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The Kirov Ballet
Munich, Germany (March 27-29, 1999)
by Marc Haegeman(Swan Lake and the Fokine evening)
The Kirov Ballet tours constantly these days. Large scale engagements in Japan, South America or London alternate with shorter visits sometimes comprising only two or three performances. Last March the Russian company spent nine days in the northern Italian town of Trieste, presenting the eternal moneymaker Swan Lake, followed by a blitz-stay in Munich, Germany, with two more Swan Lakes and a Fokine program consisting of Chopiniana, Scheherazade, and The Firebird. As one of the principal dancers ironically remarked in Munich: "I live in hotels."
In Munich the Kirov guested for three days as crowning piece of the local Ballettwoche 1999, a short festival of dance in the spiffy National Theater, home of the Bavarian State Opera and Ballet Companies. Faithful to the idea of "something for everybody", this Ballet Week presented the Kirov as well as Mats Ek’s Giselle and the premiere of Emma B, a new piece by Jean Grand-Maître, danced by the Bavarian State Ballet.
It was more than ten years ago that the Kirov Ballet was last seen in Munich. Audiences fondly remembered stars like Altynai Asylmuratova and Farukh Ruzimatov from that last engagement. Incidentally, both these dancers were now absent and it was basically a whole new Kirov Ballet appearing in Munich last March. Ten years is indeed a long time in ballet and those who had lost contact with the Russian company might have looked with amazement, even disbelief, at the extreme youthfulness of its dancers, the long limbs, the tall and lanky silhouettes, and of course the amount of precocious talent that was on display for the whole time.
The first performance of Swan Lake in Munich provided a perfect sample of what the Kirov Ballet on the eve of the third millennium, under the management of Makhar Vaziev, embodies. The Kirov classic manner is still a delight to see. The ensemble is ravishing, with foremost a splendidly moving corps de ballet, and headed by two undoubtedly gifted, but very young dancers of the newest crop, Svetlana Zakharova and Danila Korsuntsev.
Zakharova is only 19, yet in fact she hardly needs an introduction anymore. In a couple of years time La Zakharova became the pride of the company. She has already danced Masha in The Nutcracker, Giselle, Aurora, Maria in The Fountain of Bakhchisaray, now Odette/Odile, and Nikiya will be added to her repertoire soon. If all goes as planned, audiences in New York will have ample opportunity to admire her art in the coming Kirov season at the Met. Vaziev seems to have blind faith in her. History repeats itself, also in the Kirov Ballet.
Zakharova’s Swan Queen is undoubtedly the most convincing part I have seen her dance so far. Of course, even here there is still a lot of work to do, but at least in her Odette there is a kind of subdued, filtered emotion, while earlier performances were just bland or at best academic. Her excessive manner, with six-o’clock écartés aplenty, distracting in Giselle and The Sleeping Beauty, seems to be more under control. Only during the first encounter with Siegfried was there still a hint of aggressiveness (or perhaps it was just nerves), even resulting in a serious slip, but for the remainder, the performance was pleasingly elegant. Her Odile was brilliantly danced with a lot of dynamism, but again also with control, and her imitation of Odette in the Black Swan pas de deux was really convincing. Both characters need to be deepened dramatically and emotionally, but, taken at face-value, for somebody of her age it is already a stunning accomplishment.
In the second Swan Lake Irma Nioradze and Evgeny Ivanchenko danced the lead couple. I much preferred Nioradze because of the vision that lies behind her interpretation. Nioradze is about ten years older than Zakharova and there clearly went a lot of thought in her Odette/Odile. Hers is a fully developed reading, sincere and heartfelt. Nioradze’s Swan Queen is a truly tragic character, who seems to have lost all hope in salvation. She immediately strikes a note of anguish and tension, only to disappear when Rothbart is destroyed. Nioradze’s musicality and understanding of the choreography is apparent in the whole White Swan pas de deux, which she constructs as one big phrase, gradually building up the tension until the final climax shatters all hope again. Her Odile, sharply different from the genuine lyricism of her Odette, burst onto the stage as a whirlwind, dancing with energy, confidence, and fierceness. Her appearance culminated in exciting cascades of technical fireworks.
What was still lacking in this performance, as well as in many others in Munich, was the interplay, the communication, between the leading dancers. Even Nioradze’s warmth and passion hardly ever touched Ivanchenko, who was just too much concerned with partnering. The Siegfrieds were two of a kind for that matter: very tall, with a beautiful, long line, good legs and feet, technically accomplished, but dramatically non existent. Korsuntsev, who has been taken into the Kirov recently from Moscow, and Ivanchenko may be able partners and adequate dancers, yet they are two of the most colorless and dull princes that ever set foot on that lakeside. They do not find any joy in their dancing. At the big climax in the final scene they both appear too late on the stage, as if walking in the park bound to feed the ducks in the pond. I sometimes wonder if they ever listen to the music. Unbelievable, such potential, though very little happens.
These bloodless figures stood in contrast to the powerful and strongly characterized dancing of Ilya Kuznetsov’s evil Rothbart. He is young as well, however his presence is undeniable. From the start he commands the stage with his dynamism and attack. When he presented his Odile in the ballroom, one felt what dancing together really means. How sad he eventually dies.
The Kirov dances Swan Lake in the authoritative staging of Konstantin Sergeyev, dating from 1950, which, certain flaws notwithstanding, may still count more than most as a model of how to present this ballet. The lakeside scenes offer visions of grandeur and unsurpassed beauty, and the Kirov corps de ballet justified its reputation as the real prima ballerina of the company. For the pas de trois in the first act the, Kirov found an exquisite trio in Maya Dumchenko, Irina Zhelonkina and Ruben Bobovnikov.
The Fokine triple-bill has always been a successful night out. It brings a lot of diversity, from the impressionism and nostalgia of the opening Chopiniana, to the sensuality and exoticism of Scheherazade, and the mysterious fairytale-world of The Firebird. As Andris Liepa, who played an important role in bringing this part of the Fokine legacy to the Russian stage, remarked after the performance, these ballets are 90 years old and often derided as old-fashioned, yet the attraction they still exert on present-day audiences-as could be seen again in Munich--is undeniable. Liepa re-staged with Isabelle Fokine, granddaughter of the famous choreographer, Scheherazade and The Firebird, going back to the eye-catching designs by Bakst and Golovine.
Chopiniana was well danced by the corps de ballet and by a magical Irina Zhelonkina, one of the most underrated artists in the company, yet perfectly suited for this repertoire. Evgeny Ivanchenko was too stodgy and stiff to be really memorable as the Poet, and again he hardly related to his ballerina. If only he could repeat in performance what he accomplishes in rehearsal or class.
In Sheherazade Yulia Makhalina’s haughty and sophisticated Zobeide was courted by Islom Baimuradov as the Golden Slave. Baimuradov, a talented young caractère dancer, new to this role, provided excitement aplenty even if his reading was one-dimensional and lacked the animal magnetism of Ruzimatov.
The Firebird was danced by Tatiana Amosova, a forcefully brilliant technician, but too Valkyrian-like to my taste to be wholly convincing. No subtlety, very little magic, just sheer force and physicality. It is a visually stunning performance, but in the end superficial. Liepa brought the role of Ivan Tsarevich to life and was a relief after seeing so many boring Ivans. Vladimir Ponomarev was absolutely great as the evil Kastchei.
Makhar Vaziev justly continues to believe in the value of the classics and of course his company, superbly trained, knows to present them with an absolute commitment and sweeping power which are truly irresistible, as was obvious once more from the rapturous response of the packed theater. However, a German critic was right to regret the absence of all the famous names, Makhalina excepted. Because it is precisely on that account that the Kirov disappoints. The ensemble and the presentation remain unique, yet it is by the immaturity and the lack of vision and soul of many of the leading dancers that one feels let down. Many young principals we saw in Munich still have a long way to go, no matter how talented. And pushing them as today’s stars or considering them already great personalities comparable to artists like Kolpakova or Shelest sounds a bit too much like self-deceit.