Autumn in Pies Town.
Evening on the Seine.
Bell Ringers.
Tanya.
Two paintings both called Yauzsky Boulevard; I suppose you order spring or winter depending on the color scheme in your dining room. Which is not a crack on Kosnichev; as I said, he has to make a living. It's the world of art that is crazy, crowded by so many people trying to be artists that only the most flamboyant can thrive, and quiet talents like Kosnichev are shoved aside. I think he has ten times more talent than Damien Hirst. (At art, anyway; Hirst obviously has terrific talents in the fields of marketing, promotion, attention seeking, making people's heads spin, and annoying aging philistines like me.)
For the religious market, Sunday.
Spring in Moscow.
On the Banks of the Volga.
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