Gallery Links
Photoshoots > Set 012

Special thanks to Candy_Lady for translating this interview.

Any philanthropist knows, that people do charity not to help others, but to help themselves. A girl from Nizhnii Novgorod, a supermodel, a wife of an English lord, a mother of three and a happy clubber builds playgrounds in Russia’s province, manages to overcome all bureaucratic difficulties and fight the local officials. Why does she need this? What is Natalia Vodianova afraid of? What does she save herself from?

A silver “Mercedes” is rolling down the narrow road, meandering in the fields of West Sussex. It is raining outside. It’s evening. A fox crosses the road right in front of the car’s lights. Me and a supermodel Natalia Vodianova, a 28-year-old wife of a British baron, are sitting on the back seat of the car. It’s a long road to London. All the lightening inside the car is her cell phone in my hand. And I read in it in English:
“I wanted to ask them to forgive me for not being able to turn back time and to prevent the tragedy, that happened to them…”
Natalia is wearing an evening dress and a black mantle that dissolves her in the dark. More deeper in the dark, under the seat, her stilletos sparkle – a thin metallic heels of her shoes. Rare lanterns light up only her face – a face of a scared child – and light hair. And her thin hands in red gloves above the elbows. She is turning a ring on her left pinky, put on the glove.
Not to start crying she starts a conversation with the driver about everyday stuff. For example, about the central heating:
“Can you imagine, all the heat comes up and it gets so hot in the bedrooms, that I even got a headache while I was putting the kids into beds.”
“Yes, madam, I have the same problem in my house” – says the driver calming, he feels that madam is going to cry if he won’t talk with her about the heating or about her daughter’s school play, but he doesn’t understand why she is so upset. – “How did the girl’s play went, madam?”
“Oh, it was wonderful, she played an angel. Can you imagine – they hardly managed to pursued her to play an angel. She doesn’t want to be an angel. She wants to be a girl. Or at least a rabbit or a kitten.”
The driver doesn’t know Russian. He has no idea that it is me why Natalia is about to cry. It is my who asked her to tell, how she opened one of her playgrounds in Beslan. She started to tell, but she couldn’t go on.
She took the cell phone and gave it to me to read a message, a long letter to her friend, a detailed report about two days she spent in Ossetia. While Natalia is talking to the driver I am reading in her cell that the new cemetery in Beslan, where the killed children are buried, is called “Angelovo”. God, everything is under your will! What king of a normal girl would like to play an angel in the Christmas school play after this!
“Oh, Valera, have you seen a ring?” – Natalia turns the lights on in the car and starts to search on the seat and under the seat.
“What ring, Natalia?”
“I had a ring on my finger. I played with it and it got lost somewhere. Maybe in fell in my purse when I was taking out the pills from headache? Oh yes, here it is!”
I am not taking any part in this search for the ring. I still have no idea, that I am there for her as a armor-bearer. It still seems to me that we are just going together, as long as we have the same destination, and before that I was just a guest at her house and we were just talking. A silly Sancho Panza.

Oasis in hell
A few hours before this, I get out of the rented car (my shoes are wet, the driver got lost and I had to get out of the car and ask for a direction) and enter the wooden and a bit rickety door of Natalia’s house – in press, constantly talking about her happiness mixing it with rumors about her upcoming divorce, they call this house a manor. It is called “Mill house”, because it was rebuilt of the old mill. The wooden stairway leading to the living room was decorated with a knitted countryside-styled rug and ended up with a small gate that closed the stairway from children, so they don’t fall down. Natalia’s youngest children – Neva and Victor – were riding that very gate with a happy yell and risking to pinch their fingers.
Natalia wore a faded stretched skirt, washed-out shapeless sweater and her hair was messy. She was trying to cook a dinner for children. A whole army of women, as if they were picked from a home catalog, was helping her: a nicest buxom Russian-speaking nanny, a decisive-looking strict female friend in square glasses, first assistant with a laptop, second assistant with a car keys from Vauxhall (Opel in Britain) – she was about to go to do some orders, but couldn’t leave for some reason.
Angel Neva was running around a huge kitchen table and kept throwing a pink teddy pig to me every circle she made. Angel Viktor crawled onto his mother’s laps, took my milk and started to pour it from milk jug into a cup and then from a cup into the milk jug, while little boy is allergic to milk. Neva took all the cups away from Viktor and he started crying disconsolately. And then the eldest Natalia’s son Lucas came from school and brought a candle he made himself, which Viktor instantly broke and started crying again, but not because of the candle, but because he was hungry – the turkey was cooking too long…
Natalia was amazingly patient with her kids. She told crying Viktor: “My sweet little darling”, she said to naughty Neva: “Give him at least one cup”, she mended the broken candle so good, that Lucas, who went out to wash his hands, didn’t even notice anything. Natalia told me, that that house where she lives in Sussex – is an absolutely wonderful place, that there is a river outside, that about every three months her friends come over and they play intellectual games. That you can run to prepare for the Paris charity marathon (“Oh! I am training for 6 months already! I can easily run 12 miles, and I could run 24, but my knees hurt because of running and I don’t like running at all in general.”)
Or you can ride a bicycle, and once right before a big contract she was riding around and fell over the rudder, scratched her face on the rocks and lost the contract.
“And those people, you know, they didn’t even send me flowers, knowing what happened to me. That is so weird. I think you should respect a person, if you hire him for such a big money” – she shrugged her shoulders and it looked as if she believes that for advertising campaigns they hire a person, but not just his face and skin – if you are talking about cosmetics.
Viktor was raving. Neva was teasing a car in the corner. About cats: one of them belonged to Neva, the other one belonged to Viktor, an Lucas’ was ran over by a car the second he went outside. Lucas kept trying to tell me this story properly and in English, but that only made the atmosphere more noisy. And Natalia was showing the wonders of patience: “Just a minute, my baby… Don’t torture the cat, please, honey… Be patience, my love, you’ll have a chance to tell your story a bit later…’
It might have been not polite, but I asked her, how she manages to be so patient and stays calm in all that blond angel-looking gang?
“And how else?” – Natalia was surprised. – “How can I be patient about the rest of the world if I can’t even be patient with my own kids?”
And that moment I got it – the main occupation for a woman named Natalia (a celebrity, a beautiful rich woman) – is to be patient. That is why a model sits for hours and patiently waits for a stylist to make her hair and for photographer’s assistant to arrange the lightening.
In return she provides herself safety – at least in her own house.
She sincerely thinks that this house full of noisy kids is her safety island in the middle of a cruel world you can never escape. An oasis in hell, if you please.
The moment you stick your nose outside (like Lucas’ cat), you’ll know that is true. You can build a career, you can marry a baron, you can move to New York and by a spectacular penthouse on Manhattan with your young husband, but one day you’ll come up to the window with a beautiful view and see how Mohammed Atta is crushing into the left tower of the World Trade Centre on a high-jacked plane. Natalia saw it. And you can enter the suit of an expansive hotel in Moscow, fall on the bed, switch on the TV and see how some terrorist called Magas or Colonel is high-jacking the Beslan school.
Because around us is hell. We are in hell. All we can do is make some small asylums in this hell with some kind of wellbeing – like her house, that smells a baked turkey (“Oh! It’s ready now! We are about to eat, my darling!”), like playgrounds for children that she builds in small Russian towns, like fashion shows and finally like good parties.
Along with the turkey she puts a DVD-player on the table. Natalia turns on the cartoon about “Cheburashka” and instantly children stop fighting and screaming and are glued to the screen, because there is an oasis of happiness for them. And Natalia goes upstairs to change into the evening dress, high heels and red gloves over her elbows, because you can only leave your fortress well-prepared – with weapon and armor.

Feelings of an armor-bearer
Already wearing all her armor Natalia went to kiss her children goodnight. Then we got in the car and went to London, where on one of the many parties the supermodel Vodianova was supposed to meet the super football player Arshavin so she could invite him to her charity Love Ball – in other words make it happen that Arshavin would like to give some money.
And so we are driving in the dark. The fox crossed the road. I’ve read about the Beslan. Natalia’s changed her mind about crying.
Natalia asks me what do I think about the idea of building playgrounds in Russia. I really like this idea: it’s very rare example in charity when something is done for everyone, and you don’t have a question why do you help these kids, but not the other – why the ones with the heart disease, but not the ones with viscidosis.
I ask Natalia in return: how did she come up with the idea of building playgrounds?
“Play is very important. Childhood is a hard time. A child that had some sort of trauma gets completely lost when he gent on our playground, he runs around with happy eyes and climbs the stairs…”
“As if all kids have had some kind of trauma…”
Natalia’s silent.
“Are you saying that ALL kids have had some mental trauma in the past?”
Natalia’s silent.
“Are you saying that YOU have had a mental trauma in childhood?” – I finally get it.
Natalia nods. A long pause. It is so quite in the “Mercedes” that you can hear how a conditioner works. It’s raining outside. A fox on the road is eating a partridge that has been ran over by a car before us. That is why they are running here, I guess. Rare street lanterns light up Natalia’s face and hair. She has such a face that you just want to turn into an old man and just to caress her without any romantic note and say “Wait a bit, little girl, we are almost in London, and there will be lights, lights… A Christmas eve chaos… A bright crowd on the streets”. Expensive cars arrive to the place where the party is held, and there is no place to park even if you are a celebrity. We’ll have to walk about 50m from the car to the entrance under the rain. And you are wearing an evening dress and high heels. I’ll offer you my hand and lead you to the entrance. And the people will stare and wonder: the great Natalia Vodianova with some old punk who looks like Shrek and has never been seen in the media before. And you will whisper to me, that if photographers appear would I be so kind to take your mantle – as if you’re instructing me in case some shooters appear.
Because this is a battle for you. And I am your armor-bearer tonight. And all these heels and dresses and rings and mantles – are weapon. And do you know what an armor-bearer feels when he walks you – Natalia Vodianova, a supermodel in her full battle dress – down the London street? It feels as if you carry a small bird in your hand.

Flags of the “United Russia”
Natalia says that she used to go to parties to relax and never left before the dawn. I guess she got quite a strong impression of me and she feels uncomfortable to tell me how great it can be to party with your friends until the early morning. Natalia says that now she often leaves the party before the midnight, and goes there only to find allies who would help her build playgrounds in Russia. It seems like these playgrounds are the only thing she constantly has on her mind. Playgrounds are the reason she does fashion shows. They are the reason she runs a charity marathon in Paris, and she also brought her friend Lucy Yeomans, chief editor of Harper’s Bazaar, and her layer, and tries to persuade her director to run with them… Because she needs to gather money to arrange her Ball – and on the Ball she’ll raise more money and they all will go to build playgrounds.
She really needs a lot of money, because these playgrounds differ from those which are usually built in Russian towns, but they are like those in British parks. Under the swings and carousels there is not sand or asphalt, but a special rubber cover. Ladders, slides and wall bars are built according to “ergonomic parameters of the child” so that the kid could climb holding both of the handrails, not one. Under the slides there is a thick layer of underlay from the bark, so that the kid won’t hurt himself if he falls down. The sandbox is filled with oceanic or river sand, that is changed every year. And there are ships with decks and holds, stranded plastic tube-slides, rope nets that deserve a huge spider. Or there can be special equipment for rollers and skateborders – to occupy teenagers. And always – special attractions for disabled children. And what is also very important – that 3000 square meters play park is fenced, has a security, closes for the night, and adults can’t enter it without children. A playground like this costs about $300 000. Natalia’s foundation called “Naked Heart” buys the equipment for playgrounds and signs a contract of tenancy with the local administration of province towns in Russia. According to this contract the town is given the playground in return of the guaranty that they will wash it, mend it, guard it and let all children enter it for free. But that is not that simple.
In Natalia’s hometown Nizhnii Novgorod nobody was guarding the playground, and in the night vandals broke ladders and carousels, and respectable citizens cut pieces of rubber coverage for their home rugs. The playground was getting worse and worse, but that didn’t stop the leaseholder from taking money for the entrance, turning this oasis of happiness into a source of pain, because how would a child feel looking at all attractions through the fence and hearing from his mother: “No, come on, let’s go. It’s expensive.”
About $200 000 more Natalia’s foundation had to pay to repair this playground; a year was spent to make the leaseholder behave properly according to the law.
But that very moment the director of a park in Penza announced in press that the playground of “Naked Heart” will be for pay, and that contradicted one of the points of the contract he had signed himself before. But the citizens of Penza knew nothing about this contract and simply thought Natalia was another rich bitch from abroad who came there to tease their children and make money on them.
And in Pertozavodsk the local TV announced that the mayor of the town had built a beautiful playground for children and that this playground is one of his project’s plans of construction objects for children. And in the very end of this reportage Natalia’s face appeared for a second and they said that a famous model Natalia Vodianova came for the opening of playground. Natalia didn’t watch the TV and had no chance to get upset.
And in Ivanovo playground’s opening was set at 10 in the morning on Thursday. Natalia’s director told the administration that most of the children are in kindergartens or at school this time of the day, and their parents are at work, but the objected and told her that that time is suitable for the governor and the kids – well they’ll find them. They did find the kids from the local kindergartens. They were shy at first, but when they felt more comfortable the governor arrived. And his security pushed kids back to the fence, so they don’t hurt the important man. And the governor stepped on the tribune, gave a speech about the priceless contribution of the “United Russia” party and presented the town washing machine Karcher. In the meantime flags of the “United Russia” floated over the fairytale ship that Natalia had bought.
In many towns the local officials understood that there is not much you can steal from a playground. Then, according to the law, they used to announce an auction for the cheapest constructor and picked the worst one who would put the rubber coverage with lumps, wouldn’t spend the required amount of money on peat beds and would steal the sand from the sandbox.
However, not everyone was like that. Mayor of a tiny town Kingisepp was a nice young man who really wanted to have a wonderful playground for all kids in his town. Both land preparing and playground exploitation were perfect in Kingisepp. And in Biisk mayor was also a good man. They prepared the land very well. Of course the opening couldn’t escape the presence of the “United Russia”, but after that mayor took Natalia to the mountains, made her plov (that is a very tasty special traditional food of Asian region, made with rice, meat and spices – note by me) in a huge pot, hugged her, gave her vodka and played her on guitar “Milaya moya, solnishko lesnoe” (that is a beautiful song, to translate the name it would be “My darling, you’re my sun in the forest”. It is very touching and very Russian, you know – note by me).
And in Beslan the whole town greeted Natalia. They arranged a special concert for her. They took her to the cemetery. They took her to the attacked school, where one kind man that accompanied her showed her one of the portraits of killed children and said: “That is my child”. And the endless tables were full of food. And Ossetia’s cakes were put together on plates by three – in a sign of happiness, not by two as they do is a sign of mourning.
And Natalia doesn’t know what is harder: when people greet you with distrust, searching for a trick in your gift, or when people greet you as if you are Blessed Virgin only because you have built several play parks and sports equipment, and fall on their knees and kiss your hands. Natalia says: “What kind of life these people have if when they see me the cry because of happiness and kiss my hands.”
Most of all Natalia loves when her foundation receives e-mails from all over the country like this: “You’ve built a playground in our town, thank you, but the swigs have been broken for a month already and nobody is repairing them. Parents have gathered 400 signatures under the petition of the proper exploitation of the playground, but we need you legal help…”
In cases like that Natalia gets that old feeling from her childhood – together! together! Create and save oasis of happiness for a child in the middle of this cruel world.

Source: LiveJournal.