He met Oksana two years after Vysotsky's death and realized that he would no longer be able to leave.

Originally from the Far East, a Jew by origin and a Russian sense of self - this is what Leonid Yarmolnik says about himself. From the Far Eastern village of Grodekovo, the family moved to Lviv when Lena was only 7 years old, because of the work of her father, the commander of a motorized rifle battalion. In Western Ukraine, the future actor lived until graduation.
He was neither a good boy nor a hooligan: he studied without deuces, swam well and played the accordion, but only seriously became interested in playing on stage. I went to Leningrad, to LGITMiK, but they didn’t see the future actor there. A year later, the selection committee of the Moscow Shchukin School turned out to be more perspicacious. Leonid was enrolled in the first year, settled in a hostel and given a chance that he would not miss - to become a professional actor.

Roles from Vysotsky

In the foyer of the Moscow Drama and Comedy Theater on Taganka, 1962

Studying at Pike went according to the school scenario: Yarmolnik could skip lectures in the company of his friend Sasha Abdulov, but in general he was considered a promising and talented student. After graduation in 1976, he was admitted to the Taganka Theater, where Vladimir Vysotsky shone in those years.

The start of Yarmolnik in the theater was bright: the main director of the theater, Yuri Lyubimov, immediately entrusted him to play in the play "The Master and Margarita", and then Vysotsky himself "shared" with the new roles.
Then the young artist did not yet suspect that this was far from the main gift that he would inherit from the legend. And with rapture he went on stage in the role of Kerensky.
A career in cinema developed simultaneously with a theatrical one: in 1974, Yarmolnik made his debut in the film “Your rights?”, And in 1979 he became famous throughout the Union with the humorous miniature “Chicken Tobacco”. The role of Theophilus, the son of Baron Mühhausen in the film "The Same Munchausen" finally secured the status of a popular artist for Leonid Yarmolnik.

Marriages civil and fictitious

At the Taganka Theater, he also met his first actual wife, actress Zoya Pylnova. She was seven years older and also married, but both turned a blind eye to this, enjoying the flash of passion. Zoya's husband, actor Vladimir Ilyin, seems to have faded into the background, although they did not officially file a divorce.
“We wonderfully and happily lived with her in a civil marriage for seven years,” Leonid later said about their relationship.
Happiness ended tragically: Zoya was expecting a child from Yarmolnik, but a miscarriage occurred in the seventh month of pregnancy. For the actress, this was a real tragedy, followed by a crisis in the relationship. They failed to cope with him: Pylnova returned to Ilyin, and Yarmolnik again became a free man.

He experienced this very painfully and eventually decided on a rash adventure: he married Elena Koneva, a girl with whom he became friends in a common company.

Some considered this marriage fictitious - Yarmolnik needed a Moscow residence permit. He himself says that by official marriage he wanted to finally put an end to past relationships. None of this, of course, came of it: a month after the wedding, he met a girl whom he truly fell in love with.

Vysotsky's last love

Oksana Afanasyeva was a costume designer, from the age of 18 she tried not to miss a single theatrical premiere - this is how she met Vladimir Vysotsky. It was she who was next to him in the last, most difficult, two years of his life. It is said that he died next to her.

The 20-year-old girl could not recover from this loss for a whole year. A strong character and love for the profession helped. And the meeting with Leonid Yarmolnik finally healed a broken heart.
For the first time he caught a glimpse of her in the lobby of the theater - a beautiful girl in a miniskirt stood in line at the box office. She bought a ticket and left, he ran away to the rehearsal. A few days later I saw the same girl in the company of friends celebrating the May holidays.
“The very next day after that May Day gathering, I moved in with Ksyusha. I had a chic car - a Zhiguli, I brought it home on it and ... I just stayed there, as they say, settled forever, ”Yarmolnik recalled the very beginning of their relationship.
They signed only when Oksana was seven months pregnant. was modest, in the circle of the closest people. The holiday was made up for when daughter Alexandra was already 15 years old: in the early 90s, Leonid and Oksana were forced to “divorce” on paper in order to solve the housing problem with the housing of the actor’s parents.
But the second one went according to all the canons of the holiday: with guests, the bride’s dress, gifts and cries of “bitter”.
Yarmolnik does not like to talk about his love for his wife: he believes that every happy family consists of such “Oksan and Leonid”. They have been together for 35 years, cope with everyday crises with confidence and do not pay attention to the gossip that arises every now and then.

Leonid and Oksana with their daughter

In early 2014, the media wrote about the novel by Leonid Yarmolnik and the young actress Victoria Romanenko, but the rumors remained rumors that subsided without finding confirmation.
Now Leonid and Oksana are the happy grandparents of their grandson Peter. Yarmolnik does not have a soul in the boy and is very proud that his parents easily trust his grandfather. Daughter Sasha followed in the footsteps of her mother and also became an artist, but she does not create costumes, but unique stained glass windows.

Leonid Yarmolnik is still in demand as an actor and producer. In recent years, she and Oksana have been increasingly appreciating each other's company - they prefer to celebrate even once noisy holidays like the New Year together, and not in cheerful companies.

Photo: Persona Stars, Ria Novosti, AnatoLiy Garanin/RIA Novosti, Evgeny Novozhenina/RIA Novosti

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Oksana Yarmolnik
Oksana Pavlovna Yarmolnik
Oksana Yarmolnik with the book "Muska". 2013
Name at birth:	Oksana Pavlovna Afanasyeva
Occupation:
Date of Birth:
Citizenship:	USSR USSR → Russia, Russia
Spouse:
Children:	Alexandra Leonidovna Yarmolnik (b. 1983)

Oksana Pavlovna Yarmolnik(nee Afanasiev; genus. January 29 ( 19600129 ) , Moscow, USSR) - Russian designer and costume designer for theater and cinema, actress. Wife of actor and producer Leonid Yarmolnik.

Biography

Graduated from the Faculty of Applied Arts. From 1983 to 1985 he was a production designer at the All-Union Directorate of Circus Art. Since 1985, he has been working with famous directors and set designers, including Oleg Tabakov, Sergey Zhenovach, David and Alexander Borovsky, Alexander Mitta, Boris Messerer and others.

The prototype of Tatiana Ivleva, Vladimir Vysotsky's last love affair, performed by Oksana Akinshina in the film Vysotsky. Thank you for being alive" (2011).

Member of the Board of Trustees of the Charitable Foundation "Line of Life".

Theatrical work

• “Truth is good, but happiness is better” (Maly Theater)
• “From Thursday to Thursday” (Theatre, directed by O. Tabakov)
• "Children?!" (Theatre on Malaya Bronnaya)
• "White Guard" (Moscow Art Theater named after A.P. Chekhov)

Filmography

costume designer

Actress

• 2006 - Communication - Irina Yuryevna

Books

• Oksana Yarmolnik.. - M. : Children's time, 2012. - 44 p. - 3000 copies. - ISBN 978-5-905682-06-3.

Personal life

• Daughter - Alexandra Yarmolnik (born 1983) is a glass artist who makes glass sculptures. Graduated from MGHPU them. Stroganov.
• Grandson - Peter (born 2014)

Write a review on the article "Yarmolnik, Oksana Pavlovna"

Notes

Links

• / "Beauty & Health", July 2013.
• . Russian newspaper (November 5, 2004). Retrieved 28 September 2016.
• . TVC channel (August 21, 2016). Retrieved 28 September 2016.
• . Theatrical caretaker (March 21, 2003). Retrieved 28 September 2016.
• . Radio "Mayak". Retrieved 28 September 2016.
• . Channel Five (July 5, 2010). Retrieved 28 September 2016.
• . sncmedia.ru (November 26, 2015). Retrieved 28 September 2016.

An excerpt characterizing Yarmolnik, Oksana Pavlovna

– Where are you? Stop here! - voices whispered to Lazarev, who did not know where to go. Lazarev stopped, glancing fearfully at the colonel, and his face twitched, as happens with soldiers called to the front.
Napoleon slightly turned his head back and pulled back his small plump hand, as if wanting to take something. The faces of his retinue, guessing at the same moment what was the matter, fussed, whispered, passing something to one another, and the page, the same one whom Rostov had seen yesterday at Boris, ran forward and respectfully leaned over the outstretched hand and did not make her wait for a single moment. one second, put an order on a red ribbon into it. Napoleon, without looking, squeezed two fingers. The Order found itself between them. Napoleon approached Lazarev, who, rolling his eyes, stubbornly continued to look only at his sovereign, and looked back at Emperor Alexander, showing by this that what he was doing now, he was doing for his ally. A small white hand with an order touched the button of the soldier Lazarev. As if Napoleon knew that in order for this soldier to be happy, rewarded and distinguished from everyone else in the world forever, it was only necessary that Napoleon's hand deign to touch the soldier's chest. Napoleon only put the cross on Lazarev's chest and, letting go of his hand, turned to Alexander, as if he knew that the cross should stick to Lazarev's chest. The cross really stuck.
Helpful Russian and French hands, instantly picking up the cross, attached it to the uniform. Lazarev looked gloomily at the little man with white hands, who did something to him, and continuing to hold him motionless on guard, again began to look directly into Alexander's eyes, as if he was asking Alexander whether he was still to stand, or whether they would order him walk now, or maybe do something else? But nothing was ordered to him, and he remained in this motionless state for quite some time.
The sovereigns sat on horseback and left. The Preobrazhenians, upsetting their ranks, mingled with the French guards and sat down at the tables prepared for them.
Lazarev was sitting in a place of honor; he was embraced, congratulated and shook hands by Russian and French officers. Crowds of officers and people came up just to look at Lazarev. The buzz of Russian French and laughter stood in the square around the tables. Two officers with flushed faces, cheerful and happy, walked past Rostov.
- What, brother, treats? Everything is in silver,” said one. Have you seen Lazarev?
- Saw.
- Tomorrow, they say, the Preobrazhensky people will treat them.
- No, Lazarev is so lucky! 10 francs for life pension.
- That's the hat, guys! shouted the Preobrazhensky, putting on a Frenchman's shaggy hat.
- A miracle, how good, lovely!
Did you hear the feedback? said the Guards officer to another. The third day was Napoleon, France, bravoure; [Napoleon, France, courage;] yesterday Alexandre, Russie, grandeur; [Alexander, Russia, greatness;] one day our sovereign gives a review, and the other day Napoleon. Tomorrow the sovereign will send George to the bravest of the French guards. It's impossible! Should answer the same.
Boris and his comrade Zhilinsky also came to see the Preobrazhensky banquet. Returning back, Boris noticed Rostov, who was standing at the corner of the house.
- Rostov! Hello; we didn’t see each other,” he told him, and could not help asking him what had happened to him: Rostov’s face was so strangely gloomy and upset.
“Nothing, nothing,” answered Rostov.
– Will you come?
- Yes, I will.
Rostov stood at the corner for a long time, looking at the feasters from afar. A painful work was going on in his mind, which he could not bring to the end. Terrible doubts arose in my heart. Then he remembered Denisov with his changed expression, with his humility, and the whole hospital with those torn off arms and legs, with this dirt and disease. It seemed to him so vividly that he now felt this hospital smell of a dead body that he looked around to understand where this smell could come from. Then he remembered this self-satisfied Bonaparte with his white pen, who was now the emperor, whom the emperor Alexander loves and respects. What are the severed arms, legs, murdered people for? Then he remembered the awarded Lazarev and Denisov, punished and unforgiven. He found himself thinking such strange thoughts that he was afraid of them.
The smell of Preobrazhensky food and hunger brought him out of this state: he had to eat something before leaving. He went to the hotel he had seen in the morning. In the hotel, he found so many people, officers, who, like him, arrived in civilian clothes, that he hardly managed to get dinner. Two officers from the same division as him joined him. The conversation naturally turned to the world. The officers, comrades of Rostov, like most of the army, were dissatisfied with the peace concluded after Friedland. They said that if they could hold on, Napoleon would have disappeared, that he had no crackers or charges in his troops. Nicholas ate in silence and mostly drank. He drank one or two bottles of wine. The inner work that arose in him, not being resolved, still tormented him. He was afraid to indulge in his thoughts and could not get behind them. Suddenly, at the words of one of the officers that it was insulting to look at the French, Rostov began to shout with fervor, which was not justified in any way, and therefore greatly surprised the officers.

OKSANA YARMOLNIK

This chapter in the book is special. It contains the confession of a woman whom Vladimir Semenovich Vysotsky loved very much. It just so happened that this love - great and real - turned out to be the last in the life of the poet ...

For a long time, nothing was known to the general public about this page in Vysotsky’s life: only close friends of the poet, with whom he closely communicated in the last years of his life, knew about Vladimir Semenovich’s acquaintance and relationship with a young student girl Oksana Afanasyeva.

Today, Oksana herself decided to lift the veil of the secret of their love and tell - as far as it seems possible to her - about their relationship with Vladimir Vysotsky, which lasted two years.

We have no right to discuss and comment on this confession of love and, God forbid, judge, condemn anyone - both the main characters of our chapter and their entourage. What was, was...

Ludmila Lunina.

"VLADIMIR VYSOTSKY AND OKSANA"

“Vladimir Vysotsky called her his last love. And not because he foresaw his imminent end. It’s just that any man sooner or later wants to stop and say to himself: “It is with this woman that I will happily live the remaining century and die with her on the same day.” His beloved at that time was the nineteenth year, Vysotsky himself exchanged his fifth decade. And they were measured not a century or half a century, but only two years.

Vysotsky now is like a minefield. All and sundry write memoirs about him, and then other lazy people refute these memoirs. And it is not clear what is around

more than Vysotsky's name: adoration or completely unworthy fuss. So is it necessary to increase this fuss?

Is it possible to come up with something new about the romance of a 19-year-old girl with a 40-year-old famous artist? Too unequal weight categories: one has too much experience, the other is all overflowing with pink snot. At best, he plowed it, at worst, he moved.

But it turned out that Oksana Yarmolnik was not at all easy to move. And, probably, it was never possible, even at her nineteen years.

I grew up very early - maybe because my mother died early. All my friends were older than me. Now it seems to me that the first twenty years of my life were much more saturated with various kinds of dramatic events than the next twenty.

From the age of eighteen I lived alone - I exchanged my parent's apartment and in this way provided myself with living space. Entered the textile institute. She earned money by sewing her friends.

I always decided everything myself: where to study, with whom to be friends, whom to love. In the most difficult moments, unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I didn’t have a person who would advise something, wag a finger, forbid ...

And then you met Vysotsky. He must have been your idol...

You know, I never had idols. Met and met. He first drew attention to me. I was an avid theater goer. We ran into Volodya at the administrator of the Taganka Theatre.

Not me - he, as they say, was stunned. Picked up the phone and asked for a date. Just before the date, my friend and I went to the Moscow City Council Theatre. I don’t even remember what we watched - the whole performance I thought about whether I should go or not. And now I crumple the program in my hands, I turn it ... “Listen,” I say to my friend, “something I don’t want to meet with him.” And she: “What are you?! Yes, all the women of the Soviet Union just dream of being in your place! I mentally imagined the countless number of these women - and went.

So we met. I had no idols, but there was youthful maximalism, and in addition to it - a ready-made groom, such a sweet boy. So, in obedience to youthful maximalism, I parted with my fiancé the next day.

I decided that one day with a person like Volodya is better than a whole life with that friend of mine.

Vladimir Semenovich was absolutely, completely, one hundred percent a man of genius. I have never met more gifted people. He had tremendous energy. Wherever he appeared: in the company of friends or in a huge hall where he gave a concert, he easily subordinated to his charm both five people and ten thousand. Even the party officials who put a spoke in his wheels were actually looking for acquaintances with him and asked for a ticket to the theater.

But they say he drank.

They write only about this: he drank, injected, an alcoholic, a drug addict. So you imagine a kind of goner with shaking hands, in front of which there are cocaine grooves and a pair of syringes. This is absolute nonsense. During the last two years that we knew each other, Volodya starred in the film "The meeting place cannot be changed" and in "Little Tragedies". He had records on the radio, roles in the theater, he traveled around the country with performances. At the Odessa studio, he was preparing to launch the film "Green Van" as a director. True, they did not give him.

At the same time - yes, he drank, sat on a needle. But this was interspersed with wear and tear, racing against the disease.

Didn't you have a sobering feeling when you found out about all his vices?

I was madly in love. And then, what vices are we talking about - drunkenness? Then absolutely everyone drank, and creative people even more so. Another thing, no one imagined that Volodya had so little left. You know, I can hardly remember those years now - after all, I still did something, studied. And it feels like life was filled only with him.

I would give anything in the world to heal him. But imagine Moscow at the end of the 70s: where to get treatment, from whom, how to do it anonymously? We were all afraid that they would find out about it: it was easier to go to jail for drugs than to the hospital.

Although now you think: what nonsense! Well, you would know - so what? I had to go abroad, go to the clinic. Marina twice arranged him in hospitals. There was a remission, but not for long.

Many people hung on it, and he never forgot about his responsibility. He helped his mother, father, two sons, not to mention numerous friends. Someone gave out abroad in marriage or married. Another called from OVIR: “They don’t give me a passport!” - and Volodya went to help out.

Did he feel responsible for you?

I think I felt more responsible for our relationship. And it was enough for me that we were together. And although, of course, there were feelings, and intensity, and passion, that he loves me, he told me only a year later. And for me it was the strongest shock, a moment of absolute happiness.

Volodya was worried about my unsettled fate, because he could not give me more. He even asked Marina Vladi for a divorce. And what would he achieve with a divorce? He would become restricted to travel abroad, and that's all. And for him, traveling abroad was like a breath of fresh air. He had hundreds of friends in America, France, Germany. If he had divorced, he would have been rotten in the Union or simply thrown out of the country, like Galich, Aleshkovsky, Brodsky.

Marina was far away, I perceived her as Volodya's relative, her existence had no effect on our relationship. I don't like it when people talk badly about her in my presence. The people who loved Volodya were close to him, for me, not exactly holy, but beyond criticism.

When Volodya died, the circumstances were such that almost immediately after the funeral I left his apartment. Not that some personal things - I didn’t even take the documents. I called David Borovsky, our mutual friend, the artist of the Taganka Theater, and asked them to bring me documents and two wedding rings, which were in a glass - on the bedside table, in the bedroom. But they have disappeared.

And Volodya bought the rings to marry me. We were naive and believed that since the church was separated from the Soviet state, we could easily get married without stamps in the passport. It turned out that registration of the registry office is required. We traveled to half of the Moscow churches - to no avail. Nevertheless, Volodya found one priest who fell under his charm and agreed to marry us. But it didn't work out.

Did you somehow get used to each other, rubbed sharp corners?

From the first minute of the conversation, each of us had the feeling that we had met a loved one. We had a lot in common in tastes, habits, characters. Sometimes it seemed that we had known each other before, then parted for a while and then met again. Volodya even remembered that he visited my parents at home and knew my mother. True, whether he saw me as a child remained unclear.

Have you vacationed together?

I went with him to concerts in Tbilisi, Central Asia, Minsk, St. Petersburg by car.

On the way to St. Petersburg - and Volodya just brought a Mercedes from Germany - we picked up a family voting on the side of the road: a man, a woman and a child. It just became a pity, it seems that the weather was bad, it was raining.

And so they got into the Mercedes, after a couple of minutes they realized that, in fact, they were being driven by Vysotsky. And they froze like sculptures of Egyptian pharaohs. So, silently, with stony faces, they sat all the way.

Was Vysotsky burdened by national fame?

It was a well-deserved glory, because no one was specially engaged in its promotion, as they do now. In addition, many simply did not know him by sight, although everyone listened to Vysotsky's songs and knew everything. And he treated people not as an annoying crowd, but precisely as people.

We were driving to Minsk, the conductor on the train looked at Volodya intently: “I somehow know your face. Are you not an actor of the Moscow City Council Theater? "No," I replied, "he's a dental technician." We exchanged winks and went to our compartment. Half an hour later, the conductor comes to us. “How nice,” she says, “that I met you. I have something gum under the crown hurts. Won't you look?"

And Volodya, like a real dentist, looked at something in her mouth for a long time and then seriously advised me to change the bridge. In general, it was not boring with him.

Did he delve into your problems, into your studies?

He was amazed that I could take a pencil and draw something on paper in five minutes. In general, he admired people who could draw, terribly envied them, the same Mikhail Shemyakin.

Of course, he delved into everything. He went abroad, asked: “What do you want to bring?” And I sewed. “Bring,” I say, “carrot-colored silk thread number eight and a thimble.”

It's actually not easy, I know from experience. There are two specialized fabric stores in the whole of Paris.

Volodya answered in the same spirit: it is easier, they say, to get a live crocodile. As a result, he brought a box - a set for needlework, with scissors, thread-needles, thimbles and other gizmos. With all this I went to the institute, to a lesson called "embodiment in the material." And my friends were jealous of me.

In two days in Germany, he managed to buy me two suitcases of clothes. All handpicked with extraordinary taste.

“I like it,” he said, “when you wear something new every day.” Or: "But this is my special luck." Luck was a French straw bag or some other thing that, in his opinion, suited me especially.

And now imagine me in all these Diors and Yves Saint Laurents in a time of terrible scarcity, when a decent pair of shoes was a problem. I had eighteen pairs of boots, my girlfriends introduced me like this: “Meet Oksana, she has eighteen pairs of boots.”

After boots, asking about flowers seems to be indecent ...

One spring, I said that I love lilies of the valley. In the morning I woke up from the fact that the front door clicked - Volodya ran away somewhere. Naturally, he brought lilies of the valley. But how much? The whole room was lined with lilies of the valley. He probably traveled around Moscow and bought flowers in bulk.

In general, such a fabulous life, where everything was mixed up: both his breakdowns and his tenderness. It really was some kind of implausible love. Especially the first year turned out to be serene. Later there was some foreboding of trouble.

But why such a terrible ending? Maybe the Soviet government is to blame?

The Soviet government, of course, interfered, but at the same time helped. She brought such intrigue to life, such conflict. There was a struggle, sharp dramaturgy. It's like a theatrical play: the more serious the conflict, the more interesting it is to watch. Now there is no Soviet power - and art is insipid, primitive, banal. Freedom must be used, but we still do not know how.

And I perceive the death of Volodya as fate, a fate from which you cannot run away. Well, if he hadn’t injected, he would have died of a heart attack or got hit by a car. He lived in such a way that otherwise it would not have happened.

What happened to you after he was gone?

Terrible year. I went to the academy, thinking about whether to emigrate. They called me to the KGB, they tried to recruit me. I refused. I was not expelled from the institute, but later they did not let me into Bulgaria.

Friends helped. I was still friends with the Taganka actors. They gave me a job, I studied. Two years have passed, I met Lenya - and a completely different story began. But I still have the feeling that Volodya predetermined a lot in my fate. If not for him, things would have turned out very differently.”

Marina Raikina:

"THE TRUTH OF LOVE AND THE HOUR OF DEATH"

Oksana Afanasyeva:

"VOLODIA SAID - LET'S BORN SOMEONE"

They were separated by 22 years. He is 40. She is 18. He has popular love and a scandalous reputation. She has a textile institute and a vague future as a fashion designer. But for two years they were bound by love. For her, it's the first. For him, it's the last one. Vladimir Vysotsky and Oksana Afanasyeva (Yarmolnik) together learned the truth of love and death.

RED, VERY RED YEAR

They met in 1978. This year has a very bright color.

By the number of emotions, the brightness of impressions and sensations, it is red, says Oksana.

Vysotsky - your first love?

The real one, rather.

Do you believe in fate?

Certainly. I came to the performance - by that time I had already gone to Taganka. I went to the reception at intermission to make a phone call. Volodya was sitting there, and the administrator Yakov Mikhailovich Bezrodny said: “Ksyusha, this is Volodya Vysotsky. Volodya, this is Ksyusha. Volodya was talking on the phone at that time, but immediately hung up. For some reason, past the device.

And now about fate: that day I actually went to another performance, and it was replaced by the one that I had already seen. I could leave, but I stayed because of a friend. And Volodya didn’t play that day either - he just stopped by to order tickets for someone. Where are you after the performance? - he asked. "Home". - "Don't leave me, I'll give you a lift."

What car did he have at the time?

- "Mercedes". 280th. Silver. It was funny: when I got out, Veniamin Borisovich Smekhov was standing on the street in a green Zhiguli. "Ksyusha, let's hurry, I'm waiting for you." - "No, we are already brought up." - "Who?" I point to Volodya. Venya looks at him and says: “Well, of course, where are my Zhiguli against his Mercedes!” But in fact, "Mercedes" did not play any role, we were then bespontovye: a car is not a luxury, but a means of transportation.

Didn't your head get blown off? Vysotsky, "Mercedes"...

You know, I have never been a theatrical raw material, so for me Volodya was not a deity. In our house, on Pushechnaya Street, quite difficult people gathered. My dad and my brother were friends, for example, with Lenya Yengibarov, Leva Prygunov came, and other interesting people. This was my environment. And Volodya... He was a very mysterious figure for me. There were legends and gossip about him: Volodya is an alcoholic, a womanizer and, in general, the last person in this world.

And you are not afraid of these gossip?

No. Do you know what I was afraid of? I was afraid that the feelings on my part could be much stronger and more sincere than this.

On the day when we said goodbye, he said: “Give me your phone, I will invite you to Hamlet. But when I called and invited to the performance, I was already going to Malaya Bronnaya. “You know, Vladimir Semenovich,” I told him ... “I’m going to Efros.” And he: “Come on, I’ll play “Hamlet” and pick you up. And we're going to have dinner." And here something in me skipped a beat. During the performance, I was terribly worried. My girlfriend says: “What are you twitching about? All the women of the Soviet Union would dream of going to dinner with Vysotsky. Aty - I won’t go, it’s inconvenient. Stupid!!!" And I think: “In fact, this is wildly interesting, such a person ...” I left the theater, then Volodya rustled in his Mercedes, and we went to his house. I was visiting him, "in Georgians." “Don’t call me Vladimir Semenovich,” he told me then. Volodya tenderly looked after me, treated me with delicacies from the Beryozka store. There was some kind of wine, he fried the liver himself. The liver melted in the mouth.

Well, yes. Then he brought me home, to Pushechnaya. He said that he was leaving for Paris and would certainly call when he returned. Some time passes, and Volodya really calls: "Hello, hello, I've arrived." We switched to “you” with him, and our relationship began to somehow develop.

Well, I don’t know ... Now, if his enveloping voice sounded next to me, I would be for myself ...

Everything about him was enveloping. Wildly charismatic. Probably, there was not a single aunt who could resist. Volodya was an absolutely professional swindler.

Deftly set up networks?

I did not set up networks. It was just in him. Suddenly he started calling me. He began to court, and it was not a casual relationship - they met, slept, fled, but a real romance in its classical form. I decided for myself: let it be three days, a week, but I will be with this person, because he is not like everyone else. And what happens next is all the same. In general, I fell in love. But I realized that I could not demand anything. My life is my life, my love is my problem.

Interestingly, did the artist Vysotsky help the student Afanasyeva financially?

When our house on Pushechnaya began to be resettled, my parents exchanged an apartment for a two-room apartment in Medvedkovo and a one-room apartment on Yablochkova Street. I went there. And everyone said that he bought me an apartment. Nothing like this. But, you know, he helped me, more than. I was not a poor student - I had a dad, aunts who adored me. And when Volodya appeared, I no longer needed anything. Volodya simply forbade me to use public transport. “You should take a taxi so as not to waste time. I don't want to be pushed and squeezed on the subway,” he said.

So you had a decent monthly allowance?

Did he have good taste?

Awesome. If he brought a toilet, then he must have boots, a bag. I had everything stunning and in large quantities - for example, 17 pairs of boots. Egor Zaitsev, my classmate, if we came with him to the company, introduced me like this: “This is a girl, meet her, she has 17 pairs of boots!” And people walked in one pair for three years.

Did he like it when you were in his stuff?

Certainly. In general, he was very fond of his things to please and be accepted in a special way.

Before your eyes, he worked, wrote? How did it happen?

How? I just didn’t sleep, lay, smoked, then at some point I got up and wrote down everything, everything, everything. He didn't hatch

lines, not rules, but immediately - once, and on paper. Then he woke up and said: "Listen, listen." He sang, immediately picking up some kind of melody. I saw: he watches TV with glassy eyes, smokes a lot, the ashtray is full of cigarette butts - that means he works.

Did you have a lot of respect for yourself? Did you puff out your cheeks?

No never. He was a tough man, knew his worth and never in his life allowed himself to be rude to anyone. He was a free man. Even in relation to the boss (the artistic director of Taganka Yuri Lyubimov. - M.R.), he managed to build relationships so much that he dictated, and not Lyubimov. People could not afford what Volodya allowed himself - to disrupt the performance, to refuse something. And he was forgiven.

What amazed me the most was how surprised he was. “Where does it come from? Here is a gamayun bird, I didn’t even know that there was one. I only found out later when I wrote it. I rejoiced at an unexpected rhyme that no one else has. At some moments, he resembled Pushkin, who said: "Ah yes Pushkin, ah yes son of a bitch."

Tell me honestly: did your senior friend teach you how to live? Like driving a car?

Learned. On Nikolina Gora. He even wanted to buy me a small red sports BMW.

And why exactly red?

So that everyone can see how I cut across Moscow. Volodya still loved show-offs in small things, although he was absolutely bespontovy. So he said: “Everything should be the best for me - both the car and the women ...”

Did you teach mind-reason in life?

Hard to say. There was a moment when at the institute I was disappointed in people: I realized that 90 percent of them treat me consumerly. She cried, she fell into a depression. And Volodya said then: “People are made this way, remember.”

And in love, in sex?

No, everything was natural for us.

Was he interested in your work? Or, like any creative egoist, was he only concerned with himself?

When I came in a dress that I sewed in one day, it was a shock for him. He brought me fabric from Paris, well, think about it, a piece of some kind of rag, and it turned into a dress, and it was magic for him. He was amazed at what was done by human hands.

Did you sew for him?

Hemmed - trousers, jeans ... Volodya had such a day, he called it "the day of distribution of banknotes to the population." This is when he handed out things to his friends: he liked very much that a person dressed well. And he liked to dress well and expensively. Loved quality stuff. Ata jeans that I hemmed, he never gave. “I won’t give it back, Ksyusha filed them.”

Once he drew me, although he did not know how to do it at all. He drew me with three eyes. Said, "You have a third eye because you have a very strong intuition."

Ksyusha, Vysotsky had a very difficult relationship with the authorities, in particular with the KGB. Has it affected you in any way?

I was in practice in Leningrad. And somehow the girls told me that a very nice guy was interested in me. Everyone thought he was framing me. In Leningrad, Volodya settled me in the Astoria, the best hotel at that time. He didn't want me to live in a hostel. And then one day I come and find out that I was evicted from my room. They say that you need to go to such and such a room and that some people are waiting there. I came, and it turned out that I could be detained for holding currency. And I really had the currency - ten dollars in small change (Volodya left me this small change). I used them to buy myself a tonic in the bar of an Intourist hotel.

Scared?

Not really. They then told me everything about me - who I am, who my parents are, that during the war my father was imprisoned for desertion (there was no desertion, just after being wounded, my grandfather hid him). They didn’t intimidate me, didn’t shout, but very delicately asked: “Have you been there? Who else goes there? And who talked to Vysotsky and what did he say? Maybe you can write to us? Naturally, I said that I had nothing to write. But the most interesting thing happened later: the guy who was interested in me at first offered me to marry him. Moreover, he bought me a train ticket with his own money and told me to leave Leningrad. I remember that his name was Ruslan.

And how did Vysotsky react to this incident? Not scared for you?

Everyone was just in shock. And more from the fact that the KGBist offered me marriage. Over time, I realized that there were many people who wanted Volodya not to be in the country. Even with all the love for Volodya Brezhnev and especially his daughter Galina, it was still a "scoop" who was afraid of him, considered him dangerous. KGB officers who listened to his songs said: “We adore you,” but at the same time they could say: “What are you doing here? You are watching us." And threatened with a finger. On the other hand, at the same level there were even more of those who opposed the first. And this unspoken confrontation gave him the opportunity to live and work in the country.

Ksyusha, didn’t it bother you that, in fact, the person is married, that he has a wife in Paris, who can come at any moment? And in the house on Gruzinskaya - you.

Somehow it didn't really bother me. Because Marina - she was somewhere. And there was no such thing: he is with me during the day, and in the evening he goes to her. She lived her own life, came to Moscow a couple of times, and Volodya visited her in Paris for a short time.

Did he look like an adult to you?

Certainly. But I have always liked men much older than me, I have never had any novels with my peers. And my dad was older than my mom. And then, when my mother died early, all his subsequent wives were much younger than him.

But, on the other hand, Volodya was a boy for me - humor, hooliganism, energy, but at the same time everything was meaningful, incredibly interesting. Yes, and I could not fall in love with a person who is just a good person. This is not snobbery: here I am friends only with the great ones - no. I can fall in love with anyone, but he must be very talented and interesting.

Did he immediately declassify you for others or conspired under a younger sister?

Our relationship was not hidden, I somehow immediately met all his friends. At first, they treated me like another Volodya's girl, and then it turned into a different attitude: someone accepted me, someone did not. But with Seva Abdulov we had the most tender relationship, he is a holy man, and I adored him.

I wonder if Marina Vladi knew about your existence?

I knew. Well, what could she do? I remember she came from Paris, and Volodya and I didn't see each other for a week. I took my friend to see Hamlet. We sit on side chairs in the center of the hall. Volodya is playing. The next scene was without him. Suddenly I feel that someone is tugging at the hem of my skirt. Well, I think they are quite insolent, they are already pestering in the theater. I see that the neighbors are looking at me somehow in amazement. Finally, in the dark, I saw - Volodya in velvet jeans, boots, half-bent, came up behind me and pulled me: "Let's go, let's go out" - and apologizes with signs to the audience. He did not know that I would come, he saw me from the stage. I'm okay, but the people were stunned.

Was he jealous of you?

There was a funny case: I was the first to leave the house on Gruzinskaya, Volodya was late. The Union of Graphic Artists was also there, and two tipsy artists who were following me said something nasty - such masculine rudeness, but with interest. I turned around: “Fuck you ...” At this time, Volodya came out of the entrance with Lesha Shturmin (at that time karateka No. 1. - M.R.). And without understanding, without asking, they rushed at them, and the murder began. It was all over in a minute. The men - both of them - stood with torn off sleeves, bruises, broken noses.

Did this owner cheat on you?

Well, it happened a couple of times. And for me it was a terrible tragedy when I found out about it. If this happened today, I would laugh. And then ... I even left, he came for me, and everyone persuaded me to return. Here are the May Day holidays, and Volodya should come for me. I'm waiting for him at home on Yablochkov. No. I called, Yanklovich came up. "Don't worry, it's okay, we'll call you." - "Where is Volodya?" - "He can't come." - "I'll be right there." - "No, no, don't you dare."

I take a taxi, after 10 minutes I enter the apartment, there - e-mine: dirty tables, dishes, bottles - a real gulalovo. I go into the bedroom. There Dal sleeps with some woman. Nightmare, nativity scene, crow's settlement. I want to enter the office, and suddenly a girl I know comes out of there - in a shirt, barefoot. I call her to the kitchen: “Ira, it means this: I’m leaving now. I will arrive at half past two. At half past three, the apartment should be perfectly clean, the garbage dump is taken out, and you, whores, should not even be here in spirit. And I'm leaving. Went to the market. After an hour and a half, I call: “Did everything go?” - "Yes". - "Fine. You can go down."

I arrived - virgin cleanliness in the apartment, Volodya sleeps virginally on the bed, lonely Dal sleeps in another room. He woke up, went out, and for the first time in my life I saw a man's hands shaking and he drinks, holding a glass of vodka over his neck on a towel. Volodya did not have this. I didn’t say a word to Volodya later, he apologized. And then there was one unpleasant episode - only two in two years.

What is the story behind your wedding? Or is it a legend?

No, not a legend. The wedding is both Volodya's love and gratitude to me. He was generally a grateful person. When we started living with him and I spent the first night with him, we got up in the morning and I made the bed. For him it was a shock. I swear. He said: "You are the first woman who made the bed behind her..." I don't know about the others, but it turned out that they used it. And then suddenly he realized that I was doing this not because he was Vysotsky, but the person I love.

And yet, back to the failed wedding.

I think it was an emotional outburst. "I want you to be my wife." - "You are a bigamist, we cannot marry you." He went to church, and not to one, where he was told: “Please, only you first bring all the documents that you do not have a wife, and then we will marry you.” All this was in the last year of his life. He knew that he would die, and he wanted me to be officially recorded in his life after his death, so that I would not be left abandoned. But the church refused him. He said: “I will divorce Marina. And we will begin to live. - "Volodya, nobody needs it, forget it."

Did he say he wants to have children with you?

Yes. He would like a normal family. He liked it when it was cozy in the house, when there was food, when I cooked something. “Well, let's give birth to someone,” he said. “Well, Volodya, what will it be born? If born, then one ear, and then deaf. I joked so unsuccessfully that Volodya even went nuts: “Well, you have humor.” But I would never give birth to a child from him, because I was not sure that a healthy child would be born from a drug addict.

BLACK, RED-BLACK YEAR

The second year of their life is black and red.

There was much less red, and every day more black. Everything was as if without mood, because we lived in a state of illness and also because my dad died ... In general, everything bad started with the New Year, the 80th. First, the accident he and Yanklovich got into. Then - the picture was cut down to him, he practically left the theater, his physical condition began to deteriorate, the amount of drugs increased. I was oppressed by dependence on them, on the people who got them ...

Vysotsky and drugs. From them he had a clinical death in Bukhara?

It happened from an overdose, not from the heat. Volodya flew to Bukhara alone, then his administrator Valera Yanklovich called me. He said that Volodya was not feeling well and that I needed to bring medicine. I took promedol and flew out.

Weren't you afraid of being arrested for drugs?

You don't think about it at the moment. And then, I brought them once in my life. If I hadn't brought them, he would have died. There was no cocaine, no heroin, they were drugs. If they told me that now they will cut off my hand, but he will be healthy, I would say: "Chop it."

And in Bukhara, where we moved from Navoi, Volodya went for a walk around the market in the morning. But the people's love - it is boundless, and he either smoked, or something else (he never told), but he came home, and he became ill. Volodin's friend, Dr. Tolya Fedotov, was with us. He ran into my room: "Volodya feels bad." I fly into the living room - Volodya is dead: his nose is pointed, he is not breathing, his heart is not beating. And Dr. Fedotov, with absolutely shaking hands, repeats: "He died, he died." He was shaking, he was hysterical. I punched him in the face: "Do something quickly." He gave an injection into the artery, and we began to do artificial respiration: he pumped his heart, I breathed. In fact, the two of us revived him. Volodya began to breathe, consciousness returned. Then he told me that he saw me, Tolya. “I understood what was happening, but I couldn’t react in any way.”

Then came Yanklovich, Seva Abdulov (he also worked in concert). “Well, are we canceling the performance?” I say: “Wait a minute, but what, you can not cancel it? He just lay dead. Volodya, get ready, we're leaving for Moscow. Canceled not only today. There will be nothing more." I stood my ground. And we left. It seemed to everyone that this was nonsense, that he was eternal and would outlive everyone.

But with all this, you got the most difficult, if not nightmarish, period of his life. Its end.

The very last year... Nothing could be worse.

Did he beat you? After all, a drunk person is not responsible for himself?

No never. The fact is that I grew up in a creative, bohemian environment, where men - my father, my second cousins ​​\u200b\u200b(we lived in the same apartment) - were drinkers. But not alcoholics who are smart at the store for three, but a respectable drinking bohemia, with a normal alcohol addiction. I knew what alcoholics were like: my dad, for example, was very aggressive. I feared him and hated him at that moment. And Volodya ... The drinking began with a glass of champagne, and then ... we were going somewhere, he was torn somewhere until he fell. He was not aggressive, especially towards me. I worried and suffered, because I felt terribly sorry for him. It was terrible for him, because there was a complete degradation when a person got drunk to the state of an animal. Where to beat him, he could not speak in such a state. It was terrible to look at. With him, I found myself in the state of a woman who endures this binge and should try to help him.

Didn't you feel sorry for yourself?

No. I felt sorry for my friends. I tried to help him. And that means being there all the time. Because at that time, no one needed him. A person is needed when he is healthy, cheerful, rich. And this "drunk" headache is not needed by anyone. I didn't sacrifice myself. It just couldn't be any other way.

You talk about drugs so easily, as if, I'm sorry, you used them yourself.

At one time, Volodya told me: “If I ever find out that you have tried at least once, I will strangle with my own hands.” So I had a certain attitude towards it. And Volodya used drugs not because he was such a drug addict - he groaned and sits laughing, bald - but simply to feel physically normal.

Over the course of two years, I saw the doses increase. At first it was after the performance to recover. I remember that after Hamlet he could not sleep for a long time, he felt bad. And he gave himself an injection. “And what are you injecting yourself with?” I asked. "Those are vitamins." Once I fished this ampoule out of the garbage and found out that it was Promedol. Then there was Martin, Anapol - medical drugs.

Have you observed the effect of drugs on stimulating creativity?

He just felt better. Here he sits, absolutely no, he feels bad, but he gives an injection and is normal, lives a full life. He so wanted to jump off the needle. "I'm so tired of this," he said. Why did he die? He wanted to jump off, but legally it was impossible to be treated. He could not set up the people who got him drugs. He lay in Italy and in France. Did not work out. He even had a plan to go with me to the mines, to Vadim Tumanov's house What kind of horror, I think it would be: Volodya is with me in the taiga, with his withdrawal symptoms, and if he died there, I don’t know what would happen would. Nightmare. There were no mobile phones.

Explain what is so confusing: witnesses of that time, surrounded by Vladimir Vysotsky, write *. "Everyone knew he was going to die." Why will die? And why did everyone know? And why was it necessary to wait for death, instead of saving him?

As if everyone knew, but no one knew anything. Everyone thought that these were some kind of toys, that everything was not as serious as it really is. There was the Olympics, there was a regime in Moscow, everything is much stricter than usual. You couldn't get drugs. It was later that some said: “Why didn’t you say that he was so ill, I would have brought it, I had it.” Well, even if they had brought him on time, he would have injected himself and would have remained alive. What's next?

But basically everyone is to blame. After all, doctors from Sklif came to us, the council decided whether to put him in the hospital or not. But everyone was afraid to take responsibility - after all, this is Volodya. Doctor Fedotov, after his death, apparently felt remorse and put himself on a needle in order to experience what Volodya experienced.

And also parents. Very tough dad: "Volodya, it's impossible, it's a shame." He was a good man, but... For example, he hid for a long time that he was a Jew - this already somehow characterizes a person. Like Volodya, my father is Jewish and my mother is Russian. After Volodya's death, his father told me: "I think you should not come to the funeral."

Vladimir Semyonovich did not leave the house for the last week. Do you remember her or would you like to forget her like a bad dream?

I just don’t remember how I went to college, how I passed the exams. And I remember everything else. This had never happened to him before. Feeling of hopelessness. Scary. He screamed like a wounded animal.

14 V. Vysotsky

But did you think it was the end?

I couldn't even imagine it. It's strange that this happened at all, everyone was dumbfounded. If they allowed the thought that this would happen, they would probably not think about any legality, about reputation. They would just put him in the hospital, no matter what. It was assumed that everything is not so serious: we have never encountered this. A healthy young man took and died. He is healthy, he will overcome it - they thought so. And he really was very strong, athletic. He was engaged in boxing, acrobatics, he was so pumped up. Therefore, everyone thought that he would overpower, overcome, survive.

And Volodya foresaw everything. In the afternoon he said: "Today I will die." - "Volodya, don't talk nonsense." - "No, you are talking nonsense." He was calm. After all, I fell asleep only because there was some kind of strange silence and Volodya stopped screaming. He told me: “I feel fine, go to sleep” - “Yes? You are sure?" And literally in the three hours that I slept, he obviously died.

25 years have passed, and it seems that everything has been said about Vysotsky, about his life and death.

But there are things that only I know and about which I will never tell anyone. I was happy, and if you love a person, then no matter what happens to him, all the same - happiness. Who knows how things would turn out if we simulated our lives: he would leave Marina, marry me, we would have a baby. Volodya, probably, would also drink, would look at other women, and, probably, this would be a tragedy for me.

By the way, why do you have so few, almost no common photos with Vysotsky?

We didn't have it before. In addition, there were no "soap dishes" at that time.

Is he dreaming of you?

Dreaming, but rarely. I guess I'm some kind of chosen one - I've been lucky twice in my life. I had Volodya. And then I got Lenya, and I never thought that this could happen again. Lenya and I appeared due to the fact that Vladimir Semenovich was in my life.

What is the connection?

The most direct. Two years after Volodya's death, I came to the theater, and at the same administrative room where I met Volodya, I saw Lenya. She asked for a smoke. And it was important for me that he works in the same theater, that he knew Volodya, and he appreciated him very much. I remember when the film "The Same Munchausen" was released, Volodya and I watched it together. “God, what an amazing actor,” I say. - Any Balts? - “Why the Balts? This is ours, Yermolai." Lenya is similar to him in his life principles.

Are you saying that if that story were repeated at the Committee of Schedules in Gruzinka, then Lenya ...

Would kill.

Evgenia Yezerskaya:

"OKSANA YARMOLNIK - VYSOTSKY'S LAST LOVE"

It seems that their romance did not last long. But Oksana was the last to hear from Vladimir Vysotsky: "I love you." About love, which was interrupted by the death of the poet, Oksana Yarmolnik agreed to tell the reporter of "Telenedeli" ...

"WHAT DAY OF THE WEEK, WHAT TIME ..."

I was then eighteen years old. Volodya - almost forty The fate presented us with the first chance meeting at the Taganka Theater. I was in love with the theatre. But I never had idols, idols to follow and adore. Therefore, Volodya conquered me not at all with his popularity. His personality, his charm, strength and inner energy - that's what drove the student girl crazy. Volodya saw me in the theater administrator's room. I saw and was amazed. The most amazing thing is that I did not "herd" him or anyone else there. We really bumped into each other quite by accident. A moment - and a spark flared between us. Inevitable love. Volodya took the first step towards the novel. Asked for the phone, invited to a rendezvous. Apparently, everything happened, like everyone else. Before meeting with Volodya, my girlfriend and I went to the Moscow City Council Theatre. I didn’t see the stage or the actors, for the first time I didn’t pay attention to the performance. The whole performance only thought - to go to a meeting with Vysotsky or not. Take a risk and throw yourself into the pool with your head or get scared and run away, continuing to lead a calm, familiar life. But how could you resist this man? No force could stop me, yesterday's schoolgirl, from the temptation to become His "illusory happiness." Of course, I ran headlong to him! Into his arms. Love... Crazy, passionate, crazy love. I lived only for them. He is me. We drowned in each other, bathed in love, like in champagne ...

He was good enough for my father. I experienced a strange, but surprisingly pleasant feeling. Volodya treated me both as a daughter, and as a mistress, as a wife and as a friend. I saw him as a father, a husband, and a friend. He was everything to me. She lived at that time only for him and for him. I tried to isolate him from the needle and the "wheels" on which he sat. But everything is not so simple. How can you say to a cancer patient, "Don't get sick," or to an alcoholic, "Don't drink"? This is a disease that must be treated long and patiently. Volodya has never been a drug addict in today's sense. But to be frank, he took "wheels", certain medicines in the form of tablets, or injected. You know, he was "put" on drugs. It all started on the next tour of Vysotsky in Gorky. One woman doctor advised her recipe on how to get Volodya out of hard drinking, at least for the duration of the concerts. She claimed that she brought her alcoholic husband to life only with the help of pills and injections. We decided to try. Made one injection - helped. Then the second, the third... No binge, no hangover. Volodya is working. Everything seems to be wonderful. It remained to overcome only stress and hellish fatigue. Gradually, he began to take drugs, just to relax, relieve tension. One role of Hamlet is already a small death. Not every person will be able to “die” on stage every time. It is unbearably difficult both physically and psychologically. Every time Volodya died with Hamlet. But then he had to resurrect. This was repeated over and over again. The only thing that really helped him was drugs ... By that time, he was already firmly on them. But then the state of euphoria was replaced by deep depression and weakness. He himself dreamed of getting rid of drug captivity. And, of course, he was terribly afraid for me. He once said: "If I find out that you have tried this rubbish, I will kill you with my own hands." But, seeing his condition, it never occurred to me to give an injection.

"BUT ONLY THERE WAS THAT BRIGHT MOMENT THEIR SWAN SONG..."

The most important words in my life I heard only a year later. It happened in Bukhara. We lived in a hotel. Volodya suddenly came to a clinical death. He was miraculously saved. Helped by a local doctor. He made injections into the subclavian artery. And I, as best I could, did artificial respiration to Volodya. When Vysotsky regained consciousness, the first thing he said was: "I love you." I felt like the happiest woman in the world! It was very important for me. Volodya never threw such words and said them far from every woman who was in his life. Every day we lived like the last, on the limit... Although there were forebodings of trouble. And that last day has come. They say time heals. Maybe ... I'm alive, two years after the death of Vysotsky, I married Lenya Yarmolnik, gave birth to a child. But a part of me still died with Volodya ...

"LEARN AND TWO WINGS SPEND ..."

We also met Lenya at the Taganka Theater. Then we accidentally met on a visit to our common friend with Volodya. Leonid was with his wife, whom he married a month ago. He saw me and "died". Deeply in love. He left his wife the next day. And three days later he came to me with suitcases. And without any introductions and warnings. Apparently, he decided to apply shock therapy. Probably it should have been. In the two years that I lived after Vysotsky's funeral, there was not a single person nearby who was worthy of at least my fleeting attention. Everything seemed false and uninteresting to me then. Having met Lenya, I suddenly realized that this is the person with whom I can live. I do not know why. Suggested female intuition. Or maybe Volodya waved his wing over me ... Lenya knew who loved me before him. But we didn't even talk about it. It would be foolish to stir up the past. But if Leonid had been haunted by the consciousness of what was between me and Vysotsky, I would not have talked to him for even five minutes. It wouldn't let us be together. Moreover, no matter how wonderful Lenya was, Vysotsky remained the dearest man for me at that time. Leonid is a very wise man with a subtle soul. He understood everything. He knew that he must not only conquer me, but also keep me, establish himself in my life. And he succeeded. (4)

Leonid Isaakovich himself answers the questions of journalists about the long-standing romance of his current wife with the poet:

When you met, did she already have an affair with Vysotsky?

I often get asked about their relationship. This is a thing of bygone days. Everything has been overgrown for a long time. When Oksana met Vysotsky, she was 18. When he died, she was 20. And she met me at 22. There were a lot of rumors about this connection. Oksana at one time already said everything she wanted. And I ... This is not my story, so I can’t tell anything ...

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Vysotsky's classmate Izolda Meshkova (after her first husband - Zhukova) is the artist's first wife. They started dating when Isolde had not yet filed for divorce, and got married only after 4 years of relationship - in April 1960. Then Vysotsky graduated from the acting department of the Moscow Art Theater School. Isa was a course older than her husband.

“Vysotsky at that time was 19 years old, I was 20, my feelings were youthfully hot,” the actress recalls in her book “Short Happiness for a Lifetime”. - He called me Izulya, and I called him Wolf cub ... Life with Volodya was easy, sunny, despite the fact that we lived unsettled, “behind a screen”, without money. We often quarreled: it’s so intoxicating to say a bunch of words, to say everything and even more than “everything”, to run out of the house and get in a taxi: “Just please!” And at the same time know that Volodya is already driving in a taxi next.

A son was born in marriage - Gleb Vysotsky. However, another man became the father of the child. After the wedding, Isolde was invited to play in the Rostov Theater, and Vladimir Vysotsky went to his wife. Isolde offered her husband to stay and work with her, but Vysotsky began to serve at the Taganka Theater and act in films. On the set of the film 713th Asks for Landing, he began an affair with actress Lyudmila Abramova. She became pregnant from Vysotsky.

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When it became clear to both spouses that their guest marriage had fallen apart, a divorce was filed.

Now Isolda Vysotskaya lives in Nizhny Tagil and serves in the local theater.

Ludmila Abramova

Actress Lyudmila Abramova was married to Vysotsky from 1965 to 1970 and gave birth to two sons from the artist - Arkady and Nikita.

Both were born before the wedding of their parents. The couple separated before the official divorce - in 1968. Then Vysotsky already had feelings for Marina Vladi, and Abramova knew this.

57-year-old Arkady Vysotsky is an actor and screenwriter, the father of five children. 55-year-old Nikita Vysotsky, like his father, graduated from the Moscow Art Theater School and played in the theater, established the Vladimir Vysotsky Charitable Foundation, and also wrote the script for the film Vysotsky. Thank you for being alive".

Now Nikita Vysotsky teaches at the Department of Directing and Acting at the Moscow State Institute of Culture.

Now Lyudmila Abramova is 80 years old. After her divorce from Vysotsky, she remarried and gave birth to a daughter, but she always felt a connection with the artist. Abramova took part in the creation of the Vysotsky Museum.

Tatiana Ivanenko

In 1972, Vysotsky had a daughter, Anastasia. With the girl’s mother, the actress of the Taganka Theater Tatyana Ivanenko, Vysotsky had a long-standing relationship, but he was in no hurry to marry his mistress. Feelings for the spectacular foreigner Marina Vlady were stronger than the old affection for a colleague.

Vysotsky refused to acknowledge his daughter publicly, especially since she was born when he was already married to Vladi. Tatyana gave the child her last name, raised her daughter on her own and did not give a single interview. She once sued Express Gazeta, which published a false interview, and won the case.

Vysotsky's daughter Anastasia Ivanenko graduated from the journalism department of Moscow State University, worked on the Kultura channel, and is raising her daughter Arina.

Marina Vlady

Both Marina and Vladimir were interested in each other even before they met. He saw the 17-year-old actress in the 1956 film "The Sorceress" and lost his head, and she heard about the charismatic Russian and one day - in 1967 - came to see the vaunted artist at the Taganka Theater. At the banquet after the performance "Pugachev" Vladi and Vysotsky finally met - and fell in love.

Vysotsky was a famous seducer, but it was hard for Marina not to get carried away. The daughter of Russian emigrants, Vladi was the very fatal beauty who drove men crazy. The French actress of Russian origin was not at all in the "Soviet" format: she followed fashion, brought outfits from Paris, did not worry about public opinion and starred in explicit scenes in films.

Before Vysotsky, the actress was married twice, her sons Igor, Pierre and Vladimir grew up in France. She could not leave the children and lived in two countries. At this time, Vysotsky fought for the right to travel abroad - and for his own life.

Vlady was married to Vysotsky from 1970 to 1980 - until the death of the artist from acute heart failure. According to the widow, Vysotsky was killed not by alcohol addiction, but by drugs, on which he was unintentionally “hooked” by doctors. Doctors used morphine and amphetamines to “pump out” Vysotsky after drinking binges. Since 1977, Vysotsky himself has been systematically injecting himself. Breakdowns began, and in 1979 Vysotsky experienced a clinical death.

Vlady witnessed Vysotsky's severe attack at the very beginning of their relationship. In 1969, a vessel in his throat burst, bleeding began - doctors fought for the artist's life for about a day.

“I beg you to call an ambulance, your pulse has almost disappeared, I am in a panic,” the actress recalled in her book “Vladimir, or Interrupted Flight.” “The reaction of the arriving doctors and nurses is simple and cruel: too late, too much risk, you are not transportable. They don't want to have a dead person in the car, that's bad for the plan. Then I block the exit, shouting that if they don’t take you to the hospital right away, I will make an international scandal ... They finally understand that the dying man is Vysotsky, and the disheveled and screaming woman is a French actress. After a short consultation, swearing, they carry you away on a blanket ... "

For 12 years of relationship, Marina tried more than once to save Vysotsky from drugs and alcohol, but the artist was burdened by her care, and later - strict control. In conversations with a psychoanalyst, Vysotsky called his wife a "black cloud" hanging over him. For the past two years, the couple's relationship has been tense. The couple moved away from each other, and 40-year-old Vladimir Vysotsky became interested in 18-year-old student Oksana Afanasyeva.

Oksana Afanasyeva

Afanasyeva became the prototype of the heroine Oksana Akinshina in the drama Vysotsky. Thank you for being alive". She idolized Vysotsky, and he, according to rumors, even dreamed of getting married, but Marina Vladi stopped talking about divorce.

Oksana Yarmolnik seemed strange to me: so many opportunities, such a family - and suddenly some children's soft toys-animals? It seems to be a strong-willed, strong woman who will stop a galloping horse - and suddenly bunnies and kangaroos in ruffles. Kinda oversized...

In addition, I knew that Oksana was a dangerous interlocutor at a secular table: she could speak truthfully, but harshly and evilly. In this we are similar, but Oksana, to be honest, has greatly surpassed me. Write to Nikas Safronov in his own album that he is shit! .. Even I have not conquered such heights of trolling. But everything is ahead - Oksana has a lot to learn :)

In one interview you said: the key to a successful family life is that a woman should work.

When did you realize it?

When was born. (Laughs.) I didn’t have a mother, she died very early. My mother's sister, my aunt, said: “Oksana, you can only rely on yourself. Husbands come, they go, they change, they die, they may not exist at all.”

Did you start early?

At the institute (Oksana graduated from the Moscow Textile Institute. - Approx. SNC). I was friends with a Yugoslav company, and at some point the Yugoslavs began to bring branded labels. One night I made a dress, we slapped a label on it and sold it. Things went well, and I could always earn. After graduating from the institute, she was assigned to the Zarnitsa hat factory. It was necessary to come on the beep at seven in the morning and also leave on the beep - at seven in the evening. Can you imagine what a headdress was in Soviet times? A turban hat, a children's helmet, one "men's molded felt hat" and one molded women's hat - that's the plan for the month! I drew them in 13 minutes, then they sent them off for two days - and that's it, there's nothing to do. Horror! You can’t go out, we sat for hours smoking. Thank God, I got pregnant, my blood pressure rose, my hemoglobin dropped, I went on maternity leave and never returned to this job. But it gave me a lot later, when I started working in the theater. And I defended my diploma in the circus. Marina Zaitseva, Slava Zaitsev's ex-wife, Yegor's mother, was a phenomenal woman, just a genius. Everything Slava can do is Marina, everything Yegor can do is mom and dad. Marina has been working in the circus as a production designer all her life. I sewed a few things for presentation, called the collection "Circus".

And then you started working in theaters.

Yes. Sasha Borovsky and Zhenya Kamenkovich were invited to the Hermitage to stage The Little Giant of Big Sex: this is Fazil Iskander's first production in Russia. I sewed costumes for artists - myself, at home. And then there was "Snuffbox". But I'm tired of the theatre. Now, however, I am doing a performance in the Maly, but for me it is some kind of atavism.

You don't really like modern productions. I, on the contrary, love the modern theater and do not like the classical one, it seems to me that its time has passed.

The fact is that we grew up on Taganka, on the performances of Yuri Petrovich Lyubimov. Therefore, what is happening now in the modern theater is not modern, already passed, it is a repetition, but in a worse performance, because the artists are no longer the same. This is true.

Who is your favorite theater director?

Of today's - Zhenovach. And Valery Fokin - not very smooth, but meaningful and deep. As for the masters of modern form, I like Andrei Moguchiy. But from Gogol's "Marriage" he made directly the Coen brothers.

These are my favorite directors.

I love them too, but I didn't have enough text. Gogol has a brilliant text - but how do the actors pronounce it?! There should be a game between the actors, like in tennis, you tell me, I tell you - the theater is built on this. And when they turn "through the viewer" - the game is lost. This is not only my opinion.

You have a huge baggage: a good education, a lot of theatrical productions, you literally mastered the profession with your own hands. Why didn’t you develop yourself, why don’t you sell in fashion boutiques?

Ksyusha, I will never go to someone to ask for something.

But it's business, that's the way it works. It's like saying to an actor that he doesn't really like dating a director.

It's really not that much of a business. Clothes are for fun. I did interiors - that was the business. From there, too, I’m slowly leaving, I want to retire. It's tiring, a lot of responsibility for the people you give work to. I would already be sitting in the garden and writing books and pictures so as not to mess with anyone at all.

All the people with whom I spoke before the interview say that you have a very difficult character. They often talk about me too.

I have a vile personality.

They say that you are complex, angry at the tongue.

They perceive me this way - well, then, such people. There are those with whom I am kind, to whom I always come to the rescue. For example, with Lenya (Oksana's husband, actor and TV presenter Leonid Yarmolnik. - Approx. SNC), we do everything together. I guide him. You see, I always want people to know the truth. People flatter each other, say compliments, and then they do such shit. They gasp: “Oh, a wonderful performance!” When you want to say: “You know, your strong point is not the theater. Your strong point is mathematics”, “You are a wonderful actor. Why did you become a director?

It can be said in other words as well. Creative people are very vulnerable. I am sure Lena Yarmolnik you say it softly. Are there people in Moscow, which you frankly do not like?

Eat. For example, a wonderful artist Nikas Safronov. I have a history with him. What do you want?

The very phrase “the wonderful artist Nikas Safronov”, it seems to me, is already funny.

I ran into him several times. Once I made a list of those invited to a charity event in the gallery "Dacha". Nikas appears at the event. I ask: “Who called this?” They shrug their hands - he came. Safronov figures out where everything is happening, appears, gives interviews about how wonderful he is, how he helps everyone. At the same time, it does nothing. Starts to bargain, raises the lot to the limit. The person who wanted to buy the lot jumps off. And Nikas is washed away without redemption. This happened twice. There was also a third time: we held the “Dolls from a Star” campaign in the Metropol, the money was collected for specific children, by name. There were twenty dolls, twenty children. Nikas appeared in sweatpants - from the bathhouse, I was told. I was shocked. Observe: does the same. Raises the last lot to fifteen thousand dollars; a person who was willing to buy a doll for eleven does not bargain further. I ask the organizers: "Did you give the money?" - “He said that he was from the bathhouse, there was no money. Bring it tomorrow." - "Lies! Will not bring. I'll take care of myself." The next day, his secretary calls. I say: “Oh, how good! You probably wanted to bring money? - "No, there Nikas wanted to convey something to you." I got furious: “You know what, tell Nikas that if this bastard doesn’t give back the money again, I’ll call a press conference, I’ll arrange such a thing! I'll kill this goat with my own hands! He stole! He killed a child! He stole a child's life! This money was already there, he stole it, you bastard!” In general, I came home, my husband - to me: “I've lost my mind! Why are you doing this to him?" - “Lenya, I told him that he was a condom. She could not resist, she said: “Give this condom” (Laughs.) - “Listen, he will kill you - he will hire someone and give you a blow on the head. And he will do the right thing." I replied: “Laziness, he is a beast. I'm ready to go out myself and punch him in the face."

Did you end up paying the money?

No. But due to the fact that the girls were very excited and no one wanted a scandal, Nikas was covered up. I was told that he gave the money, but I know that this is not so. Some time later, Nikas sends us his album. I open it, it says: “Dear Leonid Isaakovich, I dream of painting your portrait, but I know that Oksana has a bad attitude towards my work. I hope she sees the album and changes her perception of me as an artist." I write the answer: “I looked at the album. The opinion has not changed. The artist is shit." And sent it back to him (laughs). Well, that's how I am. I do not care. Let him know that he is a shit artist. And a liar! He stole other people's work, signed other people's work with his own name and sold it!

That's funny. (Laughs) But it's true. Funny but true. Do you have only one such egregious story?

Well, such hatred - yes, one. Ksyusha, in fact, I really love people, especially talented ones.

I know the story with director Valery Todorovsky. He wanted to invite you as a costume designer to the Thaw. He really liked the way you work. But the group rebelled: “We will not work with Oksana, because she has a bad temper. We do not want".

Yes. Because I am a perfectionist. If a person works with me, then as I see fit. And yet they are accustomed to drinking coffee endlessly. Do not take off the dress. Can you imagine? With Dunya Smirnova, we made "Fathers and Sons" (a four-part feature film based on Turgenev's novel, 2008. - Approx. SNC). Here is my blue dress with crinolines and lace - one for the whole stage. Break. Three hundred times I say: “Girls, take off your dress! Put on your robes! No need to drink hibiscus in this dress!” Then I watch the picture: “The end! Now everyone is going to be killed! All!" Adabashyan is running (Alexander Adabashyan, screenwriter of the picture. - Approx. SNC) unhappy, hair on end. "What's happened?" - “They poured it on the dress, like this, right on the skirts, on the blue frills, hibiscus tea - this is red, creepy ...”

And in the Thaw, do you know who specifically outlived you?

No. (Smiling.) Valera said that the group, but I don't know who exactly. But I don't get upset because everything I want to do, I want to do alone. Now I will show you the book. Toys. I make them myself. I don't depend on anyone. I create what I want. I get great pleasure. All my work is loved. And evil people - you never know what they say?

Oksana, heading "Advice from the experienced." In a sense, we have a common situation. For two years of married life, I realized that the husband-actor is a very specific story. This is neither bad nor good. But there are some laws of their own: when to praise, when to support. Recently, I played in the theater to understand some part of Maxim's life, although I did not intend and do not intend to become an actress. I thought this experience would bring us closer. And in the end, during rehearsals, we fought like never before - neither before nor after. What is the secret of a long married life with an actor? After all, they are very special people. Tell me.

I'll tell you one story. The play “Woe from Wit” at the Maly Theater, which Zhenovach and I staged in 2000, is still going on and is madly loved by the people. He is considered one of the best. Lenya went to the premiere, but I came down with a fever and didn’t go. After the first act, the husband returned angry: “I am ashamed that my name is on the poster of this performance.” I said, “Okay. I will write my maiden one. The fact is that Lenya was jealous. Jealousy is a very strong thing, especially in men, especially in actors. God forbid you stepped into his professional territory and you succeed! Or even if you don’t succeed, but you arouse more interest than he does, there will be such jealousy! .. And if something works out, and even applause, his heart breaks. This is the nature of the profession. Fortunately, I never played with Lenya on stage. But it was enough without that: when I started making soft toys, my husband kept saying: “I'm ashamed! You are a merchant!" - "Lenya, I'm not a merchant, I'm an artist." “You sell toys.” “I don’t sell them, they buy them in stores.” Now he is very happy and proud. All the same, success is envied.

Every male actor has feminine qualities. Do you agree?

Certainly. Actors reflect more often and more than representatives of other professions. Poor people, what can you do? They have a very dependent job, lucky no luck. Age, material, directors - everything matters. What was different about the Taganka Theater? Each actor had a second amazing profession. Someone sang, wrote music, poems, plays, someone directed. Those people could open their own theater, make a movie, give a concert on the stage. And the current ones - they barely pronounce the text.

Well, not all. You often say - I read an interview: “Now young people are only interested in money! And we were interested in books in our youth ... "

Where did I say that? There are several thousand allegedly my interviews on the Internet, which I did not give.

Even now you say: “Today the actors...” Now there are also different actors. There is such a ... grumbling of the older generation.

Eat. There is grumbling. We understand this, but we also grumble about the case. And you will grumble. And ice cream for seven kopecks will seem the most delicious. And it's not just about acting. The school leaves. For example, at our institute now they teach Doldons, who were twos and threes. Those who remained at the pulpit washed something, signed something, defended themselves. And these people are now associate professors, deans, they teach. And who teaches doctors? Why do rockets fall? These are all links in the same chain. Zero education.

This is true.

Hence all the problems. And acting, and medical, and engineering. Unfortunately.

You began to talk about grumbling - and, of course, you are right. I'm just at the borderline right now. I am thirty-three years old - this is a complex story, a transitional one. Yesterday I watched a wonderful film that my friends made for Channel One, about Brodsky and, in particular, his women. In the photo with the poet - incredible beauties. Now they are eighty, ninety years old; many of them look great for their age, but still they are not those twenty-year-olds full of youth and health. This is a sore subject for beauties - the theme of age. I think it's sick for everyone. But especially for beauties. I see this with my girlfriends as well. I myself have never been beautiful and feel the loss not so.

What are you speaking about? What is the loss? You are just flourishing. A woman has the most beautiful age - from thirty to forty years. Is it true. Nineteen years is not beautiful.

I don't want to offend you - believe me, I say this about my mother too - but you were a dazzling beauty in your youth. You look great now - beautiful, spectacular, take care of yourself. But still you are not eighteen anymore. How are you doing?

There were, of course, moments of shock: “Oh my, what a horror! Cut here, pull up here, don’t eat, don’t drink.” But it passes. You look in the mirror and think: "For my fifty-five, I'm still nothing." And now I'm doing physical therapy. For me, now the main thing is that I wake up in the morning and just get up normally so that my back does not hurt.

Was it hard to accept yourself? What was this period like?

Abominable. But not fatal. Everything should be treated wisely and with humor, because we all grow old. Someone is lucky - for example, Galina Borisovna Volchek. She gets more beautiful every year. She's aging very beautifully... It's strange, does everyone really think I'm so disgusting? It seems to me that I am so cheerful, witty, I help everyone, kind. I love my friends so much. Very. And Lena too. We are always ready to help, we always have guests.

About Lena, I know this for sure.

And who invites guests? I! I say: “Lenya, there will be guests!” And he let's breed coal for barbecue. We have such a house. Unfortunately, the company has now shrunk. At one time, we were friends with Vanya Dykhovichny, he lived right with us. This was our circle: Borya Khmelnitsky, Lenya Filatov, Oleg Yankovsky, Alexander Abdulov.

Now, I know, you communicate with Prokhorov. Don't get mad at him?

I'm not angry, I pity him.

You're a truth-teller, tell it like it is. You see the situation with the elections to deputies (In 2014, Leonid Yarmolnik, a member of the Civic Platform party, was nominated to participate in the elections to the Moscow City Duma after Mikhail Prokhorov’s sister Irina withdrew her candidacy. Having lost, he said that “ I will never participate in elections again, because I have never seen greater disgrace and shamelessness in my life": "I met with voters in the yards twice a day. I know that all these people, with rare exceptions, voted for me. And won "United Russia". - Note SNC). You told the absolute truth about Nikas Safronov, I am ready to subscribe to every word. People respect this: "Everyone is silent, but she speaks like it is." So tell me, don't you think that the story with the elections and Misha Prokhorov came out somehow not quite right?

I told Prokhorov: “Mish, Lenya and I have never experienced such a feeling of shit poured on our heads.” Although they knew that most likely everything would be so. At the very beginning I said: “Laziness, why do you need this? Will you sit with people in jackets with sleeves like this?” They hoped that Lenya was still an artist and people knew him. There was such hope.

Do you regret that you contacted the Prokhorov team at all? Could just be friends with Misha, why politics?

We are still friends now. Misha is a passionate person. It seemed that everything would be fine, and when it became not normal, I said: “Mish, you see, we spent time smelling a piece of shit. But it's still an experience."

Did you take part in the elections?

I went, ticked the box - that's it. I remember friends saying: "We are going to vote for Lenya." I told them: “Whether you go, you don’t go, it will still be the way it should be.” But the most disgusting thing is that we arrived at the site just before closing. Some aunts are sitting there, a touching grandmother on crutches. “I,” he says, “came to vote for you.” We: "Well, thank you." No one even went into the booths, everyone openly put a tick for Lenya and threw the ballot into the ballot box. We are told: "Here, ninety-nine percent voted, Leonid Isaakovich, for you!" An hour later, United Russia won. Well, it was all clear. But unpleasant. Ksyusha, Misha is doing what needs to be done. Because if he does something else, it is very easy for Misha to deprive him of everything he has.

Final question. Whether you like it or not, you have entered the history of Russia. Like Yarmolnik's wife, like Vysotsky's girlfriend... And if you could write history yourself, in what capacity would you like to be remembered?

I would like my friends to remember me as a good friend. And relatives are like mother, grandmother. All.

That is, the ambitions of the artist, fashion designer are not so important to you?

Even at the institute, I realized that I would never be the fashion designer I wanted to be. Then, we already had Slava Zaitsev.

And now?

When I showed the collection at the Russian Fashion Week in Gostiny Dvor, I wrote that I was doing this for the first and last time. Talk, gossip, creepy tasteless scary collections - I hate the fashion crowd. I hate these people. I swear. Stylists and makeup artists piss me off. There are very talented, but, Ksyusha, there are only a few of them. Fashion designers, whom I adore and consider real artists, are even less so. Here is Tanya Parfenova - yes. The same Slava Zaitsev. They are artists. I look at what young people are doing and I don't understand what, where, why and how. What about tasteless things, also badly sewn? When Chapurin appeared, I just laughed out loud. You see, modeling is not only fashion design. It's also the quality of the performance. It's easy to make frilly clothes, but it's very difficult to make a regular dress that will fit nicely. Some dude from St. Petersburg recently came - one of those who consider themselves designers, sew on the money of their men. And I got to her show. My God! I have never seen anything worse! It's just awful! It's not even a design. She put on the heads of the models some things filled with cotton, some eggs, without eyebrows - well, horror! Since you put eggs on your head, then the clothes should be extremely futuristic, and there the girls walked in some kind of skirts. When did she appear... What is her name... who lived with Mamut?

Akhmadullina.

Here. Yes. She had a period when she did strong things. I liked it. But then everything went into commercial simplicity.

Yes, I understand the phrase “I hate this whole fashion party” (laughs).

Do fashion hangouts piss you off?