A collection of memoirs about Mikhail Roginsky (1931–2004), one of the most interesting Russian painters of the XNUMXth century, can hardly be called a memoir. Rather, it is a polyphony of reflections about the artist, about the history of unofficial art in Russia, about the search for meanings and one’s own language, about defending one’s values and confronting falsehood and «plastic civilization».
A collection of memoirs about Mikhail Roginsky (1931–2004), one of the most interesting Russian painters of the XNUMXth century, can hardly be called a memoir. Rather, it is a polyphony of reflections about the artist, about the history of unofficial art in Russia, about the search for meanings and one’s own language, about defending one’s values and confronting falsehood and «plastic civilization». Friends and colleagues of Roginsky complement each other or continue their dispute (including with the hero of the book), and before our eyes there is a portrait of this unique artist, in whose fate one can put an equal sign between painting and life.
New Literary Review