Childhood and youth
Sergei Sergeevich Chumakov was born on June 7, 1972 in Moscow. The family lived on the Butyrsky farm, dad worked as a waiter, and mom held the position of a crane operator in the construction and installation department. The boy still spoke poorly, but was already drawn to music. As soon as they turned on the song of some popular group at that time, Seryozha immediately began to sing along and dance.
Singer Sergey Chumakov
At the age of 6 years, the child was enrolled in classes at a music school. After auditioning, Sergei was accepted into the choir class. But in class the boy was bored: he did not listen to the teacher and drew in his notebooks. They did not tolerate such an attitude towards studies, so Chumakov was soon expelled. Already as an adult, Sergei admitted that he had never mastered musical notation, but sang songs by ear.
When the boy turned 7 years old, he went to study in the 1st grade of a comprehensive school. In the summer, the boy was often sent to a pioneer camp.
Sergei Chumakov in his youth
Once during the holidays, when Chumakov was already in the 6th grade, the older guys taught him to play 3 chords. Upon arrival home, Sergei demonstrated his guitar playing to his courtyard friends. Soon he had a personal instrument, which he did not part with.
In addition to his musical hobbies, the young man attended boxing and hockey training. After finishing 10th grade, Chumakov entered the Mechanical Construction College, which he graduated in 1990. The guy even worked for some time in his specialty - as a dairy equipment adjuster.
Discography
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This included songs based on poems by German Enin, Alexander Shaganov and other poets.
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Sergei Chumakov planned to release the fourth album in the fall of 2015, but it was never released.
Music
We can say with confidence that Chumakov’s musical career began by a happy occasion. One day Sergei and his friends were spending time in the yard: he was playing the guitar and singing a song. At that moment, an unfamiliar girl passed by: she stopped to listen to Chumakov and, praising the guy, asked for his phone number. Soon Sergei received a call and made an appointment with Alexander Shaganov: the poet could not find an artist for his own songs.
Sergei Chumakov’s song “From spring to spring”
After the audition, the guy was offered cooperation, Chumakov agreed. Within a few days, Sergei met Valery Bashnev. The songs performed to the music of this talented composer became real hits in the future, and 4 of them were included in the international catalog of the best hits.
Sergei Chumakov gained popularity due to his participation in the TV show “Morning Star”, where young talents in the field of music and dance were revealed.
Sergei Chumakov's song “Viper”
Soon after this, the young man participated in the annual “Christmas Meetings” program, where Alla Pugacheva personally invited him. Then Chumakov was invited to concert programs, he toured the country and recorded albums. Chumakov’s popularity grew; the young performer was at the peak of his popularity at that moment.
Despite this, Sergei did not even buy a house, because all the funds were spent on feasts. At the same time, there were fewer and fewer friends; not everyone supported the singer in the “festivities” organized.
Sergei Chumakov's song “Go ahead”
Gradually the money ran out, and Sergei needed to earn a living. When his creative life faded away, Chumakov returned to his parents’ house, got a job as a taxi driver and worked part-time as a loader.
When Sergei Chumakov disappeared from the stage, there were rumors that the Prima Donna forbade him to perform one of the then popular songs, which was written specifically for her protégé, Sergei Chelobanov. Sergei denied all the journalists’ speculations. Soon the singer admitted that at that time there was not enough money to appear on television.
Sergei Chumakov’s song “Spring has spree” (“What if you left me”)
In 2011, an unexpected turn occurred in Chumakov’s biography: he acquired a producer, Yuri Dubilevsky. Then the man recorded several new songs and began to actively perform in the cities of the Moscow region. The same year he participated in the “Let's Get Married” program.
Two years later, Chumakov starred in the television program “Let Them Talk,” and in 2014, the NTV channel broadcast a program about the singer’s life and work.
Success
Popularity came after participating in the TV singing competition “Morning Star”. After it there were “Christmas meetings”, concert programs, tours and album recordings. Suddenly, the successful vocalist disappeared from the stage.
A family misfortune that occurred in 2004 prevented the vocalist from returning to singing until 2010. He worked as a loader and was a taxi driver.
His return to the stage took place only in 2011. Having recorded several new songs, Sergei appeared on television. In 2013, Chumakov performed Santa’s song in the animated project “Save Santa.” A year later, on the NTV channel, viewers saw a program about the singer’s work. In 2021, the singer registered his own label and presented a new collection “Cryptokaleidoscope”. He sings about how a person controls his own destiny and talks about how one should never give up.
Personal life
One day, before filming a musical program, Sergei noticed a pretty girl, Svetlana, who worked as a make-up artist. Soon the young people began dating and got married. The intensive work schedule did not allow the singer to be at home often: he visited his wife for just a couple of days and went on tour again.
Sergey Chumakov and Lyudmila Narkulova
Such a relationship did not suit Svetlana; the young people often fought, which led to a quick divorce.
Chumakov married for the second time in 1995 to former athlete Lyudmila. The girl actively participated in Sergei’s musical career and insisted on changing the producer. Such interference did not benefit either the career or personal life of the couple.
Sergei Chumakov with his wife Lyudmila
Husband and wife often quarreled out of jealousy, especially over young fans of Chumakov, whose behavior was often incorrect.
After a year, the country faced a difficult time: businesses stopped paying salaries, people did not attend entertainment events. Concerts had to be cancelled, which upset Chumakov. This led the man to alcohol and the collapse of his marriage with Lyudmila.
Sergey Chumakov now
Now Sergei continues to record new songs and tour. Through his own example of struggling with alcohol addiction, he showed that you need to overcome troubles and go towards your goal.
Sergey Chumakov in April 2021
Chumakov recently changed his image, but not of his own free will. It's all about the dispute: during the 2018 World Cup, Sergei was rooting for the Croatian team, but the French team won. In this regard, Chumakov went to a barbershop and shaved his head, as this was the condition of the bet in case of loss to Croatia.
Chumakov has an unverified account on the Instagram social network, where the singer regularly shares photos and videos of life events with subscribers.
It is often thought that Sergei is a relative of Alexei Chumakov, but this is not so.
Sergei Chumakov shaved his head in July 2021
The singer prefers to keep his personal life secret, but it is known that Sergei is not married and has no children.
Chumakov’s height and weight are unknown, but the singer is in good physical shape. According to Sergei, his creative profession obliges him to have a toned figure. Sometimes, in order not to gain extra pounds, the singer refuses certain foods.
An excerpt characterizing Chumakov, Sergey Sergeevich
The hospital was located in a small Prussian town, twice devastated by Russian and French troops. Precisely because it was in the summer, when it was so nice in the field, this place, with its broken roofs and fences and its dirty streets, ragged inhabitants and drunken and sick soldiers wandering around it, presented a particularly gloomy sight. In a stone house, in a courtyard with the remains of a dismantled fence, some broken frames and glass, there was a hospital. Several bandaged, pale and swollen soldiers walked and sat in the courtyard in the sun. As soon as Rostov entered the door of the house, he was overwhelmed by the smell of a rotting body and a hospital. On the stairs he met a Russian military doctor with a cigar in his mouth. A Russian paramedic followed the doctor. “I can’t burst,” said the doctor; - Come to Makar Alekseevich in the evening, I’ll be there. – The paramedic asked him something else. - Eh! do as you please! Doesn't it matter? - The doctor saw Rostov climbing the stairs. - Why are you here, your honor? - said the doctor. - Why are you here? Or the bullet didn’t kill you, so you want to get typhus? Here, father, is the house of lepers. - From what? - asked Rostov. - Typhus, father. Whoever rises will die. Only the two of us with Makeyev (he pointed to the paramedic) are chatting here. At this point, about five of our brother doctors died. “As soon as the new one arrives, he’ll be ready in a week,” the doctor said with visible pleasure. “They called Prussian doctors, because our allies don’t like that.” Rostov explained to him that he wanted to see the hussar major Denisov lying here. - I don’t know, I don’t know, father. Just think, I have three hospitals for one person, 400 patients are too many! It’s also good, the Prussian ladies who are benefactors send us coffee and lint at two pounds a month, otherwise they would be lost. - He laughed. – 400, father; and they keep sending me new ones. After all, there are 400? A? – he turned to the paramedic. The paramedic looked exhausted. He was apparently waiting with annoyance to see how soon the chattering doctor would leave. “Major Denisov,” Rostov repeated; – he was wounded near Moliten. - It seems he died. Eh, Makeev? – the doctor asked the paramedic indifferently. The paramedic, however, did not confirm the doctor’s words. - Why is he so long and reddish? - asked the doctor. Rostov described Denisov's appearance. “There was, there was one,” the doctor said as if joyfully, “this one must have died, but I can handle it, I had the lists.” Do you have it, Makeev? “Makar Alekseich has the lists,” said the paramedic. “Come to the officers’ chambers, you’ll see for yourself there,” he added, turning to Rostov. “Eh, it’s better not to go, father,” said the doctor, “otherwise you might end up staying here.” “But Rostov bowed to the doctor and asked the paramedic to accompany him. “Don’t blame me too much,” the doctor shouted from under the stairs. Rostov and the paramedic entered the corridor. The hospital smell was so strong in this dark corridor that Rostov grabbed his nose and had to stop to gather his strength and move on. A door opened to the right, and a thin, yellow man, barefoot and wearing only underwear, leaned out on crutches. He leaned against the lintel and looked at those passing by with shining, envious eyes. Looking through the door, Rostov saw that the sick and wounded were lying there on the floor, on straw and overcoats. -Can I come in and have a look? - asked Rostov. - What should I watch? - said the paramedic. But precisely because the paramedic obviously did not want to let him in, Rostov entered the soldiers’ chambers. The smell he had already smelled in the corridor was even stronger here. This smell has changed somewhat here; he was sharper, and one could feel that this was where he came from. In a long room, brightly lit by the sun through large windows, the sick and wounded lay in two rows, with their heads to the walls and leaving a passage in the middle. Most of them were in oblivion and did not pay attention to those who entered. Those who were in memory all stood up or raised their thin, yellow faces, and all with the same expression of hope for help, reproach and envy of other people's health, without taking their eyes off, looked at Rostov. Rostov went out into the middle of the room, looked into the neighboring rooms with open doors, and saw the same thing on both sides. He stopped, silently looking around him. He never expected to see this. In front of them lay almost across the middle aisle, on the bare floor, a sick man, probably a Cossack, because his hair was cut into a brace. This Cossack was lying on his back, with his huge arms and legs outstretched. His face was crimson red, his eyes were completely rolled back, so that only the whites were visible, and on his bare feet and on his hands, still red, the veins were strained like ropes. He hit the back of his head on the floor and said something hoarsely and began to repeat the word. Rostov listened to what he was saying and made out the word he was repeating. The word was: drink - drink - drink! Rostov looked around, looking for someone who could put this patient in his place and give him water. -Who takes care of the sick here? – he asked the paramedic. At this time, a Furstadt soldier, a hospital attendant, came out of the next room and stood up in front of Rostov with a beating step. - I wish you good health, your honor! – this soldier shouted, rolling his eyes at Rostov and, obviously, mistaking him for the hospital authorities. “Take him away, give him water,” said Rostov, pointing to the Cossack. “I’m listening, your honor,” the soldier said with pleasure, rolling his eyes even more diligently and stretching out, but without moving from his place. “No, there’s nothing you can do here,” Rostov thought, lowering his eyes, and was about to leave, but on the right side he felt a significant gaze directed at himself and looked back at him. Almost in the very corner, sitting on an overcoat with a thin, stern face, yellow as a skeleton, and an unshaven gray beard, sat an old soldier and stubbornly looked at Rostov. On the one hand, the old soldier’s neighbor whispered something to him, pointing at Rostov. Rostov realized that the old man intended to ask him for something. He came closer and saw that the old man had only one leg bent, and the other was not at all above the knee. Another neighbor of the old man, lying motionless with his head thrown back, quite far from him, was a young soldier with a waxy pallor on his snub-nosed face, still covered with freckles, and with eyes rolled back under his eyelids. Rostov looked at the snub-nosed soldier, and a chill ran down his spine.
