Modigliani's passionate love is the eccentric intellectual Beatrice Hastings. Beatrice Potter, her family and other animals In 1913 England lived Mrs. Beatrice
Where she hid, it was dark and a little scary, but the little girl tried to obey her mistress, who strictly forbade her to leave the shelter. As long as it's not safe, she should sit quietly, like a mouse in a pantry. The girl thought it was a game like hide-and-seek, bast shoes or "potatoes".
She sat behind wooden barrels, listened to the sounds coming from her and mentally drew a picture of what was happening. It was once taught to her by her father. The men all around were shouting loudly. The girl thought that these rough voices filled with sea and salt belonged to sailors. In the distance, booming ship horns, piercing ship whistles and the splash of oars were heard, and above, spreading their wings and absorbing the spilling sunlight, gray gulls roared.
The mistress promised to return soon, and the girl was very much looking forward to this. She hid so long that the sun moved across the sky and warmed her knees, penetrating through her new dress. The girl listened to see if the lady's skirts rustled on the wooden deck. Usually her heels clattered and always hurried somewhere, not at all like her mother's. The girl remembered her mother, absently, briefly, as it should be for a child who is dearly loved. When will she come? Then thoughts returned to the mistress. She had known her before, and her grandmother spoke of her, calling her a Writer. The writer lived in a small house on the outskirts of the estate, behind a thorny labyrinth. But the girl was not supposed to know about this. Her mother and grandmother forbade her to play in the maze and approach the cliff. It was dangerous. Yet sometimes, when no one looked after her, the girl liked to break the taboos.
A sunbeam broke between two barrels, and hundreds of dust particles danced in it. The girl held out her finger, trying to catch at least one. The writer, the cliff, the labyrinth, and her mother left her thoughts in an instant. She laughed as she watched the dust particles fly close before they swept away.
Suddenly, the sounds around him changed, the steps quickened, the voices rang with excitement. The girl bent down, caught in a curtain of light, pressed her cheek against the cool wood of the barrels and peered through the boards with one eye.
She revealed someone's legs, shoes, hems of petticoats, tails of multi-colored paper ribbons fluttering in the wind. Cunning seagulls scoured the deck in search of crumbs.
The great ship tilted and roared low, as if from the depths of its womb. The girl held her breath and pressed her hands to the floor. A wave of hesitation swept across the boards of the deck, reaching her fingertips. A moment of uncertainty - and the ship strained away from the pier. There was a farewell beep, a wave of joyful cries and wishes of “Bon voyage” swept through. They went to America, to New York, where her dad was born. The girl often heard adults whispering about leaving. Mom convinced dad that there was nothing more to wait and that they needed to leave as soon as possible.
The girl laughed again: the ship cut through the water like the giant whale Moby Dick from the story that her father often read. Mom didn't like those stories. She considered them too scary and said that there should be no place in her daughter's head for such thoughts. Dad invariably kissed Mom on the forehead, agreed with her and promised to be more careful in the future, but continued to read to the girl about a huge whale. There were other favorite stories from the fairy tale book. They talked about orphans and blind old women, about long journeys across the sea. Dad asked me not to tell mom. The girl herself understood that these readings must be kept secret. Mom didn’t feel well anyway, she got sick even before the birth of her daughter. Grandmother often reminded the girl that she needed to behave well, since her mother should not be upset. Something terrible can happen to mom, and only the girl will be to blame for everything. The girl kept a secret of fairy tales, games near the labyrinth and the fact that her father took her to visit the Writer. She loved her mother and did not want to upset her.
Someone pushed the barrel aside, and the girl closed her eyes against the sun's rays. She blinked until the owner of the voice blotted out the light. It was a big boy, eight or nine years old.
You're not Sally, he concluded, looking at her.
The girl shook her head.
According to the rules of the game, she must not reveal her name to strangers.
He wrinkled his nose and the freckles on his face came together.
And why is that?
The girl shrugged. It was also impossible to talk about the Writer.
Where is Sally then? The boy began to lose patience. He looked around. - She ran here, I'm sure.
Suddenly, laughter swept across the deck, there was a rustle and quick steps. The boy's face brightened.
Quicker! It won't get away!
The girl stuck her head out from behind the barrel. She watched the boy dive through the crowd, engrossed in chasing a whirlwind of white petticoats.
Her toes even itch, she so wanted to play with them.
“I was sitting across from him. He smoked hashish and drank brandy. Not impressed. I didn't know him at all. Unshaven, sloppy and drunk. But soon I met him again at the Rotunda. This time he was gallant and charming. He raised his hat in greeting, and, embarrassed, asked me to come to his studio to see the work. I went"
Modigliani was popular with women, he often fell in love and had affairs. But his most passionate love was Beatrice Hastings.
Modigliani was already 30 when he met Beatrice. He was a painter and sculptor with a bad reputation. His works were not sold, and if someone bought them, then no more than 20 francs. Modigliani had his own artistic style, his work did not belong to any of the popular trends of that time.
35-year-old Beatrice was not at all like an innocent young girl, although she carefully concealed her age and all the details of her personal life.
She was born in London, the son of a large landowner, and was the fifth child of seven. Shortly after the birth of their daughter, the family emigrated to Africa.
Beatrice grew up inquisitive and talented. She showed an extraordinary talent for singing in a wide range (she could sing both bass and high soprano), and later learned to play the piano. The girl composed poems and even tried herself as a circus rider.
Amedeo and Beatrice first met in July 1914 at the Rotunda Cafe. They were presented by the sculptor Osip Zadkine. In Paris, Beatrice was known as a poet, at that time she worked as a correspondent for the London magazine The New Age.
Beatrice's memories of Modigliani, like the memories of his close friends, helped shape the idea of the artist - his character, habits and experiences.
Amedeo and Beatrice were a very strange couple. Beatrice is a slender, elegant blonde in a defiant hat, Amedeo is a shorter, swarthy brunette, dressed in picturesque rags, vaguely reminiscent of what was once a velvet suit.
Muse Modigliani
For several years, Modigliani was engaged only in sculpture and only occasionally painted pictures. Modigliani's final return to painting coincided with the beginning of his love affair with Beatrice Hastings, who became the model for numerous canvases. He drew her with different hairstyles, in hats, standing at the piano, at the door.
One of the most famous portraits of Beatrice Hastings is The Amazon, painted by Modigliani in 1909.
Troubled lives of lovers
Their relationship quickly developed into a stormy, passionate and scandalous romance. She was convinced that she could not belong to anyone, and he was fiercely jealous, often without reason: it was enough that Beatrice spoke to someone in English.
Opinions differ about how Beatrice influenced Amedeo's destructive addictions. Some argue that she kept him from drinking, while others, on the contrary, believe that Beatrice herself was not against whiskey and therefore they got drunk together.
It is not surprising that fists and various objects were often used during scandals. Once there was a whole battle, during which Amedeo chased Beatrice around the house with a flower pot, and she defended herself with a long broom. But high-profile scandals ended in the same high-profile reconciliation.
Disputes often arose on the basis of creativity. So, Beatrice argued that only other people can objectively evaluate the work, which was fundamentally at odds with the opinion of Amedeo, who considered himself the best critic of his works. In February 1915, in one of her articles in the New Age, Beatrice even wrote that she had found and taken a stone head made by Modigliani in a garbage can, and now she would not give it to anyone for any money.
Beatrice was a strong, independent woman. Without remorse, she entered into an affair with another man, the Italian sculptor Alfredo Pina, which hurt Modigliani very much.
Beatriz and Amedeo were together for two years. The novel ended at the initiative of Beatrice.
Hello. Today I want to tell you about an incredible woman named Beatrix Potter (Helen Beatrix Potter)- the famous children's writer and artist.
She was born on July 28, 1866 in England.
She is known to everyone as a talented author of children's fairy tales and an artist - she illustrated all her books herself). The main characters of her stories have always been animals, and this is not strange, becauseBeatrice was very fond of animals and studied them all her life. When she was little, frogs, mice, a hedgehog, newt Isaac Newton and even a bat lived in her nursery. Beatrice watched them and drew. And her drawings kept getting better and better. By the time she began to depict her characters dressed in dresses, frock coats and caftans, the animals in the pictures seemed to come to life. Beatrice had two domestic rabbits, to which she dedicated many illustrations. One of them, Peter Push (Peter Rabbit), she drove on a leash and took it with her everywhere, even on the train. She dressed him in a blue jacket and wrote her first fairy tale about him with her own illustrations - the most famous in the whole world.
Beatrix Potter's journey as a writer and artist began in 1902year, when the publisher Frederick Warne published The Tale of Peter Rabbit - The Tale of Peter Rabbit. Previously, several publishers have abandoned the small book. Up to 1910Beatrice wrote, drew and published an average of two books a year.
The fees gave her some independence, although she still lived with her parents. IN 1905Beatrice's publisher Norman Warne proposed to her. Beatrice agreed to marry, but a few weeks later Warne died of blood cancer . In the same year, she bought Hill Top Farm in the village of Soray. After Norman's death, she tried to spend as much time there as possible. Views of the farm and the surrounding nature began to appear in the form of illustrations for her books. IN 1913At forty-seven years old, Beatrice married the notary William Hillis and began to live in the village of Sorey permanently.
In 2006, the film of the same name "Miss Potter" was released, where the role of Beatrice was played by actress Renee Zellweger. This is a very touching and soulful film about the life of Beatrice. About how difficult it is for a talented woman of her time to become independent and successful.
Madam, push a little more, it's almost over! - exclaimed the midwife, holding the baby's head. - I can no longer! - Shouted a beautiful woman with long peach hair and piercing, dark blue eyes. - Now die! - She continued, experiencing labor pains. - That's all! The woman said and smiled. - What a beautiful boy! Looks a lot like you! she added, wrapping the boy in soft cloth. But looking at the belly of a young mother, she realized herself and gave the firstborn into the hands of her assistant, and she herself began to continue to help the woman give birth. - It seems you will have triplets or twins. The midwife smiled. - I can't stand it! - Feeling that the second child began to push. - Take a deep breath! - The woman ordered. - Push! - She shouted, and when she saw the head of the second child, she began to cheer the young mother even more. - Well done! - She said, wrapping the second child in a diaper. Having given the child to another assistant, she turned to the girl. - Who is it? - Asked the girl, looking at the midwife with a tired look. - Boy, dear. - The girl answered. - What is your name? - She asked, seeing that the third child had gone. - Beaatrice! she exclaimed, and began to push again. - So, Beatrice, don't forget to breathe. The midwife reminded me. - Come on, a little more, you can already see the head! she exclaimed. - I can't! shouted Beatrice, closing her eyes tightly and holding two white canvases in her hands, squeezing them tightly. - Well done! the midwife exclaimed. - She gave birth to three children, not everyone can endure it. She complimented Beatrice. - Who was born? - She asked, gradually closing her eyes. - Who? she repeated again. The most beautiful girl I have ever seen in the world! - The midwife answered, wiping the girl from the blood. Swaddling the baby, she put the girl in the third bed, next to her older brothers. Noticing that Beatrice had fallen asleep from fatigue, she went out the door and saw Karl Heinz, next to whom stood a woman with purple hair and bright green eyes. - How did everything go? he asked, worried. - Everything is fine? he asked again. - Yes, everything went well, there were no complications, but the young lady was very tired and therefore fell asleep. - Said the midwife, wiping her hands with a towel. I see you will need my help later. - The woman smiled, looking at the small tummy of the woman who was standing next to Karl. - This is my second wife, - Cordelia. - He answered and smiled. - Who was born? he asked, taking the midwife's hands. The young lady gave birth to triplets. - The woman answered. - Come, look at your firstborn. - She added, and together with Carl and Cordelia went inside the room, which smelled of alcohol and other medicines. - Which one is which? - Asked the young father of the children. “Mistress Beatrice has given birth to two boys,” she said, and pointed with her hand to the first two beds, in which little boys snore. - And one girl. - She added and pointed to the third bed in which lay a cute girl and calmly looked at the man. - How beautiful she is. Carl gasped in surprise. - My little girl. - He said, taking the girl out of the crib and hugging her. Kissing the girl on the forehead, which made the latter smile with a toothless mouth, he laid her back in the crib. - We will choose the name together with Beatrice. He smiled and left the room with Cordelia.
A few hours later
Beatrice, you're finally awake! - Exclaimed Karl and squeezed the hand of his first wife. - You remember that vampires should have names from infancy, because they already understand everything at that age. He warned and smiled. - Yes I remember. She smiled back. What will we name our first child? - He asked and taking the boy in his arms with the same piercing dark blue eyes as his mother, he brought him to Beatrice. - Maybe ... - She thought, looking at her son. - Shu? she asked. - Gold leader? Yes? - He smiled. - I think he'll do. Do you like it, Shu? - Asked Carl, looking at his first son. The baby just smiled in response. Putting Shu next to his mother, he went to his second son. - So, come on, to my arms. Karl said. The kid was calm, lying and just looking at the faces of his parents. - I already know what we'll call it. - He said confidently. - And how? Beatrice asked, looking curiously at her husband. - Reiji, which means "Honest, calm." - He answered and gave his son into the arms of his wife, she in response kissed him on the forehead and put him next to her brother. - And here is our beautiful girl. - Karl said and took the girl in his arms and sat next to Beatrice. - You know, I was thinking, who does she look like? - Beatrice asked, carefully examining her daughter. - She doesn't look like me or you... Then who? - She thought and looked at Carl. - She is very similar to my mother. - He said looking at his daughter. - Here look. - It is not clear where, Karl took out a frame in which there was an incredibly beautiful photograph. It depicted a girl with long light pink hair and rich blue eyes, this girl was wearing an incredibly beautiful dress with a large bow on the strap, which had beautiful purple stones. - What a beautiful woman! Beatrice exclaimed and smiled. - She really looks like her. - Let's call her Shi, which means "Pearl". - He suggested and looked at Beatrice. - She will be our favorite and only pearl. - Beatrice said and smiling, she took two more sons and hugged her whole beloved family.
It's been two years
Mommy! - Exclaimed a girl who looked about five years old with long pale pink hair and beautiful blue eyes. She was wearing a dark pink dress that reached her knees. - What happened, my treasure? The woman smiled and hugged her daughter. - Mom, I don't want to leave my brothers. - Whimpering, the girl answered. - Well, what is it! Beatrice jokingly exclaimed. - Remember, you are Sakamaki Shi, my daughter! You must never cry. - She said proudly, looking at her daughter. - Okay, mommy. - The girl answered and stopped crying. - But I don't want to leave. - Persistently said the girl. - Shi, understand, you are already a big girl, and even more so, the only girl in the family and you need to be protected from bad people, so your brothers and I will protect you, and you will live with your dad for a few years, okay? - Beatrice told the story and, smiling, patted the girl on the head. - Yes. - Said the girl and smiled happily. - And now, run to your dad, he must have been waiting for you. Beatrice laughed. - Okay, Mom. - Said the girl and ran to the main entrance of the mansion. A pair of sad dark blue eyes stared after her. - My baby is growing, she will grow up to be a beautiful girl. Whispered Beatrice and smiled sadly. - Okay, you need to check on Shu, otherwise he will do something again. - She added and smiled, remembering her son's pranks. Rising from her knees, Beatrice brushed off her dress and looking in the direction of her departing daughter, she smiled and went towards the mansion, to her sons.
To be continued...
Here's what you can glean from the encyclopedic dictionary ...
Beatrice Hastings (May 12, 1879, London - October 30, 1943, Worthing, West Sussex) - English poetess and literary critic, one of Amedeo Modigliani's muses, who lived with him in the same apartment in Montparnasse ... and was a model for several of his paintings .
They met in June 1914. The talented and eccentric Englishwoman Beatrice, five years older than Amedeo, had already managed to try herself in the field of a circus artist, journalist, poetess, traveler, art critic, and there were many more attempts to "find herself." Anna Akhmatova will write about her later : "Another tightrope dancer..."
They immediately became inseparable. Modigliani went to live with her.
So, in order..
Beatrice Hastings (Eng. Beatrice Hastings, real name - Emily Alice Haigh) was born May 12, 1879 in London.
She was married but divorced her husband, became fascinated with mysticism, published some rather acrimonious critiques, and then began to write poetry herself. Much of her work before World War I was published in the British literary magazine New Age under various pseudonyms, she was in close relationship with the editor of the magazine R. Orage. She was a friend of Katherine Mansfield, whose work was first published in The New Age. After some time, she moved to Paris and became a famous character in the bohemian circles of Paris due to her friendship with Max Jacob (writer), who introduced them to Amedeo.
It was rumored that Beatrice was unconsciously in love with Amedeo, trying to save him from drunkenness and poverty .. It was also rumored that Beatrice drank much more than the artist himself ..
One way or another, Beatrice at that time served as the artist's main source of inspiration.
Modigliani's romance with Beatrice was a typical bohemian romance - with immoderate libations, endless talk about art, scandals and brawls, crazy love. Quarreling daily and even using fists, they nevertheless lived for 2 years.
It was rumored that one day Modigliani threw Beatrice out of the window.
On another occasion, he himself told his friend, the sculptor Jacques Lipchitz, that Beatrice had beaten him with a rag, and admitted that during another scuffle, Beatrice grabbed his genitals with her hands and teeth as if she wanted to tear them off.
Sometimes, when Amedeo was seized by anxiety, anger, horror, Beatrice told him: "Modigliani, do not forget that you are a gentleman, your mother is a lady of high society." These words acted on him like a spell, and he fell silent, subsided.
In the Hastings archive, among the scattered records, the following was found:
"Once we had a whole fight, we chased each other around the house, up and down the stairs, and his weapon was a flower pot, and mine was a long broom."
The description of this and other similar scenes usually ended with the words: "How happy I was then in this hut in Montmartre! .."
When he was furious, usually because she noticed another man, he dragged her down the street by her hair.
During the heyday of their love, he created some of the most significant works: portraits of Diego Rivera, Jean Cocteau, Leo Bakst, and, of course, portraits of Beatrice herself. It was during the war years and the romance with Beatrice Modigliani that some success was achieved.
In 1914 Paul Guillaume began to buy the artist's works. In 1916 this “art dealer” was replaced by a native of Poland, Leopold Zborowski.
For the first time with her, Modigliani felt that "sensuality in painting is as necessary as a brush and paint, without it, portraits turn out to be sluggish and lifeless"
A. Modigliani Portrait of Beatrice Hastings in front of doors
She wrote about her attitude to the work of Modigliani in the New Age magazine (New Age) in 1915: “I have a stone head by Modigliani, which I would not agree to part with for a hundred pounds, despite the current general financial crisis ... This head with a calm smile, embodies wisdom and madness, deep mercy and slight sensitivity, numbness and voluptuousness, illusions and disappointment, locking all this in itself as an object of eternal reflection.This stone is read as clearly as Ecclesiastes, only its language is comforting, because there is no gloomy hopelessness in this threatening, bright smile of wise balance.
Beatrice ran away from Modigliani in 1916. Since then, they have not seen each other again.