Famous photographer, fashion designer, daughter of poet Robert Rozhdestvensky – Ekaterina Rozhdestvenskaya wrote a book called “the Balcony on Kutuzov” (in “Eksmo”). According to the author, this memory for many time 1960s, which accounted for her childhood. We publish a fragment of the book, which tells how the family of the future poetic celebrity of communal on Cook moved to individual housing.

All went to the fact that within two or three months we had to move to a new apartment. On the one hand, the family of the young poet Robert Epiphany it was time to get out of the communal basement and live your own life, and with another yard on Cook absolutely was not going to let go.

the Spring started early, zabureli drifts, whistling birds, zateplilas sun, holding icicles, and most importantly, launched our Soviet man in space!

“Moscow speaking! Moscow Says! — wheezing of radiodensity of the basement Windows. — All radio stations of the Soviet Union and the Central television! TASS. Today, April 12, 1961, in 10 hours 23 minutes Moscow time in the Soviet Union made the world’s first manned flight into space…”

these Words of solemn listened to in the yard all together, and ancient Fields with Marta, the most that neither is the locals, an important and respectable men in hats and suits and such in the yard, too, things, and the women and immature young people, and quite small boys, while standing behind mommy’s skirt, and each restrained excitement breath like breath all at once deeper and more clearly, Yuri Gagarin surprise would be kind of awkward to spin the wheel and lose orbit.

And all the neighbors chorus from proud because of this great news that, Yes, they say, we, the Soviet people, the first always and in everything — in sports and in ballet, and now in the space stepped over, wiped his nose to the capitalists! Men a long time then gathered on benches in the yard, although it is uncharacteristic of them, smoked cigarettes and smiled, bursting with joy for allowing them to be born and to live in this great beautiful country. The children also didn’t waste any time — put the bucket on the head, straddled the broom and MOP, thinking that steel is very similar to astronauts, such as wearing helmets and riding on the rocket, and began to run round the yard after orbiting the earth in the center of which the sun was setting a monument to Tolstoy.

During the spring and early summer there are many beautiful songs about space, a brand new word is quickly and firmly entered into the everyday life and became, though ordinary, but with a touch of festivity. Especially often sounded the anthem of the cosmonauts.

I believe, friends, Caravans of rockets will Rush us forward From star to star. On the dusty paths of the Distant plan�� Will remain our tracks. On the dusty paths of Far planets Remain our footprints!

It was pitiful to pull in the evenings, even Yuri – policeman, who, after drinking a couple of glasses of port wine, lead the singing, hiccuping and patrakeeva, on the dusty paths and tracks which he always somewhere to leave.

Here zakolosilis and summer weather established from hot, and from the beginning of June, and by July in the courtyard bloomed already everything that somehow could show what they are capable — even asters around the Windows Pechenkina got out early and spread out along the walls with his purple and light crimson hedgehog. Though they were previously, the asters, then.

Golden balls rose in his mighty two meters tall and crowned with cheerful yellow caps. Bloomed and smelled of tea roses, old Mar were big, fed, clipped, and talked, and they spoke with all the barbed tea and pink souls. The magical smell of these several bushes enough for the whole yard and every family in it, still remained outside the fence — Cooking and a corner Garden. Incredibly softly and sweetly was beginning to smell right, as was done a few steps from the old Shoe shop on the corner of Garden and further down the street. And the Chinese in this summer sprinkled red apples beyond measure all its branches, bent them Dale, rassvetu garden impossibly red. Even Yurkin nettle, and that were filled, were sairala, dressed up meaningless little flowers and rose above it, hiding never washed and spotted with flies in a natural glass veil.

Robert, already known by the time the poet sent, or rather brought a letter with a request to increase the living space in the Secretariat of the Union of writers. Then all matters are dealt with only in writing, so that was where to put the signature and to leave the sweeping of the resolution: “Allow” or “Deny”.

I Ask, they say, to provide my family of five, he wrote, a new apartment given the fact that two (Epiphany Robert Ivanovich and Kireevskaya Alla) are members of the Union of Soviet writers and need under the law to additional living space. To specify this was necessary otherwise could not be taken into account.

the Chiefs esteemed, thought and thought and on paper beautifully brought: “Allow!” — Robert was already the author of many books on solid, so to speak, the poet, albeit very young. How can you refuse?

Began to consider options for the relocation of a young family — Robert Alla, young writers, their young daughter Katie and two members of the older generation leads, mother Alla, and Paulie, her grandmother. But the options were not so much.

the First address absolutely no one liked, even if just as an address — Sokolniki. Well, as you can from the very center of the square almost of Revolt, move to some, God forgive me, suburban Sokolniki! Although compared to the rest of the proposed locations and it also was quite possible to keep in mind. Three rooms in a communal apartment in the basement on Cook Robert Epiphany, again, as a budding young poet, offered three options, apparently, by the number of rooms. Address in Sokolniki district was the first there and went to watch a one-bedroom apartment in a new five-storey panel house. Though he stood in the quiet lanes, but there is not something with a hangar, not with the depot, and subway had to be able to reach. Lida-coward imagined that the evening after the theater or guests will be the one to go back on unlit roads and vacant lots, so flatly refused even to consider this option and blame it on her granddaughter.

— Catula and walk there nowhere, sheer ravines, the rails and locomotive whistles these at night. What about the stores? But for bread where to go? And pharmacy where, do you even know? Here’s what it is! Again through the gully to the metro! Yes, and the house has no Elevator, the climb to the floor?

the Second address was a fun apartment, but the area also out — of Allusa’ve always hated the Taganka, where a few lost months of my childhood went to the chaise to draw to a smoky lady-artist is quite ripe of age with glued “belomorinoy” on the lip. But it happened long before the school of the Bolshoi ballet. Lida then was full of anxieties about my daughter’s future — it is clear that it is necessary in art, but what is not yet understood. Tried and drawing. Timidly tried. The artist that had quite an impressive workshop, which left her husband, real strong artist-academics, and she, his student, in the old days, huddled to him, and along it to the Studio. On Tuesdays and Thursdays there now came dented-stale men and students-artists who write this bad half-dead nature. Venus and Apollo among them are not caught. A still life of Allusa otrisovka in the centre near the house on Taganka went on increasing. Studio Belomoina first time managed to find a fast madamina a tip that she perfectly explained her whereabouts on the phone: “When, darling, get out of the metro, will dive immediately into the darkness before you, where you will see a very unpresentable square with three impressive poplars and samakai with a broken back. At this skamejke surely someone will drink alcohol (Madame made the emphasis on the first letter). At least two people, maximum three. That’s directly from them turn right! There you will see my window with bars”.

the Nature of the Taganka Alla wrote only four times. The model was a grey, bony, eternally unshaven drunk sixty-year-old, whom Alena had well studied, spending on all pASTEL and trying to give his frail naked body any character, not just anatomically correct writing.

of course, I Wanted some diversity in nature, but claims there was no one: the job of the sitter is a complicated and poorly paid, so it was what it was. Especially since the drunk was distinguished by simplicity and good negativ before work due to Madame, could, in a second throwing off all my clothes, it’s easy to sit in a posture vacationer from 9 am until lunchtime. The theme of the portrait of Madame always called the same — “Transfigured sadness.” Not fully light, and so little enlightened. This sadness was enlightened, nobody understood, but, probably, the theme sounded a little more optimistic.

Yes, and the Taganka area can be called exactly the same — “transfigured sadness.” The boondocks, the mess, the dust, rising in the courtyard, even when no wind was observed — all of which is alien and joyless. But again with the “clearance” with the enlightened, so to speak, perspective. The prospect of this promised I had to wait and wait again to go through the vacant lots and construction, and Alena in these memories of Belomorye return is not very desirable. Although the proposed apartment on Taganka with balcony and good old General’s house with thick walls, columns and vases in the yard. But no, this district is also no one’s family was drawn.

Kutuzov Remained. This address was, of course, also not in the center — at the end of the Avenue on Poklonnaya hill was over the border of Moscow, which is clearly indicated was a large white sign with a crossed-out name of the city, and began the Mozhaisk highway with its Apple orchards, rustic houses, gardens and the cock cries. This version somehow lured more than others.