Arts & Entertainment, Art
Vladimir Makovsky and his painting "Children Running from a Thunderstorm"
The Russian land is rich in talents. She gave life to many of the brightest talents in various fields of arts, which became famous far beyond the borders of the fatherland, gaining world fame. To the cohort of celebrities by right belongs and a wonderful artist, master of everyday genre scenes Vladimir Makovsky.
Images of children in art
Description: Foreground
We can assume that we have two sisters in front of us - an older girl, 10-11 years old, and quite a small one, 3-4 years old. They are from a poor family, after all, both barefoot and dressed absolutely plain. The oldest is a white linen shirt with elbows rolled up to the elbows and a dark, almost old-fashioned, sarafan. A large brown apron is tied over the top, into which the collected mushrooms are folded. The costume of cheap beads around his neck and a red thin handkerchief, which is almost on the back of the head and barely keeps on golden-blond hair, revitalizes the outfit . They are disheveled by the gusts of the wind, climb into the eyes, but their mistress has no time to fix the naughty strands. From time to time, she looks back. Anxiety is caused not so much by the unraveling element as by the baby sister, which the eldest bears, planting on her back.
The chubby little face of the younger girl is skewed with fright, the eyes are glittering anxiously, they are clearly tearful. Makovsky treats her with sincere sympathy. Children who flee from a thunderstorm are written to him lovingly and with pleasure - we feel it in precise, neat strokes, expressive of the faces of the heroines, their poses, the sharpness of their movements.
The right and left parts of the composition
Background
What amazes the picture of "Children Running from a Thunderstorm"? The description can not be completed without a close examination of the background. And he's gorgeous too! The figures of the girls rise above the whole composition, behind them - the field with the already ripe golden wheat, and further, to the horizon, the forest bristles with greenery. Its outlines are lost in cloudy pre-threatened air. In the sky, the clouds are dark, with luminous clouds. The cold gusts of the wind drive them forward, into an unknown country. Here and there the sun is still flashing, as though resisting the onslaught of the storm to the last. But everything is useless, the storm is about to burst with lightning, tear up the space with thunder and will wash the earth with a cleansing blessed rain.
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