Mirror &

Pomegranate

Mirror & Pomegranate

Mirror & PomegranateWorks from the private archives of

Andrey Tarkovsky and Sergei Parajanov

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Andrey Tarkovsky is considered by many to be one of the greatest filmmakers the world has ever seen. Although he made just eight feature films before his life was cut tragically short by cancer, at the age of 54, each is an artistic masterpiece and a major landmark in world cinema. This exhibi-tion will present a portfolio of Polaroids produced in association with the Florence-based Tarkovsky Foundation archive, which is maintained by the filmmaker’s son Andrey Tarkovsky. Taken in Russia and in Italy between 1979-1984, ranging from romantic landscapes and studied portraits to private shots of the auteur’s family and friends – including late distinguished script-writer Tonino Guerra – all the photographs demonstrate the singular compositional and visual-poetic ability of this master image-maker. Many of the Polaroids that were created in Russia complement and extend the personal imagery of the film Mirror (1974). Equally rewarding cross-fertilization is apparent in the images that were taken in Italy while he was travelling with Tonino Guerra and preparing Nostalgia (1983). Indeed, from when Michelangelo Antonioni first gave Tarkovsky the Polaroid camera as a gift, in the 1970s, it rarely left his side. This show pairs Tarkovsky’s Polaroids and projected scenes from his movies with photo collages and other works by Sergei Parajanov, on loan from the Parajanov Museum in Yerevan, Armenia, founded in 1988 when Parajanov moved there from Tbilisi, Georgia. Sergei Parajanov is one of the most daring and visionary directors to emerge from the former Soviet Union. Legends such as Fellini, Antonioni and Tarkovsky crowned Parajanov with titles like “genius”, “magician” and “a master”. His unique, explosive cinematic language has no analogies in the world. In spite of his international acclaim,

IntroductionHenrietta Foster

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Flying Parajanov. (ca.1960s) Photo by Yuri Mechitov

Meeting A New Cast Member. Beauty Photo by Layla Alexander-Garratt

Two geniuses of Soviet film were bound with tender friendship. It’s really remarkable how highly they both were valued by their colleagues and film specialists in the West and what bouts of animosity and hostility they had to experience at home from cinema bureaucracy and their loyal and servile colleagues. I want to quote what Parajanov said about Tarkovsky when talking to young artists and scientists in Belorussia in December 1971. This talk cost him dearly and was in fact the reason of his first arrest and imprisonment. “I was shocked by the art of Andrzhei Wajda and could never think that I could become his mentor. In the same way I found a mentor in a very young and hugely talented director Andrey Tarkovsky. He himself is probably not quite aware what a work of genius his Ivan’s Childhood was and what incredible heritage he revealed to be plundered and his thinking to be copied and imitated on the way towards associative cinema”. This is a good evidence how tenderly the two geniuses treated each other, sharing their love and admiration without any embarrassment. V. Katanyan in his book on Parajanov gave a very accurate assessment of Parajanov made by Tarkovsky: “He’s not doing collages, dolls, hats, drawings or anything else that can be termed as design. No, it’s something else. It’s so much more full of talent and divinity. It’s real art. What is its beauty? In immediacy and directness. When an idea is born he’s not planning, constructing or contemplating a way to make it better. For him there’s no gap between the concept and its realisation, so he doesn’t lose anything. Emotion that was there at the outset reaches the final product in its pristine purity, immediacy, naiveté, without any single drop of it being spilled. That’s how it was in his film The Colour of Pomegranates. I’m not even talking about his independence and non-engagement. For us all he’s completely unreachable. We’re not capable of what he does. We’re just employees”. In one of the letters from prison to his wife Svetlana Parajanov writes that time would put everything in perspective. It looks like this time has finally come.

Translated by Alexander Kan

Tarkovsky on ParajanovZaven Sargsyan

Parajanov was a constant target for the Soviet system. No other director suffered such a fate as Parajanov; he was arrested twice on fabricated charges and as a result he spent five years in hard labour camps. After his release he wasn’t allowed to work for fifteen years. Deprived of the opportunity to make films, he dedicated his life to making collages, drawings and other art forms. Parajanov won countless awards, including the British Academy Award for his film Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. Andrey Tarkovsky wrote about Sergei Parajanov: “He makes collages, dolls, hats, drawings, or something that you may call ‘design.’ There is much more to it, though: it is infinitely more talented and noble; it is real art. What is the secret of its beauty? The spontaneity. When an idea strikes him, he does not engage in planning, arranging, or estimating how to do it in the best possible way. There is no differ-ence between an idea and its implementation; there is no time to lose anything between the cracks. The emotion that triggered creation turns into something finite without a single drop spilled. It gets through in its original pureness, spontaneity, and naiveté.” The great friendship of Tarkovsky and Parajanov began in early 1970s, when they met in Kiev (Ukraine) not long before Parajanov was imprisoned. They regarded each other as geniuses. When Parajanov was arrested, Tarkovsky along with many of his great contemporaries such as Lilya Brik, Federico Fellini, Vasily Katanyan, Vasily Shikshin, Yuri Lubimov, Kira Muratova and many others wrote letters to him and to the Soviet authorities. Tarkovsky wrote often to Parajanov; he also send him his own collages in exchange to the ones Parajanov made for him in prison.

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Parajanov with Tarkovsky. 1982 Photo by Yuri Mechitov

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18.10.1974 1153

Dear Seriozha,You’re right. Vasya’s1 death is just a link in that common chain that keeps us together. We all here love you very much, miss you and are waiting for you to come back. How’s your health? Are you able to get the books that you want? Please let me know (when you have a chance) whether there is anything I can do for you. Things in Moscow are same as ever. It’s taken them more than half a year to approve of my “Mirror” but at last it now looks that the film might be signed off one of these days. I’m really tired of all this senseless bureaucratic hassle. I will go the countryside on the Oka for the entire winter. You’re probably aware of what kind of shock your story caused in Moscow. How strange: to love and value each other, we usually wait for an extraordinary cataclysm, as a permission to do so. Right they say: “there is no prophet in his own land”! The only thing that gives me hope is your courage that is bound to save you. You’re a man of an incredible talent (that’s to put it mildly). And people of talent are usually strong. Let the best in your soul strengthen and help you now. Larisa says hello and Galia Shabanova sends her greetings.

Hugs,Your friend Andrey Tarkovsky.

Tarkovsky’s Letters to ParajanovTranslated by Alexander Kan

1. Vasily Shukshin (1929-1974) – writer, director, actor

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22.1.1976 1155Moscow

Dear Seriozha,I’m really sorry – I haven’t written to you in a long while and I know it’s unforgivable. For more than six months I lived in the country with Larisa and Andriushka. I was getting ready for the “Hamlet” production that I will be staging at the Lenkom Theatre (Mark Zakharov) and was also writing a script on Hoffmann for Tallinn. (These days nobody really knows how to stage Hoffmann or what he really means). Nobody could stage him better than Sergei Parajanov. In the countryside I was mostly busy with the construction of a new barn. I managed to build a wonderful barn, 40 sq. metres, with an overhang and the slated roof. Unfortu-nately no pictures so far to send you. We had a wonderful time there and I started feeling that I could probably live without the God forsaken and long-abandoned art of cinema. Living like this all my life, on the bank of the river, and writing an endlessly long book which my son would continue writing after my death, and then his son, and so on and on and on…). And living with our own work. We have a vegetable patch 1,500 sq. metres and a small garden. Here I can’t bear it anymore: futile persuading everybody how important the art of cinema is. I really feel I’m getting closer and closer to the realisation of this idea. What keeps me from it is vanity and regret about my forgotten talent: both feelings paltry and insignificant. The Strugatsky brothers (with my participation) are writing a script for me. I’m planning to finish its production by the spring of 77. But it’s just me planning. There’s been a lot of what I’ve been planning, but not much came out of it. I came back from the country in mid-December and was not pleased to see either Moscow or the Muscovites. In any case, there’s too much work for me (unlike the money). I can hardly resist the burden of its pressure and just swim along the current. I have to release my theatre produc-tion in May and in the autumn I’m supposed to start shooting. But… man proposes… I’m seeing a lot of Sasha Antipenko these days – he’s staying at the Mosfilm hotel, in the same building where I live. I also saw Galia Shabanova a few times – we always talk about you when we see each other. How are you? How’s your health? What do you need out of things that you are allowed to receive by mail? Please write or send me a message through a letter to somebody else if you’ve already exhausted your letter limit. My warmest hugs. I wish you patience, courage and help. Larisa screams to say she’s joining in all the greetings and wishes.

YoursAndrey Tarkovsky.

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Dear Seriozha,I haven’t written to you for a while, bearing in mind the possible change of your postal address. (Mine, by the way, has also changed. See the envelope) I recently saw G.Kalatozov2 who had received your letter and found out that things are the same with him. I’m again without work. I submitted an application for “The Idiot” after Dostoevsky. It’s been a few months now but there’s no movement whatsoever. All they say is “no”, and “don’t know”. “Mirror” was printed in a meagre number of copies and it’ll probably be screened only very marginally. I hope I’ll manage to stage “Hamlet” in one of the theatres. I feel it like a pressing urge. About a month ago I was in Tbilisi for a screening of “Mirror” and saw a lot of our friends. Of course we talked a lot about you. I also went with my wife to Leningrad and saw Sasha Antipenko3 there. What a great guy! We became great friends and hardly parted all the time we were there. My life, however, is moving at a very slow pace. Can’t wait to get back to work. But this is just an aside. How are you? Is there any news? How’s your health? Hold on and be strong. We all need you very-very much. I hope you’ll have enough strength even when you seem to be completely out of it. I saw a documentary on TV recently - on medicine and human psyche. A man there was doing really hard work: again and again. He was lifting a heavy weight over and over again until he was completely exhausted. Then he was hypnotised into believing that the weight became twice as light as it had been. He resumed lifting the same heavy weight again and again until again he felt completely exhausted. Then he was hypnotised again and believed that the weight was really light (while in fact it stayed the same). And he lifted it again and again… This is about the underused resources of our psyche. I wish you strength, health and believe that all will end well.

Hugs,YoursAndrey T. P.S. As soon as something new in my life happens I will write straight away.

2. Georgy Kalatozov – cameraman, director3. Alexander Antipenko (b. 1938) – cameraman who worked with Parajanov on his film Kiev Frescoes

which was banned and remained unfinished.

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18. 2. 76 1156Moscow Dear Seriozha,I received your letter. Thank you very much – from myself as well as from Larisa. Yesterday at the “Hamlet” rehearsal we talked a lot about you with Archil Gomi-ashvil4 – he’s playing Claudius. I work a lot these days, and get really exhausted. It’s work for the sake of work, because the pay is really miserable. Also I’m not feeling well. My eyesight is getting worse – I need to order spectacles. There are hardly any results of my work, they’re invisible. And enjoying work – even the most creative one – is not really something I can do (unlike you). I can’t really cherish it, or be happy about the achieved success. By the way, here’s a quote from Horace that I remembered and found: “ The tall pine’s more often shaken by the wind, and it’s a high tower that falls with a louder crash, while the mountainous summits are places where lightning strikes.” As to your application to be transferred – I don’t even know what to say, it’s obviously beyond me. In any case, it’s a serious issue, and before making any decisions you should take into account all possible consequences, rather than rejecting it just out of principle or of fear of changes. I was really amused by your story about Angélique5. It just proves again the existence of one and only form for art. I wouldn’t want to call it “primitive”, but it’s essential, just as our daily bread. And therefore it’s timeless. Just as bread is. As soon as there’s no bread, there’s no man. As soon as there’s no art, there’s no man. The difference is that man knows that he can starve to death without bread. But he doesn’t know that he can starve to death without art. Only a few know. (I’m sending you a few shots from “Rublev”. It’s from a (test) widescreen copy that never got realised. It’s the scene of Andrey parting with Daniil). As to [Lilya] Brik’s letter - Larisa will keep it for you. As for me I don’t need it. I have a firm opinion about you, and let me assure you, it’s deeper. For two reasons: 1) we are of the same generation (nearly) 2) we are birds of a feather, both artists. There’s a third reason: I always say the truth. You are more talented than they think you are. But I may be wrong. But in any case you’re an infinitely kind man. Unlike me. Or rather I’m not indifferent to the reasons and motivations of what people do while you don’t really care, you just can’t be bothered. Warmest hugs, wish you health and courage. Andrey T. Larisa sends her love.

4. Archil Gomiashvili, actor, was supposed to be in the Kiev Frescoes film5. Angelique and the King, a 1966 French historical romantic adventure film, hugely popular in the

USSR in the 1960-70s (translator’s note)

Parajanov with Tarkovsky. 1981 Photo by Yuri Mechitov

Collages1973 – 1989

Sergei Parajanov

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ArchivesSergei Parajanov

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Polaroids1973 – 1984

Andrey Tarkovsky

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Photography

A fine wind blows into the heart,And you fly headlong on,While love within the roll of filmHolds the soul fast by its sleeve.

Bird-like she steals grain by grainFrom oblivion – and now?She does not let you fall to dust,Even dead you’re still alive –

Not wholly but a hundredth part,In muted tone or sunk in sleep,As if you wandered through some fieldIn a land beyond our ken.

All that’s dear and seen and livingMakes the same flight as before,Once the angel of the lensHas your world beneath his wing.

Arseniy Tarkovsky, 1957

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I remember so well, in 1980, my Father coming back from Italy, carefully unpacking his Polaroid camera from its coloured wrapping paper, and taking his first shots. He was collecting material for Nostalgia, and took masses of photographs: the family, the Vorobiov Hills, the countryside around Riazan where our house was, of which he was very fond. Thick mist hanging over the river, twilight, the moon above the roof of our house: these moments of our life, imprinted on film, were the basis of the visions and dreams of Andrey Gorchakov, the hero of the film. Even the photographs he took in Italy remind me of Russia, he seemed to make a point of finding landscapes reminiscent of Russia, of his own native places – which he was never to see again. Nostalgia is surely one of my Father’s most autobiographical films, though at the time nobody realised how prophetic it was to be for him. The day before he left to start shooting in Italy, in March 1982, he opened the Polaroid for the last time and took a few pictures. None of us was aware that he would never return, but for some reason we all felt unbearably sad. Somebody took one of the two of us together: we are sitting on the sofa in his study, he has his arm round my shoulders, he has an awkward smile and looks unhappy, on the wall behind us, among the pictures and icons, is an old mirror in a carved frame that no longer reflects anything at all. However personal these photographs are, I am sure that everyone who sees them will appreciate them and be able to relate to them. Whether he was working with Polaroid or cinema film my Father created artistic images, the power of which lies in their direct impact, in the way creator and viewer become spiritually as one. As he himself said, ‘An image is not some idea as expressed by the director, but an entire world reflected in a drop of water. In a single drop of water!’

Florence, 15th October 2007.

PolaroidsAndrey A. Tarkovsky

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Sergei Parajanov, film-maker and artist, used to say: “I have three motherlands – I was born in Georgia, worked in Ukraine and will die in Armenia”. Sergei Parajanov (Sargis Parajanyants) was born in 1924 in Tbilisi, into an Armenian family. Upon graduating from VGIK (State Institute of Cinematography), Moscow, he was directed to Kiev’s Dovzjenko film studio. Here in 1963 he created the film Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors, which brought him both worldwide popularity and persecution. His next film, the antiwar Kiev’s Frescoes, was banned. In 1966 he was invited to Armenia, where he shot his best known film The Colour of Pomegranate (Sayat-Nova), which underwent heavy Soviet censorship before release. Nevertheless, this film won international recognition, as well as further provoking the authorities. The film-director was imprisoned for five years in the Ukraine and seven and a half months in Georgia, depriving him of the possibility of working in cinematography for over 15 years. He was eventually permitted to make films in 1983, in Georgia, where he made The Legend of Suram Fortress. In spite of Parajanov’s hard life and unmerited sufferings, there is no malice evident in his art. He followed the principle of answering evil with kindness, as he put it, “to revenge by love”. When the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict started in 1988, Parajanov was making his film Ashib-Kerib which had Muslim themes. The film was shot in Azerbaijan, Parajanov deciding not to interrupt the work despite the discontent of many Armenians. During the years Parajanov was unable to shoot films and even when imprisoned, he continued his creative activity – painting, making collages, puppets and hats out of any materials that he came across. “I was prohibited to make films and started to create collages. A collage is a compressed film”, he said. In 1988 the Armenian Government built a house-museum for Parajanov, in Yerevan. However, as Sergei often joked, his life resembled the Opera Traviata; when Alfred finally returns, Violetta dies. Unfortunately, because of the 1988 earthquake, construction of his museum was only completed in 1991, a year after Parajanov’s death, in Yerevan.

Biography Sergei Parajanov

FilmographySergei Parajanov

1954 Andriesh. 60min.1960 Hands of Gold. 35min.1957 Dumka. 25min.1958 The First Lad. 85min.1959 Natalia Uzhvij. 35min.1961 Ukrainian Rhapsody. 90min.1962 Flower on a Stone. 80min. 1964 Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. 97min.1966 Kiev’s Frescoes. 20min.1967 Hakob Hovnatanyan. 10min.1968 The Colour of Pomegranates (Sayat-Nova). 75min. 1984 Legend of Suram Fortress. 88 min.1986 Arabesques on the Pirosmani Theme. 25min. 1989 Ashik-Kerib. 75 min.

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Filming of Ashik Kerib. 1988 Photo by Yuri Mechitov

Andrey Arsenievich Tarkovsky was born on 4 April 1932 in Zavrazhie village on the Volga. He was the son of the poet Arseniy Tarkovsky and Maria Ivanovna Vishniakova, who divorced while he was still a child. His father’s poetry features in Mirror, Stalker and Nostalgia, while his mother makes an appearance in Mirror. Tarkovsky studied Arabic at the Moscow Institute of Oriental Languages between 1951 and 1954, dropping out of his studies to work as a prospector, participating in a year-long research expedition to the river Kureikye, in Siberia. It was during this time that Tarkovsky decided to study film, enrolling in the famous VGIK Moscow film school in 1959. In 1960 he made his prize-winning graduation short, The Steamroller and the Violin. Tarkovsky made 5 films in the Soviet Union, including Andrey Rublev and Stalker. His efforts were not appreciated by the authorities, who extensively cut or limited the distribution of his films. These difficulties started to take their toll on Tarkovsky, who suffered a heart attack in 1978, culminating in his decision in the early 1980s to leave Russia permanently. The few remaining years of his life were plagued by a constant struggle with the Soviet authorities to allow his family, particularly his young son, Andrey, to join him. His filmmaking career started again in Italy where he followed the television documentary Tempo di viaggio (1983) with his most accomplished film since Mirror, Nostalgia, written in collaboration with the distinguished screenwriter Tonino Guerra. By the time Tarkovsky started work in Sweden on his final film, The Sacrifice, he was seriously ill with cancer. He died on 29 December 1986 and was buried at the Russian cemetery Sainte-Geneviève-des-Bois near Paris.

Biography Andrey Tarkovsky

FilmographyAndrey Tarkovsky

1960 The Steamroller and the Violin (short)1962 Ivan’s Childhood1966 Andrey Rublev (rel. 1971)1972 Solaris 1974 Mirror1977 Hamlet - Lenkom Theatre (Moscow)1979 Stalker1983 Tempo di viaggio TV documentary1983 Nostalgia1983 Boris Godunov (Moussorgsky)

- Royal Opera House (London)1986 The Sacrifice

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Tarkovsky’s Favourite Landscape On Gotland. A Minute’s Break Photo by Layla Alexander-Garratt

Cover imageTarkovsky’s Night Bird. 1987 Collage. Silk, photo, paper, reproduction clippings. 25x18 cm. Photo by Yuri Mechitov (1982)

Page oneFrom the series Several Episodes from Giaconda’s Life. 1988Collage. Reproduction clippings, artificial pearls, aluminium foil, metal brooch. 53x55.5 cm

Page eightAndrey Tarkovsky. (ca. late 70’s)Collage (album page). Photographs, cigarette box.

Page sixteenFall of Venice. 1984 Collage. Fabric, lace, reproductions, cigarette boxes. 33x24 cm

Page seventeenNato Vachnadze. 1984 Three-dimensional collage. Wooden frame, glass, photo, peacock feathers, postcard clipping, plastic details, artificial pearls, brass foil, seashells.34x42x2 cm (with frame)

Page eighteenFellini’s Letter. Early 1980s Collage. Fellini’s letter, postcard, paper, lace, feathers, brocade, foil. 23x28.5 cm

Page nineteenAngel Tamara. Sketch for Demon. 1987. Collage. Carton, postcard clippings, fragments of Christmas tree decorations, china pieces, brocade, tulle, beads, dry fern. 22x30x1.5 cm

Page twentyMarilyn Monroe. 1980 Collage. Reproduction, lace, feathers, bijouterie. 22.5x32.7 cm

Collagesby Sergei Parajanov

ArchivesSergei Parajanov

Page twenty oneFrom the series Several Episodes from Giaconda’s Life. 1988 Collage. Reproduction clippings, seashells, broken glass, cornelian, beads, mother of pearl. 27.5x36.5x1 cm

Page twenty twoSelf-Portrait in Istambul. 1989 Collage. Photo, felt-tip pen, postcard clippings. 18.5x29.5 cm Photo by Ara Güler (Turkey)

Page twenty threeDodo is Pinching Cigarettes. 1984 Collage. Paper, reproductions, photos. 28.5x37 cm Detail of a reproduction of René Magritte’s Treasure Island.

Page twenty fourShroud for a Dead Thief. 1982 Handkerchief, ballpoint pen, pencil. 37x37 cm

Page twenty fiveMy Father’s Portrait Torn Apart Out Of Jealousy. 1983-1984 Collage. Photo, fragment of oil painting on canvas. 44x39 cm

Page twenty sixParajanov with his son Suren. 1972 Collage. Photo, flowers

Page twenty sevenPraying for Andrei. December. 1986. Collage. Photo, ball-point pen

Page twenty eightThe Last Supper. 1973 Collage. Painted photo reproduction, reproductions segment of a cardiogram tape, lace, ground glass from a Christmas tree decoration. 60x49 cm

Page forty two and forty threeFrames from The Colour of Pomegranates (Sayat Nova).1968

Page forty fourFilming of The Colour of Pomegranates (Sayat Nova).1968.

Parajanov’s home in Kiev. (ca. end 1960s)

Page forty fiveFilming of The Colour of Pomegranates (Sayat Nova). 1968.

Page forty sixParajanov’s home in Tbilisi. 1985 Photograph by Zaven Sargsyan

Parajanov with Levon Abrahamyan. 1985 Photograph by Zaven Sargsyan

Page forty sevenFilming of The Legend of Suram Fortress 1984. Photograph by Yuri Mechitov

Parajanov. 1986. Photograph by Yuri Mechitov

Page forty eightFilming of Ashik Kerib. 1988 Photograph by Zaven Sargsyan

Parajanov. 1980. Photograph by Yuri Mechitov

Page forty nineFilming of The Arabesques Pirosmani. 1985 Photograph by Yuri Mechitov

Parajanov with Y. Mgoyan. 1986 Photograph by Yuri Mechitov

Page fiftyParajanov and Lilya Brik. 1978 Photo by Valeri Plotnikov

Page fifty oneWe are seventeen. (ca. 1970s)

Page thirtyAndrei-Spartak. (ca. second half of 80s) 25x20 cm

Page thirty oneTo the Memory of Tarkovsky. 1989 26x19 cm

Page thirty twoRepentance. Dedicated to Vasili Katanyan. 1989 Three-dimensional collage. Reproduction clippings, silk, lace, mother of pearl, seashells, buttons, engraved wood detail, clockwork, peacock feather, artificial pearls, metal bijou, corals, plastic beads. 43.5x53.5x2 cm

Page thirty threeMargarita, Encore Margarita. 1976 Mixed technique. Paper, ballpoint pen, pencil, brass gauze, dry plants, drops of wood tar. 29x35 cm

Page thirty fourMarionettes Holding Elections. 1985 Collage. Reproductions, postcard clippings, cloth flowers, brass plates. 73.5x43.5 cm (with frame)

Page thirty sixI Sold the Dacha. 1985 Collage. Photo, postcard clippings, reproductions, clock dial, button, tinsel. 61x45.5 cmPhoto by Yuri Kurbatov

Page thirty eightSelf-Portrait. (ca. late 80’s) Collage

Page thirty nineRotterdam Film Festival poster. 1988

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Page fifty sixSelf-Portrait, San Gregorio, 23 November 1983

Page fifty eightSan Gregorio, 24 June 1984

Page fifty nineLarisa Tarkovskaya, San Gregorio, 1983

Page sixtyMyasnoe, 26 September 1981

Page sixty oneMyasnoe, 8 September 1980

Page sixty twoSan Gregorio, 11 June 1984

Page sixty threeLarisa Tarkovskaya, San Gregorio, 14 July 1984

Page sixty fourNear Bagno Vignoni, August 1979

Polaroidsby Andrey Tarkovsky

Page sixty fiveBagno Vignoni, 1979-1982

Page sixty sixDomiziana Giordani, actress, Bagno Vignoni, 2 November 1982

Page sixty sevenGrisha, the Cat, San Gregorio, 25 January 1984

Page sixty eightMyasnoe, 28 August 1981

Page sixty nineMyasnoe, 26 September 1981

Page seventyAndrey A. Tarkovsky, Myasnoe, 28 August 1981

Page seventy oneAndrey A. Tarkovsky, Myasnoe, 28 August 1981

Page seventy twoBagno Vignoni, 1979-1982

Page seventy twoTonino Guerra, Near Bagno Vignoni, 1979-1982

Page seventy threeGuiseppe Lanci, Monteranno, 28 April 1982

Page seventy fourOtricoli, October 1982

Page seventy fiveMyasnoe, 26 September 1981

Page seventy sixNear Città Ducale, Church in the water, October 1982

Page seventy sevenSan Gregorio, 24 November 1983

Page seventy eightRome, 20 April 1982

Page seventy nineBagno Vignoni, 1979-1982

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Portfolio of 25 printsEdition of 12 + 3 A/P. Lambdas printed on 40x50 paperPrinted in Florence, Italy 2007. Portfolio box 42x52x7 cm.

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Mirror & PomegranateSergei Parajanov and Andrey Tarkovsky

Second edition of 750 copies in English

Published by Anya Stonelake/White Space Gallery London UK+44 (0) 7949 100 956anya@whitespacegallery.co.ukwww.whitespacegallery.co.uk

Photographs by Andrey Tarkovsky © Andrey A. Tarkovsky Text by Andrey A. Tarkovsky © Andrey A. Tarkovsky Poem by Arseniy Tarkovsky © Arseniy Tarkovsky EstateThe Tarkovsky Foundation, Florence, Italywww.brightbrightday.com Artworks and archives of Sergei Parajanov © Sergei Parajanov Museum Text by Henrietta Foster © Henrietta Foster Text by Zaven Sargsyan © Sergei Parajanov Museum

www.parajanovmuseum.am

Photographs by Yuri Mechitov ©Yuri Mechitov Photographs by Layla Alexander-Garrett ©Layla Alexander-Garrett

Translation from Russian by Alexander Kan

All rights reserved. All images and texts courtesy: Anya Stonelake, White Space Gallery, London UK

Book designed by Mike Stonelake: www.mikestonelake.com

Printed by UAB Standartu spaustuve

With special thanks to: Yulia Nagy, ArtMost.co.ukHenrietta Foster Zaven Sargsyan Yuri Mechitov Layla Alexander-Garrett

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publishers