Original subtitles

Inspired by a true story

THE COLOR OF LIFE

I remember how it was.

I was lost.

Perhaps not lost, but without anchor and certain direction.

Like a character from a movie.

Hungry exile on a raft,

Looking over the waves he searches earth, live on hope.

But deep down, I felt that I am destined to become great.

It's not that I didn't want to to be noticed,

already as if I were destined to leave a mark on the world.

When I think back to that summer,

I remember the excitement deep inside.

Connections to something which has been leading me since birth.

In those moments of presence while I create,

I feel peaceful and sure.

I feel just right, I am overwhelmed by feelings,

most of the most beautiful that I have ever felt.

The downside is that it always exists some idiot who makes fun of you.

What a piece of shit!

The worst reviews usually come from those who have no idea

what do you do, who don't have no gift,

And they are jealous because are you happy,

and enjoy your skill.

Unless you do the world even uglier.

Then such persons will you happy to hold your hand,

and will dance with you in the septic tank claiming that you, just like them,

they realize how terrible everything is, and will enjoy celebrating it.

But I soon understood that every fool

can see how awful everything is.

She is not needed for that no skill.

This is a story for adults.

If you're a cynic, this not a good choice for you.

Cynics are mostly right. Romantics are generally not.

Romance needs to be right only once in a lifetime:

when he chooses true love.

I think this story is actually about love.

It's best not to say nothing more.

But then you wouldn't know Nikolay as I am.

And that would be unfair according to both of them.

PORT CHESTER, NEW YORK in 1974

Have you seen my son? - No, Mr. Talia.

It's probably worse, picture.

What did you say, Mikey? - Nothing, sir.

John!

God's sake! What are you doing?

John!

Do you like girls?

My dad was homophobic to the core.

When you find me with a brush in hand,

as if he found me to cuddling with someone else.

Why do you ask me such things?

You have a bunch of guy drawings which the thing sticks out.

It is difficult to draw shapes and shadows.

I don't do that I love boys, but to become a great artist.

Do it to me, and put them away.

Mum. - Yes, Johnny.

Tell me what you think.

She's lovely, Johnny.

She is really wonderful!

Do you have paint on your hands? - No, I washed them.

Hold her.

Should I wear it?

No, just put it close.

Like this? - Yes, let me see how it looks.

My mother was born in Wrocław, then in Germany.

She was sixteen years old when the allies entered Berlin.

She didn't have a childhood, she collected was shrapnel from the eleventh.

She was complicated and a tortured woman.

Although she hated what the Nazis were did to our country,

I think she was secretly cheering for Germans in war films.

She will be very beautiful.

Do you know that you are a talent? inherited from me?

Thank you.

It's really nice!

Johnny...

Don't use so much black.

Try to find the color in the trees.

And always look for colors in the shadows.

Purple, blue, green...

In other words, don't put so much black.

Thank you.

Always looking for structure. Everything has a structure.

Come on.

Do you see those poles?

Neither one is upright. Especially not in a good picture.

One is a little to the left, the second to the right.

Do you see the shadows across the street?

How they are related with the mass of the building?

I see. - Think abstractly.

Now I'm going to frame this for you.

I don't have money for gold plating.

Who says I'm going to charge you? - No services.

Pay the man. -Okay.

God.

It's Seroph. -I know.

Where did you get? - I'm framing her for Joe Canezira.

Where did the plumber come from? a picture like this?

They are not as expensive as before.

Why?

It is representative. -Well?

It is considered irrelevant.

Who thinks so? - Critics. Art magazines.

They can be worn, this is beautiful. -How do you express yourself!

How much is it worth? -I do not know.

Serof gave her for water supply repair.

Seriously? Live nearby? - Yes, in High Street.

Do you hear that, dad? - Yes, fantastic.

Do you know him?

No one, in fact, knows him. I met him several times.

Really?

If you're thinking of leaving to visit an old man,

I wouldn't recommend it.

Is he crazy, or is he different?

He's not really used to people. - I am not the people!

I like to talk about art. - Do you want to bother him?

Why do you think I bother people? - Because you bother.

I'm excited. - That Yemi, is he...

Is it okay? -What it means?

Is it OK? He is very sensitive.

Is he in the mood? - Don't pretend to be unskilled.

I do not understand what you want to say. What it means?

Do not speak. -Do not. Do not!

Who is?

Mr. Seroff?

What do you want?

I'm handsome, so you're staring at me?

Oh, you're a smart guy.

Do you want to work in the garden? Trimming the grass? Trees?

Not. -What does not"?

Are you Nikolai Seroff?

Shit. I did!

I read both of your books.

Really? - I think you are brilliant.

May be. - Yes, using color.

What you said about composition.

That trees are acts who dance on the hill.

That's what I said? - And that they are trees like rooted people.

We never go down into someone else's space.

That we should learn from nature. Not about lack, but about abundance.

Yes, you eat it.

We had a nice chat, kid.

Nikolai!

Pits here.

I we!

I'm all right.

I heard that a friend was over there to see you.

Yes, kid. His name is John. I think he is very talented.

He would like to come to you and conversations about painting.

Yes.

OK.

Goodnight.

He doesn't care.

What did he say?

It was short. - He doesn't care at all?

I would forget him in your place.

I understand he had a lot problems in life.

He was unbearable and when he was doing best.

I can only imagine how he is now.

This is very good. Really good.

Thank you.

Why us?

Why not Prat or The Paris School of Design?

Dad?

Please?

I asked your son if he did thought about Prato or Paris.

It's fine. This is where it will go.

Who is? - Mr. Seroph?

Can we talk? -Wait.

You again, kid. What do you want?

First, I don't intend to I'm boring you. Sorry.

It's nice that you have no intention.

I wonder if you teach?

No, I don't teach and I don't paint.

You know I'm Vicenza's protégé?

Is he done with you?

And you want to be my problem?

I don't trust anyone who doesn't drink.

Really? Why?

If you don't drink, it means you want to to keep hiding in the shadows.

We don't want that, do we?

Now you are encouraged to make jokes?

Sorry.

I don't think I'm losing time with you.

So you're going to teach me? -I will not. Go to an art academy.

They don't teach painting there! -Of course.

They learn something much more important.

Or something that drives people to feel something.

Feelings are the enemy of the elite.

They will crucify you if you are smarter than them.

In my opinion, painting has died. Non-refundable.

He is an ordinary man removed from the process.

Why? Ordinary man he has common sense.

No time for bullshit.

A common man can notice shit for ten kilometers.

That's why there is none for him places in art.

There is a big conspiracy in the world.

Talentless idiots they get together once a week

and plotting against humanity.

Trust me, it's a conspiracy.

It's a joint journey a much deeper experience

than when you travel alone.

People need validation. That's how we learn.

We feel something that we it's not entirely clear

and many feel something similar. It helps to determine what it is.

Art that shares that experience it is part of the fear-inducing confirmation.

Without context, there is no attitude.

Without attitude, there is no sharing.

There is no beauty without sharing.

And where there is no beauty, there is no art.

When you see beauty everywhere, your soul is freed.

No one can take it away from you.

I know that's true.

How do you know? - It's okay, I just know.

Okay.

Do you believe in god? - I think I believe.

Do you pray every night? -Yes.

Do you believe he can hear you?

Yes. - Not for me, an atheist he can be a great painter.

To create great art

one should reconcile with his mortality.

And to bow down to a higher power.

The job of an artist is to uplift the human soul.

The shitty elite want to change that.

I have a better chance while wiping my ass curtain to get to the Guggenheim,

rather than painting a child's face that make you cry.

You have to teach me to paint.

Not. The world has gone mad and you will only be unhappy.

I don't work for money.

That's good.

Can I bring some canvases to see them and give your opinion?

Not.

I'm going to Pennsylvania.

In Pennsylvania? Why? - I have a house there.

Will you take pictures? -Not, I have a woman there.

Young blonde, tall s big tits. -Really?

Not. - Let me bring a few things before you go?

After that you won't bother me anymore?

Absolutely. - Absolutely.

Okay.

Tomorrow. Go ahead but I change my mind.

Thank you!

Did you paint all this yourself? Without anyone's help?

Without help.

Good, because I wouldn't like to that you paid someone

to paint you such nonsense.

It's not like you don't have some talent.

But you look through someone else's eyes.

That tree is fine.

But I saw him in a hundred pictures.

This broken branch you stole from robert wood.

The truth? -Yes.

What is this?

Clouds or flying rocks?

The clouds are not so white. Come and have a look.

Are these clouds white to you?

Yes.

Fuck you. Look, this is white.

Watch. It's white.

Are they still white?

Bokte!

That's right! It's warmer.

Pink, yellow, purple.

Get down.

Well...

Pick up your things and go.

I wish you luck.

I thought that we agreed.

I just wanted to to thank you.

Thank you.

Just kidding! Come in!

I like this guy makes me laugh

Yes, my parents love him too.

Mr. Seroph? - My name is Nikolai.

Sorry. Nicholas... -Hush hush!

Can I see your studio?

Why? -I would like.

The studio is upstairs.

I can go by myself. Just show me where it is.

What? I won't give it to me you wander there alone.

Damn! I have no idea now What's happening.

Sorry.

Come on, asshole. Departs.

My vodka, motherfucker.

Take a look at.

I could live here. - Yes, you and the mice.

What are you doing with this canvas?

Take it. I do not need it.

I can't just do it.

One day, before maybe ten years,

I read what it is some idiot said:

"Representational art is sentimental. Out of date."

Then I said to myself, "I'll show you, moron."

I took my cloths, wanted to set them on fire.

I wanted to say something nice, something unique, something...

But then,

I said, let him wear it.

Who cares!

Worried about what critics think?

Are you kidding me, asshole?

You don't seem like someone to me who cares what others say.

Nicely said, asshole.

You are young, your life he hasn't slapped yet.

Really? Why do you think? that my life is easy?

You haven't seen the ugliness yet.

What are all people capable of? to do to each other.

while i paint I mean great people

who are before me stood in front of the canvas.

Da Vinci invented chiaroscuro.

You sure don't know what that is.

Light and space, influence light on the appearance of the object.

You are good.

Monet, Manet, Pissarro, Renoir.

They helped me see color. Mostly secondary colors.

You certainly don't know what I'm talking about.

I know. -You know?

Purple, green, orange.

Do you know who Fechin is? -I know. - Who?

Russian artist he painted in Taos.

Fechin was obsessed with edges.

At the meeting of two objects in space.

The line is a human concept. There are no lines in nature.

I do not agree.

John Carlson says in his to the book that the edges must be highlighted.

OK OK.

You taught me something, asshole.

Van Gogh, Redfield, they bordered everything.

The truth is.

It makes things less natural. More expressive, in my opinion.

Life is too short to they made small, inconsequential pictures.

I need to shout, to hear that I was here.

I was here. I was here, on this planet!

Hush, the critics will hear.

What's the first thing you research? - Local color.

What is that? - The essence of the matter before than it is influenced by the environment.

Well done! Very good.

Sincerely, Nikolai, I read it all, memorized it.

But do I know what that means? Can I bring it into my work? Not.

I'm not surprised.

The ass-wiping has already happened enough for you

but, all these things are possible know by trying.

That is very important.

Allow yourself to fail.

There are no secrets. Just work.

That's it? It's there?

I want to work. You can keep talking

and you refuse to help me, although obviously someone helped you too.

Is that fair? -OK.

You can join me in Pennsylvania for the summer.

If I don't kill you, I will teach you to paint.

If you're going to hug me, I will kill you right now.

Okay.

You want to go to forest with an old man?

Yes, it is a great opportunity for me.

How? - He is a Russian master!

There is also a Russian!

Communist and who knows what else!

Dad, you have to let me go. -Forget!

You will work with me this summer.

Shit.

Watch out!

You can't stop me.

Don't talk to your father like that.

I'm sorry, but he can't to stop me.

You're not going into the woods with that old man!

Why not? -Why?

Don't be stupid, you know. Wake up!

You know what that old man wants.

There's something wrong with you.

I hope you play better than you paint.

I go there for the quiet.

And not to listen to terrible sounds from your room.

I will be quiet.

Tell me...

Your parents agreed?

Yes. -For sure?

Yes. They support me.

Okay, let's go then.

You can wash the car.

Do you want me to drive?

I've been driving for 47 years without a scratch.

For sure? - I did! Get in the car, motherfucker.

Sorry.

In the city, where man reigns

and controls the environment, it's easy to believe that man is everything.

There is nothing here according to the will of man.

For me it's liberating.

The pressure went away when I realized with relief

that it matters little.

I was calmed by the feeling that some higher power...

has big plans for me.

Everywhere I looked, I saw the pictures.

They are masterpieces to me crossed my mind.

I was sad for Nikolai because his work is not considered essential.

I didn't understand how those "experts"

they can say something that there is no basis for that.

Who gave them power? Or, more importantly, right?

How can beauty to be irrelevant?

Landscapes were disappearing before our eyes

accelerated human attack.

I couldn't imagine nothing more important.

Bring your suitcases. I'm pissed off.

Take my things upstairs, left.

Where do I put mine?

In the barn. Just kidding. First room on the right.

It's comfortable, isn't it?

It is.

Isn't it nice?

This place reminds me to the homeland.

Really? -Yes.

Is Russia like that?

Sankt peterburg.

Baltic.

Country.

Like this one, beautiful.

I grew up with two languages, German and Russian.

It was nice.

This country is wonderful.

You know, after the German attack

there was little reason for me to stay.

He stopped me at the border young german soldier

your age.

He asked me where I was going.

I told him to leave the country

which he invaded.

And that I will be free.

If he doesn't like me, it can kill me.

But I didn't want to stop. I kept walking.

I walked and walked,

and I didn't hear a shot.

You were very brave.

I wasn't brave.

I was too tired that I would care.

Are you half-German?

You don't want to shoot?

Just kidding.

Maybe he's a soldier some of your grandfather-uncle.

Do you miss home?

I don't think much of home.

I can't go back.

And if you could, would you?

Not. I'm American now.

I love my second homeland.

Really?

Of course. You do not? -I think that.

You bastard, you don't no idea what you have here.

He would dig in another country in the mine where you belong!

Calm down, I didn't mean it that way.

I am very happy.

I'm happy that American myself.

Happy to be with you.

I am very happy because I'm American.

I'm happy because I'm here with you.

Because I'm here with snarled Russian

impressionist painter jerk.

I'm going to be pissed too Russian, Impressionist,

actually american painter of jerks.

There is no hope for you.

There is no hope at all.

Nice, isn't it?

Away from chaos and noise.

The only thing that I had plenty, there was fear.

I realized that I was in trouble with this guy, who knows,

it might be my father and was right.

Maybe the old man planned to attack me.

Just checking are you comfortable

It is.

Yes.

Goodnight.

Okay.

I have never seen that anyone he eats as much as Seroph.

He ate every morning is six eggs,

At least half a kilo of bacon, six slices of bread with jam,

and four cups of coffee.

Then came the medicines for pressure, heart and sugar.

In the end, he would pour himself a large glass of vodka

which he would complement throughout the day.

Today you will paint.

Where is Rasputin?

I love it!

Mother's milk.

Like it!

How are you my friend? -Okay.

I'm Curtis Sante.

That is for me? -For you.

To remind you of the old days.

Can you show me? something good?

Yeah, come on.

The exhibition did not go well as I expected.

I do not know. I felt it that they are bored.

People want to be shocked.

Disgusted.

To harness their own discomfort.

Are we talking about art?

Or ass cancer.

I was invited to the Artistic Committee next month.

I am also a member of the exhibition board. I would like you to rate the works.

Are you interested? -It is about about painting or shit?

Progressive art. - So, shit.

With his classical education and an eye for truth,

he would do a lot to me.

I'll come if nothing at least to laugh.

Okay.

Have you heard about the exhibition at the Tate?

Not.

He's hanging trash in the hallways!

Lots and lots of rubbish.

Are they doing it on purpose? - I'm curious. You're not?

I'm curious to see who will pay to watch it.

And our young friend? - My guest.

Is he interested in art? - He wants to become a painter.

Old fashioned or progressive?

Classic or progressive?

Do I have to label? - Label, for the sake of conversation.

That's the thing... I don't mean to be rude.

I can not describe.

Try it!

Can you hear the rain?

Hitting the roof, banging on the window, thundering.

I think of it as about a moment in time.

It exists only in this moment.

Then there is only in our memory.

I find peace in that. I want to catch those things.

I don't want to paint a picture just for pictures.

Sorry. Does that make sense?

Yes, shared experiences. That makes sense.

But still only representation.

Probably.

I wonder what's stopping you to break it?

Fear?

From what? - From digging deeper?

I do not understand what do you want to say.

Representation is safe.

What do you mean? -Use symbols.

Every time you pick up the brush you create a symbol.

It's true.

Representational art today it is very underrated.

It is far from certain, is not it?

God, you two are the same!

What do you think?

I want you to wallpaper the room.

Did I say something very important? Is that why you're staring?

Come on.

I think it's over.

Don't get up, everything is fine.

Man!

I'm not that bad.

I didn't mean that.

I realized. Is Nikolai there?

I'll leave it here.

If you want, I'll wake him up.

I usually do that.

I will make coffee. -Okay.

Well...

You are the master?

Not. -Not?

Who are you?

I'm an artist.

Artist? -Yes.

You don't sound very sure.

I am.

You must be talented.

Nikolay does not take students.

I'm currently fixing it some stuff.

So you are a master.

I'm not.

I heard voices.

Nikolai!

Nicely!

Give back my bed back against the wall.

To see you. You're beautiful.

You're getting younger.

And I'm getting older. Thanks for this.

Of course, apple pie.

Why don't you go move it bed, you asshole?

I am Russian. Look at me!

I'm big.

I narrowed it down to these.

On these? Show me the others.

I like these, but I'm female, Nikolay.

I know. -Really? -Yes.

What is it? -Nothing.

Do you need something?

Show me the others. -If we choose these,

the house will look like very feminine.

I do not know. -Not? - I would shoot arrows.

I meant these.

Thank you very much.

The apple pie was delicious.

There will be more next week.

Thank you.

Glad to meet you, John. - Thanks for the pie.

It's a woman.

She is amazing.

Women are wonderful creatures, is not it?

Honestly, I don't a lot of experience.

You two are... - Don't be crazy.

We just understand each other.

Shared experiences.

You can say that.

It's very sad, she lost her son.

Drunk driver.

She reminds me a little of my Anja.

My Anya...

She was beautiful and smart.

Not very smart, as soon as she married me.

She taught at the same faculty where I taught painting.

What happened?

She died.

It is sad that we choose the woman because we think she's perfect.

And they have us because they want to for us to be perfect.

In his twenties,

you will remember what i told you and you will think "old man crazy".

In your thirties, you need something echo in the head like an echo.

When you reach fifty,

you will say, the old man Russian asshole

he was right about many things.

Laugh, idiot!

Some more.

It was Sunday evening important to Serof.

He was starting to cook dinner early in the morning.

Spiders!

After dinner, which like that it lasted for hours,

Nicholas and Curtis were sitting, they got drunk,

and led for years the same discussion.

There is a place for representative art.

Just as there is space

that the traditional school transmits conventional teaching methods

new school, but solely for archiving purposes,

for historical reasons, in order to knew what art was,

and where is he going now.

That's bullshit, sorry Sandra.

No worries, Nikolai. With age I'm used to it from both of them.

What do you think?

Well...

He understands the modern moves more than me.

She basically understands them, but...

However, she graduated in psychology, and not art history.

That's crazy. - What, friend?

That you need a PhD to understand the picture.

You don't need a degree to appreciate music.

Art has moved on from the means to communicate with the masses,

to far more selective fields of communication. -When?

You too belong to the masses, like him, she, the neighbor farmer.

The neighbor farmer has completely different interests

from you and me. - But art is the common denominator.

When Sandra, John, you, me, the neighbor farmer

let's stop for a moment to appreciate what connects us all.

That's the beauty of life. It's art.

Art that divides us it is not art.

Very sentimental, Nikolai.

You say it like it is venereal disease.

Did I say something funny? What's wrong with sentimentality?

It has no place in art.

Who says? - Come on, Nikolai.

Sentimentality is slimy, adorable, emotional expression.

It shows a lack of intellect.

Shit! You have a big one smart, but you are dumb.

Sentiment means decency.

It means being human. Know that life is short.

Very, very short.

I know that at my age. Is it sentimentality?

I'm proud of that.

What you did to her,

it is extremely disturbing.

Crying, suffering, thinking,

love, true love.

These are the foundations of humanity.

It builds bridges.

The greats, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Monet, Renoir.

What are you talking about?

Of restlessness, disorder, misery, chaos. Oh damn chaos!

I apologize. -It's fine.

I was talking about something completely different areas of human existence.

That has no place in art.

And the people who live in the ghetto?

Where there is beauty their existence?

You know as much about the ghetto as I do about making rockets.

I think it must be some beauties in the ghetto.

Many brilliant minds they were born in the ghetto.

People from the ghetto should find there beauty.

And not some rich jerk who knows nothing about the ghetto.

"Poor fellows, I know how much you suffer, I know everything."

"I am so sorry."

You know what it is? Shit! The most common shit!

I apologize. -It's fine.

Thank you for another wonderful one and an inspiring evening.

We will solve it next time world problems.

Agreed, my friend.

Good night, beautiful Sandra. -Thank you.

Goodnight. -Goodnight.

Jerk.

75TH ART FAIR

It's so hot in August.

I hope it will not influence the visit.

Here's the main man, Nikolai Seroff.

My friend and our hostess

Mrs. Sally Huntington Quayle.

We are honored that you will rate it works, Mr. Seroph.

The pleasure is mine alone. Nikolai, please.

They are waiting for you, Nikolai.

What is this?!

You are Nikolai Seroff.

Yes. Is this yours? -Yes.

What is it?

Mechanized madness.

You have succeeded to some extent.

Good day sir. Would you like wine?

Vodka?

Take the bottle.

Are you an artist? -Yes.

What is it?

Exploring two-dimensionality canvas.

You mean planes? -Yes.

It's already flat. What is being investigated?

Flat.

I do not understand.

It's a journey.

Travel!

Yes, researching that which it already is.

The one that is already flat? -Yes.

Where are you? - I'm investigating.

What already is? -Yes.

Do you understand? -Not.

Oh my God.

Nikolai is here as Marilyn Monroe among freaks.

Being a minority, he himself became a freak.

Can I get you something? - A can of gasoline and matches.

Nikolai, are you having fun?

Am I having fun?

Dating... Yes, I'm having fun.

If I live another ten years,

I will live to see the bucket of urine come in the Museum of Modern Art.

Take me out of here, please. - Yes, we're going home.

Nikolai. - The world has gone mad.

They see this shit.

This is all bullshit.

You see these people? You see shit!

It's all bullshit! Shit! Shit!

There is a war between madness and common sense.

And madness wins! Madness wins.

Go home. - This is one thing that makes sense.

Congratulations!

What is that? -I have no idea.

I wanted to paint the house, and then tree, then changed the perspective.

What was your initial idea?

I do not know. -If you don't know, how should i know

What do you want to tell me?

I had a good idea, but i lost her.

It wasn't a good idea.

Good ideas they never lose.

Monet would paint this house with a bucket of shit.

It's harder to drive a car rather than paint a picture.

Listen to me carefully.

Don't ever forget what will i tell you

OK. -Do not forget.

I don't understand a word. You're just making noise.

I don't speak clearly that's why I didn't say anything.

That's what this shit looks like what you produce.

First thing:

find an idea.

My girlfriend came to me.

Can you do me a favor?

Don't yell at me in front of her.

Of course.

Hello guys. - Carla. Brownies? Wonderful!

How are you?

We learn to speak clearly.

Interesting.

I didn't speak clearly.

Nikolaj teaches art as therapy at a local school

for children with special needs needs.

It was nice to see that side of him.

What a careful man it can be.

It looked like he did really care.

The other teachers spoke that Seroph is their favorite guest.

Wet it a little more. A little more water here.

Try it.

There are many birds here.

It's nice...

These kids have it for me more sense than Curtis.

You know what?

I think they are ready for oil painting.

Nicely.

Thank you.

Here you go. If you get thirsty.

Thanks once again.

I came to say thank you and to return the cup.

Thank you.

Are you ok?

It is not believable. For sure?

Just a sad day.

Can I have you cheer up a little?

If I'm sad I would like some hot cocoa.

And a conversation with a friend.

How about cocoa?

I have time, I can't take pictures. It got cloudy.

Can I help to feel better?

Yes.

You help.

If you want to talk about anything,

I can.

Not.

Nothing in particular.

Can I talk?

Why is Seroph such a jerk?

He is always in a bad mood, he drinks.

I'm sure he hates me.

If he hated you, he would know that.

You say he is the best what can it be?

He told you about his wife?

A bit.

Did he tell you how she died?

It's not.

She was killed in Russia during Stalin's time

in something they called "purification".

He was the only one in the family to get away.

Such guilt

it never leaves you.

Then again, he didn't something wrong.

Of course it is.

He survived.

Help me cut the vegetables.

Why did you get up so early?

It will be tonight great fun.

Are you happy?

Cut smaller.

You are happy, aren't you?

Why not? A man must not be happy?

Young John is making good progress.

Wonderful, Nikolai! And John.

But now, what about that the work that was promised to me?

You're curious, aren't you? -Of course!

I'll bring it.

Here it is.

He is a progressive artist.

Not to my taste, but I'm interested in your opinion.

Damn!

Like it? You shut up!

You see...

What do you think?

What do you think, dear?

Not my area.

We know, but tell me what you think.

I will remain only a psychiatrist.

Come on, take a stand.

What about depth?

It has depth.

Has?! It can't be any deeper!

Yes, it cannot go deeper.

God! Show me the following.

God.

Full of suffering.

Suffering?

Line angles. -Yes.

And deep despair.

Despair. And longing.

Longing, yes. - And sadness.

Sadness and anger.

It's emotional yin and yang, right?

Completely. - You have to see it, Nikolai.

Do you see the sadness?

Yes. It's very sad.

I was out of breath.

I have to meet that guy. I still have to see.

Yes.

I like this one.

There are many different styles here.

If I didn't understand myself, I would say that the work is more hands.

One idea prevails.

It is...

It is a passive impression, dare i say

meaninglessness.

Yes, nonsense.

The artist expressed himself minimalist means.

Simply showing the essence,

it has weight, it has a point of focus, has a thought...

It is completely cohesive in intent.

You see it all in two blue squares?

And the coconut tree?

How not to see? It is completely clear.

It's totally clear. Now I will tell you what is clear.

What a mess you are.

Come on, Nikolai. You said that it is not to your taste.

The artist is brilliant. I think we are a little jealous.

These are pictures of retarded children which I teach at school.

What?!

Perfect! Simplicity! Longing!

Total bullshit! Shit!

Nikolai, this is not funny. - It's hysterical!

I won't stay for coffee.

Stay Please. I have a lovely picture of a red car.

Grab your things, let's go.

I have a divine one a picture of a purple dog.

What do you think? Isn't she lovely? -Enough! - Wait, I have more.

Masterpiece! Two orange mice.

You know, Nikolai... You're completely out of your mind!

I'm totally crazy! I'm totally crazy!

What's so funny? -I went crazy!

I went crazy!

Stop laughing!

I went crazy!

Good morning.

What is it?

Nothing. Just to see if you will teach me to paint today.

Please?! To take a picture?

Yes. Paint the basement.

I found a hornet's nest in the attic.

Nicely. Why don't you take a walk?

I've been here for two hours, and I finally have something.

The sun has moved in two hours.

I know, but I would like to to finish the picture.

Go kill the hornets. - Why not you?

Don't you think I'm too old? to climb a ladder?

What do you need a ladder for, tell them how big are you They will fall by themselves.

What did you say, asshole?! - You heard right.

There was a deal to teach me to paint.

And not to tidy up your house!

Finally, some passion, not just "dad doesn't understand me".

What do you know about him?

What I know? He thinks it's me old Russian communist fag.

Or in short, "he would just like some chicken".

You have no idea.

Do you want today's lesson? I will show you.

First heaven.

Heaven is reflected in everything.

Stop? What are you doing?!

Very nice. -Thank you.

It's better now. -Fuck you! - To fuck?

Yes, screw you, Nikolai. - What would you like for dinner?

What do you think about fish? I'm tired of beef.

Hornets are waiting.

You must be joking!?

Come on, wake up.

Wake up!

Come on, I'm hungry.

God, there's a flood outside.

Really? - It broke in while I was crossing the field.

Shall I bring a towel? -Thank you. - Come in.

Sorry, it's dripping everywhere.

Apart from painting, what would you do? did for a living?

I do not know. I have never thought about making money.

I know I love it. I know it's my passion.

Just talking about it it excites me.

He has a place in New York, Grand Central Art Gallery.

I spend hours there looking at beautiful pictures.

My heart literally skipped a beat.

I don't understand how they do it.

Five centimeters from the canvas brush strokes are visible,

technique and color.

And from three meters away you see a divine image.

Makes you almost feel it how the wind blows through the branches

and the smell of the ocean.

God.

I don't know how they do it.

I know it's in me somewhere.

And he struggles to get out.

You can do it.

And I'm distracted.

I like many things.

I like to talk, to make people laugh people, i love music.

Are you playing something?

Yes, guitar and saxophone.

Well, you are a renaissance man.

I do not know. Probably.

It sounds like you're apologizing.

It's hard at home, isn't it?

Whatever is going on there,

do not worry.

You'll be fine.

Thank you.

Nikolai told me what happened to your son

I wonder...

Who took care of him?

Nicholas?

Something like that.

where is your husband

I never got married.

I was just pregnant.

Where is the father?

Listen up...

I know you feel guilty, but it shouldn't.

You didn't do anything wrong.

You are a sweet young man, John.

Don't let them answer you from what you want to do.

Of what you want to be.

Follow your heart.

Thank you.

You're very pretty.

Thank you.

I tried to wake you up.

You didn't react.

Should...

I should walk you home.

Good night, Nikolai.

Good night, Carla.

Well...

Should I come in or should I go?

I would love to, but... - I'm going.

I understand.

Thank you.

You...

She is my friend.

My friend, not yours.

I'm sorry. -Yeah, right!

You're right, I'm not sorry. - I want you to go. -OK.

You came into my life and twisted it.

How dare you? -You lied to me!

I didn't lie.

I was helping you but you're too young

too stupid

to see what you are gave away.

To see the gifts.

I want you to go. Tonight.

I'll go and you crawl to the bottle and feel sorry for yourself.

You just don't understand.

I'm at the end of my life.

The only thing I see in front of me,

it's a huge chasm.

I am at the beginning of my life and I see the same!

You took the world by the balls.

For a moment!

I don't know if I'm good. I don't know anything, I can't even go home.

I do not care.

Nobody cares!

I've been trying to tell you that for a long time.

The world is ugly.

They killed...

They killed...

They killed the most beautiful that I have ever seen.

My Anya.

she was laughing

like a happy child.

I remember her laugh.

I thought...

I thought never I will not be a part of that ugliness.

They took her from me.

I knew you had something

before I am saw your pictures.

When you knocked on my door.

But you...

You would be crazy to become a painter nowadays.

No hero, no Van Gogh,

neither Rembrandt, Monet, Renoir. Nothing.

Let's hope you will you be mine.

I'm tired. I'm just very tired.

Nikolai!

Come on, let's go to breakfast.

Nicholas?

Lord!

Jerk!

Today we are painting.

Not funny!

We went out into the field that morning.

He was completely another person.

The palette must always be the same.

The colors are like the holes on a piano.

A musician must always know where is what

to be able to express himself.

The painter does the same.

He showed me everything, and more than that.

He opened the gate of knowledge. The secrets of life have tried.

The sun is like a woman.

When he kisses you with hot lips, leaves color everywhere.

I started seeing yellow everywhere, ocher, orange, red.

Where it's hot, there's also cold.

Not just color temperatures,

but opposites are better on the color scale.

Where there is yellow, there is purple.

The grass is green everywhere. It turns pink under the light.

Unbelievable what he could do.

In a few seconds he brought thingsto life

Now we have to revive it.

To feel joy.

He showed me how that the sky trembles.

Well done John, well done. This is life.

I feel shadows. I can feel the sun warming from here.

The joy of existence.

Well done, John.

I have to thank you for your time that you shared with me.

I need to thank you. -No no.

You gave me something I didn't have thought I'd see it again.

Thank you, Nikolai.

Thank you.

Go say goodbye to the girl.

She's not my girlfriend, Nikolai.

Leave a message, some nice letter, something like that.

Okay. Waiting for you.

Dear Karla, you were right. I was lost.

But finding the way never is was so sweet and so fertile.

I will always remember your words.

Find your dreams too. I will love you forever, John

I took your bags upstairs. -Thank you.

Where do you intend to go?

I do not know. I'll think of something already.

Good luck.

I went to the park and drew for hours.

I was mishearing what to tell my parents.

In the end I decided it was best to face them.

So let it be as it will be.

Salute! - Cheers! - Cheers!

He had a great time.

I'm glad. - We were just talking about you.

Your friend Nikolai is a good man.

Yes. - He tells me that you had a good time.

I'm glad you're home. -Thank you.

He says you met a girl? - I am.

Would you like a drink? -Thank you. -Come on.

I'm glad to see you. -Heart!

Good thing he's your teacher

came to see my father and me.

Did you learn something?

I did, mom. I learned a lot.

Good.

To this day I don't know what it is Nikolay said to mine.

It doesn't even matter.

Father and I are never again talked about that summer.

I didn't go to study.

I am instead studied in the museum.

Most often art.

But also life.

No, you are of no use. - I can't untangle.

I'm clumsy.

I'll make it.

He's an artist, he is this should work.

Where are you going? - I'm going to Nikolaj I take a present.

You told me you would give me help us clear the snow.

I will when I get back.

Okay.

Be careful, there is ice. Drive carefully.

I will.

Hello. - Look at mom!

Look how beautiful she is.

Come here, my beauty.

Nicely.

Nikolai!

Nikolai!

This is how I want to remember him.

He dances across the canvas with a brush,

like a ballerina on stage.

I would like to tell you that it is Nikolay lived for many years.

To give the memory of that which he once was.

But it would be excessive.

Maybe a lie.

Nikolaj died that spring.

His departure a part of me also died.

I left painting several years.

FOR JOHN

I found out later that it was left the house to Carly.

She mostly designed it, and they both knew it would be so.

Other interests they took me to the west.

But as I got older,

they led me more and more Nikolai's thoughts.

And everything he gave me.

I can still see the trees as rooted people

who dance naked on the hills,

and the clouds as places where angels hide.

It took me years to I realize that Nikolaj is no longer there,

but if it was there all the time, to live in me,

and patiently waits for that we travel together.

But mostly yes I keep my promise

which I myself long ago gave:

that the heart of Nikolaj will be my home

as long as I live.

In 1991 John Talia had the first exhibition

in the Grand Central Gallery In New York.

In the same gallery where it is presented by Nikolai Seroff.

Dedicated to three wonderful people

whose love and patience changed my life.

PROCESSED BY: loggikg