Madonna's fairytale "Jacob and The Seven Thieves," released in the United States earlier this summer, has now found its way to Russia. But judging from critical reviews, sales statistics, and buyer feedback, local readerships seem far more impressed with the illustrations, drawn by the U.S.-based Russian artist Gennady Spirin, than with the world-famous pop diva's latest literary endeavor.
Spirin emigrated to the United States back in 1991, leaving his friends and acquaintances wondering how a pious ascetic like him would be able to fit in. He favors a secluded lifestyle and draws inspiration from two medieval painters-Russia's Andrei Rublev and Flanders' Peter Breugel the Elder.
Contrasting Spirin's mindset against the typical American mentality brings to mind the images of an anvil and a mobile telephone and of a handsaw and a PC display. Here is one characteristic episode of twenty years ago: I bump into Spirin in the Bibliophile Almanac's editorial office and compliment him on his illustrations to a children's book by Natalia Romanova, "Whose Tree Stump Is It?" (1983). Spirin waves my compliment off, muttering that "he has spoiled everything as there's been too much rush."
Such self-criticism would seem absolutely inappropriate in the States. But, amazingly enough, the foreign environment has not changed Spirin's character a bit. It hasn't taken local publishers long to come to appreciate the Russian immigrant's craftsmanship and originality of artistic thinking. He still doesn't speak a word of English. But he does enjoy living in America. "Here, they let me be," he explains. The States is like a dense medieval forest to him, and his house in Princeton resembles a hermitage.
When word about Madonna picking Spirin as the illustrator for her next book reached Russia one year ago, those of us who remembered him could sense that this choice would cost the American authoress dearly.
Today, the details of their duel are known to all. Madonna, nee Louisa Maria, has recently taken a keen interest in the Kabbalah religion. She was named Louisa after her mother. At the age of seven, she lost her Mom to cancer, and has ever since been suffering from the implications of that traumatic experience. Kabbalah teaches that to be able to overcome personal psychological traumas, one should assume a new name and turn over a new leaf. So, in an effort to escape her mother's bleak fate, Madonna has now renamed herself Esther and taken up fiction writing.
Madonna/Esther has three fairytales to her credit already. Her most recent story, about Jacob and seven little thieves, is set in an 18th-century town somewhere in Eastern Europe. She selects artists to illustrate her books all by herself. This time around, she has decided on Spirin. Perfect choice, one has to admit, as no other contemporary illustrator appears as good at depicting the period as he does.
On receiving the offer, Spirin asked for a Russian-language translation so that he would be able to read the story first. He eventually accepted the commission, but his salary expectations caused a real stir among Madonna's lawyers-her other artists had received only a quarter of the price set by the Russian. But Spirin remained adamant: If you want another price, ask another artist.
Madonna was the first person on her team to feel the stubborn nature of the Russian bear, and she decided to sign a contract on Spirin's terms, putting off the settlement of all controversial matters until later. The artist then set down to work. But she would make sure she checked every single one of his drawings, passing critical comments and instructions on to him through one of her lawyers.
Madonna was unaware at that point that Spirin never (!) makes preparatory studies for his works.
The anvil is too hard to bend, as is known. And so the unbending Spirin rebelled. He wrote a verbose letter to Madonna and had it translated into English. In it, he explained his vision for the book's images, ridiculed her own proposals, and indicated that she was through with her part of the job now and had better get some rest instead of trying to poke into other people's work. On top of that, he advised her to rename her crooked protagonists, many of whom had Russian names.
The letter left Madonna's lawyers dazed-no one had dared dispute with their celebrated client in the past twenty years. But to her credit, Madonna let Spirin get his way. Moreover, she asked him to make sixteen drawings instead of the eight commissioned initially. No problem, the master replied, but I would charge a double for that. She agreed.
Madonna was delighted with the finished illustrations, and she bought the originals of thirty-six drawings. A flattered Spirin offered the pop diva a gift-a portrait of her as a young beauty galloping on a black palfrey, against the backdrop of a medieval town. The model approved. Spirin's portrait of Madonna has now been released as a poster in millions of copies. It is being used in promoting "Jacob and The Seven Thieves," to be published in 38 languages in 110 countries across the world.
But Spirin, predictably, is dissatisfied with his latest work. They [the publishers] spoiled the cover illustration, which "came across as gangster" to them, he lamented at a recent press conference. And in reply to a reporter's question as to how he felt about Madonna's performing talents, he said he wasn't one of her fans and that he preferred classical music to pop.
