Ivan Bunin and Fedor Shaliapin met in November 1901 in Podolsk. They became close quickly, made friends, and often met at literary and artistic evenings.

In the 1900s, the literary circle ‘Sreda’ began to gather in the Moscow flat of the writer Nikolai Teleshov, Ivan Bunin was one of the participants. Fedor Shaliapin also took an interest in the circle. Teleshov recalled: ‘We had a rule: never ask any of the artists who were with us to perform anything. If you want – perform, if you don’t want – don’t perform. And no one was supposed to be begged… And on his arrival to us [Shaliapin] waited for such a usual request for him, but did not hear it. Later, he appreciated this, as he admitted himself, and without any arrogance he often sang with us for a long time and a lot. He sang romances, Russian folk songs, which he loved and sang amazingly, sang couplets, jokes, even French chansonettes’.

In his article ‘Shaliapin’ Bunin described one of the evenings in Teleshov’s house:
“Chaliapin was a frequent guest with us… Once, having arrived at “Sreda”, he immediately said:
– Brothers, I want to sing!

He called Rakhmaninov by phone and told him the same:

– I want to sing so much! Take a fast driver and come immediately. We will sing all night.

… It is easy to imagine what kind of evening it was – the mix of Shaliapin and Rakhmaninov. Shaliapin quite rightly said that evening:

– It is not the Bolshoi Theatre. You should not listen to me there, but at such evenings, next to Serezha’.
In his memoirs about Shaliapin, Bunin wrote:

‘So he sang once and at my place in Capri, at the Quisisana Hotel, where my wife and I lived for three winters in a row. We gave a dinner in honour of his arrival, invited Gorky and someone else from the Capri Russian colony. After dinner, Shaliapin volunteered to sing. It happened to be an absolutely amazing evening again. In the dining room and in all salons of the hotel, everyone who lived in it and many Caprians crowded… When I once had breakfast with him in Paris, he himself recalled that evening:

– Do you remember how I sang at your place in Capri?

Then he turned on the gramophone, began to play the records he had sung in previous years, and listened to himself with tears in his eyes, muttering:

– I sang well! God grant it for everyone to sing like this! ’

The last time Bunin attended Shaliapin’s performance in June 1937 in Paris. Ivan Alekseevich recalled:

“He gave a concert, sang alone, then with the choir of Athos. I think that even then he was seriously ill. He was extremely worried. Of course, he was always worried, with all his performances – this is a common thing… But the audience had never seen it before. But at this concert they saw, and Shaliapin was saved only due to his talent of gestures and intonations. He sent me a note from behind the curtains asking me to come to him. I came. He stood pale, in a sweat, with a cigarette in a trembling hand, and asked immediately:

– Well, how did I sing?

– Of course, excellent, – I replied. And he joked:

– So good that I sang along with you all the time and outraged the audience greatly.

– Thank you, dear, please sing along, – he replied with a vague smile…”