Mariinsky's 'Giselle' boasts artistry, technical brilliance

In the three decades I've been following dance in this town, I've seen more productions of "Giselle" than any other work, but probably none as precise, finely executed or technically expressive as the one in residence this weekend at the Auditorium Theatre.

Thursday's opening of the Kirov Ballet—officially known since Soviet times as Mariinsky Ballet and Orchestra—was a model of classic storytelling and surety of technique. The steps and staging are about the same as just about every other conventional production. ("Giselle" has been subject to postmodern reinvention). But the brilliance, elan and mastery of Diana Vishneva and Igor Kolb, as peasant Giselle and her errant nobleman lover, are something to behold. There were dazzling moments, to be sure, but, in keeping with the Kirov's virtues, this is not a production flashy in circus showmanship. This is one of great beauty and technical follow-through, of supreme confidence and elegance in technical command and finesse. Vishneva particularly, one of the great ballerinas of our day, extends and manipulates her arms with the subtlest of superlative nuance, just as every pirouette, arabesque, hop on point and landing seems a lesson in perfection.

The swarthy Vishneva is fairy tale heroine personified. Kolb doesn't share those instantly pleasing good looks. But his immaculate execution, his amazing kicks, his turns and leaps are enjoyable and sometimes breathtaking. One downside to the overall achievement is that viewers far back in the theater won't appreciate all the expert detail. But at worst they'll enjoy a very fine and lovely rendering.

Attention must be paid to Ekaterina Kondaurova's Myrtha. Watch closely as she executes her bourrees, those tricky steps that enable her to float across the stage. The speed and delicacy of her feet recall a hummingbird's wings, while elsewhere her long limbs and impressive execution add up to a gorgeously lyrical performance

There's no finer corps de ballet anywhere, and in the ghostly, snow-white scene involving the Wilis, the Mariinsky women are on rare display, unified and magical in transforming sometimes awkward acrobatics into poetry.

By Sid Smith | Special to the Chicago Tribune
October 4, 2008

'Giselle performances'

•2 p.m. Saturday: Olesia Novikova is a relative newcomer to the troupe, joining in 2002. She and partner Vladimir Shklyarov are ranked as first soloists—a chance to catch young and up-and-coming Kirov talents.

•8 p.m. Saturday: Veteran Irma Nioradze, popular back home, stars as Giselle, dancing with Evgeny Ivanchenko, an acclaimed dancer noted for his breathtaking jumps.

•2 p.m. Sunday: Thursday's leads, Vishneva and Kolb, among the finest dancers in the world and not to be missed, return.

Valery Gergiev stamps his mark on the Mariinsky Ballet

The autocratic Valery Gergiev has stamped his mark in the Mariinsky Ballet, but is he really the right man for the job?

Debra Craine



Russian ballet companies love their autocrats, and the recent history of the Kirov and Bolshoi is defined by the tyrants who ruled them. But in Valery Gergiev, the head of St Petersburg's celebrated Mariinsky Theatre, the Kirov has the greatest autocrat of all.

You might know him as one of the world's most fêted conductors, but as the artistic and general director of the Mariinsky he's responsible for the Kirov Ballet as well as the Kirov Opera. Over the past decade, this firebrand Russian maestro has consolidated his influence on the ballet. His supporters will tell you that he rescued the company from financial ruin and artistic paralysis (it was certainly in a mess when he took over in 1996). His detractors will tell you that his ignorance about dance has impeded his decision-making and, worse, that his favouritism towards the opera means that the ballet goes starved for cash while singers flourish.

Gergiev is quick to scorn such criticisms. “The ballet is an equal partner to the opera in my theatre,” he says. And he doesn't micro-manage the ballet either, he insists, though you can be sure that Yuri Fateyev, recently appointed as ballet director, will be dancing to Gergiev's tune. So what is his job description? Indeed, what with running one of the world's top opera companies, fulfilling his duties as principal conductor of the London Symphony Orchestra, schmoozing Russian presidents and overseeing a new opera house in St Petersburg, where does he find the time to even think about dance? “I'm the strategic thinker,” says the indefatigable and famously stressed 55-year-old. “My role is to support everything that helps this company to continue its tradition and yet create something new.”

Gergiev certainly has to carry the can for the disaster of the ballet's last London season, two years ago. Then it was “something new” that got them into trouble. Thanks to a hastily arranged staging of The Golden Age - intended as the dance centrepiece of his much-vaunted Shostakovich celebrations - the company, then led by Makhar Vaziev, suffered the kind of critical vitriol that would have sent a lesser troupe home to lick its wounds for a decade. “Vaziev's choice of choreographer was a big mistake,” Gergiev says. “The project was too big for Noah Gelber and the result wasn't good. I was very upset and I blame myself for not intervening. I never want to see experimentation go that far again.”

Gergiev is obviously hoping to make a better impression this time round. The 2008 London season, which opens next Monday, showcases a very different facet of the Mariinsky troupe. The venue is smaller - Sadler's Wells instead of the Coliseum or the Royal Opera House; the repertoire is more streamlined and modern than the usual fare; and the company is coming without its internationally acclaimed ballerinas, and with very few of its principal dancers. The Russians have chosen instead to field their “A Team of young stars”. So keep an eye out for Ekaterina Kondaurova, Olesya Novikova, Elena Sheshina and Evgenya Obraztsova.

And why not the Coliseum or Covent Garden? “There is a particular image of Sadler's Wells that is more innovative and unusual,” Gergiev says. “It's not the place for us to bring Swan Lake. There's a new phase at the Mariinsky Ballet, reflecting changes that the people of London may not know so well.”

Those changes are reflected in a repertoire solely devoted to 20th-century choreography, including landmark works by George Balanchine, iconoclastic trailblazers by the American William Forsythe and newer work by the Russian Alexei Ratmansky. Of course it's the wonders of the Mariinsky's 19th-century heritage - Swan Lake, The Sleeping Beauty, La Bayadère - that have captivated the world, but Gergiev is determined that the Mariinsky (they don't call it the Kirov anymore) presents a more modern image. He can't bear to see the company stagnate by living in the past, no matter how glorious. “Do we need two versions of Sleeping Beauty, two Bayadères?” he asks, thus dismissing in a single question two of the most important reconstructions under Vaziev's directorship. “We have wonderful tours, wonderful stars, we dance Swan Lake 100 times, Bayadère 50 times, we are sold out in London, sold out in St Petersburg. But without new work something is missing.

“We cannot kill our tradition, that's for sure,” he adds. “And that tradition will be kept in good shape by our dancers, who have to excel in the traditional repertoire. But it they are also good in Forsythe, so much the better.” Forsythe's ballets, with their fizzing, off-kilter dynamism, have given the company a taste of contemporary chic. Equally important, though, is the Mariinsky's embrace of George Balanchine, the Russian expat who founded New York City Ballet and whose sleek neo-classical creations transformed ballet in the 20th century. “Balanchine suits this company so well,” Gergiev says. “We understand what he was trying to say with his choreography because he was a child of our tradition and never broke with it.”

As for Ratmansky, suddenly the world's hottest choreographer, Gergiev is quick to point out that he was there first. “I invited Ratmansky to the Mariinsky 11 years ago. No one knew him in those days but people I trusted told me that he was an interesting and cultured man.” Middle Duet, set to music by the Russian composer Yuri Khanon, was made for the Kirov in 1998 and will be seen again in London.

Gergiev himself is scheduled to conduct Balanchine's Apollo and The Prodigal Son on October 15, though he still cringes when he remembers the first ballet he conducted in St Petersburg. It was Romeo and Juliet; he was just 24, and unknown. “The performance was very bad because it had nothing to do with the tempos Prokofiev wrote,” Gergiev says. “The natural flow of music is where the conductor has the highest responsibility and this is not always what dancers want. It took me one day to become well-known because everyone was asking: who is this conductor who didn't wait for the dancers?”

The Mariinsky Ballet opens at Sadler's Wells, EC1 (0844 4124300), next Monday

Olesia Novikova brings a time-defying balance and a playful spirit to her portrayal of Kitri. "Don Quixote" is the working-class, comedic love story of Kitri, daughter of an innkeeper, and Basil the barber -- as well as an excuse for two hours and 40 minutes of bravura solos, pseudo-folk dances, cape twirling and more.
(Gary Friedman / Los Angeles Times)

Kirov's 'Don Quixote' is very old school



Review: Celebrated Russian company exemplifies ballet tradition in all its glory, excesses and foibles.
By PAUL HODGINS

More than a century ago, legendary dancer-choreographer Michel Fokine complained that the Kirov Ballet had become a company that was all about show-off-y steps and technical prowess at the expense of story and tastefulness.

Little has changed in 100 years. But many in the appreciative audience Tuesday at the Orange County Performing Arts Center would probably respond, "So what?" Great ballet has forever been an uneasy push-pull between story-telling and star power, the precision of the corps vs. the exuberant individuality of the soloist, and no company understands that better than Russia's 300-year-old name brand.

It's easy to pick out the flaws in the Kirov's "Don Quixote," which is being presented this week at the Center, along with "Giselle" ("Don Q" continues until Thursday with different soloists each night; "Giselle" runs Friday through Sunday).

Based on Alexander Gorsky's 1902 choreography (modeled after Marius Petipa's 1869 original), the Kirov's current incarnation of "Don Q" contains enough cheese and corner-cutting to make the naysayers roll their eyes.

The sets of this three-act monster can look slapdash and wobbly (although the forest scene surrounding the gypsy camp in Act 2 elicited some gasps from the audience). The ballet company's orchestra, led by conductor Mikhail Sinkevich, often blurred the details of Ludwig Minkus' score. Solos are marred by too many "look at me!" moments and a fetishistic obsession (from both sides of the footlights) with pyrotechnic feats. Character roles often cross the border into cartoon land.

But those who get hung up on such issues miss the point. This is old school ballet in all its glorious excesses and imperfections. Altering its traditions would transform it into something unrecognizable.

Russian companies like the Kirov practically invented the mannerisms and vocabulary of character dance. When Vladimir Ponomarev's Don Quixote tilts his head skyward and suspends his arms as if in a trance, you know you're seeing the role as it was originally designed. This silly old knight errant really believes in his dreams, gliding through life as if living inside them.

The same attention to detail can be found in other character roles. Stanislav Burov's ridiculously pot-bellied Sancho Panza is perfectly observed, down to his tiniest belly slap. Soslan Kulaev is wonderful as the preening Gamache, a rich fop who lusts after young Kitri, the daughter of a social-climbing Barcelona tavern owner, but doesn't have a sliver of a chance of landing her. Playing Kitri's father Lorenzo, Nikolay Naumov is the picture of the protective parent as he dramatically places himself between Kitri and her lover, Basil, a lowly barber.

Despite all this talent lavished on supporting characters, the Kirov knows that its fans pay top dollar to see brilliant soloists push their technique to the limits, story be darned. "Don Q" won't leave them disappointed.

Tuesday's cast was full of talent; remarkably, the men often overshadowed the women.

Leonid Sarafanov is one of the Kirov's most spectacular stars. Small of stature and brimming with dynamism, he's also got a playful, conspiratorial air about him. That quality is especially useful when his character pretends to kill himself in order to trick Lorenzo into blessing Basil's love for Kitri. It's a moment of pure ham, but Sarafanov delights in the silliness of it, smiling at us as if we're part of the flim-flam.

Sarafanov's technical mastery – double tours en l'air, endless pirouettes, daunting grand jetés – are made more jaw-dropping by his falling-off-a-log delivery. He makes everything look easy.

In a smaller but no less showy role, Konstantin Zverev made the most of his many solo turns as Espada, a proud toreador. Zverev is a head taller than Sarafanov, and with his long legs and remarkable presence he's the kind of dancer who can turn even a slow stride across the stage into an event.

Olesia Novikov brought elegance and seamless technique to Kitri (her astounding développé probably prompted many ballet students in the crowd to give up dancing right then and there), though many among Tuesday's audience were undoubtedly curious about how the Kirov's most buzzed-about ballerina, Diana Vishneva, would handle the role on Wednesday. As an actress, Novikov can be perfunctory at times.

Among the many superb female supporting roles, Yulia Slivkina, with her sinuous arm movements and superb skills of isolation and control, stood out as the Oriental dancer (it's a completely superfluous number, like so many late-in-the-game solos in old story ballets). You'll remember her more than the Dryads in Act 2, who are unfortunately trapped in the most choreographically uninspired part of the ballet.

Russian ballet never comes cheap (tickets for the Kirov top out at $115) but even in these tough times, it's worth the sacrifice to see this company. Its repertoire offers a direct connection to a centuries-old tradition – something increasingly rare in our future-focused world. And you'll always remember the smile on Sarafanov's face as he casually defies physics.

'Don Quixote' at Orange County Performing Arts Center


Gary Friedman, Los Angeles Times
ONE TO WATCH: Ekaterina Kondaurova, who showed off special qualities, with Vladimir Ponomarev as Don Quixote.

The Kirov Ballet leaps wholeheartedly into its production.
By Laura Bleiberg, Special to The Times
October 9, 2008

You could say that among the surviving 19th century ballets, "Don Quixote" is the Rodney Dangerfield.

It doesn't get much respect. It wears its lowbrow intentions a mite too proudly. It sprawls from the clownish antics of Sancho Panza stealing oversized fish to lovingly rendered moments of classical structure. But let's face it: "Don Q" is about keeping the audience entertained, and high art is often perceived as tainted when it entertains.

The Kirov Ballet, not surprisingly, approaches it with no such hang-ups. The company opened its latest engagement at the Orange County Performing Arts Center on Tuesday, with the Kirov Orchestra in the pit, and leapt wholeheartedly into its 1902 production, with choreography by Alexander Gorsky after Marius Petipa.

Based on a dash of Miguel Cervantes, "Don Quixote" is the working-class, comedic love story of Kitri, the daughter of an innkeeper, and Basil the barber. The tale is an excuse for two hours and 40 minutes of bravura solos, pseudo-folk dances, cape twirling, castanets, a real horse and a mule, plus perfectly symmetrical lines of fair maidens in pastel tutus. The icing is a kitschy solo, added years later to the Kirov version, that's straight from "The Arabian Nights." Yulia Slivkina nonetheless waved her arms superbly and conjured up magic.

In fact, the entire company threw itself into the ballet's multiple personalities with sincere spirit, technical amplitude and a pleasing musicality. It managed to convince even the most cynical observer that such folderol has a significant place in an iPod world.

Like any good epic, "Don Quixote" has a cast that feels like thousands (about 100 dancers are camped in Costa Mesa), and the audience was treated to quite a few soloists in a single evening.

The frisky main couple were portrayed by Olesia Novikov and Leonid Sarafanov, who started off crisply energetic. Novikov is petite, with pale skin, dark hair and a delicate face that recalled the young Geraldine Chaplin. Her arsenal included a time-defying balance and a playful spirit. The second time Sarafanov lifted her overhead, she clapped her tambourine onto her sky-high foot.

As the ballet went on, though, and its devilish tasks multiplied, her portrayal became more restrained, less free. By the time we got to what should have been the ballet's peak, the grand pas de deux, both Novikov and Sarafanov performed cleanly but eschewed risks, opting for less flashy options in their variations.

The boyish Sarafanov danced with fully sculpted, outsized shapes, making his compact body appear bigger. He was the more spontaneous and ardent of the pair; none of Basil's herculean tasks fazed him, even those one-armed overhead lifts. His wondrous control was an asset for finishing turns neatly but became a hindrance when genuine passion was wanted.

Ekaterina Kondaurova was the night's genuine and pleasant surprise. This first soloist, with neon red hair, appeared as the sexy Street Dancer in the first act, as the serene Lady Dryad in the second and in a brief third-act variation. Each role showed off some special quality and an instinctive timing. One admired her highly arched feet. It wasn't just the lovely line of her poses or the high kicks that grabbed the eye but Kondaurova's investing her own personality into familiar assignments. She is one to watch.

Among the other soloists, Gypsy dancers Alisa Sokolova and Mikhail Berdichevsky emoted lustily. Elena Bazhenova, in the cameo role of Mercedes, tantalized with her deep backbends and lusciously rippling arms. Valeria Martynuk made a perky Cupid but slipped up with her toe work.

The character parts were played large and outlandish -- or maybe that was just the makeup. I counted three fake noses, but there could have been more. As in other productions, the errant knight of the title sleepwalked through the onstage chaos. Vladimir Ponomarev at least invested the fellow with some dignity.

Among the sets (originals by Alexander Golovin and Konstantin Korovin, restored by Mikhail Shishlianikov), the first act's was particularly handsome, with romantic sailing ships on the backdrop.

The Kirov Orchestra raised the production's enlarged Ludwig Minkus score to a high level, playing with satisfying smoothness and depth. Unfortunately, conductor Mikhail Sinkevich pushed the pace in the first act to the breaking point -- which may explain why Novikov ran out of steam. It can be a good thing when a conductor shaves some minutes off a three-hour ballet. But this is the Kirov, and there was no need to rush.

Kirov Ballet, Segerstrom Hall, Orange County Performing Arts Center, 600 Town Center Drive, Costa Mesa. 7:30 tonight ("Don Quixote") and 7:30 p.m. Friday, 2 and 7:30 p.m. Saturday and 2 p.m. Sunday ("Giselle"). $25-$115. (714) 556-2787 or

Kirov Ballet's Diana Vishneva in 'Giselle'

Fellow artists Andrian Fadeev and Dmitry Pykhachev match her prowess and create a vivid love triangle.

By Laura Bleiberg, Special to The Times
October 13, 2008



It was a mere eight months ago that Kirov ballerina Diana Vishneva was the centerpiece of the ambitious "Beauty in Motion," a Vishneva-and-friends show of three new works commissioned by the Orange County Performing Arts Center.

Sadly, that effort diminished her unique qualities rather than spotlighting them and left many fans testy and dissatisfied.

There were no such feelings Friday, when Vishneva was back at the Costa Mesa arts center leading the Kirov Ballet of the Mariinsky Theatre in a classical work that has become her signature.

As the doomed heroine of "Giselle," Vishneva demonstrated her extraordinary gifts in a way no contemporary project is ever likely to showcase them.

Hers was an intuitive and highly dramatic performance, and not mistake-free. She has just returned to the stage after an injury, and at some points she was at less than full physical strength.

She bobbled a few hops on toe (pointe slippers too soft and broken, it appeared) and balked during a risky overhead lift. More unusual, she fell behind the music in the slow pas de deux of Act 2, despite a made-to-order Albrecht, principal dancer Andrian Fadeev.

These mishaps, however, failed to detract from an otherwise magical and risk-taking portrayal. Indeed, Vishneva seemed to push her performance to further extremes as the night went on.

The Kirov's production is traditional and familiar, yet Vishneva -- and Fadeev too -- gave the impression of making up the steps on the spot, so convincing was their spontaneity and melding of physical and emotional expressiveness.

From her first sunny appearance in a pale pink dress, Vishneva's Giselle foretold a fragile destiny. She single-mindedly responded to Fadeev's attentiveness, emphasizing Giselle's lovesickness. When Albrecht's fiancée (Elena Bashenova) appeared and his deceit was revealed, Vishneva's body collapsed not in a melodramatic mad scene but in a scary and unpredictable one.

In the second act, Vishneva's spirit and body looked broken, and she emphasized this with an unflattering angularity. With Albrecht holding her, though, she extended her liquid-like limbs in a gravity-defying line. Her unpredictability was riveting.

Happily, Vishneva's fellow artists matched her commitment and prowess. Fadeev's aristocrat was used to getting his way but was also as smitten with Giselle as she was with him.

Like Vishneva, he displayed a bold technical clarity, but not used for its own sake. With the exception of that one off-kilter lift, he enabled Vishneva to take chances, and he responded in kind.

He was well matched by Dmitry Pykhachev as Albrecht's rival, Hans (a character normally named Hilarion). Pykhachev is a sleek, elegant danseur, not the rough-hewn fellow that Hans is in other productions.

He is customarily a simple hunter who drops a rabbit at Giselle's doorstep. Here, he brought flowers as a courting gift. Pykhachev made the class rivalry with Albrecht real, and the performance was stronger for having such a vivid love triangle.

It was a more fitful night for the corps de ballet, which was alternately breathtaking and flat-footed. An overemphasized downbeat in the arabesque hops made these slim ladies clump across the stage.

Ekaterina Kondaurova was the imperious but highly feminine Myrtha, queen of the Wilis. She conjured the impression of a floating ghost with the tiniest of bourrée steps on toe. Every time she raised her arms overhead, the perfect oval she formed framed her face like a cameo.

Elena Sheshina and Philip Stepin fumbled their way through the first act peasant pas de deux in a below-par performance. They managed to eke out the bravura steps but with great effort and fear written across their faces.

The production (with sets by Igor Ivanov) was serviceable, its costumes (by Irina Press) merely plain. The company has abbreviated the mime sequences and gestures, leaving out some key information about the risks of dying with a broken heart.

Still, there was no misreading Vishneva or her fellow principals. Their artistry was universal.

Vishneva makes Kirov's 'Giselle' memorable

The Russian superstar puts her unique stamp on the role at the Center on Friday.

By PAUL HODGINS
The Orange County Register



Tuesday was boys' night for the Kirov. Friday belonged to the women.

"Don Quixote," the first of two romantic ballets being presented this week by the venerable Russian company at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, was a wonderful vehicle for the Kirov's male sensations. Leonid Sarafanov dazzled as Basil; so did Konstantin Zverev in the role of Espada, the proud toreador.

On Friday the Kirov changed programs, from "Don Q" to "Giselle" – a ballet with one of the most revered and challenging female roles in the repertoire. Once again, audiences were wowed by a mega-talent: 32-year-old Diana Vishneva.

Giselle is a signature role for the petite, dark-haired dancer, and she performs it like nobody else. Vishneva's unique gifts bring new insights to Giselle – even those who have seen the tragic country girl played dozens of times were undoubtedly surprised by Vishneva's thoughtful and seamlessly virtuosic interpretation on Friday.

Like many of the greatest ballerinas, Vishneva is also an accomplished and daring actress.

We first see Giselle when she appears at the door of her family's rustic home. Vishneva captures her character with a few deft details that involve subtleties of timing and facial expression as well as movement: we immediately see that her Giselle is shy yet ardent, giddy with the flush of first love. Her handsome suitor, Loys, was played on Friday with a surfeit of boyish innocence, but little else, by Andrian Fadeev. (He's obviously not a fan of the "haughty hot-head" approach exemplified by Nureyev and Malakhov.)

Loys isn't what he seems – he's actually noble Count Albrecht, betrothed to the Duke's daughter and two-timing her with this gullible girl, all the while disguised as a fellow commoner.

Though she initially refuses to believe the evidence presented by Hans, another admirer, about Loys' true identity, Giselle is soon forced to accept her lover's deceit. She goes mad, then dies. ("Giselle" dates from 1841, when madness was a popular affliction in Romantic art, so you have to approach the story with a healthy suspension of disbelief.)

But before she goes, Giselle rapidly re-enacts the history of her relationship with Loys/Albrecht, down to a small scene involving a daisy and the timeless "loves me/loves me not" game. This moment reveals the essence of Vishneva's art. Her Giselle is feverish, hallucinatory, on the edge of flying apart, yet every fluttering movement is pregnant with meaning and relates to the story we've just seen. It's breathtakingly poignant.

In the second act, Albrecht drags his guilt to Giselle's grave, where he's set upon by the vengeful ghost Myrtha and her minions, the Wilis (they're the ticked-off spirits of young women who were betrayed by their lovers and expired just before their wedding day – in other words, very bad news for Albrecht).

Ekaterina Kondaurova brings a regal and beautifully controlled quality to Myrtha, a role that can often seem like an Amazon run amok. The Kirov unleashes the impressive precision of its corps de ballet as Myrtha and the Wilis flex their supernatural muscles. And Fadeev gets to display his considerable technical talents in this scene, when the Wilis try their best to dance Albrecht to death (he's saved by the spirit of Giselle, who realizes Albrecht's love for her was genuine and forgives him).

Even here, though, the ballet belongs to Vishneva. She shows a quality that's rare in Russian dancers: her dazzling technique is placed in the service of character.

Her technical skills, needless to say, are jaw-dropping: sumptuously slow arabesques, impossibly crisp pas de bourrée, gorgeous port de bras that emphasizes her long, sensuous arms, elegant partnering with Fadeev (marred on his part by an insecure lift or two).

But there's none of that "look at my wonderful technique" business that can undermine many Kirov performances (indeed, such showmanship brings some ballets to a standstill in an orgy of applause). "Giselle" is all about story and character, and Vishneva never loses sight of that.

"Giselle" is better executed than "Don Q." The ballet's orchestra sounds cleaner and better rehearsed, though there are still some moments of questionable intonation. The sets look more elaborate and fully realized. You get the thrill of seeing "Giselle" danced by the company for which Marius Petipa perfected the choreography (he reportedly was still tinkering with his 1884 version in advance of Anna Pavlova's 1903 debut, only a few years before his death).

But that's all icing on the cake. The reason to go on Friday was to see a great ballerina interpret a daunting and rewarding role. Saturday and Sunday, you'll undoubtedly get an entertaining production, but you won't get Vishneva. Friday marked her only appearance as Giselle.

Yuri Fateev: keeper of the Kirov flame

The eyes of the world of dance are on the great St Petersburg company and its new ballet director, Yuri Fateev. He talks to Ismene Brown



A beautiful dark young woman of lissome build is dancing in the studio at the Kirov in St Petersburg, practising over and over passages of Giselle. Although Diana Vishneva is a world-famous ballerina and she has danced this role dozens of times since she was a teenager, every day she must go on trying to perfect every nuance of shape, timing and expressiveness in each and every step.

This ceaseless, inquiring repetition of an exquisite tradition is what the Kirov Ballet stands for, and it puts this company above all under scrutiny when it looks ahead for new things to dance. Because of that, the change of directorship this year took on immense significance.

On the one hand, all other companies worldwide refer to the Kirov as they define and refine the classical ballet style. On the other, it can't just be a museum, and while its Moscow counterpart the Bolshoi has been reinventing itself dynamically under Alexei Ratmansky - and taking over from the Kirov as London's most regularly visiting Russian company - in St Petersburg things have looked uncertain.

For more than a decade, the Mariinsky Theatre's omnipotent music and general director Valery Gergiev has been voicing his dissatisfaction with his ballet director, Makhar Vaziev, but when he finally realised that he could not get the Bolshoi's Ratmansky in as artistic director, he decided on a different approach.

Rather than pick one of his Mariinsky stars such as Uliana Lopatkina and Igor Zelensky, both with directorial ambitions, Gergiev made a choice that left him - controversially - still directing the ballet's artistic policy, but brought these valued stars strongly into a future equation.

By appointing the discreet and highly effective balletmaster Yuri Fateev as "ballet director", Gergiev has a man who is a friend and collaborator with Lopatkina and Zelensky, and a man of little personal ego. He is also - which is more significant for the time being - an ace in ensuring that the great ballets of that 20th-century genius George Balanchine can be brought in large numbers to the theatre where he trained and whose Imperial classical style was his creative material through his long American career.

Fateev is much trusted by the Balanchine guardians, and it would be a fabulous aesthetic justice if the two greatest choreographers of the 19th and 20th centuries, Petipa and Balanchine, were reunited at their home theatre.

Now 44, Fateev is the perfect insider. He was born, bred and trained in Leningrad, and spent his career in the Kirov acclaimed for his acrobatic flourish in jester roles. However, he was also, behind the scenes, a clever and clear thinker, brought by Gergiev on to a dancers' advisory council in the mid-Nineties when the artistic directorship of Oleg Vinogradov was collapsing in financial scandals, poor morale and mass dancer exits.

"Yes, Mr Gergiev gives me the path, but he has many interesting ideas," Fateev stated firmly when we met a fortnight ago for his first British interview. The company's Sadler's Wells visit this week displays Gergiev and Fateev's common interest in new repertoire, in Balanchine, Forsythe and Ratmansky.

"I and the dancers are moving in the same direction," he says. Russia "is an open country now, and it's very important to keep the traditional style, but also to move forward and learn many good things from the West."

Fighting talk, considering how Ratmansky's Western aesthetic and anti-politics outlook turned out to be weapons for his enemies in the old Soviet guard.

St Petersburg, though, is Russia's historical Western capital, Fateev says happily. "The Bolshoi is like a huge ship that goes one Soviet way for many decades, and Ratmansky tried to steer this ship a little towards Europe. But for the Kirov it's much easier. We don't have so much pressure for 'Soviet' ballets - well, we do have them, but through Soviet times people tried above all to keep the St Petersburg tradition right."

It was his predecessor Vaziev who put Fateev in sole charge of coaching Balanchine, realising that the older coaches who did not understand his special demands had to be fended off. That's going well, with the co-operation of great stars such as Igor Zelensky, a major Balanchine interpreter, who is dancing Apollo on Wednesday under Gergiev's baton - a fabulous prospect.

But to Fateev will fall something specialised and trickier, outside Gergiev's area, which is the task of maintaining the template of pure classicism, of producing the best Swan Lake, the best Bayadère.

Fateev is not, to my deep regret, a fan of the reconstructions of 19th-century period performance. "Their time has gone," he says firmly. "But St Petersburg is where we will always hold to the academic style, the organic harmony of the body, legs, arms, head, eyes. In our school, from the first baby steps, the teachers ask from the kids the complete academic approach, the head and the eyes moving with the hands, the perfect positions, the plastique."

But, I say, what about the fact that the Kirov keeps throwing up dancers of extreme flexibility who distort classical line - 20 years ago it was Yulia Makhalina, then Svetlana Zakharova, and now Alina Somova is the latest hyper-bendy Kirov ballerina dismaying purists.

Fateev is at ease with such variations. His approach appears to be accommodating but not lax, given that he wants (supported strongly by Gergiev) to lure the iconic Kirov classicist Irina Kolpakova back as coach from America to re-establish shapes and lines. For well over a century, St Petersburg has regularly produced physically amazing dancers, the ones who redefine the "look", from Anna Pavlova and Olga Spessivtseva on, and Fateev adores Zakharova.

If dancers can do it, they should, he thinks - as long as it fits "the artist's vision and the choreographer's vision". So when Christopher Wheeldon comes to watch the company next month and to talk about creating something, when Alexei Ratmansky comes over next spring to create an ambitious full-length ballet, The Little Hump-backed Horse, and if eventually Wayne McGregor gets his return invitation for the work that he was supposed to make in 2000, Fateev aims to show that the Mariinsky contains dancers of the highest cosmopolitan skills and classical beauty anywhere in the world.

"I have the big privilege that Mr Gergiev put into my hands a company of nearly 200 dancers and a special tradition," he says. "I'm a little bit scared sometimes, because this is a huge duty. I will try to work hard on it, and not make mistakes so that I won't break anything, but I can help this company grow."

Forsythe sagging in Sadler's Wells
By Sarah Frater, Evening Standard 14.10.08

When the Mariinsky has come to London, it has mostly visited the Opera House. The company, formerly the Kirov, is very big and very grand and fits right in with the red plush of Covent Garden. There were a few ruffled feathers when it announced it was dancing at Sadler’s Wells for the first time but only until we heard it was with two new-ish mixed bills by William Forsythe and George Balanchine rather than a Swan Lake or Sleeping Beauty.

I say new-ish, because the Mariinsky has been dancing Forsythe and Balanchine for a couple of years, not least at the Opera House in 2005. It is true that they discovered them later than most but we overlook this as their dancers are so good.

But the Mariinsky’s first new-ish mixed bill devoted to William Forsythe was disappointing. People think the American dance-maker is easy, just an exaggerated ballet class, with lots of forced-back arms and high-kicking legs. His drastic classicism is, of course, very difficult, not only the steps but also their stealthy, almost vulpine quality. A Forsythe ballet like In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated should remind you of pack animals, and leave you slightly hunted.

Little of this came across from the Mariinsky. The reason is that most of the dancers on this visit are relatively junior (soloists and corps, rather than principals), and don’t have the technique or sophistication a Forsythe ballet needs. In the Middle, for example, was created for the French über-ballerina Sylvie Guillem whose technique and sophistication could crush porphyry.

Also faring badly was The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude, which looked wooly and harried at the same time. Steptext was better, and Approximate Sonata came closer to the excitement of seeing the Mariinsky dance it at the Opera House a couple of years ago.

This mixed bill is the first in the Sadler’s Wells Forsythe season-long retrospective. Hopefully the rest will better convey the choreographer’s importance.

Mariinsky Ballet - Programme 1

Published Tuesday 14 October 2008 at 17:55 by Gavin Roebuck

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The Mariinsky (Kirov) Ballet appear for the first time at Sadler’s Wells. Programme 1 shows four works by post-modernist choreographer William Forsythe. In Steptext to a repeatedly interrupted recording by the violinist Nathan Milstein of a Chaconne by JS Bach the dancers, three men and one female, perform a series of movements dislocated from the traditional structure of a theatrical representation.

Ekaterina Kondaurova is excellent in showing the dramatic attitude and confrontation this work demands. Approximate Sonata is a series of four powerful pas de deux, which were of course superbly executed. The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude to a recording of Schubert - these dancers deserve a live orchestra - is a pastiche of modern classical ballet. As Forsythe has little classical vocabulary, his parody is generalised and dull superficially, made exciting by its challenging speed.

Closing the programme was In The Middle Somewhat Elevated, with its abrasive rhythms and aggressive spiky style well performed by the nine dancers.

Seeing the world’s superlative classical dancers perform these works from the eighties for the first time some years ago had the shock of the new, was interesting and showed the company was not just a museum. Seeing them now one can have an admiration for their athletic abilities which would win them gold at the Olympics. Rather than continuing to perform these gymnastics with little soul, the new ballet director of the Mariinsky Yuri Fateyev would make his mark if he was able to be forward-looking enough to develop its own choreographers.

Production information

Management:
Mariinsky (Kirov) Ballet
Cast:
Ekaterina Kondaurova, Irina Golub, Olesya Novikova, Elena Sheshina, Mikhail Lobukhin, Alexander Sergeyev, Andrey Ivanov, Ryu Ji Yeon, Islom Baimuradov, Anastasia Petushkova, Anton Pimonov, Ksenia Dubrovina, Alexey Nedviga, Elena Androsova, Nadezhda Gonchar, Evgenya Obraztsova, Vladimir Shklyarov, Maksim Zyuzin, Anton Pimonov
Choreography:
William Forsythe