Northwest Chess. 2011 haziran sayısı, 761. sayı.
Northwest Chess. 2011 haziran - ekim sayıları çevrimiçi olarak yayınlandı. Elleçlemeye başladım.
29 Aralık 2011 Perşembe
1276. SY. Northwest Chess
Northwest Chess. 2011 haziran - ekim sayıları çevrimiçi olarak yayınlandı. Elleçlemeye başladım.
1275. SY. Northwest Chess
Northwest Chess. 1966 haziran sayısı, 223. sayı
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Washington Chess Letter. 1962-1964 arasındaki 32 sayı daha taranarak WCL kolleksiyonuna katıldı. Bu sayıların elleçlenmesine başladım.
1272. Vitaly Tseshkovsky
Tseshkovsky dies at 67
ChessVibes
Sad news on Christmas Eve: two times Soviet Champion Vitaly Tseshkovsky passed away on December 24th in Krasnodar, Russia. The well-known Russian grandmaster died in harness: participating in the Krai Cup, Tseshkovsky became ill during the first round, lost consciousness and died. This was reported today by the Russian Chess Federation.
Tseshkovsky was born September 25, 1944 in Omsk into a Polish family (his noble ancestors lived in Volhynia). He was awarded the International Master title in 1973 and became an International Grandmaster in 1975.
His best tournament victories include first at Leipzig 1975, Dubna 1976, Yerevan 1980, Banja Luka 1981, Sochi 1981 and Minsk 1982. He was co-winner of the 1978 Soviet Championship (with Mikhail Tal) and winner of the 1986 Championship.
He has beaten several world champions: Vasily Smyslov at the Moscow Spartakiad 1974, Tal at Sochi 1970, and a young Garry Kasparov at the 1978 Soviet Championship. Tseshkovsky himself almost qualified for the World Championship candidates matches when he finished fourth in the 1976 Manila Interzonal, one place lower than was needed to progress to the next stage.
At the 27th Chess Olympiad in 1986, he scored 2.5/5 as the second reserve board to help the USSR team win the gold medal.
His 6/9 result in St Petersburg, 2004 qualified him to play in the Russian Championship final later in the year, alongside Russia's seven top players and five other qualifiers. In 2010, he tied for 2nd-4th with Algimantas Butnorius and Nikolai Pushkov in the European Seniors’ Rapid Championship.
Vitaly Tseshkovsky, 1944-2011
Dennis Monokroussos, Monday, December 26, 2011 at 6:08PM
Russian grandmaster Vitaly Tseshkovsky died this past Saturday, the day before Christmas, at the age of 67. He went out with his spurs on, while playing in the opening round of a chess tournament in Krasnodar.
I suspect that many if not most of my readers have never heard of him before (at least not unless they've already seen mention of his passing somewhere else), and even the few who have heard of him know very little about the man. While I've known of him for at least three decades, from whenever it was in my youth that I picked up the old R.H.M Press book on the 1974 USSR Championship, his performance in that event wasn't very good (7/15, tying for 10th-11th of 16) and he rarely played outside the Soviet Union during his salad days. For all I know, he might be a larger than life figure to Russian players and those from the former Soviet Union, but to most westerners who have heard of him he was probably "just" another random GM.
The last couple of days I've spent some time looking him up though, and he deserves more renown as a chess player than he has received. As those of us who can remember the Soviet Championships can attest, they were often super-tournaments in their own right. All the Soviet world champions from Mikhail Botvinnik through Garry Kasparov participated on a fairly regular basis, as did such figures as Paul Keres, David Bronstein, Efim Geller, Lev Polugaevsky, Leonid Stein, Alexander Beliavsky, Viktor Korchnoi and many other players in the world's absolute elite. Qualifying for such a tournament was an accomplishment, while winning a Soviet championship marked someone as an exceptionally able player.
Vitaly Tseshkovsky won it twice. In addition to those titles, gained in 1978 (with Tal, ahead of Polugaevsky, Beliavsky, Geller, Kasparov and others) and 1986 (ahead of a more contemporary crew including Evgeny Bareev, Leonid Yudasin, Mikhail Gurevich, Sergei Dolmatov, Alexander Khalifman, Beliavsky and others).
In addition, he was nearly a Candidate, coming in fourth in the 1976 Interzonal in Manila. Three players qualified for the next stage, but Tseshkovsky finished half a point behind Polugaevsky and Vlastimil Hort (and a point behind winner Henrique Mecking). Nevertheless, he showed his class by coming ahead of Boris Spassky, Ljubomir Ljubojevic, Zoltan Ribli and many other very strong players.
The man clearly has a resume. So why was he a relative unknown? For one thing, he doesn't seem to have done anything terribly flamboyant, so there aren't any amusing stories about him - at least none that seem to have escaped his homeland. As noted earlier, he rarely played outside the USSR in his heyday, so he didn't get the chance to make an impression on the Western press. Perhaps the biggest reason for his anonymity is that his results were extremely volatile. I mentioned that he won the Soviet Championship in 1978 and 1986, but guess who tied for dead last in 1979 and 1987? You guessed it: Tseshkovsky! (I told you they were strong tournaments!)
That volatility went in the opposite direction as well. For much of the 1990s his rating fluctuated between the high 2400s and low 2500s - not bad for a player who entered the decade in his mid-40s and left it in his mid-50s. But then in 2004-5 he had a series of good results that pushed his rating to 2600, achieved at the age of 61! In an amazing accomplishment, he qualified for the finals of the 2004 Russian Championship, where he participated against Kasparov, Alexander Grischuk, Alexey Dreev, Alexander Morozevich, Peter Svidler, Evgeny Bareev and three other strong, significantly younger players. That the 60-year-old Tseshkovsky, the lowest seed, came in last wasn't too surprising, but getting there was impressive. And so was his win over Morozevich, whom he defeated in a positional masterpiece. The man could play some great chess.
Tseshkovsky has passed, but apparently he did some work as a trainer too. Among the players who worked with him (to what degree and for how long, I do not know) were Boris Savchenko, Bartlomiej Macieja, and a player some of us have probably heard of - Vladimir Kramnik.
Rest in peace, Vitaly Tseshkovsky.
Russian grandmaster Vitaly Tseshkovsky died this past Saturday, the day before Christmas, at the age of 67. He went out with his spurs on, while playing in the opening round of a chess tournament in Krasnodar.
I suspect that many if not most of my readers have never heard of him before (at least not unless they've already seen mention of his passing somewhere else), and even the few who have heard of him know very little about the man. While I've known of him for at least three decades, from whenever it was in my youth that I picked up the old R.H.M Press book on the 1974 USSR Championship, his performance in that event wasn't very good (7/15, tying for 10th-11th of 16) and he rarely played outside the Soviet Union during his salad days. For all I know, he might be a larger than life figure to Russian players and those from the former Soviet Union, but to most westerners who have heard of him he was probably "just" another random GM.
The last couple of days I've spent some time looking him up though, and he deserves more renown as a chess player than he has received. As those of us who can remember the Soviet Championships can attest, they were often super-tournaments in their own right. All the Soviet world champions from Mikhail Botvinnik through Garry Kasparov participated on a fairly regular basis, as did such figures as Paul Keres, David Bronstein, Efim Geller, Lev Polugaevsky, Leonid Stein, Alexander Beliavsky, Viktor Korchnoi and many other players in the world's absolute elite. Qualifying for such a tournament was an accomplishment, while winning a Soviet championship marked someone as an exceptionally able player.
Vitaly Tseshkovsky won it twice. In addition to those titles, gained in 1978 (with Tal, ahead of Polugaevsky, Beliavsky, Geller, Kasparov and others) and 1986 (ahead of a more contemporary crew including Evgeny Bareev, Leonid Yudasin, Mikhail Gurevich, Sergei Dolmatov, Alexander Khalifman, Beliavsky and others).
In addition, he was nearly a Candidate, coming in fourth in the 1976 Interzonal in Manila. Three players qualified for the next stage, but Tseshkovsky finished half a point behind Polugaevsky and Vlastimil Hort (and a point behind winner Henrique Mecking). Nevertheless, he showed his class by coming ahead of Boris Spassky, Ljubomir Ljubojevic, Zoltan Ribli and many other very strong players.
The man clearly has a resume. So why was he a relative unknown? For one thing, he doesn't seem to have done anything terribly flamboyant, so there aren't any amusing stories about him - at least none that seem to have escaped his homeland. As noted earlier, he rarely played outside the USSR in his heyday, so he didn't get the chance to make an impression on the Western press. Perhaps the biggest reason for his anonymity is that his results were extremely volatile. I mentioned that he won the Soviet Championship in 1978 and 1986, but guess who tied for dead last in 1979 and 1987? You guessed it: Tseshkovsky! (I told you they were strong tournaments!)
That volatility went in the opposite direction as well. For much of the 1990s his rating fluctuated between the high 2400s and low 2500s - not bad for a player who entered the decade in his mid-40s and left it in his mid-50s. But then in 2004-5 he had a series of good results that pushed his rating to 2600, achieved at the age of 61! In an amazing accomplishment, he qualified for the finals of the 2004 Russian Championship, where he participated against Kasparov, Alexander Grischuk, Alexey Dreev, Alexander Morozevich, Peter Svidler, Evgeny Bareev and three other strong, significantly younger players. That the 60-year-old Tseshkovsky, the lowest seed, came in last wasn't too surprising, but getting there was impressive. And so was his win over Morozevich, whom he defeated in a positional masterpiece. The man could play some great chess.
Tseshkovsky has passed, but apparently he did some work as a trainer too. Among the players who worked with him (to what degree and for how long, I do not know) were Boris Savchenko, Bartlomiej Macieja, and a player some of us have probably heard of - Vladimir Kramnik.
Rest in peace, Vitaly Tseshkovsky.
Kramnik: Tseshkovsky “loved chess too much”
December 26, 2011 4:37 pm
Vitaly Tseshkovsky, who died on the 24th December, coached the young Vladimir Kramnik in the years when the future champion broke into the World Top-10. Kramnik has now shared his recollections of Tseshkovsky with the Russian Chess Federation website, noting that Tseshkovsky was a talent comparable to Jan Timman, but lacked the sporting and political qualities required to claim a place at the very top of world chess in that era.
The following is a full translation of Kramnik’s Russian text at the RCF website:
I’d heard, of course, that Vitaly Valeryevich’s health was no longer so great, but such things always come as a shock… After all, he was only 67, which isn’t such an advanced old age nowadays.
We hadn’t seen each other for a long time as our paths somehow never crossed – I’d play in some tournaments while he played in others; but we always had a good relationship. Of course, when I saw the sad news on the internet memories immediately flooded back…
We worked together very closely from 88-89 to 94. We were neighbours: I was living back then in Tuapse while Tseshkovsky was in Krasnodar. From time to time someone would work with me – one local master or another. At some point it became clear that I could develop into a very strong player, so they decided to find me a coach who had a very deep understanding of chess. Tseshkovsky automatically emerged as a candidate – in the Krasnodar Region there were no other chess players at his level.
Kramnik was born in Tuapse on the Black Sea coast, about 150 km from the regional centre of Krasnodar
The only problem was that Tuapse and Krasnodar weren’t located very close to each other, so it wasn’t that easy for us to meet often. Moreover, he was still playing regularly himself, and posting very decent results. So we spent more time together at tournaments, and sometimes at training camps. On more than one occasion we stayed in the same hotel room when he was helping me at junior competitions. Of course we talked and worked a lot on chess. Back then I was still very young, so we didn’t quite communicate as equals. He certainly didn’t treat me as a child – he shared his thoughts with me and told me a lot of interesting things – but there weren’t any disputes or long dialogues between us, as after all we were people from different generations. He was a very intelligent, scrupulous man and never applied pressure or imposed his opinion on me. He’d apologise five times before expressing his disagreement with something. He was an honest, decent man, and had no malice at all. He might not get on with someone very well, but I never heard malice in his voice. He had no desire to settle scores with anyone or take revenge and so on. It seems to me he never did anything bad to anyone.
Tseshkovsky was a very interesting, original and unconventional chess player. Above all, he really loved chess. He was one of those rare people who could analyse any position. I remember his favourite pose: half-lying on the bed, supporting his head in his hands; in front of him – a magnetic chess set from Riga, which he always took with him. At junior championships when I returned to the room I could find him, for example, analysing some game from the “64” magazine; let’s say, Rodriguez – Gutierrez from the Columbian Championship. If a position caught his interest he could analyse it for three or four hours. He moved the pieces, had a think, moved the pieces, and again had a think… That seemed a little strange to me and I once said: if you like analysing so much perhaps it would be better to take some position from your repertoire? But he was ready to study any idea that caught his interest. That, of course, is a rare quality, found only among people who genuinely love chess!
It seems to me that Vitaly Tseshkovsky didn’t achieve all he could because he loved chess too much: he had an enormous love of playing and analysing, while the practical result didn’t particularly bother him. Of course, he had to earn money and take care of his family, but essentially he simply loved playing chess. I’ve rarely met such enthusiasm for analysis! He could be drawn into some study or even a selfmate. He’d put it on the board and spend half a day solving it. I was amused by all that, and us kids would laugh at him when he’d enthusiastically tell us: “A difficult puzzle, but how interesting!” There’d be some irrational position on the board – a selfmate in 10 moves or some such madness! And he’d share his emotions: “I already have a sense of what the construction should be, but I just can’t grasp the correct path…” It was a unique spectacle, and there are less and less such people…
Whether Tseshkovsky was at the same level as the great or a little below them is something I won’t try to judge; in general, it’s very hard to judge the scale of anyone’s talent. But it’s obvious that his sporting qualities were zero. He “got by” on account of his love of chess and his talent. If only he could have added sporting qualities… When he was on fire he would rip everyone apart, and no-one understood what was happening on the board! He had an amazing style: he really loved complex positions, and would deliberately complicate, complicate and complicate play… Moreover, by complex positions I don’t mean simply that they were tactical; he loved it when a lot of pieces remained and when, as far as possible, the struggle was taking place across the whole board. He loved to provoke turmoil on the board, when it was difficult to grasp what on earth was going on. That was his element, in which he’d outplay very strong grandmasters, and at times outplay them as if they were mere children. Of course he also had weaker sides to his game, but overall his style was very original and unconventional; I don’t even know who you could compare Tseshkovsky to. He always approached a position without any clear criteria for evaluating it: this is better, this is worse. He “diluted” me in this sense: after all, I’d studied the books of Nimzowitsch and Tarrasch, and the criteria there are very strict – this is good, this is bad. Vitaly Valeryevich, of course, understood chess more deeply than I did at the time and he was able to demonstrate that chess is much more multifaceted and not so categorical; sometimes it’s hard to grasp in general whether a position’s better or not. He enriched me in that regard.
I remember either in 1990 or 91 that we were at a training camp in Novogorsk before the World Junior Championship. The camp lasted a long time, about a fortnight, and it was boring to study all the time. At some point we sat down at the board and I said, “Perhaps we can play a little blitz?” He said: “Come on, then!” I was about 15 or 16 years old at the time and I was already playing pretty well. Of course, he was a stronger chess player, but I was young and my mind worked very quickly. Like any young chess player I loved to play blitz, especially against such a great player. He also really enjoyed it. And so we wound up playing for three days in a row, only taking a break for food and sleep. We didn’t even take any walks!
At first we kept a score, then we stopped, but it was about even: over three days perhaps someone won with a maximum of +5, while we played more games than you could count! No-one was particularly bothered about the score as we were both so caught up in the game, but for the sake of interest from some point we started to divide our marathon into 10-game matches. Sometimes I’d win a match, sometimes he would, but the gap was always only 1-2 points, no more.
Vitaly Valeryevich undoubtedly had a serious influence on my development as a chess player. As a youngster it’s very important to spend time with a strong player. I wouldn’t say that we analysed a great deal, although that also took place, but if you’ve got the ability to learn then it’s very important to have contact with a major player who sees the game differently and simply understands chess better than you do. He didn’t prepare special topics for our work together, but we’d simply sit at the board and start to look at certain positions, more or less related to my repertoire, though at times with no relation whatsoever. Sometimes he’d simply say: “I played an interesting game. Let’s analyse it!” And we could spend a few hours investigating that game. Of course, such an analytical process really enriched me. Tseshkovsky shared his thoughts, ideas and conceptions, and that was very useful.
In about 94 our cooperation came to an end because at that point chess had started to change significantly. Computers had appeared, while Vitaly Valeryevich worked the same way he always had, and wasn’t quite able to keep up with the growing volume of information. He analysed at incredible depth, but very slowly. That’s perfectly natural, but I had the impression that I simply wouldn’t have the time to process the necessary volume of information; it was better to sacrifice a little depth but look at more. I started to try working with different, younger people, who knew how to handle computers. Vitaly Valeryevich and I had no personal problems, but in terms of cooperating our paths gradually began to diverge. He was a man from a different generation, and it was hard for him to adapt to start working with computers. He loved chess more as a game than a profession. I was already in the Top-10, and I had “to work my head off”, regardless of whether I liked positions or not. For example, a slightly worse endgame had to be brought to a clear draw. Vitaly Valeryevich, on the other hand, wasn’t mentally prepared for such work. He loved chess as creativity. I understand that perfectly and welcome it, but back then that was already insufficient in order to reach the top. Our paths diverged, although afterwards we would still sometimes see each other and talk. In any case, our cooperation was very useful for me.
Of course it’s sad that people are leaving us from the generation I was connected to in my childhood. Recently Igor Yulyevich Botvinnik passed away, and I was also very upset when I saw that news during the tournament in London. I didn’t expect it at all as he’d always been so optimistic and had never complained about anything… Frankly speaking, I didn’t even know that he was over sixty; it always seemed to me that he was quite young. Literally a year ago we met in Paris, where he’d come to visit with his family. We met, had a good time together, and everything was so cheerful…. When I was accepted into the Botvinnik School he’d handled all the technical details and was a very good-natured man. Such blows one after another, people passing away. It’s a great pity, as you lose a part of your past…
Igor Botvinnik, Mikhail Botvinnik's nephew, passed away at the age of 61 on 5 December, 2011 | photo: RCF website
There are very few people left who are as selflessly devoted to chess as Vitaly Valeryevich was. He was a very independent, proud man, who didn’t like any kind of pressure, and was absolutely incapable of any bootlicking – that was incompatible with his personality. That was probably why Tseshkovsky was very rarely allowed to play in overseas tournaments, as at the time you often needed to "grease palms", to smile at someone at the right moment, bring them a little present and so on. But he didn’t like any of that, so he rarely travelled. In that sense he was a man from a “lost generation”. I think if he’d gone abroad, like Korchnoi, he’d have become a major player, at Timman’s level – he’d have been a constant in the Top-10. Although it’s hard to imagine Tseshkovsky living abroad as he was so Russian, so connected to Russian culture. At home he soured a little: he had the talent, but no tournaments. He told me that at some point he lost interest in his chess career development. He realised that he wasn’t Karpov, he wasn’t so great that they’d give him all the tournaments, but on the other hand while he didn’t have the tournaments he had no chance of becoming great. Tseshkovsky said: “I’m not capable of behaving so that I beg for these tournaments”. In a certain sense he gave up and decided that he’d simply play chess for pleasure.
Of course, there are lots of funny stories about him. There was one he loved to tell himself. Tseshkovsky was offered the chance to move from Omsk to Krasnodar so that the region would have its own very strong chess player. They gave him a big flat in the centre of the town on Krasnaya Street and offered good financial conditions, which immediately made him an eligible bachelor. And then he had a very serious romance and he and his beloved were already thinking about marriage. But – things just wouldn’t go well with his potential mother-in-law. It seemed as though she also wanted her daughter to marry a famous chess player, but nevertheless she had a dislike of Tseshkovsky. Now I’ll try to reproduce how Vitaly Valeryevich would tell it:
“One fine day I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for a bus and smoking. At that moment my future mother-in-law passed by and after brief greetings she uttered the following phrase:
– So, Vitaly, it turns out you also smoke!
After that I couldn’t restrain myself and replied:
– I also drink and love chasing after women!
And with that the romance suddenly came to an end.”
Tseshkovsky was a very direct man, with a sense of his own dignity. He could tell the chess leadership things to their faces. He was highly respected, but other people who were, let’s say, more tractable, would be sent to tournaments. It’s a pity that he didn’t achieve all that he could have done in chess. And in general, he could have lived longer. It seems to me that nature had granted him colossal – genuinely Siberian – health.
In his case it’s very symbolic that he died at the chessboard. After all, he played to the end – simply because he loved to play. I don’t think it brought Tseshkovsky much money, and any straightforward coaching activity would have earned him no less.
Farewell, Vitaly Valeryevich! May you rest in peace.
December 26, 2011 4:37 pm
Vitaly Tseshkovsky, who died on the 24th December, coached the young Vladimir Kramnik in the years when the future champion broke into the World Top-10. Kramnik has now shared his recollections of Tseshkovsky with the Russian Chess Federation website, noting that Tseshkovsky was a talent comparable to Jan Timman, but lacked the sporting and political qualities required to claim a place at the very top of world chess in that era.
The following is a full translation of Kramnik’s Russian text at the RCF website:
I’d heard, of course, that Vitaly Valeryevich’s health was no longer so great, but such things always come as a shock… After all, he was only 67, which isn’t such an advanced old age nowadays.
We hadn’t seen each other for a long time as our paths somehow never crossed – I’d play in some tournaments while he played in others; but we always had a good relationship. Of course, when I saw the sad news on the internet memories immediately flooded back…
We worked together very closely from 88-89 to 94. We were neighbours: I was living back then in Tuapse while Tseshkovsky was in Krasnodar. From time to time someone would work with me – one local master or another. At some point it became clear that I could develop into a very strong player, so they decided to find me a coach who had a very deep understanding of chess. Tseshkovsky automatically emerged as a candidate – in the Krasnodar Region there were no other chess players at his level.
Kramnik was born in Tuapse on the Black Sea coast, about 150 km from the regional centre of Krasnodar
The only problem was that Tuapse and Krasnodar weren’t located very close to each other, so it wasn’t that easy for us to meet often. Moreover, he was still playing regularly himself, and posting very decent results. So we spent more time together at tournaments, and sometimes at training camps. On more than one occasion we stayed in the same hotel room when he was helping me at junior competitions. Of course we talked and worked a lot on chess. Back then I was still very young, so we didn’t quite communicate as equals. He certainly didn’t treat me as a child – he shared his thoughts with me and told me a lot of interesting things – but there weren’t any disputes or long dialogues between us, as after all we were people from different generations. He was a very intelligent, scrupulous man and never applied pressure or imposed his opinion on me. He’d apologise five times before expressing his disagreement with something. He was an honest, decent man, and had no malice at all. He might not get on with someone very well, but I never heard malice in his voice. He had no desire to settle scores with anyone or take revenge and so on. It seems to me he never did anything bad to anyone.
Tseshkovsky was a very interesting, original and unconventional chess player. Above all, he really loved chess. He was one of those rare people who could analyse any position. I remember his favourite pose: half-lying on the bed, supporting his head in his hands; in front of him – a magnetic chess set from Riga, which he always took with him. At junior championships when I returned to the room I could find him, for example, analysing some game from the “64” magazine; let’s say, Rodriguez – Gutierrez from the Columbian Championship. If a position caught his interest he could analyse it for three or four hours. He moved the pieces, had a think, moved the pieces, and again had a think… That seemed a little strange to me and I once said: if you like analysing so much perhaps it would be better to take some position from your repertoire? But he was ready to study any idea that caught his interest. That, of course, is a rare quality, found only among people who genuinely love chess!
It seems to me that Vitaly Tseshkovsky didn’t achieve all he could because he loved chess too much: he had an enormous love of playing and analysing, while the practical result didn’t particularly bother him. Of course, he had to earn money and take care of his family, but essentially he simply loved playing chess. I’ve rarely met such enthusiasm for analysis! He could be drawn into some study or even a selfmate. He’d put it on the board and spend half a day solving it. I was amused by all that, and us kids would laugh at him when he’d enthusiastically tell us: “A difficult puzzle, but how interesting!” There’d be some irrational position on the board – a selfmate in 10 moves or some such madness! And he’d share his emotions: “I already have a sense of what the construction should be, but I just can’t grasp the correct path…” It was a unique spectacle, and there are less and less such people…
Whether Tseshkovsky was at the same level as the great or a little below them is something I won’t try to judge; in general, it’s very hard to judge the scale of anyone’s talent. But it’s obvious that his sporting qualities were zero. He “got by” on account of his love of chess and his talent. If only he could have added sporting qualities… When he was on fire he would rip everyone apart, and no-one understood what was happening on the board! He had an amazing style: he really loved complex positions, and would deliberately complicate, complicate and complicate play… Moreover, by complex positions I don’t mean simply that they were tactical; he loved it when a lot of pieces remained and when, as far as possible, the struggle was taking place across the whole board. He loved to provoke turmoil on the board, when it was difficult to grasp what on earth was going on. That was his element, in which he’d outplay very strong grandmasters, and at times outplay them as if they were mere children. Of course he also had weaker sides to his game, but overall his style was very original and unconventional; I don’t even know who you could compare Tseshkovsky to. He always approached a position without any clear criteria for evaluating it: this is better, this is worse. He “diluted” me in this sense: after all, I’d studied the books of Nimzowitsch and Tarrasch, and the criteria there are very strict – this is good, this is bad. Vitaly Valeryevich, of course, understood chess more deeply than I did at the time and he was able to demonstrate that chess is much more multifaceted and not so categorical; sometimes it’s hard to grasp in general whether a position’s better or not. He enriched me in that regard.
I remember either in 1990 or 91 that we were at a training camp in Novogorsk before the World Junior Championship. The camp lasted a long time, about a fortnight, and it was boring to study all the time. At some point we sat down at the board and I said, “Perhaps we can play a little blitz?” He said: “Come on, then!” I was about 15 or 16 years old at the time and I was already playing pretty well. Of course, he was a stronger chess player, but I was young and my mind worked very quickly. Like any young chess player I loved to play blitz, especially against such a great player. He also really enjoyed it. And so we wound up playing for three days in a row, only taking a break for food and sleep. We didn’t even take any walks!
At first we kept a score, then we stopped, but it was about even: over three days perhaps someone won with a maximum of +5, while we played more games than you could count! No-one was particularly bothered about the score as we were both so caught up in the game, but for the sake of interest from some point we started to divide our marathon into 10-game matches. Sometimes I’d win a match, sometimes he would, but the gap was always only 1-2 points, no more.
Vitaly Valeryevich undoubtedly had a serious influence on my development as a chess player. As a youngster it’s very important to spend time with a strong player. I wouldn’t say that we analysed a great deal, although that also took place, but if you’ve got the ability to learn then it’s very important to have contact with a major player who sees the game differently and simply understands chess better than you do. He didn’t prepare special topics for our work together, but we’d simply sit at the board and start to look at certain positions, more or less related to my repertoire, though at times with no relation whatsoever. Sometimes he’d simply say: “I played an interesting game. Let’s analyse it!” And we could spend a few hours investigating that game. Of course, such an analytical process really enriched me. Tseshkovsky shared his thoughts, ideas and conceptions, and that was very useful.
In about 94 our cooperation came to an end because at that point chess had started to change significantly. Computers had appeared, while Vitaly Valeryevich worked the same way he always had, and wasn’t quite able to keep up with the growing volume of information. He analysed at incredible depth, but very slowly. That’s perfectly natural, but I had the impression that I simply wouldn’t have the time to process the necessary volume of information; it was better to sacrifice a little depth but look at more. I started to try working with different, younger people, who knew how to handle computers. Vitaly Valeryevich and I had no personal problems, but in terms of cooperating our paths gradually began to diverge. He was a man from a different generation, and it was hard for him to adapt to start working with computers. He loved chess more as a game than a profession. I was already in the Top-10, and I had “to work my head off”, regardless of whether I liked positions or not. For example, a slightly worse endgame had to be brought to a clear draw. Vitaly Valeryevich, on the other hand, wasn’t mentally prepared for such work. He loved chess as creativity. I understand that perfectly and welcome it, but back then that was already insufficient in order to reach the top. Our paths diverged, although afterwards we would still sometimes see each other and talk. In any case, our cooperation was very useful for me.
Of course it’s sad that people are leaving us from the generation I was connected to in my childhood. Recently Igor Yulyevich Botvinnik passed away, and I was also very upset when I saw that news during the tournament in London. I didn’t expect it at all as he’d always been so optimistic and had never complained about anything… Frankly speaking, I didn’t even know that he was over sixty; it always seemed to me that he was quite young. Literally a year ago we met in Paris, where he’d come to visit with his family. We met, had a good time together, and everything was so cheerful…. When I was accepted into the Botvinnik School he’d handled all the technical details and was a very good-natured man. Such blows one after another, people passing away. It’s a great pity, as you lose a part of your past…
Igor Botvinnik, Mikhail Botvinnik's nephew, passed away at the age of 61 on 5 December, 2011 | photo: RCF website
There are very few people left who are as selflessly devoted to chess as Vitaly Valeryevich was. He was a very independent, proud man, who didn’t like any kind of pressure, and was absolutely incapable of any bootlicking – that was incompatible with his personality. That was probably why Tseshkovsky was very rarely allowed to play in overseas tournaments, as at the time you often needed to "grease palms", to smile at someone at the right moment, bring them a little present and so on. But he didn’t like any of that, so he rarely travelled. In that sense he was a man from a “lost generation”. I think if he’d gone abroad, like Korchnoi, he’d have become a major player, at Timman’s level – he’d have been a constant in the Top-10. Although it’s hard to imagine Tseshkovsky living abroad as he was so Russian, so connected to Russian culture. At home he soured a little: he had the talent, but no tournaments. He told me that at some point he lost interest in his chess career development. He realised that he wasn’t Karpov, he wasn’t so great that they’d give him all the tournaments, but on the other hand while he didn’t have the tournaments he had no chance of becoming great. Tseshkovsky said: “I’m not capable of behaving so that I beg for these tournaments”. In a certain sense he gave up and decided that he’d simply play chess for pleasure.
Of course, there are lots of funny stories about him. There was one he loved to tell himself. Tseshkovsky was offered the chance to move from Omsk to Krasnodar so that the region would have its own very strong chess player. They gave him a big flat in the centre of the town on Krasnaya Street and offered good financial conditions, which immediately made him an eligible bachelor. And then he had a very serious romance and he and his beloved were already thinking about marriage. But – things just wouldn’t go well with his potential mother-in-law. It seemed as though she also wanted her daughter to marry a famous chess player, but nevertheless she had a dislike of Tseshkovsky. Now I’ll try to reproduce how Vitaly Valeryevich would tell it:
“One fine day I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for a bus and smoking. At that moment my future mother-in-law passed by and after brief greetings she uttered the following phrase:
– So, Vitaly, it turns out you also smoke!
After that I couldn’t restrain myself and replied:
– I also drink and love chasing after women!
And with that the romance suddenly came to an end.”
Tseshkovsky was a very direct man, with a sense of his own dignity. He could tell the chess leadership things to their faces. He was highly respected, but other people who were, let’s say, more tractable, would be sent to tournaments. It’s a pity that he didn’t achieve all that he could have done in chess. And in general, he could have lived longer. It seems to me that nature had granted him colossal – genuinely Siberian – health.
In his case it’s very symbolic that he died at the chessboard. After all, he played to the end – simply because he loved to play. I don’t think it brought Tseshkovsky much money, and any straightforward coaching activity would have earned him no less.
Farewell, Vitaly Valeryevich! May you rest in peace.
Spassky pays tribute to Vitaly Tseshkovsky
December 25, 2011 7:28 pm
Vitaly Tseshkovsky, a two-time USSR Chess Champion and influential coach, passed away on December 24th. Former World Chess Champion Boris Spassky has now joined Vugar Gashimov and many others in the chess world in paying his respects, with a moving tribute to his friend.
Spassky’s tribute was sent from Paris on Christmas Day to the Russian chess website e3e5.com:
B.V. Spassky: In Memoriam of V.V. Tseshkovsky
Dear Vitaly! You turned out to be too impatient and didn’t wait for me, and now I’m all in mourning and sorrow. Everyone loved you for your candour, integrity and decency. I’ve been remembering our chess encounters and recognising once again what a chess giant has left us. I recall how you brilliantly outplayed me in the Ufimtsev Defence in 1979 at the Spartakiad of the Peoples of the USSR. You always fought to bare kings and were a staunch opponent of putting up a pretend fight, never mind of short pre-arranged draws. Over the whole course of your chess life you fought and created… You were and remain in our memory a great chess player of creative exploration. Your combinational attacks will forever remain in the memory of a great number of chess fans. You were a fierce fighter and left our world during a chess battle. You had many chess friends – Yuri Balashov, Viktor Kupreichik, Alexander Nikitin – now they’re also mourning your loss along with me. Receive our last declarations of love and respect. I can’t but end these sorrowful lines by expressing the very deepest of sympathy for the family and loved ones of our friend.
The Tenth World Chess Champion Boris Spassky
As we noted in our report on Tseshkovsky’s death, he was Vladimir Kramnik’s coach during the crucial years when the future World Champion went from being a talented boy to an elite grandmaster. He also coached Vugar Gashimov, who wrote (via Chess-News):
I was very sad when I heard about it. I want to express my sympathy to his family, friends and the whole chess world. We’ve lost a wonderful and remarkable man. I’m truly glad that Vitaly Tseshkovsky played an important role in my chess career. He was my coach and I still remember all his advice, which touched not only on ideas at the chessboard but also an approach to chess. I’ll always be grateful to him for that. May you rest in peace, Vitaly Valeryevich.
December 25, 2011 7:28 pm
Vitaly Tseshkovsky, a two-time USSR Chess Champion and influential coach, passed away on December 24th. Former World Chess Champion Boris Spassky has now joined Vugar Gashimov and many others in the chess world in paying his respects, with a moving tribute to his friend.
Spassky’s tribute was sent from Paris on Christmas Day to the Russian chess website e3e5.com:
B.V. Spassky: In Memoriam of V.V. Tseshkovsky
Dear Vitaly! You turned out to be too impatient and didn’t wait for me, and now I’m all in mourning and sorrow. Everyone loved you for your candour, integrity and decency. I’ve been remembering our chess encounters and recognising once again what a chess giant has left us. I recall how you brilliantly outplayed me in the Ufimtsev Defence in 1979 at the Spartakiad of the Peoples of the USSR. You always fought to bare kings and were a staunch opponent of putting up a pretend fight, never mind of short pre-arranged draws. Over the whole course of your chess life you fought and created… You were and remain in our memory a great chess player of creative exploration. Your combinational attacks will forever remain in the memory of a great number of chess fans. You were a fierce fighter and left our world during a chess battle. You had many chess friends – Yuri Balashov, Viktor Kupreichik, Alexander Nikitin – now they’re also mourning your loss along with me. Receive our last declarations of love and respect. I can’t but end these sorrowful lines by expressing the very deepest of sympathy for the family and loved ones of our friend.
The Tenth World Chess Champion Boris Spassky
As we noted in our report on Tseshkovsky’s death, he was Vladimir Kramnik’s coach during the crucial years when the future World Champion went from being a talented boy to an elite grandmaster. He also coached Vugar Gashimov, who wrote (via Chess-News):
I was very sad when I heard about it. I want to express my sympathy to his family, friends and the whole chess world. We’ve lost a wonderful and remarkable man. I’m truly glad that Vitaly Tseshkovsky played an important role in my chess career. He was my coach and I still remember all his advice, which touched not only on ideas at the chessboard but also an approach to chess. I’ll always be grateful to him for that. May you rest in peace, Vitaly Valeryevich.
Tseshkovsky dies aged 67
December 24, 2011 2:47 pm
Vitaly Tseshkovsky, a former world top-10 player, two-time Russian Champion and a coach of among others Vladimir Kramnik, passed away today in Russia. He collapsed while playing in the first round of the final of the Krasnodar Region Rapid Cup and failed to regain consciousness.
Vitaly Valeryevich Tseshkovsky was born into a Polish family in Siberia on September 25, 1944, and broke into the chess elite as a 30-year-old in the mid-70s. Chessmetrics ranks him as no. 7 in the world towards the end of 1976, and his career included wins over Mikhail Tal, Vasily Smyslov and Garry Kasparov (you can play through a selection of his games at ChessVibes).
The highlight of his many tournament victories was probably winning the formidable USSR Championship twice, once in 1978 (where he tied with Tal, with 6 wins to Tal’s 5) and again in 1986. He was unlucky to finish 4th at the Manila Interzonal in 1976, when 3rd place was required to qualify for the Candidates Matches. Instead, he remained one of the many highly-talented Soviet grandmasters who never quite made an impact on the world stage due to the fierce competition in the Soviet Union. Nevertheless, he maintained a high level of play well into his 60s, with a rating of 2564 as recently as September 2010.
Tseshkovsky playing Peter Svidler at the Russian Championship Superfinal in 2004 - although he lost this game and five more he beat Alexander Morozevich and came close to beating none other than Garry Kasparov. Anatoly Karpov commented before the event: "Here, in this top field of players, he will have a tough time and will probably lose some hair. But Vitaly is an interesting player and he will try to sell his scalp as dearly as possibly" | ChessBase reports on the 2004 Superfinal
As well as his impressive playing career, he was a sought-after coach, and most notably mentored Vladimir Kramnik in the future World Champion’s formative years. Evgeny Surov at Chess-News drew attention to the following extract from Sergey Shipov’s round-up of the 2000 Kramnik-Kasparov match (the original was published at the now-defunct kasparovchess.ru, though it can still be read here):
In 1996 three people were returning from the French town of Le Touquet to Paris (it doesn’t sound bad to say to Paris, not Uryupinsk) – Grandmaster Tseshkovsky, Master Nikolai Vlasov and your humble servant. Vitaly Valeryevich was in excellent spirits and us youngsters eagerly listened to his interesting stories from an eventful life. Half the time he talked about his favourite pupil, Kramnik. I recall that is was the two-time USSR Champion Tseshkovsky who took care of the young Volodya from around the age of 12 to 20, travelling with him to events and working together with him on chess – in short, coaching him. And Vitaly Valeryevich told us about his first impression of the boy. “When I looked at some of his games together with him, a 12-year-old, I was simply in awe! I told his parents – what do you mean a Candidate Master? He understands chess the way I do. I see a grandmaster in him!” (I hope the maestro will forgive me this loose retelling…)
Today at the KasparovChess forum Shipov wrote the following after hearing of Tseshkovsky’s death:
What a nightmare…
An outstanding chess player, a wonderful coach, a spirited story-teller.
I was lucky to have played against and spent time with him.
A pity. A real pity.
December 24, 2011 2:47 pm
Vitaly Tseshkovsky, a former world top-10 player, two-time Russian Champion and a coach of among others Vladimir Kramnik, passed away today in Russia. He collapsed while playing in the first round of the final of the Krasnodar Region Rapid Cup and failed to regain consciousness.
Vitaly Valeryevich Tseshkovsky was born into a Polish family in Siberia on September 25, 1944, and broke into the chess elite as a 30-year-old in the mid-70s. Chessmetrics ranks him as no. 7 in the world towards the end of 1976, and his career included wins over Mikhail Tal, Vasily Smyslov and Garry Kasparov (you can play through a selection of his games at ChessVibes).
The highlight of his many tournament victories was probably winning the formidable USSR Championship twice, once in 1978 (where he tied with Tal, with 6 wins to Tal’s 5) and again in 1986. He was unlucky to finish 4th at the Manila Interzonal in 1976, when 3rd place was required to qualify for the Candidates Matches. Instead, he remained one of the many highly-talented Soviet grandmasters who never quite made an impact on the world stage due to the fierce competition in the Soviet Union. Nevertheless, he maintained a high level of play well into his 60s, with a rating of 2564 as recently as September 2010.
Tseshkovsky playing Peter Svidler at the Russian Championship Superfinal in 2004 - although he lost this game and five more he beat Alexander Morozevich and came close to beating none other than Garry Kasparov. Anatoly Karpov commented before the event: "Here, in this top field of players, he will have a tough time and will probably lose some hair. But Vitaly is an interesting player and he will try to sell his scalp as dearly as possibly" | ChessBase reports on the 2004 Superfinal
As well as his impressive playing career, he was a sought-after coach, and most notably mentored Vladimir Kramnik in the future World Champion’s formative years. Evgeny Surov at Chess-News drew attention to the following extract from Sergey Shipov’s round-up of the 2000 Kramnik-Kasparov match (the original was published at the now-defunct kasparovchess.ru, though it can still be read here):
In 1996 three people were returning from the French town of Le Touquet to Paris (it doesn’t sound bad to say to Paris, not Uryupinsk) – Grandmaster Tseshkovsky, Master Nikolai Vlasov and your humble servant. Vitaly Valeryevich was in excellent spirits and us youngsters eagerly listened to his interesting stories from an eventful life. Half the time he talked about his favourite pupil, Kramnik. I recall that is was the two-time USSR Champion Tseshkovsky who took care of the young Volodya from around the age of 12 to 20, travelling with him to events and working together with him on chess – in short, coaching him. And Vitaly Valeryevich told us about his first impression of the boy. “When I looked at some of his games together with him, a 12-year-old, I was simply in awe! I told his parents – what do you mean a Candidate Master? He understands chess the way I do. I see a grandmaster in him!” (I hope the maestro will forgive me this loose retelling…)
Today at the KasparovChess forum Shipov wrote the following after hearing of Tseshkovsky’s death:
What a nightmare…
An outstanding chess player, a wonderful coach, a spirited story-teller.
I was lucky to have played against and spent time with him.
A pity. A real pity.
1271. SY. Szachista
Szachista. 2011 ağustos sayısı, 36 sayfa.
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