I first met Nikolai Afanasievich Ponomarev in the spring of 1990, introduced by my dear friend—and celebrated sculptor—Yuri Chernov. Over strong tea in Nikolai’s Moscow studio, we spoke of everything from his student days at the Rostov Art School (1934–39) to his decade under Alexander Osmyorkin and Pavel Pavlinov at the Moscow Art Institute (1940–50). Yet it was when he began to describe his passion project—a triptych devoted to the “relic pines” of the Russian North—that I felt a thrill of recognition.
He led me to a corner where three slender canvases leaned against a sunlit wall. Each panel bore his signature blend of expressive colour rhythms and crystalline composition, the gnarled pines rendered with a poetic grace that seemed to whisper of centuries past. In that moment, I knew I couldn’t leave without all of them. Nikolai smiled and said, “Choose the one that speaks to you,” and I picked the center panel—its crown and windbent trunk capturing the quiet strength of nature, but later bought a triptych.
That same afternoon, I carried my chosen “Relic Pine” panel home, sending it months later to be framed and hung above my mantel. For years, its subtle greens and silvery grays have greeted me each morning, a daily reminder of that conversation with a master who, despite honors like People’s Artist of the RSFSR (1968) and his later role as President of the USSR Academy of Arts (1992–97), remained devoted to painting’s simple truths.
Now, as my walls welcome new stories, it feels right to share this one fragment of Nikolai Ponomarev’s legacy. I hope the next keeper of this panel will find in its weathered bark and soaring branches the same sense of wonder—and the same warmth—that first drew me in all those years ago.
(Photographed in April 2025)