Andrei Voznesensky | |
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Andrei Voznesensky in 2008
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Born | Andrei Andreyevich Voznesensky May 12, 1933 Moscow, Soviet Union |
Died | June 1, 2010 Moscow, Russia |
(aged 77)
Occupation | Poet and writer |
Period | 1958–2010 |
Notable works | The Triangular Pear, Antiworlds, Stained-glass Master, Violoncello Oakleaf, Videoms and Fortune Telling by the Book |
Andrei Andreyevich Voznesensky (Russian: Андре́й Андре́евич Вознесе́нский, May 12, 1933 – June 1, 2010) was a Soviet and Russian poet and writer who had been referred to by Robert Lowell as "one of the greatest living poets in any language." He was one of the "Children of the '60s," a new wave of iconic Russian intellectuals led by the Khrushchev Thaw.
Voznesensky was considered "one of the most daring writers of the Soviet era" but his style often led to regular criticism from his contemporaries and he was once threatened with expulsion by Nikita Khrushchev. He performed poetry readings in front of sold-out stadiums around the world, and was much admired for his skilled delivery. Some of his poetry was translated into English by W. H. Auden. Voznesenky's long-serving mentor and muse was Boris Pasternak, the Nobel Laureate and the author of Doctor Zhivago.
Before his death, he was both critically and popularly proclaimed "a living classic", and "an icon of Soviet intellectuals".
Voznesensky was born in Moscow. His father was a professor of engineering, while his mother influenced him early on by reading poetry in his presence. His father worked during World War II. In his early life, Voznesensky was fascinated with painting and architecture, in 1957 graduating from the Moscow Architectural Institute with a degree in engineering. His enthusiasm for poetry, though, proved to be stronger. While still a teenager, he sent his poems to Boris Pasternak; the friendship between the two had a strong influence on the young poet, and he later described this relationship in "I Am Fourteen" – "From that day on, my life took on a magical meaning and a sense of destiny; his new poetry, telephone conversations, Sunday chats at his house from 2 to 4, walks—years of happiness and childish adoration". Pasternak, who died in 1960, paid him the ultimate tribute – "Your entrance into literature was swift and turbulent. I am glad I've lived to see it".