practiced Russian on me when I went to visit them (smiles). After Denmark, Andersen became a little different for me, I began to see him a little differently, to understand him differently. The Andersen boom caused by his anniversary is now ending. But I could start it again. I just finished it, but again it seems to me that something is wrong, that could have been done differently...

– I also really love Hoffmann. I want to illustrate it all. I returned to The Nutcracker many times. And now I’m doing it again for the publishing house “Makhaon”. I made Little Tsakhes, but now I would return to it again and, it seems to me, I would do it better.
I turned 80 years old. Once upon a time it seemed to me that this was something completely wild, impossible... But now I work better than 40 years ago. It seems to me so (smiles)...

WHAT IS BETTER?

– Somehow more lively, more focused, more interesting. More independent, finally. Now, by and large, I don’t care about all the samples. I can afford not to look back at anyone.

WELL YES... YOU ARE AS AN EXAMPLE...

- Yes. The only thing I want is to be on time. Because, of course, I don’t have much time left. Have time to say something, express...

WHAT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING FOR YOU, THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN WORKING ON
BOOK ILLUSTRATION?

– I should not just love, but adore my author. Otherwise I can't work. While illustrating Wilde, I was in love with him. Now that I have read his biography, I like him much less (smiles). I also loved Hoffmann, I was very passionate about Vladimir Odoevsky, Alexander Pogorelsky.

And PUSHKIN? IT WOULD BE LOGICAL...

– I simply don’t risk illustrating Pushkin, because this is some kind of height that is prohibitive for me, which, perhaps, does not need illustration...

WHAT IS PUSHKIN WARMING? IF YOU STILL DARE?..

- I don't know. I never thought... He's so beautiful! But I did Gogol’s “Petersburg Tales”. And I would do it again, although it is a very difficult, very difficult thing.

AND WHAT DID YOU NOT DRAW - FROM WHAT YOU WANTED?

- “The Lives of Moore the Cat” by Hoffmann. All the time in my head, what needs to be done, I need to do it! But nothing. I just can’t accept it. It's all kind of busy work. I thought that the summer would be free, but they offered “The Nutcracker” - and I’m sorry to refuse it. They again suggested Wilde, a colored man. Interesting too.

50 YEARS AGO, WHEN THE FIRST BOOK CAME OUT, IT WAS A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT COUNTRY. THEN THE COUNTRY CHANGED. THEN MORE
IT HAS CHANGED... WHEN WAS IT HARDER AND MORE INTERESTING TO WORK?

– It’s always interesting to work, because interest depends only on yourself. It’s more difficult... I, of course, was formed in Soviet times, and then it seemed to us all that there were terrible obstacles, that political censorship permeated everything, that many things were impossible and generally dangerous. Now I understand that all these were childish pranks compared to the censorship of money that reigns now. It's much scarier. Because Soviet censorship could be bypassed, especially in a children's book. It was possible to say something in between, to somehow veil it... Now everything is much more serious. And the “guards” are harsher. I offer something, but in response they won’t buy it. And this is already like a law. Nothing can be done anymore. I don’t know whether you noticed or not, but now the same authors are published. Publishers look at each other, imitate each other, look back at each other. They want to sell at all costs - due to their catchiness, so that it is brighter, fluffier... If in Soviet times "Detgiz" printed frankly poorly - on bad paper, with poor quality, but now it is the other extreme - excellent paper, good ink, but bad taste. And it's very scary. This is dangerous especially for children, because the first book sticks in the mind like no other. I remember one of my first children's books - “Three Fat Men” with magnificent drawings by Dobuzhinsky, which I have loved all my life. Now what? Clumsy, dirty, bright... Yes, even now there are good artists working, there are many of them, but they are lost in the mass of bad taste. Sometimes I’m scared for the book, because I’ve started reading much less. Much. And the publisher is trying to make the book even cooler than the cartoon. In my deep conviction, this is not the way. Well... we can only do... try to instill a taste...

YOU SAID THAT IN A CHILDREN'S BOOK YOU COULD ALLOW
MORE FOR YOURSELF. LET WHAT?

- A little freedom. You see, what was considered formalism in an adult illustration was partly acceptable in a children's book. And this despite the fact that at that time absolutely everything that went beyond the framework of socialist realism was considered formalism. At the same time, it was completely unclear what was actually considered socialist realism. This very concept is absurd. After all, if it is socialist, then it is not realism. And if it’s realism, then it’s definitely not socialist. And yet (smiles)... And if in an adult book all the hints were read, and they could get really bad for them, then in our case, due to childishness, everything was forgiven. Therefore, many wonderful, first-class artists worked in children's books. Lebedev, Konashevich, Charushin Sr... A number of contemporaries created real works of art on poor newsprint paper.
I once argued with one commercial director. I convinced him to try to do it differently, to move away from the stereotype, because I was sure that they would buy it. You don't have to print the book with gold and glitter. But the answer I heard was the same: no, we know better. But in reality this is not so. Because both my “Snow Queen” and my “Ugly Duckling” sold instantly. They were reprinted many times, and each time the circulation quickly sold out. This suggests that people still have taste, despite the fact that publishers think otherwise. After all, all these creepy Barbies and the most disgusting Cinderellas are not ours, they are all someone else’s. I would really hate for today’s book publishers to lose the specificity of Russian illustration.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD TO DRAW SOMETHING YOU DIDN'T LIE TO?
SOUL?

– How can I tell you... There were, of course, casual, random books. But I never took what my heart wasn’t in. Not because I'm a fighter. I just can’t do it any other way, I can’t break myself. When I was offered to illustrate a story about Lenin - about some stupid clean plates, I couldn’t refuse, but I just drew three plates and that’s it.

WHAT WAS THE COMPENSATION FOR?

- Well, I did something for myself. Illustrations, landscapes...

CHILDREN OR ADULTS?

– Who knows whether fairy tales are generally for children or for adults? Andersen didn’t write for children, he read his fairy tales to the king. Is Shakespeare adult or children's literature? And Gogol? It's all so complicated, so ambiguous...

TELL US HOW YOUR CREATIVE LIFE WORKED OUT? WERE
ANY CRISES?

- They probably were. It’s difficult... In general, every book is such a small creative crisis. When I start, I feel complete despair. It seems to me that it won’t work out, that nothing will work out for me, that I won’t do it...

AND THEN? HOW IS AN ILLUSTRATION BIRTH?

– The first reading is very important. In fact, during the first reading, everything just appears. But this requires absolute concentration, which is most easily achieved in transport. At home everything is distracting, but in transport - on a trolleybus or subway - I am completely isolated from the outside world. Then you think, you think, you don’t sleep at night. Then the scribblings begin, you try to get into the size - and this is where complete despair sets in, because nothing works out. And it already seems to me that I’m no good and I need to go to the trash heap... And then suddenly with one claw you catch on to something, just one picture, and then the work has already begun. This is the happiest time. And then everything goes wrong again, everything is terrible again, and you want to do it all over again. It saves the work deadline: they call and say it’s time. But sometimes the work doesn't work out until the very end. And there were creative failures, and quite a few.

HOW DID YOU EXPERIENCE THEM?

- With disappointment. I’m still grieving that I made my favorite “Little Mermaid” so that I can’t look at it. And the most annoying thing is that I still don’t understand why. I did it with love, on the rise, but it turned out to be rubbish.

ARE FLOWERS AND LANDSCAPES IN THE BREAKS BETWEEN BOOKS?

- I like traveling very much. I spend almost all my free time and all my free money on travel. I make sketches and finish them at home. And flowers... I always drew them. This is already a rest, this is in between. It turned out to be a day, beautiful flowers bloomed, and I wanted to draw them... However, at some point I stopped arranging bouquets. I put it on and see that they are alive. And after that, cutting them is already terrible, impossible... Because when they stand in a vase, they move... It’s not that they reach for the sun, but simply change position. Someday you will pay attention to this. Look and see that they live... I have never liked the word “still life”. In German it is much more accurate - Still Leben - quiet life. Because it is not dead nature. It's a quiet life...

GOLTZ
Nika Georgievna

Honored Artist of Russia.
Born in Moscow
in 1925.
Father is a famous architect, academician of architecture.
Graduated from the Moscow State Art Institute named after
IN AND. Surikov, workshop
N.M. Chernyshova.
Into book illustration
came in 1955.
In 1956, the publishing house “Detgiz” published the first book illustrated by her, “The Steadfast Tin Soldier” by G.-H. Andersen.
Works in a bookstore
and easel graphics
in the publishing houses "Children's Literature", "Soviet Artist", "Soviet Russia", "Russian Book", "Pravda", "Fiction",
"EXMO-Press" and others.

MAIN WORK

"Fairy Tales" by O. Wilde; “Petersburg Tales” by N. Gogol; "Black Chicken, or Underground Inhabitants"
A. Pogorelsky;
"Tim Tuller, or Sold Laughter"
D. Crews;
“Tales and Stories” by V. Odoevsky;
"Fairy tales and stories"
THIS. Hoffman; “Tales” by V. Gauf; “German folk poetry of the 12th–19th centuries”; “Tales of Mother Goose” by C. Perrault; “English and Scottish Folk Tales; fairy tales
A. Sharova “Wizards Come to People”, “Cuckoo Little Prince from Our Courtyard”, “Dandelion Boy”
and three keys", "The Pea Man
and a simpleton";
"Fairy tales"
G.-H. Andersen.

EXHIBITIONS

1964 – Canada,
India, Denmark;

1968 – Yugoslavia;

1971, 1973 – Italy;

1975 – “Book-75”;

1985 – Germany. Exhibition of illustrators of the works of the Brothers Grimm in Berlin;

1990 – Denmark, Aarhus;

1993 – Denmark, Vejle together with Danish artists.

Nika Georgievna Golts
1925-2012

[email protected]

Artists undertake the hard labor of illustrators to earn money - in nine cases out of ten. Nika Golts is no exception. “I went into writing to earn money, and then it became mine,” Nika Georgievna herself said. In the Soviet Union, large state publishing houses (and there were no others!) paid very decent fees for illustrating children's books. The only thing that was required then from the illustrator was to comply with... the generally accepted style, not to show in any case the slightest dissent in the drawing, remaining everywhere, in all details, a realist (well, or at least strive for maximum similarity with nature, even if the illustrator is working on fairy tale). Ideology!..

It’s difficult for an artist’s creative imagination to run wild within such strict limits: you know in advance that they won’t let you do your own thing, they’ll ban it, they’ll reject it at the nearest artistic council, they won’t publish it. To create your own individual style in such conditions when stylistic monotony is required is a feat! But having your own style is precisely the main value of any artist (it doesn’t matter at all what technique he uses). And it’s amazing that Nika Golts had exactly the same style: her works are immediately recognizable from hundreds of others. And these unique drawings, outstanding from the general mass of illustrations, were accepted by publishing houses!

Superhuman hard work, dedication and exactingness towards the quality of her own illustrations are the main qualities that accompanied Nika Georgievna throughout her long life. She devoted every day to creativity: drawing, drawing and drawing again - from a cup of morning coffee until four or five o'clock in the afternoon. “It was a shame to waste time on lunch!” - she admitted. This is because the most valuable part of the day for an artist is the light, and with electric lighting it is not as good to work in watercolors as with natural lighting. But even at the end of the working part of the day, all thoughts remain with the characters drawn during the day: something somewhere needs to be changed, corrected, supplemented tomorrow morning...

Nika Georgievna was very self-critical (and without this self-criticism, a real artist does not grow professionally!): even after the publication of books with her illustrations, after exhibitions of her works, she often wanted to interfere with this or that drawing - to redraw it entirely, or supplement, or change some then small details (“But here everything should have been done differently!”). And this despite the fact that the drawing seems flawless to the viewer!

In this hard labor - the search for some perfect line, having created which it will be possible to retire to a well-deserved rest - my whole life has passed. The life of Nika Georgievna’s father, Georgy Pavlovich Golts, a famous Soviet architect, was devoted to the same search. But it seems to me that no truly creative person will ever be able to find this line (color, sound), calm down, be satisfied with what has been achieved, or stop. And he will always be haunted by regret: how little I have done in my entire life!..

Nika started drawing at home, under the influence of her dad. “Dad was the main and first teacher. He drew for me. I drew next to him. My dad encouraged me to draw." Georgy Pavlovich loved to work at home. Their entire small apartment of two rooms (a bedroom and a dining room-office) in a wooden one-story house with a mezzanine on Mansurovsky Lane (not preserved, house 7, apartment 1) was littered with my father’s drawings, drawings, and projects. Dad’s entire architectural team came to work on Mansurovsky Lane; Dad was visited by the famous Zholtovsky (they worked together on some projects). Little Nika was never driven away; projects were drawn and discussed in front of her. And this creative and at the same time truly working atmosphere of her parents’ home could not but affect Nika’s interests.

In addition to their high professionalism, my father’s colleagues (and my father first and foremost!) were “exceptional people, incredibly talented.” One can imagine how worthy these people were in all respects, how spiritually developed, how well-read, what level of conversations were held...

And, of course, when Nika Georgievna called her father a teacher, this did not mean that he literally stood over her and told her what and how to draw correctly. No! The very atmosphere of her parents’ home taught Nika and instilled in her a love for work. Atmosphere is the best educator! In Nika’s case, she also has excellent roots on both her father’s and mother’s sides. We can say that, having been born into this family, little Nika’s fate was naturally predetermined.

While working, dad turned on a small radio: he liked to work while listening to classical music. He himself played the cello, his sister Katya - Aunt Nika - played the piano (Katya lived in the same house in Mansurovsky in a neighboring apartment; this house was the property of the mother of George and Catherine until 1917). Nika’s mother, Galina Nikolaevna Shcheglova, did not lag behind: she wrote poetry, studied in a private dance studio in her youth, played in a small “local” youth theater here in Mansurovsky (a group of youth simply rented some room, that was the custom; in Mansurovsky 3 in 1914, young actors of the then unknown Vakhtangov Studio also rehearsed “with bird rights” in a rented room). By the way, Nika’s parents met there: her mother is an actress, her father is a theater artist, stage decorator (Georgy Pavlovich always remained an architect, never betrayed his main profession, but the theater was his outlet, his constant love, as well as classical music and graphics) .

After the birth of her only daughter, my mother had to completely abandon all her creativity - for the sake of her family. “Such a typical woman’s fate,” Nika Georgievna said about her.

Perhaps this is precisely the reason why Nika did not start her own family - she wanted to devote herself completely to what she loved, and not be distracted by everyday life. Nika knew that work was the most important thing in her father’s life, that family, although very beloved, was... sort of in the background. “Dad always served art!” Serving art is complete dedication and self-forgetfulness, which not every creative person is capable of. It seems to many now that this is the lot of holy fools, “bruised” people, with obvious mental disabilities, inadequate... No, Georgy Pavlovich was an absolutely full-fledged, well-educated, diversified, energetic and sociable person. It’s just... architecture was his love and calling all his life, his undying interest.

In this sense, Nika followed in her father’s footsteps - her devotion to drawing and illustration became lifelong. Nika's closest friend, Tanya Livshits, a painter, was from the same breed of people: complete dedication to her favorite work.

The family was sacrificed in advance.

Or maybe the reason is banal: after such an amazing dad, it is very difficult psychologically to let another man, a husband, into your life. You involuntarily compare, involuntarily you try on the future candidate to the person of your father. The candidate inevitably loses, alas. A good father is too high a bar.

Nika’s father’s life was tragic. The point here is not only that he died in the prime of his talent (he was hit by a car on the Garden Ring; he was 53 years old): all his life he was looking for some new perfect architectural form that could literally “calm his eye”, which would be both relevant and classic, but this search was not destined to reach a victorious finale. In his youth, Georgy Pavlovich focused all his interests on antiquity (“I’m not Nika in vain!” said Nika Georgievna), calling to some extent to return to its forms, or rather, to create your own after a deep study of the classical foundations. Classics was for him a separate planet, a different dimension, a kind of religion, a philosophy that he tried all his life to comprehend and pass through himself. Suprematism and constructivism, dominant in the 30s, did not satisfy him at all, despite the fact that he was a modern, active young architect, keeping up with the times. But, unfortunately, when the so-called Stalinist Empire style became the dominant Soviet architectural style, Georgy Pavlovich was extremely disappointed: a meaningless set of snatched classical architectural forms and individual details, often completely mediocrely, without understanding, without respect, stuck on the facades of buildings...

Did he encourage his colleagues to understand the classics this way?!

Nevertheless, he was awarded the title of academician of architecture; after his death, Nika’s mother received a very substantial state pension for her husband.

The most famous and, unfortunately, almost the only completed structure of Georgy Golts is the gateway on the Yauza, between the Customs and Saltykovsky bridges. A beautiful stone island, with a blooming apple orchard, seemingly outside the modern era, outside the metropolis, the calm and strict forms of the main building stand here, on this island, as if for an eternity...

In addition to this project, there were hundreds of others that remained on paper: Nika’s father did not have the “talent” to push through and promote his projects. He worked alone and in a team with other talented architects, but somehow magically it always turned out that anyone but Goltz was allowed to implement projects, although he never stopped receiving orders (and this work was always well paid), with he was never removed from architectural competitions, his projects were willingly shown to the public (there was a special showcase on Gorky Street where numerous works of all Soviet architects were exhibited for everyone to see), he never had any persecution or even complaints from the authorities, as one might assume ...

In general, he fit into Soviet life normally; the main thing for him was always work, and the Soviet government allowed him to work as much as his heart desired. Golts was awarded the Stalin Prize in 1941 for the construction of a residential building on Bolshaya Kaluzhskaya Street. Several of his small “standard” pumping stations have seen the light of day (it’s hard to call them typical – they are somewhat reminiscent of... ancient Greek religious buildings). But compared to the number of amazingly beautiful and monumental ideas that remained in Georgy Pavlovich’s table, these buildings cannot be called achievements.

In addition to this professional unfulfillment, there was another “trouble” in the life of Georgy Pavlovich - the arrest of his beloved sister Katya in 1938. Katya served as a physiologist at the Institute of Experimental Medicine in Moscow. In the camp where she was sent, sentenced to 8 years, she also worked as a doctor, writing a scientific work on dystrophy. In 1943, she was sent home, but she no longer had the right to live in Moscow. Then Katya went somewhere in the Moscow region, to the family of one of the prisoners, an acquaintance or a fellow doctor in the camp, for temporary residence. And it was here that she had a stroke. The arriving brother, in order not to let down the family where Katya was staying (everyone knew that she had just been released from prison), hired a cart at night and secretly buried his sister in the forest.

This happened in 1944. Ekaterina Pavlovna was 52 years old, she was only a year older than her brother.

Nika Georgievna claimed that Aunt Katya was released from the camp ahead of schedule because she was already a very sick person, and “they didn’t need extra deaths in the zone, they sent her home to die.” Not even home, but just like that, into space - they released him. Actually, that’s what happened: is her grave known now?

Georgiy outlived his sister by two years. How did he live them? With what thoughts did you continue to serve the Soviet country, the Motherland? Wasn’t this forced reconciliation the biggest tragedy in his life for Georgy Pavlovich? In his last photo he is very tired, somewhat devastated, exhausted, all gray; in his youth he was called “champagne splash” - for his energy and cheerful disposition...
Not a single theater project based on his drawings (and he dreamed of building a theater himself) was ever realized, only decorations for children's performances in the 20s. In the last years of her life, Nika transferred all of her projects to the Shchusev Architectural Museum. In 2011, this museum organized an exhibition of Goltz’s works - sketches of theatrical costumes. Some productions (for which Goltz painted) were staged in theaters in Moscow and Leningrad.

Nika believed that dad was a man of the theater... Or maybe, if you serve art, then... you don’t divide it “into types and branches”; If you have sworn allegiance to pencil and paper, then be faithful in everything and everywhere to your gods. Universal talent is a rarity, but perhaps Georgy Pavlovich Golts is that rare case when a person could depict everything on paper (and everything successfully): a political caricature, a city landscape, a theatrical costume, a memorable monument? The main thing is to be able to draw well...

In his youth, he helped the brilliant Natalya Goncharova design the play (ballet) “The Golden Cockerel”. Such experience, such cooperation does not pass without a trace.
There are two large books about Golts the artist and Golts the architect with a lot of illustrations (authors Tretyakov, Bykov), published back in Soviet times.

Nika’s first school years were spent in an ordinary secondary school on Obydensky Lane, not far from her parents’ house (this school grew out of the Emilius Repeshinsky gymnasium, which was located here before the revolution).

In 1939 (38?) the first secondary art school (MSSHH) for gifted children was opened in Moscow - a unique educational institution that exists in a modified form to this day - with special classes in drawing, painting and modeling. They made an announcement on the All-Union radio, sent letters to all drawing studios in the USSR: the school immediately planned a boarding dormitory for those children who would come to Moscow to study from afar. The school's first address was Kalyaevskaya Street; subsequently the school moved several times. It was possible to enter the school only on a competitive basis.

Nika was accepted.

A little earlier than Nika, her peers Tanya Livshits, Rosha Natapova, Klara Vlasova entered the school... All four will become friends and colleagues for life, Tanya will be especially close. For the last 30 years, Nika and Tanya will work together in the same workshop, travel around Europe together, have mutual friends, and exhibit together. Nika will survive Tanya by only two years, but after her death she will no longer get up - her legs will give out.

Rosha, Roshka, Rachelle Isaakovna and Klara Filippovna will become famous artists (Rosha - an illustrator, applied artist; Klara - a painter, people's artist of Dagestan). They are still alive, these oldest Moscow artists in Moscow, they still work creatively and remember very well that distant wonderful year for them in 1939 and their entire first enrollment of children in art school.

In June 1941, the school director N.A. Karrenberg managed to quickly evacuate the school to Bashkiria. The train with students went east almost at random: in some cities the school was denied accommodation, but the main thing was that the children were taken further away from the war.

As a result, the Russian-speaking Old Believer village of Voskresenskoye agreed to accept the students, which became their home for the next three years. Nika lived in Voskresensky a little less than the other children: her father’s Academy of Architecture was evacuated to Chimkent; dad came for Nika to Bashkiria; In Shymkent, Nika graduated from a regular secondary school. She was 17 years old at that time.

By the way, in Shymkent, dad painted beautiful aerial landscapes of the city in watercolors. And what wonderful drawings Georgy Pavlovich had in pencil and colored pencils! And this is in addition to his working drawings of buildings.

Nika knew: as soon as she could return to Moscow, she would immediately submit documents to the Surikov Institute. If they don’t accept him, he will go to work at the zoo, and a year later he will go back to Surikovsky.

The circumstances were such that Nika was accepted immediately, the first time, and her classmates, who returned from evacuation a year later, were enrolled in the same Surikovsky without exams. This was a kind of bonus from the leadership of the Institute (or perhaps a special decree of the Government) - a kind of moral compensation for all the difficulties of evacuation that fell on the shoulders of the teenagers.

By the way, Nika entered the monumental department of the Institute: it seems to me that she intended to work together with dad in the future (decorating the facades and interiors of buildings designed by dad with her panels). Monumentalist is a special direction. You are an artist, but you must know and feel architecture very well, because your field of activity is not canvas, not paper, but the wall.

Living conditions in Voskresensky were not heavenly. The boys were placed in two dormitories – boys separately, girls separately. In addition to their studies, which continued despite the war, teenagers were required to participate in seasonal agricultural work, helping the local collective farm. There was a catastrophic shortage of vital materials - paints, pencils, paper, canvases. The teachers taught the children to make do with improvised means.

The nature of Bashkiria - as luck would have it! – offered excellent plein air material for artists all year round, which the guys, of course, could not get in Moscow (in the city). It would be a crime to miss such an opportunity, the teachers understood this. The study hours devoted to classroom studies in the program were replaced by outdoor studies. Thus, life in evacuation brought the school students invaluable experience of observing and drawing nature.
They made the brushes themselves: they secretly pulled out the bristles from village pigs and, dipped in glue, inserted them into the cavity of a goose feather. They wrote in lamp oil or kerosene...

All students were guaranteed a daily ration: the school was supported by the state. Students sometimes walked around the huts and asked permission from local residents to paint the interiors of the huts, asked the peasants to pose, offering their bread as payment. The peasants agreed.

Some of the children were visited by their parents, who were immediately assigned to some kind of work to help the school. My parents rented corners of the huts. Mothers came to Nika and Clara and took on some of the kitchen work.

Well, and of course, youth and faith in a bright future helped me get through these difficult days.

Many, many years later, the girls who lived in the same dormitory in Voskresensky gathered every March 8th and remembered... Such a lifelong friendship was formed, despite the war, despite all everyday difficulties. Almost all of those guys who were in that evacuation in Bashkiria forever connected their lives with art.
The Resurrection Art Gallery currently has a special fund where the works of those very young artists who lived in Bashkiria for almost 3 war years are stored.

In Surikovsky, Nika ended up in the workshop of Nikolai Mikhailovich Chernyshev (1885-1973), whom she idolized as a teacher and as a person. A separate book should be written about Chernyshev: a student of Valentin Serov, author of studies on Russian frescoes, mosaicist. Unfortunately, due to ideological disagreements with the leadership of the Institute, Chernyshev left the walls of this educational institution. Subsequently, he was basically deprived of the right to teach at universities. But Nika managed to “take” everything possible from the talented teacher. Under his leadership, Nika prepared herself for large-scale activities (Nika is so fragile, frail, “dead,” as she said about herself - from birth): large-scale panels on the walls of buildings.

Alas, Nika managed to realize her only one panel - the children's musical theater of Natalia Sats in Moscow (there she painted one large wall with a total area of 100 square meters, where two panels were inserted according to the sketches of the pope). This was after my dad’s death... Was this work done in memory of him? In memory of dad's love for the Theater...

Unfortunately, I cannot find accurate data on this work by Nika Georgievna.

After the death of her father, twenty-year-old Nika became the head of the family. Mom was completely devastated by Dad’s death, especially after it became clear that it was not an accident, but a contract killing. Georgy Pavlovich was simply removed as unwanted. At that time he headed the architectural workshop of the Mossovet, young architects really listened to the opinion of Georgy Pavlovich. And this despite the fact that he refused to join the party...

I had to support myself, my mother, a Moscow apartment, a dacha near Istra in the village of NIL (“Science”, “Literature”, “Art”), which dad began to build according to his own design back in 1938...

Now I thought: why didn’t Nika want to take orders for monumental painting according to her basic education? After all, it paid much better than illustration. Maybe her dad's death changed her attitude towards the profession? Was it painful to touch everything that made up dad's life?

Or maybe they, Nika, as the daughter of Georgy Pavlovich Golts, didn’t really “want to take her into the company”?.. It was the late forties and early fifties...

Illustrating children's literature is where she can hide from all troubles and doubts.

But first there will be postcards based on Andersen’s fairy tales and children’s magazines (how truly standard this path was and remains for many artists looking for hack work for the sake of at least some piece of bread and at least a drop of reputation!!).

In general, this fairy-tale theme will be inexhaustible for Nika. She will return to Andersen all her life. Her first thin book, her first order from Detgiz - “The Steadfast Tin Soldier” - which she was infinitely happy about, was published as a separate small booklet in 1956. This first order was a big win for Niki. She was 31 years old at that time. Her skill was just “gaining momentum”; Nika's hand, although the hand of the Master, is not yet so recognizable in this first book graphic. Golts is not Golts yet!

Her close friend Tatyana Isaakovna Livshits, with whom she had not parted since entering the MSSH, was “assigned” to the so-called Combine of Painting Arts - a state organization that united all artists who had received a specialized higher education and joined the MSSH (Union of Artists). True, to join the same Combine in the sections of decorative and applied arts and graphic arts, it was not necessary to become a member of the Moscow Union of Artists.

Most artists of those years sought to be “assigned” to the Combine - this was a guaranteed income. In the USSR, all enterprises, factories, factories, cultural centers, sanatoriums, and rest homes had a certain item of expenditure in the budget - for art. They had to spend this money, allocated by the state, within a specified period. They turned specifically to this Combine, which distributed orders between artists, taking half the cost of payment for the order (yet in the USSR, as in Tsarist Russia, artists never ceased to be statesmen, more or less well-fed; artists were needed, most of them had good prospects in the profession and respect from the public).

They ordered different things from the Combine - from the endless Leninist theme and the glorification of Soviet sports to fairy-tale plots. Tatyana enjoyed painting the heroes of Pushkin's fairy tales - in oil, on large canvases. Although Tanya’s main and most favorite theme in painting was the urban Moscow landscape. She had the opportunity to exhibit for free at republican, all-Union, and youth exhibitions - officially “on secondment” from this art plant. At such exhibitions, all artists had the opportunity to meet potential buyers of their works, who were then invited to the workshops (workshops were assigned to all artists of the Combine) - to look and buy paintings. In addition, there were salons that accepted paintings for sale from these artists. Of course, “leftists” could exhibit and sell themselves, but the latter had no guaranteed income.

In a word, Tanya was lucky: she had the opportunity to do work for her soul for a salary already at the time when Nika was just starting her journey in illustration.
Sometimes the artists worked together at Nika's father's dacha. After the war, the dacha miraculously survived: the city of Istra, a few kilometers from the dacha village of NIL, was wiped off the face of the earth. During the war, the Volokolamsk direction - of all those located near Moscow - suffered the most severely. The dacha houses remained relatively intact for the reason that the Germans, approaching Moscow, lived there, in these dachas. There was a German telephone exchange in the Goltz house. During the bombing by Soviet planes, a shell hit the roof, making a huge hole. The entire Goltz family was evacuated at that time; no one knew about the bombing of the holiday village; water has been leaking into the house through the hole for more than one season; the lower crowns of the frame began to rot...

To restore the house and make it habitable, considerable funds were needed. In addition, the death of my father, in principle, did not allow the construction and interior decoration of the house to be completed - there was not enough money or building materials before the war, and after the war my father passed away.

Nika and her mother sold a valuable antique Steinway piano that once belonged to Katya, her father’s older sister, who was a wonderful musician (Georgiy himself played the cello excellently). This money was used to re-roof the building and replace the crowns of the frame. But subsequently, Nika Georgievna had to rent out one of the rooms of the large country house to tenants - this money was used to support the house (I think that the illustrator’s earnings, although satisfactory, were bohemian, and the house constantly required investment).

At the same time, both Nika and Tatyana consciously tried to push away all everyday issues as far as possible, so as not to waste precious time on them, which was intended for creativity.

In this house, Nika and Tanya loved to work together. Rachel also came here to the second floor of the dacha to work next to her friends.

Nika Georgievna soon began receiving orders from Detgiz regularly. But she did not agree to all proposals: if she knew that the work chosen by the management already had impeccable—in her opinion—illustrations by another artist, then she rejected the order. “Other people’s good illustrations confused me!” In my opinion, this is an understandable reaction of a professional illustrator: of course, you can create characters anew, but if you feel that someone before you has already created them and created them brilliantly, it’s probably better not to try to “outdo” your colleagues, but to have respect to someone else's work.

For example, I don’t quite understand how you can create the image of a new Pinocchio or a new Dunno? But Baba Yaga or the Frog Princess will completely tolerate new modifications.

How today we lack this understanding and respect for the already created images of the heroes of old children's books that have stood the test of time! In pursuit of income, illustrators produce a great many mediocre and even disgusting new works, which not only do not bring aesthetic satisfaction to the viewer, but even repel the familiar book.

One of Nika Georgievna’s favorite works was the fairy tale “The Black Hen” by Antony Pogorelsky. This work had already been illustrated before, but in this case, apparently, she felt that her illustrations could be no less interesting. She created several versions of illustrations for the same events in the fairy tale - she was looking for the ideal “state of affairs”, she could not be content with the composition she found. However, to the viewer's eye they all seem flawless.

Nika Georgievna has a lot of works based on the works of Andersen. She traveled to Denmark (together with Tatyana) and showed her work to Danish publishers. In Denmark they looked at it willingly, but they didn’t print it - in Denmark they see Andersen’s works differently. “My Andersen is the Russian Andersen. They have their own in Denmark!” - said Nika Georgievna.

Exactly the same story happened with Hoffmann’s illustrations.

When she was offered to illustrate the Little Prince, she agreed only on the condition that the drawings of the author himself, Saint-Exupéry, would be preserved in the next edition: the author’s existing drawings are an integral part of the story, they complement the text, they should never be thrown away... Try “ to outdo" the author of a literary work in terms of drawing is stupidity. Nika Georgievna was a great professional and understood this well. A wonderful model was found for her Little Prince - the blond boy Vanya, who was called to Nika Georgievna's home to pose. So the book was published - with drawings by both illustrators. In addition, Nika Georgievna made a portrait of Exupery himself for the book: he is a pilot, sitting in an aviation helmet in the cockpit of his plane...

In general, Goltz’s drawings are not colorful, but rather monochrome (most of them), which does not prevent them, of course, from being beautiful and very stylish. A lot of gray, black and white, ocher... A lot of just white paper, which gives only a hint of the object intended by the artist, without internal drawing of small details, which can be even more interesting than the “finished product”. However, such “romantic hints” in the era of perestroika ceased to suit publishers. “We now need something brighter and fluffier!” - they told Nika Georgievna.

This is how her Nutcracker was rejected. Nika Georgievna put the beautiful illustrations on the table.

However, times are changing! In 2004, Nika Goltz was awarded the Silver Medal of the Academy of Arts for illustrating the collection of her beloved Andersen, “The Big Book of Andersen's Best Fairy Tales.” In 2006, she was absolutely deservedly included in the Honorary List of Children's Book Illustrators of the International Children's Book Council. Nika Georgievna did not receive the Andersen Prize (or Andersen Gold Medal): only Tatyana Mavrina received such a high award among all domestic illustrators in 1976. Nika Georgievna only had an Honorary Diploma (China, Macau, 2006) for her illustrations of the “Big Book,” which is also a very honorable award.

Andersen led her all her life!

Nika Georgievna made illustrations for herself, for her soul, not to order, but always hoping that one day these works would see the light of day and reach the viewer.

On the day of the release of another book, the joy was almost always overshadowed by... the quality of the printing. Especially in Soviet times! Alas, there was no other print quality. When printed, the most outstanding, most ingenious drawings lost so many wonderful graphic and color details in comparison with the original (clearly visible when their originals were exhibited at exhibitions) that the illustrators only clutched their heads. The printing press and the quality of book paper not only distorted the original line, its pressure, its clarity, brightness, energy, but most importantly, the color was distorted and conveyed as if at half strength.

Of course, the young reader did not notice this...

But the author himself could not help but notice this. The illustration printed in the book seemed as if it was not his creation at all. But books and postcards were published in the USSR by state publishing houses in millions of copies! Unfortunately, this is exactly the type of Goltz that the mass reader has seen throughout almost her entire creative life. Book printing (mass) has only become acceptable in terms of print quality in the last 10-15 years. Fortunately, Nika Georgievna caught this miracle.

In this sense, visiting exhibitions of illustrators is harmful: their illustrations in books then seem to be defective, and you really don’t want to look at the book after that. And I very much understand the desire of collectors to definitely have the original of a replicated illustration: a person wants to enjoy the real color, the real line, the real atmosphere of the drawing, which no printing can satisfactorily convey.

For Nika Georgievna, a unique object of worship was not only book graphics (separate sheets of paper “with something drawn on them”), but Children’s Books as a whole as a phenomenon of modern civilization. This inseparable union of text and corresponding drawing, their mutual interweaving, penetration, addition, their dialogue, their stylistic correspondence to one another. “I place the picture on the right side of the spread, not on the left, as Favorsky taught... I want the text of the book to break against my illustration!..”

Nika Georgievna had a very high culture of speech - a family upbringing received in childhood.

Nika Georgievna said that she was not invited to teach. But it seems to me that she was glad of this non-invitation: it would have taken away her precious time from her own creativity (one must devote oneself to teaching just as much as to creativity, and stealing time from one or the other is dishonest, the result is semi-finished products). Nika’s friends recalled that she never stayed late at any birthday party, banquet or anniversary: she had to go home, she had to think about the next illustration, she had to... have time to hold a pencil in her hands today. For some reason, it seems to me that this is precisely the regime in which her architect father lived and worked.

Nika Georgievna and Tatyana Isaakovna had a story connected with their next gatherings (they lived together then; Nika Georgievna’s apartment was turned into a joint workshop). It was March 8th - the day of the meeting of all the girls who shared the same dormitory during the evacuation in Bashkiria. These girls were already over seventy years old, but they, faithful to their youthful friendship, tried to meet every year. Late in the evening, returning home, Tatyana and Nika, being in the most complacent mood, took pity on the black and white kitten, which was so expressively calling for help from the city trash heap. The kitten was named Benvenuto - “desired”, the one to whom they say “welcome”. Soon Benvenuto became simply Nutik; he grew fat, became somewhat insolent, the housewives complained that it was impossible to paint - cat hair remained everywhere on the paints and brushes, but, however, the benefits that the mongrel Nutik brought to the artists’ house became invaluable: Nika Georgievna used the cat as a model when she illustrated "Puss in Boots" and some of Andersen's fairy tales. The cat seemed to understand over time what they wanted from him, why he was here, and tried to pose himself, remaining motionless for a long time. Oh, lucky stray cat! It is likely that he is still alive. Although, even if he left after the mistresses, he... remained immortal in Nika Georgievna’s drawings.

Another story of two friends that I remember: at the dacha in the NIL there was a fireplace designed by Nika’s dad for the common room on the first floor (by the way, my dad also designed a work suit “for gardening work” himself - a relatively spacious overalls, with large rectangular pockets). The fireplace was more for aesthetics than for warmth, so the house also had a brick oven. There was no facing material for the stove (there was nowhere and there was nothing to get it for, there was no one to do the work, and in general for a long time there was no time for beauty in this country house for various reasons). The stove stood for several years simply covered with gray fireclay clay. And then one day, during Nika and Tatyana’s next stay at the dacha, the stove was primed with casein tempera and painted... to resemble real Dutch tiles. The tiles were made life-size, rectangular, all multi-colored, very bright, very rich, with unique plots (scenes from life, drawn and signed with great humor). It really turned out to be a royal oven! A picture book stove (as befits a real tiled stove).
The most amazing thing: from a distance, these painted tiles were indistinguishable from the real ones, but upon closer examination, when the deception was discovered, the tiles attracted even more attention!

It seems that Nika and Tatyana once completed a similar painting for one of their neighbors in their dachas: it was customary for families to be friends there, everyone was kind of kindred spirits (science, art, literature traditionally united people).

Well, now, what remains behind the scenes of the Nika Golts Theater (by the word “theater” I mean the work of Nika Georgievna).

Conscious neglect of everything that is not related to creativity saved Nika Georgievna (this is my subjective observation) from conflict situations within their family. The Golts branch was very small in number - dad, mom, Nika (Aunt Katya died unmarried). But my mother, Galina Nikolaevna Shcheglova, had a sister, Natalia Nikolaevna Shcheglova, also an actress in her youth (Vakhtangov studio), who was married for a very short time to the later famous Soviet poet Pavel Antokolsky (the famous Russian sculptor Mark Antokolsky is the brother of Pavel’s grandfather). Having married in 1919, they separated in 1923. However, in this marriage two children were born - Natalia Pavlovna (1921) and Vladimir Pavlovich (1923), respectively, cousins and brother of Nika Georgievna and her only closest relatives after her parents.

Pavel Antokolsky, even before the birth of his son Volodya, became interested in the actress (again an actress) Zoya Bazhanova and left his first family. However, he maintained the warmest relations with them, constantly helping financially: his new wife supported him very much in this, she never had her own children. Natasha and Volodya were constantly visiting their father’s new family.

Nika’s father, Georgy Pavlovich, during the construction of a house in the NIL holiday village, immediately set aside a separate room for his wife’s sister and her two children. They really visited there, “in fits and starts” (Pavel Antokolsky himself came to Istra to visit his first family and Nika’s parents), but the large family did not have to stay together often or for a long time. In 1942, Volodya died, the Goltz family would receive this news during the evacuation (it was to him that Pavel Antokolsky would dedicate the famous poem “Son”), and Nika’s sister, Natasha, nicknamed “Kipsa”, given to her by her father at birth, would come more often to another dacha - in the village of "Krasnaya Pakhra", the same writers' dachas, only not far from the city of Troitsk.

Nika and Natasha, cousins, will be on friendly terms.

Natasha will marry the Estonian poet Leon Toom, whose son, Andrei Toom, a famous mathematician, is alive and well today in Brazil. The daughter of Leon and Natasha, Katya, who also became an artist, will go missing before reaching the age of 35: while intoxicated, she will catch a “private owner” in order to get from her dacha in Krasnaya Pakhra to her Moscow apartment... Katya’s husband, a talented icon painter, restorer and, alas, drug addict, did not live to see the age of 35 (Mikhail Zhuravsky).

After the death of Zoya Bazhanova, the second wife of Pavel Antokolsky, his expanded family from his first marriage will be in full force at the dacha near Troitsk: his ex-wife Natalya Nikolaevna, who sought to support her widowed husband and help her daughter Natalya with the household (which is what she did all her life) , Natalya herself (“Kipsa”), Andrey Toom with his first wife Lyudmila and son Denis, and then with his second wife Anna and son Anton, Katya Toom with her husband Mikhail Zhuravsky and three young sons (Ivan, Vasily and Danila)…

The house built by Pavel Antokolsky and Zoya Bazhanova was large, but such a horde of relatives, all equally creative, could not exist peacefully in it. In addition, Natalya (“Kipsa”) did not know how and did not want to structure her life, taking into account the interests of her elderly father, the owner of the house, who also supported the entire huge family (she was somehow “weird” in recent years - probably due to her progressive illnesses).

Pavel Antokolsky died without leaving a will; daughter Natalya, who did not hide her fatigue from constantly being forced to be near her elderly father, followed him, two years later, from a diabetic coma, also without disposing of her father’s property (and her own, as the main heiress). As a result, Natalia Nikolaevna Shcheglova-Antokolskaya, Andrey Toom and Katya Toom-Zhuravskaya remained heirs to the poet’s property.

The matter had to be resolved in court: they could not divide the house peacefully. Andrei’s second wife insisted that everything be transferred to her husband Andrei, as “the main custodian of Pavel Antokolsky’s archive, as a person who cares about the memory of his great grandfather,” etc. Natalya Nikolaevna gave her share to her grandson Denis Toom, Andrei’s son from his first marriage... Katya's share passed on to her three sons, who to this day live in this dacha near Troitsk, as well as Denis's stepfather, a theater artist.

And these three sons of Katya, Nika Georgievna’s nieces, are the only blood relatives of Nika Georgievna Golts living (in Russia).

Nika Georgievna called Pavel Antokolsky's heirs not very decent people. It turned out that Antokolsky was a good drawer, but his grandson Andrey, as “the main custodian of his grandfather’s archive” (who took the archive with him to Brazil), for some reason could not preserve his grandfather’s legacy, in particular these wonderful drawings, the fate of which is unknown. Nika Georgievna assumed that the drawings could have been sold to Lithuania (I don’t know why to Lithuania; Nika Georgievna could have confused her with Estonia: Natasha’s husband, Leon Toom, was Estonian.) By the way, he left Natalia and the children in the late 50s, leaving to another woman; died under unknown circumstances in Moscow (jumped out of a window).

I think that this whole story would have been psychologically disastrous for Nika Georgievna if the artist had allowed herself to delve deeper into this conflict (but she couldn’t turn away completely - her mother, Galina Nikolaevna, and Natalya Nikolaevna Antokolskaya, who was left with two children in her arms, were relatives sisters!). In addition, Nika and Natalya “Kipsa” were friends in their youth... (Kipsa, a graduate of the theater department of the school named after 1905, was a sought-after children’s illustrator; thus, Nika and Kipsa always had a reason for professional communication in addition to their blood relationship ).

By the way, didn’t Nika Georgievna follow her cousin into illustration? It’s interesting that Natalya’s specialized education was also not entirely “on topic.”

David Samoilov was close friends with Leon Toom, Kipsa’s husband, periodically communicating with her at friendly gatherings. He spoke of Kips as a man of “turbulent character, noisy, energetic, emotional, categorical, the leader of the family.” Probably, over the years, these qualities, so attractive to others in their youth, acquired a grotesque form and became difficult to tolerate in communication. Later, everyday difficulties were added that Kipsa had to go through, generally without support (children, grandchildren, an elderly mother in very cramped conditions in a small three-room apartment on Vakhtangov Street), her husband leaving for another woman (Natalya was about forty years old at the time ), and then diabetes. There was a lot to go crazy about! The surviving photographs show how quickly and not for the better Natalya Pavlovna Toom’s appearance changed. In the last years of her life, it was easier for her to move with the help of crutches.

The mother of Natalya Nikolaevna and Galina Nikolaevna (Nika’s maternal grandmother, respectively) - Antonina Mikhailovna, originally from Nizhny Novgorod, like Nika Georgievna’s grandfather, lived with her daughters’ families at the dacha in NIL. I mention all these “small touches” in order to make it clear: Nika Georgievna was not completely free and isolated from family and life (family events) in principle...

Natalya Nikolaevna, Nika’s aunt, who lost her sight at the end of her life, survived her husband, daughter, and son. I don’t know how long Nika’s mother’s life was.

This is the other side of Creativity, where it is better not to look. I couldn’t help but mention this also because such family stories that touch the Creator knock you out of your work rut for months and years! It's like a disease that sucks your strength and health out of you. Yes, you can also create in grief and misfortune, but if you have decided to devote yourself to Creativity, then you need to push away everything unnecessary as much as possible... Well, or have colossal willpower to survive!

Pavel Antokolsky in the last years of his life, no longer having the physical ability to hide even for a short while from his ex-wife, his peculiar daughter (the obese Natalya managed the dacha shamelessly and impudently, her father offered no resistance), grandchildren, great-grandchildren, began to actively smoke during his common dinner smoking pipe. To the protest of those eating, he replied that in this way he was creating a smoke screen through which he could not see his relatives. Such a “natural” barrier!

Nika Georgievna had no one to “curtain” from in her house. Whether this is good or bad, I don’t know. But in the end, this loneliness and freedom from everyone helped her leave behind such a huge amount of wonderful works. Rosha Natapova sadly said about her friend: “As long as a person lives, you cannot see how much he has done.”

Finally: dates of life... of the participants in the play (alas, not all were found)

Nika Georgievna Golts 1925-2012;
Georgy Pavlovich Golts 1893-1946;
Ekaterina Pavlovna Golts, Nika’s paternal aunt 1892-1944;
Galina Nikolaevna Shcheglova-Golts, mother ca.1893-? ;

Antonina Mikhailovna Shcheglova, maternal grandmother? - OK. 1950?

Natalia Nikolaevna Shcheglova-Antokolskaya, Nika’s maternal aunt 1895-1983 (!), David Samoilov spoke of her as a “mathematician”, was it not thanks to her that her grandson Andrei, Kipsa’s son, became a prominent mathematician?;
Pavel Grigorievich Antokolsky, husband of Natalia Nikolaevna 1896-1978;
Natalia Pavlovna Antokolskaya-Toom, “Kipsa”, Nika’s cousin 1921-1980
(graduated from the theater department of the school named after 1905 in 1949);
Vladimir Pavlovich Antokolsky, Nika's cousin 1923-1942 (died at the front);

Leon Valentinovich Toom, husband of “Kipsa”, brilliant translator from Estonian, poet 1921-1969;
Andrey Leonovich Toom, Nika’s nephew, born 1942 (Brazil; Anna is the second wife, two children from this marriage);
Ekaterina Leonovna Toom-Zhuravskaya, Nika’s niece, ca. 1957 – ca. 1990;

Lyudmila Robertovna Toom, first wife of Andrei Toom, actress 1948-2006;
Denis Andreevich Toom, born 1968 (mother - Lyudmila Toom);
Ivan Mikhailovich Zhuravsky, Vasily Mikhailovich Zhuravsky, Danila Mikhailovich Zhuravsky (possibly Zhuravsky-Toom) - Nika’s great-nephews (Katya’s sons)

Leon Toom is buried next to his wife Natalia Antokolskaya in Peredelkino;

Rachelle Isaakovna Natapova, Nika's friend, b. 1925;
Klara Filippovna Vlasova, Nika's friend, b. 1926;
Tatyana Isaakovna Livshits, Nika’s friend, 1925-2010
……………………………………………………………………………………………..

For all lovers of illustrated children's books. Every week we will “discover” one of the illustrators for you. And every week there will be an additional 8% discount on his books. The discount is valid from Monday to Sunday.

The sonorous name Niki Golts is familiar to every lover of good children's literature and illustrated books. Nika Georgievna Golts (1925-2012) was and remains a true classic of the Russian school of illustration. We look through her eyes at the most beloved and dear to our hearts children's stories: “The Snow Queen”, “Little Baba Yaga”, “The Nutcracker”, “The Little Prince”, “The Black Hen and the Underground Inhabitants”.

Her creative destiny was largely determined by her parents. Her mother instilled in her a love of classical literature. Father, Georgy Pavlovich Golts, was an architect, theater artist and an excellent graphic artist. His tragic death turned the artist’s life upside down.

It’s hard to believe, but the artist herself never thought that she would be engaged in book illustration. She was attracted to monumental wall painting and the creation of panels. But it just so happened that her only monumental work was painting a hundred-meter wall in the N.I. children's musical theater under construction. Sats, in the composition of which she included two panels based on her father’s sketches.

At first, she was driven into the world of book illustration by need - she needed to somehow support her family. But suddenly Goltz finds himself in book graphics; it becomes an inexhaustible source of self-expression. After all, according to the artist, “... a book is theater. An illustrator performs a performance. He is the author, and the actor, and the master of lighting and color, and most importantly, the director of the entire action. There must be a thoughtful alternation of scenes, there must be a climax.”

Her first work was the book “The Steadfast Tin Soldier” by Hans Christian Andersen. Since then, Nika Georgievna has had a special relationship with this storyteller and his homeland.

She herself said that she was drawing a “Russian Andersen.” But the magical fragility of her children’s figures, as if moving on tiptoe, and the bright, rounded images of kings and cooks perfectly illustrate the fantastic, funny and sad works of the Danish storyteller. And Denmark became a beloved, almost native country for the artist.

The Danes even created a private museum for Niki Goltz. And it was for Andersen that in 2005 she received a silver medal from the Academy of Arts, and a year later for illustrations for the collection “The Big Book of Andersen’s Best Fairy Tales” she was awarded the G.-H. Andersen International Children's Book Council.

The artist also liked the pantheon of small magical creatures by the German storyteller Otfried Preusler. Goltz perfectly conveyed the mischievous spirit of the slightly disheveled and eternally curious Little Baba Yaga, Little Ghost, and Little Vodyanoy.

Under her pen, the grotesque world filled with outlandish shadows also comes to life in Hoffmann’s lesser-known works—the fairy tales “The Golden Pot,” “The Royal Bride,” and “The Lord of the Fleas.”

Nika Georgievna did not distinguish between “children’s” and “adult” illustrations. She always believed that children need to draw like adults, this is a dialogue on equal terms, because: “a child sees more than an adult. He is helped by spontaneity, not burdened by the conventions of depiction.”

It is no coincidence that she became the author of illustrations for two poignant stories about childhood and loneliness: “Star Boy” by Oscar Wilde and “The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Exupery's hero appears before us among endless alien spaces, with which his golden glow sometimes merges. And the Star Boy first becomes like the ancient Narcissus, only to then lose his face (the artist does not draw the hero’s ugliness, but simply “covers” his face with his hair) and finds his true self, going through suffering.

Nika Georgievna Golts lived an amazingly long and full creative life. Her work remained in demand among publishers even in the 90s. At 80 years old, she was still interested in the characters in her illustrations, and she even returned to many of them again, because over the years, by her own admission, she began to draw even more interestingly and freely. Her daylight hours were invariably devoted to her favorite work (she usually gave her interviews in the evening). Goltz’s impeccable drawings, created in the traditional techniques of gouache, pastel, and watercolor, have been and remain an aesthetic tuning fork in the motley and diverse world of children’s illustration.

Natalia Strelnikova

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Nika golts from the cycle sworn to the muse. Nika Goltz. “Now there is everything, there is only... no limit to perfection! Illustrations by Niki Golts for fairy tales

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