"THE LAST EMPEROR"
1991, canvas, oil, relief pastes, golden foil, 195x156 cm.

The 29th of May - the Byzantium falldown, the day when the Turks cap-tured Constantinopole.

555 years ago - an incredible date - Mehmed the 2d’s hords captured Constantinopole. The Turks killed all the men who were fighting, then they began to sack the city and torture people. In Hagia Sofia children and women were raped on the altar, priests lost their heads during prayers...

The Byzantine Empire survived in the far northern forests and it is called - our (e.g. Russians’) motherland. The same religion, the same arms, the same striving for self-isolation, stagnation...

But what is interesting with this drama is the figure of the last Byzantine Emperor, Constantine XI Palaiologos - his body was identified by his boots embroided with eagles.

I made this large, almost two-meters picture "The Last Emperor" long time ago and today formally it is not avantguarde, but a romantic youthful work - although perhaps some time it will become its great advantage))) - there is a kind of credibility and sincereness in it...

This is how I thought then, naive yet honestly I suppose: to die properly is important for everyone, especially for a man. There are notions "Byzantine politics", "Byzantine perfidy" - and that is exactly what their politics was like - Nikolay Gumilev drawn the stories for his play "Poisoned tunic" from a rich source. And this man - the last Byzantine Emperor, expiated all the sins at once - before the storm the Genoeses proposed him to bunk, even the galley was waiting for him - but he refused. He could grab the national assets, live long rich life in Italy... He refused, and the next day when the storm happened he died together with his soldiers. Are there any present polititians ready to act like this? I doubt...

When the sultan Mehmed ordered to bring the Emperor, he was told that he was not among the captives. - Then find him! They cought a barber from the palace who knew the Emperor's face - and this poor man was walking around the city with soldiers, checking all the corpses and cut heads. Imagine that tens of thousands of dead bodies were laying over the streets, and the end of May was quite southernly hot. The barber was checking corpses for two days - from dusk till dawn, after that he went crazy by the way - and finally at the St. Roman gates he found the body, chopped up like a mincemeat - now we know only that "it was armed and weared red caligae", i.e. boots decorated with the double-headed eagle. Only one man in the world could be wearing such shoes - the Emperor.

The paradox of the story is that sometimes chosing death a man gains eternal life, and chosing life remains piece of shit. A famous hagakure echoes - You cannot defeat that who died honourably.

No lifetime portrait of Constantine remained, we have only late Greek pictures, French engravings - that is why I decided not to paint his face in details. Except the eyes - they show character. Infernal green plants on the christian mosaic - rootless and tall as minarets. A small figure - John the Baptist, the Angel of desert. Today the desert is still there - the wilderness of spirit.