Elizabeth Listova: "Always I go its own way"
Elizabeth Sheets 38 years. Journalist, theater critic, she worked in the programs "picture tube" (TV-6), "Recently", "Today", "Results" (NTV), led the news on TV-6 and TVS. Today it is - a special correspondent of "Russia" channel. Author of the documentary series "Soviet Empire" in which made nine films (among them: "The hotel" Moscow "," Khrushchev "," Bratsk hydroelectric plant, "" High-rise buildings "," Metro "), the festival winner" ArtDokFest "and informal club TELEPRESS (both in 2009). Married to journalist Yevgeny Revenko, mother of five daughters Faith.
Who am I?
"I - this is the man with whom I never get bored. It's not about narcissism - a split personality. We've got two of these, leading a constant internal dialogue, the most daring of all, I allow myself. Within itself all possible - any argument suitable. And life rushes cab. Freedom applies to most families and friends, which is not enough. How do they from me suffer ... Communication as to the outside, a stranger world fraught with a lot of important for me to conventions not be intrusive and does not neglect the attention, not to offend, not to humiliate, not to humiliate itself ... I'm not a good speaker, unfit stands - in short, pale character. The conflict can not explicitly take a position on the one hand, because I understand the logic of the other. Selection - the most unpleasant thing I have to do in life. Always go their separate ways. Even if with all - that, for whatever their reasons. I always know what I want, but do not like to formulate it - not to become uniquely and boring. " "I love my dreams" "That's where freedom is, that's where I have to reserve and safe exit of the iron curtain of everyday life! If the invented machine for recording and playing again, I would use it. How not to write a magnificent parade of grand pianos, which travel down the Tverskaya kilometers to the Red Square and smile the entire width of its white keyboard! One, red, remember, was a white sail ... I may be too forward their dreams and those of their pet so that they lose all conscience. And it turns into a deep and an elaborated nightmares with a long aftertaste day. Dreams - it's the worst thing I've ever seen in my life. But if the dream could cancel - what some tablets or injections - I would never have traded my illusory freedom of the night on the illusory night's rest. "
"I was shocked word Nabokov"
"A book of Nabokov - think it was even offset duplicator book of his stories - he brought inadvertently into the house, as the plague, my godfather. I then had to read for school program Chernyshevsky Nabokov ... I swallowed, and had even breathed for the entire night. And in the morning, honestly coming to school at eight in the morning, I went to wander around Moscow. And do not find a place for himself, thinking about the power of words, wondering how it can be - the word and the word is to create ... Study Chernyshevsky crowned essay in which I did not choose words. My wonderful teacher of literature generated in the mother school. Details of their conversation are unknown to me. I think both were unhappy with the frequent repetition of the word "nonsense" and "nonsense". Later, I learned to be more careful. "
"It hurts when past goes"
"My idea of a monumental (documentary series" Soviet empire "-... Ed) has grown from a completely personal pain. Catcher native lanes disappearing as The Cherry Orchard, under the pressure of new LOPAKHIN - the killing of childhood, from which only the house remained. My mom walked the same streets as me and my daughter will be gone. I did not show her his yards, house with caryatids, like my mother, instead, is now Building. And I do not tell her where I spent my childhood - this place is no more. And when all the immutable become unsteady, I had the idea to make a movie with concrete and fixed characters. To know what they keep on and on whose word of honor. "
"Krymov taught rule is"
"As it was difficult to learn to control yourself, educate your emotions and thoughts when they become my professional tool, like a hammer or other microscope. A prime example gave me Natalia A. Krymov theater critic, thinker of the theater, the master of my course in GITIS. Here the culture of thought and culture of feelings! How exactly was its brevity, depth - in its simplicity. In me it always sounds smooth voice. Her words frustrated occasional heavy drops - no matter whether with the pen, whether with language - and fell loudly. I now feel: these are the drops that sharpening stone. "
"The holiday, which is always with me"
"House was made given the inspiration, no residue and is considered the main occupation. Until the last days did not leave the tool grandfather (Soviet composer Konstantin sheets - Ed...), Although after the famous "Song of the cart," could no longer compose anything. Mom, theater critic, was lost in the theater from morning till night. Their work was his life. This vicious practice and I inherited. My job - is "a holiday that is always with me." You would think that if you do a report on the news or historical, you just have to follow a chronological outline. This is not so, we should all time to do something to compare, think and come up with ... It never for a moment interrupted by thinking over the matter, and have my being. "
"This man can not die ever,"
"I knew it for sure at once. From the moment when she first hunch about human life crawled the final night numbness in my cot. I-word is "death" is not yet known, has designed some gnarled "umerst". But most afraid for my mother. Mom seemed to me fragile, and I was absolutely sure in this semidesyatipyatiletnem handsome. He did not bring up, he just walked with me. He did not read me any stories or notations. He just was. And I often counted the night: when I'm 16, he will be 87 when I was 24 - he was 95 ... I 33rd 104, I 54 - 125 he ... I - him, me - to him ... And in the end last I fell asleep, knowing that everything will be fine once I have it. He died when I was eleven. There was a long pause interior, some silent soul. When at last something stirred, revealed a strange change, I no longer love compote! Especially from dried fruits, which we devoured pots and race. For the rest, I was not mistaken: all really good, and he still walks with me - in the woods near our house - sometimes at my happiest dream. Center and the joy of my universe, the point from where comes from and where will certainly return my attitude towards life and its turns, the explanation of all my actions. My safe-conduct, my grandfather. "