Churchill's paintings painted by himself. Winston Churchill

Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965) was not only an outstanding political figure, but also a journalist and writer who received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1953, but also a gifted self-taught artist. He left behind a huge legacy in this area: more than five hundred works. He worked mainly in the open air, and in the studio he created portraits and immediately began to paint only in oils. Now we will consider some paintings whose painting is not only of historical, but also of artistic interest.

Excerpts from the biography of a descendant of the line of the Dukes of Marlborough (a branch of the Spencer family)

He was born before his time. The mother at that moment was at the ball and, not having time to get to the room, gave birth to a child in the hallway, littered with women's outerwear. He studied at Brighton, at the school of the Thompson sisters, well, but in behavior he received the lowest marks.

Already a well-known politician and member of the Cabinet of Ministers, the First Lord of the Admiralty, W. Churchill, in 1915, in an effort to bring the end of the war closer, conducted an unsuccessful operation in the Dardanelles. The Allied troops were defeated and suffered huge losses. After that, the statesman retired. He settled with his family on the Howe Farm estate. It was a time of deep depression. Arrived at the Churchill family younger brother with his wife, who was fond of watercolor and spent hours in the park. After observing his sister-in-law for some time, Sir Winston took up paint and brush at the age of 40.

Above in the photo is Churchill's painting "House and Garden at Howe Farm". There he enthusiastically painted landscapes and portraits for hours, forgetting about troubles and bitter disappointment. So Churchill came out of depression. Later, returning to politics, he no longer left painting, giving her a lot of time. She, accompanying the rest of his life, brought him peace of mind.

Attitude towards painting

All friends and relatives admired the unexpectedly discovered talent. But the artist himself treated drawing simply as a hobby. In 1921, friends persuaded him to send Churchill's paintings to an international exhibition in Paris at the prestigious Drouet Gallery under the pseudonym Charles Morin. Among other works, his self-portrait was exhibited there.

The jury noted the emergence of a new original artist. All of these paintings were successfully sold out. In 1925, an exhibition of non-professional artists took place in London. Churchill's paintings were also featured on it under an assumed name. One of his paintings won first place! Later, in the summer of 1947, doing big politics, an amateur artist sent his work under the name of David Winter to the Royal Academy of Arts in London and, to his great surprise, two canvases were accepted. One of them, "Winter Sun. Chartull" is still in his house, another, "River Loop. Alpes-Maritimes" is owned by the Tate National Gallery in London. The artist himself, with his usual skepticism, did not take the praises seriously. Churchill easily gave paintings to friends, and now his works at auction are valued at millions of dollars. This is a reassessment of Churchill's true value as an artist.

Serious and smart painter

Although the politician never studied in professional institutions, his friend Sir John Lavery, a famous Irish artist, stood at the origins of his work. He was also greatly influenced by the works of the Impressionists, whom he met in Paris, and his friendship with the great British artist of the 20th century, William Nicholson, about whom he said that this man taught him painting the most, was very important for him. Churchill's paintings show us a man who saw beauty in the whole world around him. They reveal him as an artist who set himself complex technical challenges. This is no longer an amateur, but a professional. Let's illustrate this with one example: Churchill's painting "Pond with goldfish".

It is dominated by transparent curls of water and a gentle swarm of goldfish. This magnificence is framed by carved leaves of plants on the shore with their reflections carefully written in the water. The artist successfully copes with the construction of composition and perspective, understands and conveys all the complexities of the form of leaves, admires the secrets of light and shadow, enjoys color. Owning green shades is a great challenge, and in this work they are masterfully presented. It is not surprising that all professional friends unanimously admired his work.

Churchill's art diary

Wherever a politician had to go, and he traveled half the world, everywhere he took with him an easel, canvases, brushes and paints. Therefore, in Churchill's paintings we can now see not only rural views of England, the houses and estates of his relatives and friends, but also the Italian Alps, Egyptian pyramids, Views Of Morocco, French Riviera, Miami.

From the point of view of composition, the work “Hippodrome in Nice. View from under the railway bridge. Its arched semicircular ceiling gives the picture an atmosphere Italian Renaissance. The sky with the lightest clouds is reflected in the blue of the clear water, the banks of which are strewn with small pebbles. In the distance, in the haze of a hot day on the golden shore, the building of the hippodrome shines, which is located on the line of the golden section, and therefore blends very harmoniously into the landscape.

Love of life

All Churchill's paintings show his love of life. Almost all of his works are dominated by light, warm colors. They carry a good perception of the world by the artist, which is transmitted to his viewer.

Sir Winston, like many Englishmen, was very fond of animals. Among his pets were the cat Nelson, the poodle first Rufus I, then Rufus II, Toby the budgerigar. He affectionately treated the sheep, which he captured on the canvas “Chartwell. Landscape with sheep”, and pigs, about which he said that they look at us as equals. At times he was attacked by an irresistible longing. It was caused not only by overload, but also by the international situation.

Overcoming the complexity of being

Even before he wrote in 1938 the canvas "Beach in Valmer". This scene was a response to the treacherous policy of handing over part of Czechoslovakia to the Nazis. Churchill's hands were tied. He was removed from active work in the government. Therefore, on the one hand, a peaceful serene scene was written, where the family plays on a golden beach, but a huge cannon from the continent is pointed at Britain.

During the war with Hitler, Churchill's "black dog" appeared. Is this a picture? No, this metaphor means black depression, symbolizes melancholy, illness, darkness and the dog because of its close connection with man. The black dog was with him everywhere, sitting on his lap. It was the heaviness and tension that accompanied the leadership of the country in the midst of the war. Anticipating the sinister goals of the Nazis, in June 1940 Churchill spoke in the House of Commons something like this: "If we fail, then the whole world will plunge into the abyss of the dark age." Overcoming his pessimism, using all his potential and his strengths, Churchill coped with the black dog.

After the war

Churchill was again removed from big politics. He came to the USA, where he painted landscapes and presented them to H. Truman and F. Roosevelt. In America, a very warm and cheerful landscape "Valley of Oriki and the Atlas Mountains" was painted. Later, his health began to fail, and Churchill retired, but continued to paint. He died at the age of 91 following another stroke at his London home in 1965.

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He did not immediately discover his passion for painting, picking up a brush only at the age of 40, but over the remaining years he created more than 500 paintings! This hobby helped Churchill get rid of depression, forget about all the squabbles and troubles of "big politics". Winston painted everywhere: both at home, in Britain, and during his numerous trips to different countries. He painted both portraits and interiors, but he especially liked to go out with an easel to the "plein air" and paint landscapes.

In 1921, Churchill sent several of his creations to an international exhibition in Paris, signing them with a fictitious name, and six of his works were immediately awarded by the jury. And in 1925, at the London exhibition of non-professional artists, his picture (of course, no one had any idea who the author was) took the first place! In 1947, Churchill sent several works to the Royal Academy of Arts. As always, the works were signed with a fictitious name. Much to Winston's surprise, two of his paintings were accepted. And already in 1948 he was awarded the title of honorary member of the Royal Academy of Arts.

It must be said that Churchill himself rather modestly assessed his achievements in the field of painting, and was always open to criticism and new ideas, and was suspicious of praise, and even refused to arrange an exhibition of his paintings when he received such an offer. However, connoisseurs of painting perceived Churchill's creations very warmly. According to art historian John London, "Even some modern artists have recognized that a dozen of his works could compete with the masterpieces of the Impressionists."

I propose to look at some of the paintings of the famous Briton.

The painting was painted as a gift for US President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and depicts the Moroccan Koutoubia Mosque against the backdrop of the Atlas Mountains in the light of the setting sun.

In 1943, a 10-day international conference was held in Casablanca, which was attended by both politicians. They spent the only day off in the city of Marrakesh, where this picture was painted. Churchill presented it as a gift to Roosevelt in the name of friendship and world peace. While the American president was alive, the picture was in his house, located in New York's Hyde Park. (text from here

Pont du Gard (highest surviving ancient Roman aqueduct, Gardon River, France)

View of the river Var, France

Mimizan, France

Villa on the Riviera

View of the hippodrome in Nice

View of Eze, Alpes-Maritimes

Port in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, Côte d'Azur, Alpes-Maritimes

Landscape, south of France

Gardener's house at Madame Balzan's estate

Shadows on the stairs of a house in southern France

At the pyramids

Bay of Camara de Lobos, Madeira

Marrakesh

View of Vesuvius from Pompeii

Sunset over the sea

Mountains near Lockmore, Scotland

At the Scottish estate of the Duke of Westminster, near Lockmore

Item Moat Manor, Kent, England

Mells, Somersetshire, England

Near Breckles

In the shadow of the monastery walls

Cathedral Walk in Hackwood Park, England

Italian Garden at Sutton Place, England

Weald, Kent, England

Diana Churchill (the eldest daughter of the Churchills) in the dining room of Chartwell (an estate bought in 1922 by Churchill)

Drawing Room at Chartwell

Main Hall in Blenheim
(family estate Dukes of Marlborough, where Winston spent his childhood)

Winston Churchill, MARRAKECH.

Sir Winston Churchill is known to us, first of all, as a talented politician, statesman, writer and Prime Minister of Great Britain during the Second World War. His services to the country cannot be overestimated, and the powerful mind of a politician, combined with a special sense of humor, makes him a completely extraordinary figure. Many of the statements of the famous Englishman immediately became aphorisms, for example, "Success is the ability to move from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm" or "Time is a bad ally." In a 2002 BBC poll, Winston Churchill was named the greatest Briton in the country's history.

The talents of this legendary personality are not limited to politics and literature: Winston Churchill was also an artist. He did not immediately discover his passion for painting, picking up a brush only at the age of 40, but over the remaining years he created more than 500 paintings! This hobby helped Churchill get rid of depression, forget about all the squabbles and troubles of "big politics". Winston painted everywhere: both at home, in Britain, and during his numerous trips to different countries. He painted both portraits and interiors, but he especially liked to go out with an easel to the "plein air" and paint landscapes.

In 1916, at the most difficult moment in Churchill's life, when, after leaving the Admiralty, he was left out of work, one of the largest representatives of impressionism in the British Isles, Sir William Orpen, offered to paint his portrait.

Churchill agreed, coming to the artist's studio eleven times for posing. When Sir William showed the finished work, Churchill was shocked, saying that "this portrait depicts not a man, but the human soul."

Until recently, the portrait was kept in the Churchill family. On November 1, 2012, it was given to the National Portrait Gallery for temporary display.

Winston Churchill was very fond of his hobby. In any house that was owned by Churchill, a small studio was set up. The main politician of Britain always tried to find time to stand at the canvas, he painted in his offices, in the desert of Marrakesh and near the Canadian lakes...

Chartwell: Landscape with Sheep" was painted during the Second World War, in the early 1940s. Chartwell is Churchill's country residence, to which he moved about 20 years before painting. "Landscape with Sheep" acquired an unnamed private collector for 1 million pounds sterling.

Over the past 10 years, Churchill's works have almost doubled in value. The previous record was set in December 2006 when his "View of Tinherir", written in 1951 during a visit to Morocco, was sold for 612.8 thousand pounds.

Churchill treated the new hobby with big love. His exit to the open air was a truly majestic spectacle. First, gardeners appeared - some carrying a canvas and a stretcher, some brushes, a palette and tubes of paints.

Winston followed them, wearing a white teak frock coat, a light, wide-brimmed hat, and a cigar in his mouth. Assessing the landscape, he instructed to place equipment and install an umbrella to protect from the sun. When all the preparations were completed, Churchill dismissed his retinue and got to work.

Even in the tough time schedule of a statesman, he always tried to carve out an hour or two to engage in his new and, perhaps, the most powerful hobby. Winston painted everywhere. In ministerial offices and royal chambers. In the desert of Marrakech and on the coast of France. In the English open spaces and Canadian lakes.
In 1921, Winston sent several of his paintings to an international exhibition in Paris, prudently signing them with the assumed name of Charles Morin.

And immediately six of his works were awarded by the jury and put up for sale! An even greater success for Churchill as a painter came in 1925. At an exhibition held in London among non-professional artists, his painting took first place. And here, of course, the complete anonymity of the authors represented was also respected.

During the Second World War, Churchill would suspend painting for the time being. The only exception was a visit in January 1943 to the beloved Moroccan desert.
During the conference in Casablanca, Winston will say to the American president:
- You can't, having been in North Africa, not to see Marrakesh (province and ancient city in Morocco). Let's spend a couple of days there. I must be with you when you see the sun go down behind the snowy ridges of the Atlas Mountains.

Roosevelt agreed. They quickly crossed the desert in military jeeps and headed towards the famous Taylor Villa, which belonged to the American vice-consul. Special security measures were taken to protect high-ranking friends. Military patrols were posted along the entire route, which was 240 kilometers. When the cortege stopped for lunch, military aviation also covered it from above.

Having reached Taylor's villa, Winston climbed onto the roof, where they also raised the stroller with the President of the United States. Churchill and Roosevelt, two of World War II's closest allies, sat side by side watching the sun's majestic sunset. Minutes of calm, beauty, silence in the midst of the general horror and roar of the world war.
- Marrakech - the most beautiful place on our planet - whispered Churchill.

In 1947, Churchill sent several works to the Royal Academy of Arts. As in the case of the 1921 Paris exhibition, all the works were signed with a fictitious name, this time - Mr. David Winter. Much to Winston's surprise, two of his paintings were accepted. And already in 1948 he was awarded the title of honorary member of the Royal Academy of Arts.

Despite such a great honor, Churchill still modestly assessed his own artistic achievements. When, in the late 1940s, he was offered to hold an exhibition of his work, he refused, noting at the same time:
- They don't deserve it. These paintings are of value only because they were written ... - here Winston smiled widely and continued: ... a famous person.

Although Churchill never considered himself an equal great painters, his dedication and hard work at the easel were no less than at the desk. He could finish the finished work for days, correcting it to infinity. In addition, at any opportunity, I always tried to consult with professionals.

In total, Winston painted over 500 oil paintings over a forty-year career as an artist. It is not surprising that, upon learning of this, Sir Charles Wheeler, President of the Royal Academy of Arts, involuntarily exclaimed: "I just do not know when you find time for all your activities other than painting!"

In 1953, Churchill confided to one of his friends:
- I feel embarrassed to put my paintings on display. They are more like children for me - although they behave badly, they are still loved.

The paintings written by his hand will be included in the permanent exhibitions of such world-famous museums as the Royal Academy of Arts, the Tate Gallery, the Dallas Museum of Art, the Smithsonian Institution in Washington (a research and educational institute in the United States that has a whole complex of museums), the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC.

Churchill always attracted the public, and painting in this case was no exception.

Director of the Nelson Gallery in Kansas City .. where in 1958 Churchill's first personal exhibition was organized. Lawrence Sikman described it this way art style Winston: "For the most part, he is a realist. His trees look like trees, houses are like houses ... One glance at his work is enough to understand - he has a strong attachment to bright colors."

Churchill's colleague, not only with the sword, but also with the brush, Field Marshal Alexander commented on his friend's love for bright colors: "He loves paints very much and uses them too much. That is why his paintings are so sharp. He cannot resist not to use everything colors of your palette.

And yet, the question still involuntarily arises of what causes such high prices - the achievements of the author as an artist or as an outstanding personality. The editor-in-chief of Art News magazine (a New York publication, authoritative in the art world), Dr. Arthur Frakfurter, answered this as follows: “I think both of them. The only thing I can say for sure is that I don’t know a single famous artist who would also be such a great prime minister."

ABOUT PICTURE MARAKESH.

A painting of Marrakech painted around 1948 and presented to President Truman. In a note accompanying the painting, Churchill wrote that it was as presentable as anything he could create could be.
Truman once said: "I must keep this picture throughout my life, and it will become the most valuable possession that I can leave to my daughter Margaret after my death." And so it happened. After Truman's death in 1972, the painting was inherited by Margaret, and now she is going to sell the famous creation. The starting price has already been announced - $1.03 million.

... And painting is a friend who does not make high demands, does not involve in any exhausting enterprises. He can walk beside even the slowest and weakest steps, holds the canvas like a screen between us and the envious eyes of Time and the inevitable approach of Decrepitude.

Winston Churchill
PAINTING AS A PASTE

Painting as a free time activity

Those who for a long time have to bear extraordinary responsibilities and perform large-scale, extraordinary tasks, they are offered many means to get away from anxiety, anxiety and mental overstrain.

Some recommend physical activity, others - rest. Some offer to travel, others to withdraw from the world. Someone praises loneliness, and someone - participation in the festivities. It is certain that all this may have certain meaning depending on the temperament of the person. But the element that is constantly present in the councils and unites them is Change.

Change is the key to any lock. By constant use and stress, a person can “wear out” a certain part of the brain in the same way as the elbows on a jacket wear out. But there is a difference between living brain cells and inanimate objects: it is impossible to repair a worn sleeve by rubbing the cuffs or the shoulder of a jacket, while the stressed part of the brain can rest and strengthen, not just by rest, but by the fact that a person uses other parts of the brain.
It is not enough to simply turn off the light above the main and familiar area of ​​interest, it is required to illuminate a new field of interest. It is useless to say to tired "mental muscles", if such an expression can be used, "I will give you a good rest", "I will go for a walk" or "I will lie down and think of nothing". The brain will still be busy. If he weighed and measured, he will continue to weigh and measure. If he was worried, he will continue to worry. And only if new cells are called to work, only if new stars begin to rise on the mental horizon, only then will rest, freshness and lightness come.

One talented American psychologist said: “Anxiety is a spasm of emotion. The brain tenaciously grabs onto something and does not want to let go.”
It is useless to argue with a brain in such a state. Moreover, the stronger the will, the more futile efforts. All that can be done is to gently, carefully, and not without cunning, introduce something else into the spasm of the grip. And if this “other” is correctly chosen, if there is indeed a ray of interest in this “other”, then gradually, and often quite quickly, the former, exorbitant grip relaxes and the process of repair and restoration begins.
Thus, the development of hobbies and new forms of interest is a matter of first importance for a social person. But this is not something that can be done in one day or instantly realized by an effort of will. Cultivating other interests is a long process. And if we want life-giving fruits to be at hand at the moment of need, then we must carefully select the seeds, plant them in fertile soil, diligently take care of them.

To be truly happy, you need to have two or three hobbies, and they must all be true. There is no point in embarking on something at the end of life, saying “I will be interested in this or that.” Such an attempt will only increase the tension of mental effort. It is possible to gain great knowledge in subjects not related to your daily activities, and yet they will bring little benefit or relief. There is no point in doing what you like, you should like what you do.

If you look broadly, then all people can be divided into three classes: those who are worked out to death, those who worry to death and those who are bored to death. It makes no sense to suggest that a manual worker, exhausted after a week of sweat and stress, go play football or baseball on Saturday night. It makes no sense to offer a mental worker, a politician, a businessman who has worked for six days or worried about serious things, so that he is worried about trinkets and trifles on the weekend

What about those unfortunates who can dispose of everything they want, who can satisfy their every whim, get almost any object of their desire - for them a new pleasure, a new exciting thing - just another drop of satiety. In vain they rush furiously from place to place, trying by simple noise and movement to avoid the ensuing boredom. For them, the way to help is through some form of discipline.

It can also be said that intelligent, diligent, useful people are divided into two classes: those for whom work is work and pleasure is pleasure, and others for whom work and pleasure are one and the same. The first group is in the majority. But they also have their own compensating factors. A long day at the office or in a factory brings with it a reward, not only in the form of a salary, but also in the form of a strong appetite for pleasure, even in the simplest and most modest form. But the truly fortunate individuals are those who belong to the second class. Their life is a natural harmony. For them, the work day always ends too quickly. Every day is a vacation for them, and vacation days are a forced interruption of activities that absorb them.

And yet it is very important for people of both groups to be able to look at life from a different point of view, to change the atmosphere, to be distracted from the area where they mainly make their efforts. And moreover, it is possible that for those who enjoy work, the need for a regular complete break from work is most urgent for them.

The most common form of distraction from your studies is reading. In this vast and varied field, millions of people find peace of mind. Nothing inspires a person more respect than a library. "A certain number of books" (which is how Lord Morley defined any number of books less than five thousand) can give a feeling of comfort and contentment. But a day in the library, even if it is modest in size, quickly dispels this illusion. You wander between the shelves, picking up one book after another, meditating on the vast, infinitely varied storehouse of knowledge and wisdom that the human race has collected and stored, and pride, even in its smallest and most harmless form, is expelled from the heart with a feeling of awe, tinged with sadness. . You survey the massive battle formations of sages, saints, historians, scientists, poets and philosophers that you can never admire the riches they left behind, much less enjoy - and the short duration of our stay on earth overwhelms the mind and spirit.
Think of all the wonderful stories that have been told, in the most wonderful way, that you will never know. Think of all the deep research into matters of great importance and consequences that you are not destined to follow. Think of all the enlightening and exciting ideas that you are not meant to share. Think of all the great labors that have been put into your service, but the fruits of which you will never reap. And it is from this melancholy that peace comes. The bitter sweetness of reverent desperation melts and turns into a pleasant sensation of forced rejection. And from this feeling we can rush with increased thirst to the easier pleasures of life.

“What am I to do with all my books? ". The sobering answer is "Read them."
And if you can't read them, then hold them in your hands, look at them, get to know them, let them open up on random pages. Read them from the first sentence that catches your eye. Then move on to any other. Travel along them as a discoverer, make forays into yet unknown seas. Put them back on the shelves yourself. Rearrange them in your order. And even if you don't know what's in them, at least you'll know what they are. If they cannot become your friends, let them become your acquaintances. If they cannot enter the circle of your life, do not refuse them at least a nod of welcome.

You don't need to read too many good books in your youth. This is mistake. A man once told me that he had read all the good books. Cross-questions confirmed that he had read a great deal, but all the books left only a superficial impression. How many of them did he understand? How many of them entered his way of thinking? How many of them have gone through the anvil of his mind to become one of the brilliant weapons that he is ready to use?
It's annoying to read the book too soon. The first impression - it is this that counts, and if it is only superficial, then it may turn out that it will remain so. Later, the second reading may already fall on the ground coarsened by premature contact with the book. Young people need to be careful about their reading, just as old people need to be careful about what they eat. You don't need to consume too much. And it's important to chew well.

Since it is Change, Change that is the main element in distraction of any kind, then reading in a language other than the main working language will naturally be the most refreshing recreation. Proficiency in a second language is a very reasonable advantage, even if you only know that language at a level that allows you to read with pleasure. Our educators often strive to teach children too many different languages, and children never get deep enough in any of them to gain any benefit or enjoyment from learning them. The boy will learn enough Latin to hate it, enough Greek to pass the exam, French just to get from Calais to Paris, German to show his diploma, Spanish or Italian to tell one from the other, but none deep enough to take advantage of access to second literature. Choose carefully, choose wisely, and choose one language. Focus on it. Don't be satisfied until you can read that language with real pleasure. The process of reading for pleasure in another language rests the mental muscles, revitalizes the brain with excellent consistency and a load of ideas. The very form of speech arouses activity in other cells of the brain, freeing from fatigue and in the most effective manner those cells that are in constant everyday use. It can be imagined that if a person earns his living by playing the trumpet, then he will enjoy playing the violin for fun. And so it is with reading in a foreign language.

But reading and the love of books in any form have one serious drawback: they are too similar to the ordinary daily activities of the intellectual laborer to provide the element of change and contrast which is the essential ingredient of true relaxation.

To restore mental balance, we must begin to use those parts of the brain that direct both the eye and the hand. Many people have found great benefits in doing some kind of needlework for pleasure. Carpentry, chemistry, bookbinding, even bricklaying - if one finds interest in it and acquires the skill - can give a real release to an overloaded brain. But the best of all, and the easiest to start with, is drawing and painting in all their forms. I consider myself very fortunate to have had the opportunity to develop this new taste and pastime so late in life. Painting came to my rescue during one of the most difficult periods of my life, and on the following pages I will try to express the gratitude I feel.

Painting is a companion with whom you can spend most of your life journey.
Age does not concern her, nor decay of habit
It is infinitely varied.
One by one, the more demanding physical forces sports and games. Exceptional tension is acquired only at intervals of even more pronounced and prolonged fatigue. Muscles can relax and legs and arms slow down, the nerve of youth and masculinity can become less reliable.

And painting is a friend who does not make high demands, does not involve in any exhausting enterprises. He can walk beside even the slowest and weakest steps, holds the canvas like a screen between us and the envious eyes of Time and the inevitable approach of Decrepitude.
Happy are the artists, for they will never be alone.
Light and color, peace and hope - they will keep them company until the end, or almost until the end of their days.

Part 2

The second part turned out to be unexpectedly short, but it is about the most important quality of an artist - Insolence. I wanted to translate the word Audacity exactly as Insolence, although it is both Insolence, and Courage, and Courage. But it seems to me that here it is about the “second happiness”.

Reach forty years of age and never hold a brush or play with a pencil, examine mature look creating a picture of any kind as a mystery and wonder, standing open-mouthed in front of a chalk drawing on the sidewalk, and then suddenly finding yourself immersed in the very center of a new and very intense interest. Starting to interact with paints, palettes and canvases and not losing your spirit from the result of this activity is an amazing and enriching experience. I hope others can share it too. I will be glad if these lines encourage others to carry out the experiment I am conducting, and some may even find that they have been gifted with absorbing new, joyful entertainment that is in no way cruel or harmful to man or animal.

I hope that this is a rather modest goal: since there is no other subject where I would be so humble and at the same time so natural in my impulse. I do not undertake to explain how to draw, but only how to enjoy it. Don't look at these attempts with the condescending eye of critical non-doing. Buy a box of paints and give it a try. If you need something to keep your leisure time busy, take your mind off your daily routine, or brighten up your weekend, don't be too quick to believe that you won't find it in painting. Even at the venerable age of forty! Such a pity to drag and hobble through your free time, occupying it with golf and bridge, aimless nonsense, loitering around, shifting from foot to foot, wondering - "what, my God, do I do?" (which perhaps is the fate of some unfortunates) when all this time, if you only knew, you have right at your fingertips a wonderful new world of thought and craft, a garden bathed in sunshine, glowing colors, and the key to it all is in your pocket. Inexpensive independence, a mobile and perpetual pleasure apparatus, new food and exercise for the brain, old harmonies and symmetries in a brand new language, interest added to every mundane scene, an activity for every spare minute, an ongoing journey into enchanting discoveries - these are the wonderful prizes. . Make sure you get them. After all, if you try and the attempt fails, no harm will be done. Everything that will not be used in your studio can be passed on to the children. In the end, you always have the option of going out into the open, killing some animal, humiliating some opponent on the golf course, or picking off some of your friends at the green playing table. In any case, this experience will not make you worse. In fact, you can only benefit from this experience. After it, you will no doubt already know that hunting, golf ... are what you are meant to do during your leisure hours.

And if, on the contrary, you have a tendency, even in the later years of your life, to get acquainted with an alien sphere of immense dimensions, then be sure that the first quality you need is Insolence. There is no time for a measured approach. Two years of drawing lessons, three years of copying engravings, five years of copying plaster busts—leave it all young. They can take it. And a solid foundation is for those who, having heard the call of vocation at the beginning of their days, can devote their whole life to painting. The truth and beauty of line and form, which by a small touch or curve of the brush a real artist conveys to every detail of his drawing, must be based on a long, hard, persistent apprenticeship and practice so habitual that it becomes instinctive. We don't have to be too ambitious. We cannot strive for masterpieces. We are quite satisfied with the joy of taking apart a box of paints. And for this, Insolence is the only pass.

I will share my own experience. When I left the Admiralty at the end of May 1915, I was still a member of the Cabinet and the Military Council. In this position I knew everything and could do nothing. The transition from the day-to-day intensive management work in the Admiralty to the pitifully small duties of an adviser left me breathless. Like a marine animal fished out of the depths, or a diver brought up too quickly, my veins threatened to explode from the pressure drop. My anxiety was enormous and I had no means of removing it. I had rampant power points of view and had very little influence to give them any use. I have seen the unfortunate scattering of great opportunities and the feeble execution of plans that I put into practice and in which I believed with all my heart. I had at my disposal a huge number of hours of free time completely unnecessary to me, during which I reflected on the terrifying development of the War. At that moment, when every fiber of my being was burning with a thirst for action, I was forced to remain a spectator of the tragedy, who was cruelly placed in the front row. It was then that the Muse of Painting came to my rescue - out of mercy, or maybe out of the spirit of chivalry, because, after all, she had nothing to do with me - and said: “Maybe these toys will be useful to you somehow? Some of them amuse."

Experimenting on a Sunday outside the city with a children's set of paints made me get the next morning a complete set needed for oil painting.
Having bought paints, an easel and a canvas, the next step was to START. But what a huge step! The palette gleamed with beads of paint, the canvas stood clean and white, the empty brush hung calmly and hesitantly, heavily filled with its fate. My hands seemed to be shackled by a silent veto. But in the end, the sky that day was undeniably blue, yet a soft blue. There was no doubt that blue paint mixed with white should be applied to the top of the canvas. It didn't take artistic training to figure it out. This is the starting point, open to all. So, I mixed a little blue paint on the palette with a very small brush and with infinite care applied a smear the size of a bean on the offended snow-white shield. It was a challenge, a deliberate challenge, but so subdued, hesitant, almost numb that he didn't deserve any response. At that moment, a loud approaching sound of a car was heard from the driveway. From the car, none other than the gifted wife of Sir John Lavery got out easily and quickly. “Drawing! And what makes you hesitate? Give me a brush! Big!" I dipped it in turpentine, a blow in blue, in white, an incredible sweep over the palette (after that it no longer looked clean), and then several large, furious blows and cuts in blue on an absolutely shrunken canvas. Anyone would have seen that the canvas could not answer. No calamity will avenge a merry insult. Canvas grinned helplessly at me. The spell was broken. The nauseous complex disappeared. I grabbed the biggest brush and lashed out at my prey with berserk fury. I never felt in awe of the canvas again.

Everyone knows the feelings you get when you stand trembling on a diving board, the shock of being pushed into the water by a friend sneaking up behind you, and the blazing light that flutters inside you as you emerge completely out of air after a dive.
Starting like this - with audacity, or if you just get thrown in the middle of the process - this is already a big part of the art of drawing. But it contains even more.

Part 3

Oil painting
Hard enough
But how much more beautiful
Than watercolor painting
(La peinture a l'huile
est bien difficile,
Mais c'est beaucoup plus bleau
Que la peinture a l'eau)

Not a single word of disdain for watercolors. But there is nothing that compares to butter. At your disposal is a tool that offers real strength if you can master how to use it. Moreover, when working with oils, you go much further than when working with watercolors. First of all, you can correct mistakes much more easily. A stroke of the palette knife “removes” the blood and tears of the morning from the canvas and allows you to start anew, and the canvas is much better suited for impressions of the past. Secondly, you can work on the task from any direction. You don't have to line up from the white of the paper to your darkest tones. You can apply strokes wherever you want on the canvas. If you want, start with a moderate central composition of midtones, and then, when the psychological moment you need comes, go into the extremes of light and shadow. Finally, the paint itself - what a wonderful substance this is in itself (if it does not take revenge on you (?)). You can build it up layer by layer if you like. You can keep experimenting. Or you can change your plan to meet time constraints or weather requirements. And always remember that you can scrape everything off.

Just applying paint is already a great pleasure. The colors are nice to look at, but how nice to squeeze them out of the tube. Comparing them, however crude it may sound, with what you see is a mesmerizing, absolutely absorbing act. Try it if you've never tried it before you die. As you slowly move away from the hassle of picking the right color and applying them in the right place with the only the right way, you open up much broader aspects for reflection. You start to see, for example, that painting a picture is like fighting a battle, and trying to paint a picture, I guess, is like trying to fight a battle. And it's even more interesting than winning this battle. But the principle is the same. You are faced with the same problems as when you develop a long, well-founded, intertwined argument. This is a project where some or countless parts are connected by a unity of concept. And we think, although I cannot say this, that painting a beautiful picture should definitely require intelligence. large scale. There must be an opportunity to embrace the whole view, where there will be both the beginning and the end of the process, the whole and each part of it, as one instant impression, tenaciously and tirelessly held by the brain. When we look at Turner's large paintings (canvas are measured in yards both in length and height) and see that they are entirely made as a single action, and represent one single second of time, and that this is an uncountable amount of detail, no matter how small, distant, secondary no matter how important they are, all this is presented naturally and in true proportions and relationships, without effort, without error, at such moments we feel that we are present at the manifestation of an intelligence equal in quality and intensity to the greatest achievements in the military field, the investigation of an intricate crime or scientific or philosophical thought.

In any battle, two things are usually required of the Commander-in-Chief: to draw up a good plan for the actions of his army and, secondly, to have a strong reserve. Both of these things are mandatory for the artist. To draw up a plan, a reconnaissance of the area where the battle is supposed to be fought is required. The fields, the mountains, the rivers, the bridges, the trees, the flowers and the atmosphere of the area, all require and reward a hundredfold careful observation from a special point of view. You will be surprised when you discover how many individual elements in the landscape, and in each object that makes it up, elements that you did not notice before. And this is a colossal new pleasure and interest that every walk or trip is saturated with. So many flowers are mixed on the hillside, each different in shade and in sun; such iridescent reflections in the puddle, each a little more subdued in tone than what they repeat; such pleasant lights glide or silver the surface or outlines; everything is subtly and gently colored - pink, orange, green or purple. I found that as I walked, I noticed already instinctively, the hues and character of the leaf, the hazy, burgundy hues of the mountains, the graceful lacework of the winter branches, the hazy, dim silhouettes of the distant horizon. And I have lived for more than forty years, barely paying attention to them, and then only in a generalized way, just as you can look at the crowd and say: "That's a bunch of people!"

I believe that the increased sense of observing Nature is one of the main pleasures that I got from trying to paint. Undoubtedly, many people who love art acquired this feeling in high degree and no drawing practice. But I believe that nothing will help you acquire the habit of observation so quickly and so thoroughly than coming face to face with the difficulty of representing the thing you observe. And keep in mind, if you observe with care and accuracy, and if you capture what you see with acceptable correspondence, the result follows on the canvas with amazing obedience. Even if only four or five main features are captured by you and truly transferred, they are already themselves will bring bad luck or almost good luck. Answer five big questions correctly out of a hundred in the exam paper, and, yes, you may not win a prize, but, nevertheless, you will not waste your time.

But in order to implement his plan, the general must not only know the terrain of the battle, he must also study the achievements of the great captains of the past. He must compare the observations he has gathered in the field with the treatment of similar cases by famous rulers. And at this moment the galleries of Europe acquire a new and, at least for me, fiercely practical interest.
"Ah, that's how he, it turns out, drew a cataract"
“Exactly! And I saw the same light in the waterfall last week...” And so on.
You see the same difficulty you struggled with yesterday, and you see how easily it was overcome by a great or even skillful artist. Not only has your ability to observe Nature improved and developed, but you also look at the masterpieces of art with an analyzing and understanding look.

The whole world opens up with its riches. The simplest objects acquire beauty. Each garden becomes an innumerable number of mesmerizing tasks. Every place, every district, everything tells its own story. And how many localities, differing from each other in innumerable ways, and each presents lovely changes in color, light, form and clarity. Obviously, in this case, armed with a palette, you cannot be bored, you will always have something to do, you will never have “a few free days”. My God! There is so much to admire and so little time to see it all. For the first time, you will begin to envy Methuselah. There is no doubt that he used his abilities very mediocrely.

But what great commanders have succeeded in is using and conserving their reserve. In the end, when the last reserve regiments were brought into battle, the role of the commander was played. If it didn't win the fight, nothing else can do it. Events must be left to chance and given over entirely to the fighting troops. And they, in the absence of a high command, tend to stray into an annoying confusion, create a mess without any order or plan and, as a result, without effect. And in this case, the masses are no longer taken into account. The biggest brushes, the brightest colors can no longer create an impression. The picturesque battlefield becomes a sea of ​​mud, pitifully shrouded in the fog of war. It is obvious that they suffered a serious defeat here. And although the General, as he sometimes does, dives into battle himself and returns dishonored, he will not be able to return this day.

In painting, the reserve consists in Proportion or Ratio. It is here that the art of the painter follows the path of the greatest harmonies. White on one side, black on the other. And none of them are used in their pure form. And between these hard limits lies any action, all the force that you use in battle will be produced here. Black and white, contrasted on their own, don't make much of an impression, and yet they're the limit of what you can do in pure contrast. It is amazing, especially after you have tried and often failed, to see how a true artist can easily and confidently reproduce every effect of light and shadow, sunbeam and obscurity, remoteness or proximity, simply reflecting fairly the relationships between different planes and surfaces, with whom he works. We think that this is based on a sense of proportion, which is certainly trained by practice, but still at its core is a cold manifestation of mental strength and power. We believe that the same mind whose eye can rightly survey and appreciate and describe the colors in their true great picture with one glance, in one flash of simultaneous and unified understanding, will also, after a certain familiarity with specific techniques, be able to manifest itself in any other high activity of the human intellect. With regard to the great Italians, this statement is especially true.

I have described everything in such a way as to show how varied the pleasures that can be enjoyed by those who enter into painting with thought and hope. How much richer their daily vision will become, how much their independence will increase, how much more happy their leisure will be. Whether you feel that your soul is gladdened by the concept of contemplating harmonies, or your mind has become interested in an aspect of greater tasks, or whether you like the idea of ​​trying to find pleasure in observing and depicting those beautiful things that you see - the scope for possibilities is limited only by the brevity of life. Every day you can make progress, every step can be fruitful. And yet they will lay out in front of you in an ever-lengthening, ever-rising, ever-improving path. And you know you will never reach the end of the journey. But this is so far from disappointing, it only adds to the joy and splendor of the ascent.

Try painting before it's too late and before you make fun of me. Try it while you have time to overcome the initial difficulties. Learn enough of her language to open up this new realm of literature. Plant a garden that you will sit in when the days of digging are over. This garden may be quite small, but you will see how it grows. Year after year it will bloom and bear fruit. Year after year you will cultivate it better and better. Weeds will be removed. Fruit trees will be pruned to the shape you want. Flowers will bloom in ever more beautiful combinations. The sun will shine in it even in winter, it will be cool and the play of shadows on the path in bright days June.

I have to say that I love bright colors. I agree with John Ruskin in his condemnation of a school of painting that "eats pencil and chalk and assures everyone that they are better and purer than strawberries and plums." I won't pretend that I can be impartial about color. I rejoice in bright colors, and I sincerely feel sorry for the poor brown colors. When I get to heaven, I intend to spend a significant fraction of my first million years painting, and thus still get to the very essence of this subject. And then I need an even more vibrant palette than the one I have here below. I expect orange and scarlet to be the darkest, most boring colors on it, and beyond that, there will be a whole series of beautiful new colors that will delight the heavenly eye.

Part 4

Chance took me one autumn to a secluded corner on the Côte d'Azur, between Marseille and Toulon, and there I met with one or two artists who were happily exploring the methods of modern french school. They were students of Cezanne. They viewed Nature as a mass of shimmering light, in which forms and surfaces are relatively unimportant, and in fact even barely visible, but which glow and shine with beautiful harmonies and contrasts of colors. Naturally, suddenly coming into contact with this totally different way of looking at things turned out to be extremely interesting for me. Before that, I had painted the sea flat, with long, flowing strokes of mixed pigment, where the color nuances varied only slightly. Now I must try to represent it with innumerable little individual caramel-like dots and strokes of color, often pure color, so that it looks more like a mosaic embankment than a marina. And it sounds weird. And yet do not rush to reject this method. Step back a few yards and observe the result. Each of those little dots of color now play their part in the overall effect. Individually invisible, they establish a strong glow, which the eye is aware of without determining the cause of such radiation. Look at the blue color of the Mediterranean. How can you describe and capture it? Of course, you cannot do this with any color that has ever been produced. The only way to simulate this luminous intensity of blue is with many tiny dots of various colors, all in true attitude to the rest of the diagram. Difficult? Fascinating!

Nature appears to the eye through these individual points of light, each of which emits vibrations corresponding to its color. The sparkle of the whole picture must therefore depend partly on the frequency with which these points occur in a particular area of ​​the canvas, and partly on their relationship to each other.

Ruskin, in his book Elements of Drawing, from which I have already quoted, says: “You will not find in the most big pictures Turner, six or seven feet long and four or five feet high, you will not find a single patch of color greater than a grain of wheat that is not graded." But Turner's gradations differ from the modern French school in that they develop softly and almost imperceptibly from one another, instead of being bodily and even grossly separated. And Turner's brush follows the shape of the objects it depicts, while our French friends often seem to take pride in the fact that the brush is opposed to the object depicted. For example, they would rather paint the sea with strokes up and down than horizontal, or a tree trunk from right to left than up and down. I believe that the root of this is that they are in love with their theories and sacrifice the truth in order to demonstrate loyalty and admiration.

But, of course, we are indebted to those who so amazingly revived, purified and illuminated modern landscape painting. Did not Manet and Monet, Cezanne and Matisse, render the same service to painting which Keats and Shelley rendered to poetry after the serious, ceremonial literary perfections of the eighteenth century? They have returned to the art of the image a fresh draft of the "joy of life", and the beauty of their work instinctively possesses joy and floats in the sparkling air.

I do not expect these craftsmen to appreciate my defense, but I must confess an increasing attraction to their work. Clarity and precision of expression is one of the characteristics of the French mind. French became a tool of tremendous skill. The French speak and write as well about painting as they did about love, war, diplomacy or gastronomy. Their terminology is precise and complete. Thus, they are marvelously equipped to be theory teachers in any of these arts. Their critical faculties are so highly developed that they may be a factor holding back achievement. But it is a wonderful corrective for others as well as for themselves.

My French friend, for example, after looking at some of my daubing, took me through the galleries of Paris, stopping here and there. And wherever he stopped, I found myself in front of a painting that I especially admire. And he explained that it was easy enough to predict from what I was trying to do what exactly I would like. Before I began to paint myself, I was not interested in painting, and I did not have any pre-formed opinion. I just felt, for reasons I couldn't understand, that I liked some more than others. And I was amazed that someone else could understand this from the most superficial acquaintance with my work, could guess a taste that I never consciously formed. My friend said that there is nothing wrong with not knowing anything about paintings, but having a mature mind, trained in other things, and a new strong interest in drawing. The elements from which, with proper time and direction, real taste in art can develop are present and there are no obstacles or imperfect concepts to prevent them. I hope this turns out to be true. In any case, the last part (of this statement) is true.

When you begin to study it, all nature will be equally interesting and equally charged with beauty. I was shown a painting by Cezanne - an empty wall of the house, which he saturated with the most subtle colors and light. Now I often amuse myself when I look at walls or flat surfaces of any kind, trying to distinguish the various colors and shades that can be caught there, and wondering whether they arise from reflection or from natural color. You would be surprised if you tried it for the first time when you saw how many and how beautiful flowers are around you, even in the most mundane objects. And the more often and more carefully you look, the more variations you experience.

But there is no reason to limit yourself to the simplest and most ordinary objects and scenes. By itself, the prettiness of the scene, I am sure, is not needed for beautiful picture. In fact, artificially created pretty places are very often an obstacle to a good picture. Nature is unlikely to endure the process of double decoration - one layer of idealism on top of another - it's too much to get a good thing. But the lively scene, the sparkling atmosphere, the new and enchanting lights, the impressive contrasts, if they strike the eye all together, arouse interest and zeal, which will surely be reflected in the work you try to do, and it will seem easier.
It would be interesting if some of the real authorities carefully examined the role that memory plays in drawing. We look at the object with an intense gaze, then at the palette and thirdly at the canvas. The canvas receives the message that was sent by the true object, usually a few seconds before. But this message must go through the mail along the way. It was transmitted in code. It was transformed from light into paint. It reached the canvas as a cipher. And only when it has been placed in the right relation to everything else on the canvas can it be deciphered and its meaning revealed, can it be translated again from pigment into light. And the light this time is not from Nature but from Art. And this whole significant process is carried by means of the wings or wheels of memory. In most cases, we think that these are wings - airy and fast, like a butterfly fluttering from flower to flower. But any heavy load, everything that goes on a long journey, must travel on wheels.

Painting en plein air is a sequence of actions so fast that the process of transferring into and out of pigment can be unconscious. But all great landscapes were painted in the studio and often much later than first impressions were collected. In a dim cellar, a Dutch or Italian craftsman would recreate the glitter of Dutch ice, or the carnival and glowing sun of Venice or Campania. In this case, an impressive visual memory is required here. And we develop not only observing skills, but also recording skills—carrying it through external means and replaying the observations hours and days and even months after the scene has faded or the sunlight has gone.

A friend of mine told me that when Whistler was running a school in Paris, he had his students look at a model on the first floor of a building and then run upstairs and paint a picture, piece by piece, on the floor above. As they grew professionally, he lifted the easels up a floor until the elite of his class carried their solution up six flights to the attic, praying that the solution they found didn't evaporate on the way there. This may just be a fable. But it very effectively shows how incredibly important a trained, accurate, tenacious memory is for an artist. And vice versa - what a useful exercise is painting for the development of accurate and strong memory.

There is no better exercise for a future artist than to study and absorb a painting, and then, without looking at it again, try to reproduce it the next day. Nothing can more accurately measure progress, both in the art of observation and in the development of memory. And it's even more difficult to put together many disparate, well-preserved impressions, which can be helped by sketches and notes on color, into a completely new, complete concept. But this is the only way that great landscapes have been created, or can be painted. The size of the canvas itself is already an obstacle to doing outside the studio. The fleeting light sets very tight time limits. The same light will never be repeated. And it is impossible to return to the same place, day after day, without the picture "hardening". The artist must choose between an instant impression, fresh and warm and alive, but one that deserves only a possibly short life, and a cold, deep, intense effort of memory, knowledge and willpower, which can last for weeks and from which alone a masterpiece can emerge. And it's better not to worry too much about the latter. Leave that to the masters of art who have spent their whole lives training in dedication to the amazing process of building and creating a painting. Step out into the sunshine and be happy with what you see.

Painting is complete as a distraction. I don't know anything else that, without exhausting the body, would absorb the mind so completely. Whatever the anxieties of this hour or the threats of the future, when your pictures begin to "flow" there is no place left for them on the mental screen. They go into shadow and darkness. And all mental light, whatever it may be, is concentrated on the task. Time stands respectfully aside, and lunch knocks rudely on the door only after much hesitation. When I happened to stand at a parade or even, I say with regret, in a church for half an hour in a row, I always felt that upright walking is not natural for a person and we have acquired it in agony and can only be maintained with fatigue and difficulty. But no one who loves to draw finds the slightest inconvenience, if interest is maintained, to stand and draw for three or four hours at a time.

Finally, let me say something about painting as a motivator to travel. Nothing compares to this. Every day and every day is provided with outings and activities - cheap, accessible, innocent, absorbing, restoring. The useless hubbub of tourists gives way to the quiet enjoyment of the philosopher, which is heightened by an exciting sense of action and effort. Every country where the sun shines and every region in it has own theme. Light, atmosphere, perspectives, spirit - everything is different, and each has an innate, native charm. And even if you're just a poor painter, you can still feel the influence of the scene that guides your brush as it selects the tubes you squeeze onto your palette. Even if you can't portray what you see, you feel it, you know the scene and you will admire it forever. As people rush across Europe in trains, from one gleaming center of work or pleasure to another, passing at great cost through a series of mammoth-like hotels and garish carnivals, they know very little about what they are missing out on and how cheap they really are. priceless things. The artist wanders and lingers contentedly from place to place, always on the lookout for a sparkling butterfly of a painting that can be caught and set up and carried safely home.

Now I am learning to love painting even on dark days. But in my hot youth, I demanded a sunny color. Sir William Orpen advised me to visit Avignon, precisely because of its beautiful light, and, of course, there is no more charming center for the activity of a future artist; then Egypt, cruel and brilliant, representing in infinite variety the single trinity of the themes of the Nile-desert-sun; or Palestine, a land of rare beauty, the beauty of turquoise and opal, - it deserves the attention of true artists, and has not yet been depicted as it should. And India? Who and when developed, interpreted its blazing splendor? But in the end, if only the sun will shine, there is no need to go beyond one's own country. There is nothing more intense than the polished steel and gold of a stream in the Scottish Highlands; and at the beginning and end of almost every day, the Thames presents the inhabitants of London with an unearthly splendor and delight, and one must travel very far to see something comparable.

Painting Lessons by Sir Winston Churchill

In May 1915, as a result of a poorly prepared military campaign in the Dardanelles, Britain suffered heavy losses. All the blame for the failure was placed on Churchill, who held the post of First Lord of the Admiralty (Secretary of the Navy). The dismissal shocked the ambitious military man so much that he and his wife left London for Surrey. It seemed that only in this heavenly place he would be able to recover a little...

On weekends, his brother Jack and his wife came to visit them. One day, Jack Gunny's wife, who is fond of drawing, took her watercolors and went to the garden. Winston was just walking there. Passing by Gunni, I looked at her drawing. “Here you need to fix it a little,” he said and took the brush. And as if by magic, the hand itself began to draw lines very successfully and confidently. The well-known politician had a terrible desire to draw - just some kind of passion took root and began to flare up in earnest. He asked his wife, Clementine, to drop everything and go right away and buy him paint and canvas at the nearest store. An hour later, Clammy brought him everything he needed to paint (having known him for many years, she realized that something unusual had happened). Churchill plunged headlong into drawing. It was very strange - before that he had not even gone to the National Gallery. Sir Winston was 40 at the time.

A year later, charges of the failure of the military campaign in the Dardanelles were dropped from Churchill. But all this was not so important - he discovered the unknown world of painting. Near the easel, Churchill rested from the bustle of the world, was transferred to a completely different, almost ideal world of his imagination, bright colors and light.

Later, in his book Painting as a Pastime, which is subtitled An Instructive and Inspiring Invitation to the Joy of Painting, Churchill writes:

“I don’t dare to explain how to draw, but only how to enjoy it,” and teaches by example to overcome the fear of a blank canvas:
“Having bought paints, an easel and a canvas, the next step was to get started. But how do you decide to take this step? The palette shimmers with beads of colors, the canvas is as pure as a white rose, the brush hung indecisively in the air, like a head bowed in thought over a difficult fate. Silence gripped my hand. But the sky must surely be blue or blue. You just need to mix blue paint with white and apply to the top of the canvas. You don't have to be an artist to see and do this without preparation. This is the starting point for everyone.

So, carefully, with a very small brush, I mix a drop of blue paint on the palette, and then, just as carefully, insult the snow-white canvas with a spot the size of a pea. It was a real challenge, I threw it and stopped in indecision, as if expecting retribution.
At that moment, a loud sound of an approaching car was heard. From this chariot, the talented wife of Sir John Lavery fluttered easily and quickly. “You are painting a picture! But why are you so slow? Let me have your brush, no - a big one! A splash of turpentine, a few blue and white drops - and an incredible flower blooms on a clean palette. Then several large, hard strokes of blue on the timidly compressed canvas. Now everyone can see how defenseless he is - no evil rock, no vengeance for glib violence - the canvas smiled at me with a shy smile. The spell was broken, the painful clamp removed. I grabbed the biggest brush and lashed out at my prey with berserk fury. Since then, I have never felt fear of the canvas.

In 1921, Winston Churchill sent several of his paintings to an international exhibition in Paris, signing them with the assumed name of Charles Morin. Six of his works were awarded by the jury and put up for sale.

The year 1925 brought even greater success to the painter. At an exhibition held in London among non-professional artists, his painting took first place. The complete anonymity of the authors represented was also observed here.

“Painting absorbs completely. I don't know anything that, without exhausting the body, takes all your attention to such an extent. The worries of the present or the threats of the future - when a picture is being painted - they have no place on the mental screen. They crawl into shadow and darkness. Time stops, respectfully steps aside, and only when dinner angrily knocks on the door, after many hesitation, you tear yourself away from it.

When you have to stand at a parade or even in a church, after half an hour you feel that the vertical position is not natural for a person, you get so tired, with difficulty maintaining it. But the one who loves painting does not experience the slightest inconvenience as long as he is interested, and paints tirelessly for three or four hours in a row.

In 1947, Churchill anonymously offered several of his paintings to the Royal Academy of Arts, which selected two of them, and the author was awarded the title of Honorary Member of the Academy. An unprecedented case: Churchill became the only politician in the UK - an Honorary Member of the Royal Academy of Arts.

"If Churchill had been involved in art as much as he was in politics, he certainly could have become the most famous artist in the world."

In 1959, his art exhibition was arranged in London at the Royal Academy of Arts, although the author himself resisted for a long time and argued that his paintings were not worth it. 61 of his works were presented to the visitors.

All in all, "Churchillian" has about 500 paintings. A whole album of works by Churchill, made in the style of realism and impressionism, has been published. The works of the politician-artist are exhibited at the Tate Gallery in London, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, the Sao Paulo Museum of Art (Brazil). One painting is in the private collection of the Prime Minister of the United Arab Emirates, Sheikh Mohammed Al Maktoum, and the "Palladian Style Bridge" adorns private collection Queen Elizabeth II.

His last painting, Chartwell Landscape with Sheep, sold in July 2007, sold at Sotheby's for $2.06 million.

Churchill said: “When I get to heaven, I am going to spend a significant amount of my first million years drawing. I want to dive deeper into the subject."

Maybe that's what he's doing right now.)

"MUSE OF THE ARTIST"
From D. Medvedev's book "Churchill: Private Life"

In the fight against the "black dog"

The summer of 1915 would be the first defeat in the political career of Winston Churchill. Eight months after the outbreak of the First World War, he will develop a grandiose plan to capture the Dardanelles, followed by the surrender of the Ottoman Empire. Despite all the hopes associated with this operation, the landing of the allied forces will end in disaster. The Gallipoli peninsula will turn into a second Arlington cemetery, becoming the last refuge for 45,000 soldiers.

A defeat on the military front will be followed by a crisis on the political one. The Liberal government led by David Lloyd George will give way to a national coalition of both parties, the Liberals and the Conservatives. The price that the Tories will demand for maintaining the political balance will be the removal of Churchill from the new cabinet.

It will take forty years before Clement Attlee calls the capture of the Dardanelles "the most gifted strategic operation throughout the First World War. In the middle of 1915, many thought differently. The final point on this issue has not been put to this day. For more than ninety years since the tragedy, historians and the military will argue about the causes of this catastrophe and the role that Winston Churchill played in it. Of course, it would be foolish to deny and belittle the influence he had on the development and implementation of the Dardanelles operation. But it would be no less a mistake to make him the only "scapegoat", turning a blind eye to the miscalculations of analysts, the lack of coherence in execution between military departments.

One way or another, but the blood of the Dardanelles will fall like a crimson stain on Churchill's further reputation. The worst thing he had to endure in the first months after the tragedy. “I became like a marine animal that has been taken ashore,” he recalled years later. - My veins were ready to burst under the pressure of terrible pressure. Every cell of my body was seething with a thirst for activity, and I found myself in the stalls and was forced to watch the unfolding drama, content with the role of an indifferent spectator.
Deprived of activity, Winston will fall into a severe depression - a family illness of the Churchill family. One of the researchers of this dynasty notes that five of the seven Dukes of Marlborough were subject to sudden mood swings and suffered from depression. This bitter cup will not blow away even Winston, who called it "the black dog." A complete understanding of Churchill's personality is impossible without taking into account such a decisive factor. In the days of crises and failures, the “black dog”, breaking free from the chain, pounced on his victim, mercilessly tormenting his tired body and soul.

Remembering the summer of 1915, the cheerful Churchill, who always personified the insatiable thirst for everything worldly, confesses to his personal doctor:
“Once, when I was young, the colors of life faded for me for two or three years. I clearly did my job, sat in parliament, but the black depression completely swallowed up my being. Since then, I don't like to stand on the edge of the platform when the courier train rushes by. I also don't like standing on the side of a ship and looking down at the water. One more moment and it's all over. Just a few drops of desperation.

Over time, depression will lead Churchill to deep pessimism. In this regard, one case is very typical. October 20, 1943 Winston will visit his old friend Sir Dudley Pound, who was dying. Sharing his impressions of this meeting, Churchill says:
“Dudley's face was motionless…” Winston tried to mimic the lifeless expression on the face of a dying man. - He took my hand, and when I said words of comfort to him, which should have been pleasant to him, he squeezed my hand tightly. Despite the severity of his condition, Dudley was of sound mind and perfectly understood everything I told him. He died on the day of the Battle of Trafalgar.

Here Churchill will pause for a moment and add:
Death is the greatest gift that God can bestow on a person.
Shortly before his eightieth birthday, Winston confides to Charles Wilson:
I no longer find life interesting and attractive. It has no place for fun. People are either base or too stupid to cope with the new milestones of the modern world.

Not much optimism emanates from the phrase:
- Vile world! If we knew in advance what awaits us here, no one would want to be born.
What was the reason for such severe mental conditions? A cool attitude on the part of parents is unlikely, heredity is partially, an inability to accept one's own mistakes and mistakes, driving a sense of guilt inside oneself, is possible. One day, Winston admits that from the very first days of his political career, only by an effort of will forced himself not to think about failures:
“It seemed to me that I could not keep my peace of mind, digging into my own mistakes.
The Dardanelles campaign will be an exception. Churchill could not but realize the scale of the tragedy. To his friend V. S. Blunt, who caught him painting, he will say words saturated with bitterness:
There is more blood on my hands than paint.

In 1969, Clementine confesses to her husband's official biographer, Martin Gilbert:
- The failure in the Dardanelles haunted Winston throughout his life. After leaving the Admiralty, he considered himself a finished man. The possibility of returning to the government seemed unreal to him. I thought he would never get over himself. I was even afraid that he would die of grief.

To restore peace of mind, Winston and Clemmie will leave for a small country house from the Tudor era Howe Farm, filmed by them on summer period. Howe Farm was rebuilt as a country residence in 1900 by renowned architect Edwin Lutens, who designed the central buildings and the residence of the Viceroy in New Delhi. The picturesque surroundings of Surrey will have a favorable effect on Churchill. He will even begin to think about whether to buy him one of the nearby houses. Turning to his brother, who fought at that time in the same notorious Dardanelles, Winston remarks:
How I wish you were with us. Here is a truly delightful valley with a beautiful garden that is filled with sparkling summer diamonds. We live very simply, although we have everything necessary for a normal and decent way of life - hot baths, cold champagne, new dishes and old brandy.

Among the few guests who visited the Churchill couple in those days was Jack's wife Gwendelyn with her youngest son Henry. Everything was done to make Winston's life more interesting. But could peaceful nature and family idyll restore Churchill's peace of mind? Unfortunately no. The wound was too deep, and very little time had passed since the tragedy. Winston wandered for hours with a distant look on the lawns, sometimes stopping and muttering something under his breath, waving his arms and gesticulating, as if trying to prove something to an invisible interlocutor.

Clementine was seriously frightened by the state of her husband. She was seriously afraid that, succumbing to depression, Winston would go to extreme measures and be able to commit suicide. The way out was suggested by the never discouraged Gwendelin. She was fond of watercolors, and one day in June, defiantly going out onto the lawn, she began to draw, which intrigued her brother-in-law a lot. Noticing his curiosity, Gooney invited Winston to take part in the creative process himself. Churchill made a few strokes and was amazed at the change that had taken place. Winston wanted to draw more and more. And the picturesque surroundings of Surrey were the best suited for this purpose - an unusual pond with a graceful turn, swaying treetops, houses scattered along the valley with characteristic roofs and chimneys and, of course, haystacks, filling the air with an atmosphere of pastoral peace and tranquility.

It was under such highly unusual circumstances that Winston's historic meeting with what he would later call "the artist's muse" took place. Churchill himself believed that he met this lady for the first time:
– Having reached the age of forty, I never once turned to the help of a brush or pencil, before that I looked at the process of creating a picture as a special secret.

It was partly true, but only partly. Art experiments in Surrey were far from the first introduction to painting by the great politician. Even during his studies at Ascot, Winston studied drawing, and decorated countless correspondence with his mother with funny sketches and his own illustrations. Moving to Harrow, Churchill chose drawing as a secondary discipline. Explaining the reasons for his action, Winston confessed to Lady Randolph:
“My dear mother, I am very concerned about learning to draw. Dad said that learning to sing was a waste of time, so I switched to painting.
“I'm sure you can do whatever you want,” Jenny said.
“True, Mr. Davidson told me that it is one thing to take lessons and quite another to devote oneself to painting, so I intend to study an hour and a half a week, and if I still manage to take one hour with an army class, then I can quite master this discipline. Drawing can bring 1,200 points in future exams, and now every point counts.
Winston will quickly master the artistic material, confessing not without pride:
– I am making great progress, and I am already able to depict small landscapes, bridges and other similar things.
If we talk about entering Sandhurst, then at first Winston's artistic abilities will not bring him much benefit. Only during the third attempt, which turned out to be successful, as you know, the future member of the Royal Academy of Arts will score 339 points out of a possible 500 in drawing.
Twenty-five years will pass and everything will change. Picking up a brush in the clearing in front of Howe Farm, Churchill wants to paint more and more. Sensing Winston's impatience, Gooney gives him an artist's kit for his six-year-old son. But this was not enough for Churchill. He wanted to paint in oils, and only in oils.
On June 25, 1915, returning to Howe Farm after another meeting of the Committee on the Dardanelles, Winston brought with him an easel, canvases, turpentine, oil paints and decided to plunge into the seething river of creativity on his own:

“There was a light blue sky. It seems, well, what could be easier - mix blue with white and cover the top of the canvas with it. You do not need to have any ability or talent to do this. I very timidly began to mix paints. With a thin brush he applied blue and with great caution white, which crossed out everything with a bold line. I made a challenge, a well-thought-out challenge, but so timid and hesitant, full of stupefaction and hesitation, that it is not even worthy of mere mention.

Suddenly, the sound of an approaching car was heard. It was the wife of the painter Sir John Lavery.
- Painting, what are you afraid of! Give me a brush, no, no more.
A slap on turpentine, on a palette of white, blue, then a few furious strokes on the canvas. It was irresistible. No dark force could resist the passionate onslaught of Lady Lavery. Only the canvas grinned helplessly before us. All spells evaporated, all complexes disappeared. I grabbed the largest brush and attacked my victim with terrible fury. Never again have I felt timid in front of a canvas.”

With the Lavery family, Churchill would develop a fruitful and lasting relationship, very characteristic of a British politician. Winston would often work in Sir John's London studio, painting many pictures there, including his famous self-portrait. Lavery recalls:
- Mr. Churchill is often called my student, which, of course, is very pleasant, because I know few amateurs who would have the same deep understanding of light and more than confident mastery of basic techniques.
In 1919, Lavery would take one of Winston's works, a portrait of himself painted by Churchill in 1915 in Lavery's workshop, to an annual exhibition at the London Gallery organized by the Royal Society of Portrait Painters. This exhibition, which will also feature works by such famous masters, like Frank Salisbury and Sir Oswald Birley, would be the first public display of Churchill's art.

Having joined the high art, Winston will learn to love and appreciate the beauty of the world around him.
“Before I tried to draw, I had no idea how much a landscape could tell,” he shared his impressions. – His colors have become more saturated, more important and more distinguishable for me. I began to notice that, as I walked, I already instinctively paid attention to the color of the leaf, the reflections in the puddles, the fabulously purple outlines of the mountains, the perfect shapes of the winter branches, the smoky outline of the distant horizon. I already paid attention to all these things, but now they have acquired a new meaning for me. My mind, driven by interest and fantasy, began to pick up impressions from much smaller details. And each such impression brought its own pleasure and benefit.

Having fallen in love with nature in all its manifestations, Winston became more attentive to female beauty. One of his secretaries, Miss Phyllis Moir, remarks:
He had a sharpened visual perception. He experienced the feeling of admiration so familiar to artists at the sight of a beautiful shape or an unusual color. The same applied to beautiful women. His eyes lit up, and a smile immediately appeared on his face.

Churchill approached his painting with great feeling. His exit to the open air was a majestic spectacle. First, gardeners appeared - some carrying a canvas and a stretcher, some brushes and a palette, some tubes and a palette knife. Winston followed them, wearing a white teak frock coat, a light, wide-brimmed hat, and a cigar in his mouth. Assessing the landscape, he instructed to place equipment and install an umbrella to protect from the sun. When all the preparations were completed, Churchill dismissed his entire retinue and set to work. Painting became the only hobby of the great Englishman, in which he was laconic. As he remembers close girlfriend Violet Bonham Carter:
- He paints silently and fascinated, peering intently at the landscape, which he intends to transfer to the canvas.

In addition to their aesthetic appeal, beneficial effect painting was also in the fact that she was able to heal Churchill from a severe attack of depression. To his surprise, he found that by concentrating on the canvas, he forgets about all the political squabbles and troubles. One day, Winston confesses to his cousin Claire Sheridan:
“Sometimes I’m ready to give up almost everything for the sake of painting.
His secretary Edward Marsh, who witnessed Churchill's first artistic experiments, recalls:
A new hobby diverted his attention. It had a calming effect, bringing peace and tranquility to Winston's torn soul.

Churchill himself, sharing his impressions, would write years later: “I don’t even know how I could have survived those terrible months from May to November, when I left the Cabinet, if this new great interest had not entered my life. Throughout the summer, I painted selflessly. Never before have I found this kind of activity that would completely protect against gloomy thoughts. Take, for example, golf. It is completely unsuitable for these purposes. When playing games, I think about business more than half the time. Even between the chakkers in the polo, sad thoughts will flash through every now and then. In painting, everything is different. I don't know of any other occupation that, without exhausting the body at all, absorbs the mind so completely. No matter what worries the day brings, no matter what threats the future holds, as soon as the picture begins to be born, all anxieties recede, they no longer have a place in the head. They go into the shadows and disappear into the darkness. Even time reverently steps aside.”

Left with no inheritance as a result of the failure of the Dardanelles campaign, Churchill, with the rank of major, will go to the front. In early 1916 he would take command of the 6th Battalion, Royal Scots Fusiliers. Despite all the dangers of the First World War, Winston would continue his artistic experiments at the front, having painted four paintings during his service - three in the line of fire and one in cover. Sharing his impressions with his wife, he confesses to her:
- My dear, you know, it seems to me that painting will be a real pleasure and a source of inspiration for me, if, of course, I return safe and sound.
Such composure made a huge impression on his wards. Every time the troops went to the front line, Churchill, as if nothing had happened, devoted some time to drawing. Gradually, the landscape was more and more covered with craters from explosions and artillery shells. When work on the picture was already coming to an end, Winston became gloomy and withdrawn. After five or six days, the gloomy mood was again replaced by the former cheerfulness and charm of the schoolboy. Struck by this change, Officer Edmond Hakewell asked his commander:
- Sir, what happened?
“I was very worried that I couldn’t draw the crater from the explosion,” Winston replied. - I did it yesterday. My funnel looked more like a hill or a mountain, but after adding a bit of white, I was surprised to find that it took on the desired look.

In May 1916, the political situation in Britain changed, giving Winston a good opportunity to return to London. The Churchill family spent their first weekend at Blenheim Palace and General Sir Ian Hamilton's country residence at Postlip Hall in Gloucestershire. Going on vacation, Winston took with him everything he needed to continue his artistic experiments. Sir Jan's wife Jane, who witnessed his work on the canvas, wrote in her diary: "Winston is wonderful, very sincere and convincing in his work, painting like lightning."

Since then, painting has become a constant component in the life of the great politician. Easels, paints and numerous canvases have always accompanied Winston on countless trips and business trips. In every house that the Churchill couple rented, a studio was set up. Even with a tight time schedule, Winston always tried to find another hour to pursue his new and, perhaps, the most powerful hobby. He painted everywhere: in ministerial offices and royal chambers, in the desert of Marrakech and on the coast of France, on English meadows and Canadian lakes, sunny beaches and in fishing villages.

In September 1927, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, Churchill was invited to the Scottish royal residence of Balmoral for a weekend. Winston spent most of the weekend at his easel, painting a churchyard from a photograph. cathedral Saint Paul. In a conversation with the personal secretary of King George V, Lord of Stamfordham, he admits:
“I enjoyed my time at Balmoral. I am very glad that His Majesty has given me permission to use the ministerial quarters as a studio, and I have taken every precaution not to stain the Victorian tartan.

Leaving Balmoral, Winston, at the request of the king, will give his painting to the local charitable society, which will put it up for auction for sale. Churchill will be pleasantly surprised to learn that during the auction the price of the painting reached 120 pounds, exceeding even his wildest expectations.
Painting classes did not always end as harmlessly as in Balmoral. In March 1921, during the Cairo conference, Winston decided to visit the pyramids, going there on camels with Clementine, Lawrence of Arabia, Gertrude Bell and his permanent bodyguard Walter Thomson. A correspondent for Palestine Weekly wrote at the time: “While boarding a camel, Mr. Churchill lost his balance and fell to the ground. Despite the laceration he received as a result of the fall, he continued his journey and even managed to make some sketches of the Sahara desert.

In fact, things could have been much worse. Churchill, then the colonial minister, was very unpopular with the Egyptians. Stones were thrown at his train, and movement by car was greeted with angry shouts and abuse. But Winston ignored them. He defiantly sat down on one of the streets and began to draw, along the way explaining to the generals accompanying him that painting should never be abandoned. Winston usually spoke so loudly that the military was much more concerned about security issues than art.

But this time everything worked out. In London, much more interested listeners were waiting for Churchill. In 1921, The Strand Magazine invited Winston to write an article about his new hobby. Unlike her husband, who seized on the idea, Clementine was skeptical of such a proposal. It was not enough to be ridiculed by art historians and professional artists. Trying to convince his wife, Churchill will tell her:
- Clemmy! My article is completely unrelated to politics, therefore, and should not be criticized because of my political views. For example, Mr. Balfour's articles on golf and philosophy or Mr. Bonar Law on chess would have been well received.
- It is impossible that only your reproductions were used in the article, and someone else would write the text itself?
– I promise that I will make it very easy and entertaining, without offending professional artists. On the contrary, I am going to encourage everyone else to get the same pleasure in painting when they pick up brushes.

Churchill would write an article, "Painting as a Pastime," which would appear in the December and January issues of The Strand Magazine for 1921 and 1922. Simultaneously with Winston, Granville Wodehouse, Edgar Welles, Arthur Conan Doyle, and Enrico Caruso will also present their contributions to the magazine.
In 1924, already Chancellor of the Exchequer, Churchill received an offer from Nash's Pall Mall Magazine to write a more general article on his hobbies. The new article, more than half of which will be devoted to painting, will receive the modest title "Hobby". In 1926, the American magazine Cosmopolitan, as well as Nash's Pall Mall Magazine, which is part of the empire of the famous newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst, will publish this article in an abridged version under the title "When life tires me, I turn to a hobby."

Three years later, after finalizing the original text of the article "Painting as a Pastime", Churchill would submit it to the "One Hundred Best English Essays" compiled by his close friend F. E. Smith. Explaining his desire to include this material in the collection, F. E. Smith remarks:
– This article by Winston is Churchill in his at its best- with an open character, a bright talent for expression and a freshness of intellectual challenge.
In 1930 the complete version of The Hobby will be published in The Sunday Chronicle under the heading "Human Interests".

Unlike 1921 and even more so 1924, when Churchill served as Minister of the Exchequer, the publications of 1930 and the subsequent decade were not so much advertising as material. After the financial collapse and the loss of the post of Chancellor of the Exchequer, Winston found himself unemployed, apart from legislative activity in the lower house of parliament. The only means of subsistence were articles and books coming out from under his pen, and each publication in this case was worth its weight in gold. In 1932, two articles by Churchill, "Hobby" and "Painting as a Pastime", will be included in an abridged form in the collection of his essays "Thoughts and Adventures", which brought their author both moral and material satisfaction.
After the war, the situation will change again. Now Churchill was, as they say, "snapped up". In 1946, The Strand Magazine will publish another publication of his articles, decorated with reproductions. recent works. The following year, publisher John Benn would suggest that Winston combine his materials into a separate "colorful book" "Painting as a Pastime", which would be released in 1948.
Even for an author as famous as Churchill, the book will be a huge success, going through numerous reprints, as well as translations into French, German, Finnish, and even Japanese languages. Despite all the abundance of circulation, all these publications used abridged versions of the author's text. The first complete edition in the eighty years since The Strand Magazine was released will not be published until 2003 by David Combs in his book The Life of Sir Winston Churchill through His Painting. Thanks to the painstaking work carried out by Combs over a period of almost forty years, it was possible not only to restore the original text, but also for the first time to compile a complete catalog of Churchill's paintings.

Returning to the very text of the article, it must be said that Winston was cunning when he said that his article would become "very easy and entertaining." "Painting as a pastime" contains not only the personal impressions of the author. Most of it is occupied by his own reflections on painting, artistic technique and others aesthetic issues. For example, Churchill draws a parallel between painting and military art. And the main thing for him here is not so much similar principles as the approach itself. Before starting a battle, a plan is developed and a so-called strategic reserve is determined. In the case of painting, the proportions and ratio of individual elements are determined. Both the artist and the commander are equally painstakingly preparing for the upcoming action.

In his work, Churchill tries to define the boundaries of the artistic trinity - artist, painting, nature - and calls for a scientific approach in analyzing the role of visual memory in life creative people. The last theme will be enthusiastically picked up by the famous historian and art critic Ernst Gombrich.
Art is art, but life dictated its immutable conditions and rules to Winston. The “wonderful and terrible” year 1921 will prepare Churchill for more severe trials than falling from a camel or the hostility of critics. In the spring Winston's mother Jenny, still as fond of parties and balls as of many years ago, would accept Lady Francis Horner's invitation and go to her estate in Somerset. She had just returned from Rome, where she had bought herself the "finest shoes from the best Italian artisans."
The new reception came in very handy, giving her the perfect opportunity to show off her new purchase. When all the guests had already gathered for tea, Jenny put on Italian shoes and ran down the old stairs. Three steps before the end, she slipped and, losing her balance, fell.
“I didn’t see what happened myself,” Lady Horner recalls, “I heard only the sound of a fall and a scream. Jenny couldn't get up. I put pillows under her back and legs and called the doctor. He arrived a quarter of an hour later and discovered that she had a serious fracture of her left leg.
The injury was indeed serious. Both bones of the leg above the ankle were broken. At first everything was fine, but two weeks later the area of ​​skin over the fracture turned black and gangrene began. Jenny's temperature rose sharply. Fearing for his mother's health, Winston sent for a surgeon. During a small consultation, the issue of leg amputation was resolved. When this was reported to Lady Randolph, she called the surgeon to her and said in a decisive voice:
“The only thing I ask of you is to cut high enough to avoid a second operation.

The leg was amputated above the knee.

Lady Randolph took it stoically. When Eleanor Warrender visited her, Jenny greeted her friend with a joke:
“You see, dear, now I can’t get up on the wrong foot.
Two weeks after the operation, on June 23, Winston telegraphed to one of his relatives: "The danger has definitely passed, the temperature is gradually decreasing." And less than a week later, on June 29, the crisis hit. No sooner had Jenny finished her breakfast than she began to bleed violently from her amputated leg.
- Sister! Sister! cried Lady Randolph. - I'm bleeding.
Before the nurse could apply the tourniquet, Jenny had lost too much blood. Winston will immediately rush to her, not even having time to change his pajamas, but she will already fall into a coma and, without regaining consciousness, will die a few hours later.

The death of "the last of the Victorians," as Asquith put it, would be an ordeal for Churchill. Despite her extravagance, which seemed excessive even for such a spendthrift as Winston, and numerous marriages - after an unsuccessful marriage to Cornwellis West in 1918, sixty-four-year-old Jenny married Montague Corruption, who was three years younger than her eldest son - Churchill continued to love his "dear mother". As her cousin remarked, during the funeral ceremony held on July 2 at Bladon, "Winston and Jack looked widowed." The only thing that consoled Churchill was that "the end was quick and painless." Had Lady Randolph survived, she would have had to have her leg amputated again due to sudden bleeding. So death in this case was more like deliverance. On June 1, Winston said touching words to Lady Aislington:
“At least she no longer suffers from pain and will never know old age, infirmity and loneliness. Jack and I miss her very much, but as for her, I don't think she's lost much. Long trials lay ahead of her, at the end of which she could only hope for a short respite. It is a pity that you did not see her resting in peace after all the joys and storms of her life. She seemed beautiful and majestic.

Before Churchill had time to recover from one loss, after only a month and a half, a new blow awaited him. Wanting his children to rest a little and breathe in the sea air, Winston sends them with a young French nanny, Mademoiselle Rose, to Broadstairs, Kent. A cheerful correspondence with a list of the usual resort trifles and amusements was interrupted by disturbing news - his beloved Marigold, who was not yet three years old, had caught a bad cold. The poor thing has never been in good health, constantly suffering from pharyngitis, then prolonged bouts of coughing.
Conflicting reports began to arrive from the coast - either they reported that she had become much better, then that her condition worsened again. Sensing that something was wrong, Clementine quickly went to Broadstairs. Marigold was weakening before her eyes. There was no question of any transportation to London. It remained only to hope for a local doctor, who turned out to be insufficiently competent. Soon Churchill also came to them, along with the best specialist from London. However, it was already too late. After an acute sore throat, blood poisoning began, leaving no chance of salvation. In the early morning of August 23, "dear cutie," as the wife liked to call her daughter, died. Churchill sat at the head of her bed, tears rolling down his cheeks; Clementine, on the other hand, "screamed like a dying animal."
It was the third loss in the Churchill family in less than five months. In April, Clementine's brother Bill Hosier committed suicide in a Paris hotel, Lady Randolph tragically died in June, and now also Marigold.
“With her death, we have suffered a heavy and painful loss,” Winston will remark to one of his friends. - It is a pity that such a young life is forced to end its existence when it is still so beautiful and happy.

Marigold was buried on the 26th at London's Kensal Green Cemetery. In addition to family members and close friends, the ceremony was also attended by photographers from local newspapers. They seized the moment and took some memorable pictures, but at the request of Winston, none of the photos were published. A year will pass, and a new child, Mary, will be born in the Churchill family, in the autumn of 1921 they had to get used to the heavy loss.

Winston went to Scotland to stay at the castle of his friend the Duke of Sutherland. Like six years before, in a moment of despair, Churchill would turn to paint again, trying to find peace of mind and peace in his leisurely painting of local landscapes. While the guests were having fun on the tennis court, Winston methodically went out to the open air, completely surrendering himself to the power of creativity. He confesses to his wife:
– This afternoon I drew a beautiful river with dark red and gold hills in the background.
Years will pass, but the Churchill couple will never be able to forget this pain. Clemmy will blame herself for not being able to save the poor baby in time, while Winston, with his usual sentimentality, will sob touchingly every time he mentions his fourth child. When, during World War II, Churchill's first private secretary, Sir Leslie Rowan, marries and asks Winston how many children to have, Churchill, wise by bitter experience, will answer:
“Definitely at least four.
And then, after some thought, he adds:
“One for the mother, one for the father, one for the growth of the family, and one in case of misfortune.
Having recovered from the loss of loved ones, Churchill continued to follow the winding paths of politics and his own creativity. In both cases, different people met on his way. And if, thanks to numerous biographers and memoirs of contemporaries, the figures of politicians are clearly visible, then colleagues on the easel and brush remain in the shadows. Who were those people who helped Winston in his artistic experiments? The name of Sir John Lavery has already been mentioned above. Churchill was also greatly influenced as a painter by Walter Richard Sickert, British artist, who studied in his youth with Degas himself. He seemed to be a direct thread that connected the second quarter of the twentieth century with the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists.

Sickert became one of the close friends of Clementine's mother Lady Blanch Hosier, having met her in Dieppe, where she lived with her children at the turn of the century. Many years later, Clementine confesses to Mary's youngest daughter that, secretly from her mother, she admired their new friend's talent. She could stand for hours and watch Walter create another picture. After Dieppe, their paths will diverge for twenty-seven years.
In 1927, an accident will happen to Clementine. Crossing the road in London, she will fall under the bus. Although Clementine received minor bruises, this incident will be described in detail in many newspapers, from which Sickert will learn about what happened. Deeply shocked, he decides to visit Clementine, who at that moment lives at number 11 Downing Street. When she sees Walter, she will be incredibly surprised, but her husband will be even more delighted, since from the very first minutes of communication with Sickert he managed to find a common language with him. Over time, they would become close friends, more than once practicing painting together - first at Churchill's residence as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and then at his country house in Chartwell.
Sickert will teach Winston how to prepare a canvas for work, how to use several levels for solid tones, how to use photographs as a reminder when drawing a picture, and how to transfer the image of a photograph to a canvas while maintaining the existing proportions. Work with photographs will be very timely, especially after Churchill's close friend, Professor Frederick Lindemann, will give him the latest camera model for those times. For Winston, who did not have an artistic education and was not familiar with the intricacies of drafting, Sickert's advice was more than useful. In one of his conversations with his wife, Churchill confesses to her:
“You know, Clemmy, I am deeply moved by the horizons that Walter opened up. I see that I began to draw much better. He really helped me a lot.

The influence of Sickert is especially felt in such works by Churchill as the portrait of Lord Balfour and his niece, the portrait of the Duke of Westminster, as well as the famous painting “Tea Party at Chartwell”. It is noteworthy that most of the paintings of this period were portraits.

In addition to Lavery and Sickert, Churchill's development as a painter would be greatly influenced by his old acquaintance, the French painter Paul Meise. They met back in 1916 in the trenches of the First World War, when Mays was assigned as a communications sergeant to the British Expeditionary Forces and used his artistic abilities to fix the smallest details unfamiliar areas. In 1934, Paul will ask an old friend to write a preface to his war memoirs, to which Winston will gladly agree. Maze would later acquire a property in England, which would bring them closer together.
In the 1930s, Churchill often liked to stay at the St. George Motel, which was located near the small town of Dreux and was owned by the spouses Consuela and Jacques Balzan. They often had celebrities - artists, writers, musicians, including such regular guests as Churchill and Maze. One day, when Winston was about to make another sketch of the local landscape, Consuela invited Paul Mays and three other artists to lunch. Not at all embarrassed by the presence of professionals, Churchill not only began to paint defiantly, but also attracted them to his studies.
“So, Paul, you will paint the trees,” Winston said in a loud voice, handing out four brushes, “you, Segonjac, the sky, you, Simon Levy, the water, you, Marchand, the landscape, and I will look after you.

As a result, an unusual picture was born, which became the collective fruit of creativity.
In 1933, Churchill met another master of painting, Sir William Nicholson. He had just arrived at Chartwell on the recommendation of friends to sketch the idyll of the Churchills' family life, who in April 1933 celebrated their silver wedding anniversary. Their relationship was not limited to this work. Nicholson would visit Chartwell frequently, making, according to Winston's daughter Sarah, many "small and amusing sketches of our house". Churchill himself told his friend Sir John Rosenstein:
– I think that the person who taught me the most about painting is William Nicholson.
This is especially noticeable when Winston turned to soft tones that were uncharacteristic for him.
Among Churchill's acquaintances were not only professional artists. For example, his bodyguard from 1950 to 1965, Edmund Murray, also liked to paint in oils. Not surprisingly, the two gentlemen quickly hit it off. Sergeant Murray constantly accompanied his boss on numerous trips and was one of the few who was next to him during his entry into the open air. It was to him that Winston entrusted the honorable mission of taking photographs of those places that later became the themes of his paintings.
In general, photographs were an important part artistic activity Winston, who liked to use them as a source for his paintings. As one of Churchill's valets, Norman McGowan, recalled:
– He often bought high-quality photographs in France and Italy, these were various buildings, trees and other objects that impressed him. In addition, we also took color photographs, so that on some overcast, stormy day in England, we can use them to recreate the color palette. Many of the paintings drawn by Winston during the holidays were little more than sketches and sketches, while the actual coloring took place, as a rule, weeks or months later in the studio.

Unlike politics and literature, where Churchill was more than confident in own forces But with painting it was different. Winston modestly assessed his own artistic achievements. He was always open to criticism and new ideas. Churchill was suspicious of praise, subconsciously realizing that his paintings were praised not only for artistic merits. However, there were exceptions. On January 10, 1921, Winston was invited to a dinner in Paris hosted by French politician Louis Loucher. The morning after the celebration, Churchill met with the newly elected President of the Third Republic, Alexander Millerand, to discuss matters with him. of Eastern Europe and the Middle East.

Leaving Paris the next day, Winston, together with his classmate at Harrow and Sandhurst, Major Gerald Geiger, visited art exhibition V famous gallery Drouet on Rue Royale. Churchill's attention was attracted by a certain artist, Charles Morin. For a long time he stood near his paintings, studying the technique of the painter and carefully listening to the criticism expressed by connoisseurs. Geiger could not understand anything. He knew about Winston's hobby, but how could an unknown artist attract his attention? In fact, Charles Morin was hiding behind none other than Churchill himself. He sent several paintings to the exhibition and was quite surprised when he learned that six of them were sold, making him now not only a highly paid journalist, but also a "well-selling artist."
The triumph in Paris had its continuation in London. In 1925, at an exhibition among non-professional artists at the Sunderlandhouse, Curzon Street, Winston's work, dedicated to his beloved Chartwell, "Winter Sunlight" won first place. As during the French exhibition, Churchill's name also did not stand under the presented canvas. Only if Winston himself wanted this in Paris, then in London the organizers of the event spoke out for anonymity, wishing to make the assessments of the paintings as objective as possible.

The jury included the famous art patron Sir Joseph Davin, the young art historian Kenneth Clare and the portrait painter Sir Oswald Birley. When the fate of Churchill's painting was being decided, Davin expressed doubts that "Winter Sunshine" was painted by an amateur, it was too good. An infrequent case when an attempt to remove a picture from the competition would be so pleasant to its author. Whatever it was, but the picture remained, bringing Winston a well-deserved success, and the jury - a mixed feeling of surprise and shame when they learned the name of its author.

Turning to painting in difficult moments of his life, Churchill will remain faithful to her until the end of his days. An easel and paints will be his best antidepressants. Thanks to his new passion, Winston will find the strength to survive the 1930s - ten “desert” years without living water called activity. Such a severe test could bring anyone to their knees. Churchill, using one of the main attributes of any artist - an umbrella to protect himself from the Sun, was able to save himself from the ruthless rays of rejection and social isolation.

On September 3, 1939, the country will again turn to its hero. Putting aside the palette and colors for a while, Winston will once again enter the political arena to fight for his country and his ideals. As time will tell, this fight will be the most important in the half-century career of our wrestler. Painting, respectfully stepping aside, will begin to wait for its finest hour.

The Artist Winston Churchill

News from the art world

At the Sotheby`s auction in London, the canvas "Goldfish Pond in Chartwell", written by British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, went under the hammer for $ 2.8 million, reports the Associated Press. In the title photo, this picture hangs over the fireplace. In total, 15 paintings of his authorship were put up for auction.
Winston Churchill remains in British history as one of the most influential statesmen and one of the greatest wartime leaders of the 20th century. He was Prime Minister of the United Kingdom from 1940-1945, and a short time later again from 1951-1955. In addition, Churchill was an officer in the British army, historian, writer and artist. Churchill became the only British Prime Minister to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature and the first to be given the title of Honorary Citizen of the United States.
1. The rarities for sale belonged to Lady Soames, née Mary Spencer-Churchill, the youngest of the five children of Winston Churchill and his wife Clementine. During the war, Mary received the rank of junior officer, later helping her father during trips. In particular, she attended the Potsdam Conference, where her father discussed the future of Germany and Europe with American President Harry Truman and Chairman of the USSR Council of People's Commissars Joseph Stalin. Lady Soames wrote an award-winning biography of her mother and her own memoirs.

A VILLA AT THE RIVIERA

2. Things that went under the hammer surrounded Mary Soams in her house in London's Holland Park. A total of 15 Churchill paintings were up for auction, the most important and personal collection of the ex-prime minister's art ever to come to market.

THE HARBOR, CANNES

3. The head of the British government was fond of painting, but considered himself a mediocre artist. Therefore, he rarely signed his works.

MELLS, SOMERSETSHIRE

4. Despite this, now these paintings are sold and bought for a lot of money.

TAPESTRIES AT BLENHEIM

ITALIAN GARDEN AT SUTTON PLACE

MAGNOLIA

THE WEALD OF KENT UNDER SNOW, PAINTED FROM CHARTWELL

COAST SCENE NEAR LYMPNE IN SUMMER

SILVER LIFE

TEAU ST-GEORGES-MOTEL

VIEW OF BLENHEIM PALACE THROUGH THE BRANCHES OF A CEDAR

The collection was put on public display for four days in the halls of Sotheby's. About 4 thousand people came to see it. In addition to the works of Churchill himself, the collection included works by his artist friends, photographs, a cigar box, recordings of speeches, gifts from colleagues and subordinates of the Prime Minister.In total, more than 300 items associated with the name of an outstanding Englishman were put up for auction, in particular, a historical relic - Churchill's document box.