The Kirov-the world’s premier dance company, the company of
Petipa and Fokine, of Nijinsky and Pavlova, of Balanchine and Danilova and
Spessivtseva, of Nureyev and Makarova and Baryshnikov-is finally lurching into
the 20th century (forget the 21st). Having missed modernism and postmodernism,
and with the West now available both as inspiration and cash cow, it’s hurrying
to catch up. On the evidence of its recent season at the Kennedy Center,
though, the company is in a state of confusion, rushing pell-mell in two
different and opposite directions at once. In fact, the Washington program-Petipa’s
Sleeping Beauty paired with
Balanchine’s Jewels -can serve as an
exact metaphor for the Kirov today.
This Sleeping Beauty ,
first seen in New York a year and a half ago, is based scrupulously, and
sterilely, on the original version of 1890. It’s awash in authenticity:
costumes, sets, mime, dramatic incidents all reproduced almost
photographically. Only the style is missing-and the heart. No matter how fine
certain performances may be-and Svetlana Zakharova, the splendid young beauty
of the company, is a highly effective Aurora-the production is never more than
a nearly four-hour pictorial curiosity. This Aurora proceeds from her coming-of-age party to her awakening from the
100-year sleep to her wedding with no sign of growth-she’s a pretty girl who dances
well, not a distillation of the journey from girlhood to womanhood. The idea
that the world has been restored to harmony after the defeat of spite and
malice is lost in a welter of colorful specialty acts. The final pas de deux is
just another virtuoso exhibition, not a climax of healing and hope. The most
resonant of classical ballets has been reduced to spectacle. Who cares whether
the costumes are authentic? I’m reminded of those historical movies from the
Golden Age of Hollywood in which every swatch of fabric and every powdered
peruke is in impeccable period style, while the dialogue sounds like Ring
Lardner on a bad day.
To make matters worse, Tchaikovsky’s score-the greatest of all
ballet scores-was mauled by the Kennedy Center orchestra. Blaring horns, muffed
notes, moments when it seemed that different sections of the orchestra were
completely out of touch with each other-this was the coarsest rendition of this
glorious music that I’ve ever heard: a disgraceful contrast to the masterly
playing of the company’s own orchestra as heard in New York.
So much for the Kirov looking backward. Looking forward, at least
to 1967, they brought us their recent production of Jewels , and if Sleeping
Beauty looked fast asleep 112 years after its premiere, Balanchine managed
to kiss the company awake. For many years, Jewels
was performed only by City Ballet. Recently, other American companies-notably,
Miami City Ballet-have danced it, and indeed Miami’s version was a big success
at the Kennedy Center just last year. No wonder: Edward Villella, who runs
Miami, was the original male lead in the “Rubies” section of Jewels , and he’s had its three original
leading ballerinas-Violette Verdy, Patricia McBride and Suzanne Farrell-in to
coach.
The Kirov’s version was staged by four ex–City Ballet dancers,
and staged extremely well. But staging isn’t everything. Zhanna Ayupova and
Veronika Part are both lovely dancers, but neither of them has a clue about the
very special musicality and wit that is the essence of “Emeralds” and its
haunting Fauré score. The famous Verdy solo with its ingenious arm gestures,
the strikingly original walking duet made on the expressive Mimi Paul-the steps
were there, but the phrasing was tentative and bland. In fact, the most
successful part of “Emeralds” was the trio, more conventional than the solos
and duets, and so more comfortable for the Kirov dancers. And then the powers
that be chose to eliminate the plaintive and moving coda that Balanchine added
in 1976 for the three male and four female leads. For those of us who for 25
years have been watching “Emeralds” as Balanchine preferred it, seeing it
interruptus was very jarring. Interesting, though, to see Balanchine’s genius
for getting things right confirmed. Let’s hope that by the time Jewels turns up in the Kirov’s Met
season this coming July, this unique masterpiece will have been restored to its
entirety.
The Kirov has also gone back to the splotchy look of the original
set that now seems oddly ugly compared with later treatments. Authenticity
again? Should the company take on The
Four Temperaments , will it feel compelled to restore the original 1946
costumes by Kurt Seligmann that were quickly discarded when it became clear
that the ballet was swamped by them?
If “Emeralds” was lacking its French perfume, the Kirov dancers
rose hungrily to the challenge of the jazz-accented “Rubies.” You could see
them biting into the music as if they’d been waiting all their lives to meet
Stravinsky and the 20th century. The very young Irina Golub and her partner,
Andrian Fadeyev, weren’t McBride and Villella, but they tore into “Rubies” with
understanding and energy, and pulled it off. And the second-cast Diana
Vishneva, pallid and unconvincing as the opening-night Aurora, was as good a
Ruby as we’ve seen since McBride. She has the flashing legs, the lithe body,
the wickedly humorous look, and she seemed happily at home in Balanchine. Talk
about a Sleeping Beauty awakened!
As for “Diamonds,” its quintessential Farrell role has had many
successful interpreters, most resoundingly Kyra Nichols and Darci Kistler, and
at the first Washington performance, Svetlana Zakharova was as imposing as
anyone since Farrell. This is Balanchine’s ultimate evocation of Russian
classicism, set to Tchaikovsky’s Third Symphony (minus its first movement), and its style posed no problems for the Kirov.
The corps was energized, even through the long and somewhat pro forma opening
section; they may look stiff compared with Balanchine-trained dancers, but they
seemed thrilled to be coping with the demands Balanchine was making on them.
Indeed, at the curtain calls for both “Rubies” and “Diamonds,” as the audience
cheered and cheered, the dancers were grinning with excitement and pleasure.
And why not? After serving as mobile costume racks through most of the endless
length of Beauty , they were finally
out there dancing . Zakharova’s
success came as no surprise: She’s a magnificent, dominating performer. The
surprise came from second-cast Daria Pavlenko, even younger than Zakharova, less
imposing, but with a soft and appealing authority. Watching her and the other
leading Kirov women was a bitter reminder of the paucity of true ballerinas
here in America. City Ballet can field no women today in “Rubies” or “Diamonds”
to compare with the Kirov’s. (The situation is just the reverse with men.)
Have the Russians fully absorbed and conquered Jewels ? Not yet. However strong their
performances, they’re still cautious in phrasing and accent. Even the
triumphant “Diamonds” ballerinas were conventional in style, closer to Swan Lake than to the dangerous lunges
and risky off-balances with which Farrell amazed us. The great dancers of
Balanchine’s City Ballet have always been extreme, both in dance personality
and daring. At bottom, it’s a question of musicality: The Kirov dancers dance
on top of the music; they don’t live in it and play with it and expand in it
the way Balanchine dancers must.
But this is not to detract from the overall success of the
Kirov’s brave venture. Or to underplay the benefits that its dancers are
certain to take away from exposure to the vitality and demands of Balanchine. Sleeping Beauty pits the forces of
darkness (Carabosse) against the forces of light (the Lilac Fairy). The Kirov
today is pitted against itself, pulled between its fascination with retrograde faux-authenticity (we’re being
treated to an “authentic” 1900 Bayadère at the Met in July) and its courageous
steps toward a necessary awakening. Will the Lilac Fairy prevail?
