The end of the summer. The harvest has begun. For the village peasants, this is the time when all the household chores are forgotten and the whole family goes to the field. So the artist has just written that very time. Ahead as it should be the eldest in the family. He starts mowing, he and his wife and children start the field.
Work in progress, hard work. It is necessary to have time to weather, but it certainly will, because there are clouds and clouds gather in the sky, and the birds fly quite low. There certainly can not be mistaken, fly low – to the rain. And it’s more convenient to work with the whole family, you won’t miss anything – everything will be gathered to the last ear. Adults will not see, so little will see, all at once in a bundle and folded.
The artist Myasoedov often used just such plans, peasant household. And this is not a desire to be closer to the people. This is exactly when you want to tell something clear.
And after all, everything is clear: the family is on haymaking, in a hurry to gather quickly what was sown and carefully grown. So far, really bad weather has not played out. Rain will spoil the hay, spoil the grain and how much in vain all the work will be. And there, Father God, will not keep himself waiting, if that is what goes wrong.
And how exactly the artist described everything. As I caught something elusive in the confident movements of mowers, and most importantly, if they noticed that the work was almost finished. And this means that they still managed to harvest the crop before the weather. And this means that in the winter there will be what to put on the table.
In general, it was thanks to such artists as Myasoedov that the metropolitan public suddenly found out that there was also life outside the city. After all, there have been those who have lived in the city all their life and have not even pulled their nose out of the city. For such, this canvas was wild and unusual, and most importantly, even offensive. And in fact there were indignations. Say, what more there was nobody to draw?
Myasoyedov just shrugged and smiled. Apparently, no one. But for him, just those whom he portrayed, and were people, and not these metropolitan “things”.
Have you noticed one more pitchfork lying aside, in the lower right corner of the canvas? Maybe this artist was shirking?!