The 'Nutcracker' challenge



What's the biggest challenge for every one of the innumerable North American ballet troupes that stage "The Nutcracker" every year as a way to, let's face it, make as much money as possible? According to a report by Susan Josephs in the Arts & Books section, it's trying to make their version different from all the others.

For example, Los Angeles Ballet, now presenting its third annual "Nutcracker," is proud of the vivid masks worn by the dancers who portray marauding mice in Act 1. Yvonne Mounsey, artistic director of the Westside Ballet Company, likes the glitter that falls slowly as her version ends. And Inland Pacific Ballet says its new tradition is flying in a Paris-based mime to portray Drosselmeyer, the heroine's godfather, who presents her with a nutcracker doll as a Christmas gift.

This year in Los Angeles, the most "authentic" "Nutcracker" is shaping up to be the one offered by Russia's Kirov Ballet at the Music Center. Josephs reports that it strays little from the original 1892 production, created by Marius Petipa for the Russian Imperial Ballet. With a little help from Tchaikovsky, of course.

-- Craig Fisher

Photo: Act 1 of the Kirov Ballet's "Nutcracker." Credit: The Kirov Ballet of the Mariinsky Theatre

The Kirov 'Nutcracker': stuck in its shell
1:56 PM, December 18, 2008



The mighty Kirov Ballet and Orchestra are back at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion with America’s favorite ballet just at the height of “Nutcracker” season.

The 116-year-old holiday classic, renowned for Tchaikovsksy’s masterful score, was created for the St. Petersburg troupe. But America adopted the ballet as its own, and we flock to it with nearly religious purpose every December.

The Kirov, meanwhile, neglected its birthright for decades, restoring the ballet to its repertory just in time for the 1992 “Nutcracker” centennial; it never quite restored the ballet’s soul.

Nearly all the original choreography (by Lev Ivanov) is lost to history. The Kirov performs an unsatisfying three-act version created in 1934 by the late Soviet choreographer Vasily Vainonen. Simon Virsaladze’s sets and costumes, which situate the ballet’s stilted first act in the 18th century and which force the corps de ballet into various unbecoming powdered wigs in every act, date from the 1950s.

This mishmash made its Los Angeles debut during the 100th anniversary mania, and though Vainonen generally followed Marius Petipa’s well-known libretto, the production remains a disjointed affair. Vainonen stayed true to some of Tchaikovsksy’s distinct musical cues and chose to ignore others (no tree lighting, no retelling of how the young heroine, Masha, saves the Nutcracker, and more).

For viewers who are picky about their “Nutcrackers,” this pairing of a beloved classic with the troupe from which it sprang requires unexpected trade-offs for enjoyment.

Foremost among these is a striking difference in tone with American productions, and not just because Masha is danced by a grown woman rather than a girl. Even in its lighter-hearted moments, the Kirov version is a serious-minded ballet — in the same vein as “Swan Lake.”

The production’s long absence did not make it seem any better, and a goodly number of the dancers, who were in Costa Mesa a mere three months ago dancing generally well, looked ragged and effortful at Wednesday’s opening night performance.

Vivacious children from the local Yuri Grigoriev School of Ballet enlivened the first act party scene, imbuing it with needed spontaneity. Principal dancer Evgenia Obraztsova scampered playfully, bringing childlike enthusiasm to the role of Masha.

After the disruptive first intermission (which unfortunately separates the party scene from the Nutcracker’s battle with the Mouse King), the Christmas tree grew, the child-sized toy soldiers defeated the giant mice and the rag doll Nutcracker (Vera Garbuz, wearing a mask) transformed into a flesh-and-blood Prince, the radiantly handsome Vladimir Shklyarov. Voilà — this “Nutcracker” found its purpose and came alive, for a while at least.

The bravura steps of this pas de deux, a joyous embodiment of first love, set Shklyarov and Obraztsova free. He exuded an eager and warm demeanor, bringing out a pleasing clarity in Obraztsova. Shklyarov is the kind of performer who explodes onstage, as though he’s been waiting for this particular moment his whole life. With oversized steps and leaps, his limbs seemed to spread in several directions at once, and the lasting impression he left was of uninhibited joy.

Obraztsova has the expected, pleasing physical attributes of a Kirov principal — finely arched feet, soaring leg extensions and a studied, unshakable poise. She never quite put all that to use as a vehicle for expression, however; for all her loveliness, we know little of the dancer behind the façade.

When they were done, the performance reverted into the fitful patterns of the first half. The engaging geometric patterns of the snow scene were marred by the corps’ flat-footed delivery and faulty rhythm.

The internationally flavored variations were danced with broad smiles and scrupulous care. Mikhal Berdichevsky bounded tirelessly through the Chinese variation’s toe-touching jumps, while Yulia Kasenkova brightly bounded onto her pointe shoes with syncopated timing. Spanish dancers Yulia Slivkina and Sergey Kononenko brought sparkle to this Andalusian-inspired number.

The Russian Trepak, not surprisingly, returned the greatest rewards, with Lira Khuslamova, Natalia Dzevulskaya and Ilya Petrov quick-stepping perfectly.

The Waltz of the Flowers was an unaccountably morose and static scene. The 16 sullen-faced couples had little room to whirl freely, and they tackled their tasks with apparent dread.

The ballet powers onward, directly into the grand pas de deux for Masha and the Prince, given that there is no Sugar Plum Fairy and Cavalier. That’s OK. But Vainonen envisioned an always-floating Masha for this scene, and four danseurs lifted her about — and away from her beloved Prince. Shklyarov didn’t appear frustrated, but this viewer certainly was.

Other standout soloists included Rafael Musin as a vigorous and scary Blackmoor doll and Fyodor Lopukhov as an effervescent Drosselmeyer.

Conductor Pavel Bubelnikov got the Kirov Orchestra off to a brisk and gleaming start. Throughout the evening, he tinkered with the score’s pace and timing, and he allowed the brass instruments to upstage the strings occasionally. All told, though, Tchaikovsky still fared best.
This being opening night, there were various mishaps. A toy gun got stuck in some web-like scenery. Dancers talked too loudly onstage. Shklyarov missed a key jump at the end of his otherwise exciting solo variation. The Kirov Ballet — which will soon begin using its former name, the Mariinsky, in this country — is currently between directors. The below-par evening could have been an off night or a sign of something larger. Only time will tell.

Kirov Ballet, Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., L.A. 7:30 p.m. Thursday and Friday, 2 and 7:30 p.m. Saturday. $30-$120. (213) 365-3500

-- Laura Bleiberg

Photo: Vladimir Shklyarov and Evgenia Obraztsova as the Nutcracker Prince and Masha onstage at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. Credit: Lori Shepler / Los Angeles Times

In a Year’s Worth of Dancers, a Few Stood Out
By GIA KOURLAS
Published: December 19, 2008

IF you’re lucky, you may have witnessed a dancer who shocked the senses. This year the honor went to Sarah Van Patten, a principal with the San Francisco Ballet, who was enthralling in George Balanchine’s “Four Temperaments.” In her pas de deux with Tiit Helimets, performed in October as part of the company’s season at New York City Center, Ms. Van Patten, unguardedly beautiful, used her lean body and jewel-like eyes to elucidate the prickly allegro power in the Sanguinic variation. She stopped time.

Others delivered compelling performances throughout the year, notably Alina Somova, a lithe young dancer with an angular face and a halo of platinum hair who performed with the Kirov in April. Her effortless extensions and individual touches — fouetté turns embellished with darting kicks — were full of juicy aplomb, layering her performances with a blend of glacial grandness and coltish resolve.

At American Ballet Theater in October, Roman Zhurbin, a fascinating character dancer, let the psychological drama of Antony Tudor’s “Jardin aux Lilas” simmer to the surface. Cory Stearns, another Ballet Theater dancer, is a rising leading man, and his May debut as Conrad in “Le Corsaire” was a sign of good things to come. At New York City Ballet the principal dancer Jared Angle showed himself to be more impeccable than ever in both his partnering and his own refined dancing.

As a fading burlesque dancer in Tudor’s “Judgment of Paris” at Ballet Theater, Martine van Hamel — in a raggedy blond wig — brought a special hilarity to her hoop dance. And Leanne Benjamin, appearing with Christopher Wheeldon’s Morphoses in October, furnished the choreography with a daring, scrupulous ferocity.

The same fearless focus could be seen in performances by Jennifer Lacey, a dancer and choreographer now based in Paris, who returned to New York in February for “Scoot,” a mesmerizing solo by Deborah Hay, adapted and performed by Ms. Lacey at Dance Theater Workshop. Pascal Rambert, with his eyes shut, and moving as if underwater, was spellbinding in Rachid Ouramdane’s unerring solo “A standing boy” at Performance Space 122 in October. Equally luminous was Leah Morrison, who brought her natural sensuality to repertory, vintage and new, at the Trisha Brown Dance Company.

But good performances can happen in bad dances too. Last February in Peter Martins’s “Thou Swell,” which reimagines the stage as a 1930s nightclub for City Ballet, Faye Arthurs, dancing opposite Charles Askegard, tore up the stage. She was ravishing.

The Mariinsky, in Fine (but Hollow) Form

By Sarah Kaufman | Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, January 15, 2009


The St. Petersburg company's "Don Quixote" -- with Alina Somova as Kitri in a dress rehearsal
at the Kennedy Center Opera House -- is a technical marvel but doesn't fully engage the audience.
(By Dominic Bracco Ii For The Washington Post)

We've always known it here as the Kirov Ballet, but that name, a Soviet-era holdover, was a sore point for this jewel of Russian culture. And so, with Tuesday's opening at the Kennedy Center Opera House, the St. Petersburg company has officially reintroduced itself to Washington audiences as the Mariinsky Ballet -- its pre-communist name, which it took up again in Russia some years ago.

To go with the legacy moniker, the Mariinsky performed a legacy ballet, "Don Quixote," which it has been dancing for nearly 150 years. No ballet boasts more athleticism, playfulness, virtuosity and sheer guts than this one, and the opening-night cast -- led by the inexhaustible charms of Diana Vishneva as Kitri -- delivered at nearly every level.

Why, then, did the evening feel long? "Don Quixote" is a difficult ballet to put over, not merely because of its technical demands. These were the least of the Mariinsky's challenges; the dancers' mastery of classical technique is conclusive, and a thrill to see. Vishneva, in the role of Barcelona's supreme flirt, was a daunting pace setter. You didn't see a start or finish to her jumps; they simply burst into air, an explosion of legs and chiffon. Time bent to her will throughout the ballet. She flew into leaps and turns at a heart-racing speed -- I have never heard Ludwig Minkus's score played as fast for Kitri's variations as the Opera House Orchestra played it for Vishneva. Yet, as a dancer with keen dramatic instincts as well as superb musicality, she also knew when to stop and capture a moment of utter stillness, her lace fan quiet and her eyes blazing.

Alexandra Iosifidi's street dancer possessed too much glamour and haughtiness for her station -- a fault only if you're looking for dramatic coherence, as I was -- but flashed through the air like a switchblade. Konstantin Zverev's cape-swirling toreador was wonderfully complete: reckless and commanding, with a spine so flexible it was lyrical.

Vishneva's partner, Evgeny Ivanchenko, was of a cooler sort, clean and regal and above it all. His appeal began and ended with his glorious line and firm technique. Did we buy him as Basil the barber, a penniless rascal whom Kitri's father rejects as son-in-law material? Not for a minute.

This is the catch in "Don Quixote." Is it an evening-length suite of gorgeous dances, interrupted here and there by mime and comic relief? Or does the ballet tell a story of young lovers defying parental censure, drawing us into its characters' lives, prompting us to feel what they feel?

The Mariinsky tries to have it both ways, and doesn't succeed fully in either. The ballet feels too long for the dance-suite approach; two intermissions and a lengthy pause break up the momentum. With the high value it places on technique, the company exploits the choreography as a showcase for its technical strengths, but there is little natural interaction among the performers when they are not dancing. Certainly, the production is clean, energetic, fitfully exciting -- but it doesn't pull us into its story.

Vishneva, for all her gifts, did not convince me she loves Basil. I felt no passion from the Gypsy dancers. Vladimir Ponomarev, usually a riveting character dancer, had an air of dusty elegance about him as Don Quixote, but he was not especially sympathetic. The problem here is not with the dancers but with the overall vision of this ballet, and that comes from the top. The Bolshoi Ballet, to name an obvious contrast, makes "Don Quixote" work: There is real heat in that production, authentic characters whose dancing tells us something essential about them. It's been two years since I saw her, but I'll never forget the Bolshoi's Gypsy dancer, who spilled her life's story onto the stage in her solo. I thought a lot about her, in fact, on Tuesday night.

Performances continue through Sunday afternoon, with cast changes.

Tilting at Windmills, but Not at Traditions, in Performance From Maryinsky

By ALASTAIR MACAULAY | Published: January 14, 2009

WASHINGTON — It has been easier for Leningrad to revert to its old name of St. Petersburg than for its main opera house, the Maryinsky, and its opera and ballet companies to shake off, at least abroad, the Soviet-era name of Kirov.

The ballet company in particular became an international legend as the Kirov, with tours and star dancers between the early 1960s and late ’80s. As a consequence both the company and Western audiences have been shy about using the old imperial name. Nonetheless it is as the Maryinsky Ballet that it is appearing at the Kennedy Center this week, and the house has been packed.

The company has a new artistic director, Yuri Fateev, who began work last year. And in this week’s performances, solely of “Don Quixote,” the company is fielding a number of star casts. On Tuesday’s opening night Diana Vishneva — injured for much of 2008 — was in bright, flashing form as the heroine Kitri. The sheer luster of her presence is often startling; I know of no dancer today who so gloriously seems a source of light.

She was partnered by Evgeny Ivanchenko, a tight-faced but handsome-bodied dancer who showed more relaxation and command than he did last year in the company’s three-week City Center season.

The production’s designs are attributed to Alexander Golovin and Konstantin Korovin, the artists who worked on the ballet’s 1902 Maryinsky staging. I like Korovin’s individually patterned skirts for the supporting women, and I love the dappled Impressionist painting in some of the scenery (as realized by Mikhail Shishliannikov).

But there are puzzles here. The Act II Vision scene is so painterly a conception of an autumn glade that it rightly wins a burst of applause on first view; but then the dim, tall, blocklike shadows behind the trees make it start to look, weirdly, as if this were Central Park as painted by Vuillard.

For that 1902 staging Alexander Gorsky overhauled the ballet. It is unclear how much of Marius Petipa’s 1869 original he left, but then it is equally unclear how much remains of Gorsky’s version as well.

In truth, no design can make much difference. The Russian “Don Quixote” — as we know it in any version (many Western companies have added it to their repertories since the 1960s) — is full of Soviet-era accretions. Those who love it would not want them scrapped. To those of us who do not — this is one of the 19th-century ballets I try to avoid unless there is a strong temptation (in this case Ms. Vishneva) — it is hard to guess how it might be cleaned up.

“Don Quixote” is traditional ballet at its most formulaic, and some of its stale formulas are pre-Soviet. There are moments of real melodic and rhythmic delight in Ludwig Minkus’s score (well played by the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra under the baton of Pavel Bubelnikov), but, as with “La Bayadère,” three acts of rum-ti-tum Minkus are at least two more than I can be grateful for.

The famous title character is reduced to a one-dimensional, posey old fool, devoid of nobility or vision. Sancho Panza, along with Gamache and Lorenzo, are more coarsely conceived yet. (And the Maryinsky character actors are very poor.) It would be good just to enjoy the ballet’s emphasis on youth and beauty, but this too becomes trite here.

Films show us that the occasional artist — notably Maya Plisetskaya in Act I, Ekaterina Maximova and Vladimir Vassiliev in Act III — have turned the ballet’s hard-boiled brilliance into something truly thrilling. Tuesday’s “Don Quixote” was actually at least as good as any I have seen (fresher and livelier than the first Kirov performance of the ballet that I attended at the Kirov Theater in 1984). Ms. Vishneva knocked off Kitri’s steps with glamour and flair. But the ballet palls. It is not my mind alone that glazes over in such fare. In Act II the Cleopatra-like Ekaterina Kondaurova (Queen of the Dryads) was, as an artist, more nearly stale than I have ever seen her.

Who can save such artists? It remains questionable whether the Kirov Ballet ever wanted to enter the 20th or 21st centuries. After Ms. Vishneva’s fouetté turns on Tuesday, Mr. Bubelnikov didn’t just pause the coda of the grand pas de deux to allow for her to take a bow. He extended the pause. Eventually Mr. Ivanchenko appeared and slowly, showily walked, in silence, to center stage to start his grande pirouette and to cue the music to start again.

It is almost 50 years since Western dancers first tried to cure the Russians of this crashingly vulgar habit. Tuesday’s evidence is that they still prefer their bad home traditions.

'Quixote's' lance dulls
Mariinsky's wit, creativity only sporadic

Jean Battey Lewis | Thursday, January 15, 2009



Don Quixote" may be the least serious or soul-stirring ballet created by Marius Petipa, choreographer of such marvels as "Swan Lake" and "Sleeping Beauty." Yet, under the right conditions, "Don Quixote" can also be the most fun.

Achieving this requires wit, a great sense of style, and razor-sharp timing. These were only sporadically in evidence Tuesday evening when the Mariinsky Ballet (reverting to its original name after years of calling itself the Kirov) gave the first in a week's performances of "Don Quixote" at the Kennedy Center Opera House.

The evening began on a high note, led by the international star Diana Vishneva, who appears with several companies, most notably the Mariinsky and American Ballet Theatre. She is a dazzling dancer, strong and fleet, and one who attacks space with exciting zest.



After that first display of blazing energy, though, the long, four-act ballet succumbed to a marked unevenness in the company's ranks. There was no chemistry between Miss Vishneva and her partner, Evgeny Ivanchenko, who lacked elegance and - towering above her - was physically ill-matched with the ballerina.

In addition, Miss Vishneva brought little else but technique to a role that can be mischievous, boisterous and fun-loving.

"Great ballerina with phenomenal jumps" was the message she sent, but she is capable of much more. A couple of years ago, she appeared here with ABT in a haunting performance of a scene from the ballet "Manon," dancing as a courtesan carried from one old man to another.

The other starring male role - the vainglorious bullfighter Espada - was given a stylish, matinee-idol performance by Konstantin Zverev.

The production is lavish, with massive sets reincarnated from designs created over a century ago, and, on opening night, that led to some extended delays.

"Don Quixote," the first ballet created by Petipa for the Mariinsky, stands alone for its common-man touch. The hero is a not very successful barber; Kitri is the village flirt. There are no enchanted maidens turned into swans, no beauties to be awakened by a kiss. Perhaps most important, there is not yet any involvement of Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky, who gave Petipa the great scores for "Swan Lake" and "Sleeping Beauty." The razzle-dazzle of Ludwig Minkus' tunes for "Don Quixote"are hardly in that class.

Since its first performances, the ballet has undergone many variations, most notably by Alexander Gorsky, whose version is the one the Mariinsky follows.

New versions set to the Tchaikovsky score have come from, among others, Rudolf Nureyev and Mikhail Baryshnikov, whose fine production for ABT lasted for a decade until he left the company. (The performance is on tape, danced by Gelsey Kirkland and Mr. Baryshnikov.)

Over 40 years ago, George Balanchine created a version to a commissioned score by Nicolas Nabokov that focused the ballet on Don Quixote's spiritual quest. Same title; vastly different approach.

Osmolkina/Part, Royal Opera House/Coliseum, London

By Clement Crisp

Published: March 30 2009 23:40 | Last updated: March 30 2009 23:40

The happiest aspect of the swan-plague currently afflicting us has been the appearances as Odette/Odile by two St Petersburg ballerine. At Covent Garden, the Mariinsky’s Ekaterina Osmolkina has given performances partnered by Ivan Putrov. With American Ballet Theatre, Veronika Part (a Mariinsky artist now resident in the US) appears in that troupe’s manic staging at the Coliseum. Both demonstrated, in different but illuminating ways, the superiority of the Mariinsky understanding of wthis often misunderstood but sacred dance text.



Osmolkina proclaims herself an Odette of rare distinction from her first moment on stage. Her ravishing line – long limbs exquisite in articulation – the nobility of her training, and its stern ardours, have given her an instrument of unfailing expressive grace, a Stradivarius that she plays with a beautiful ease. Her dance-intelligence, the force of Odette’s sorrows purely and potently shown from that first moment, tell of artistry that is sustained by an apostolic succession in St Petersburg, understanding passed from teacher to pupil over a century of performance.

Her style recalls the linear glories of those earlier divinities, Makarova and Osipenko. Like them, Osmolkina sings Odette’s sad melodies with marvellous eloquence. Her Odile is malicious, beguiling, strong in means (and resourceful enough to rescue those damn fouettés from a mishap).

Veronika Part, on Friday night, was linked to another Mariinsky tradition, that of those intense beauties, those black pearls, Asylmuratova and Zubkovskaya, whose interpretations were fired by the intensity of their emotional involvement in a role. Part offers dancing and interpretation of a voluptuous grandeur, Odette’s tragedy saturating movement and pose, Odile’s malevolence an intoxication of the spirit that will dazzle Siegfried utterly. The role is luscious in phrasing, ever expressive, true.

With both these ballerine, Swan Lake became a vivid experience for their public and not (as so often here) a trip to the waxworks. To Ivan Putrov and Marcelo Gomes, their respective Siegfrieds, admiration for both dance and drama. We have been very fortunate. ★★★★★

Beauty in motion
The Mariinsky Ballet Festival presents a program of contrasts and delights.

By Kevin Ng
Special to The St. Petersburg Times

At the opening night of this year’s Mariinsky Ballet Festival last Saturday, the Mariinsky Ballet presented a major world premiere of a full-length ballet, “The Little Humpbacked Horse” by Alexei Ratmansky, the former artistic director of the Bolshoi Ballet who is one of the most sought-after classical choreographers in the world today.



Meanwhile in Moscow last weekend, the Bolshoi Ballet, which Ratmansky directed until last December, premiered the reconstruction of the 19th century classic “Coppelia” by Sergei Vikharev, the Mariinsky ballet master whose reconstruction of several 19th century classics for the Mariinsky Ballet since 1999 have been hugely acclaimed in the West. (Mariinsky Ballet director Yury Fateyev announced in an interview last autumn that Vikharev’s reconstructions won’t be performed at the theater during his tenure, which is an unfortunate and regrettable decision.)

How ironic that the Mariinsky Ballet and the Bolshoi Ballet are now taking leaves from each other’s books.

“The Little Humpbacked Horse” is better crafted than the last full-length ballet Ratmansky created for the Mariinsky Ballet, “Cinderella,” in 2002. Ratmansky could not have wished for better and more danceable music than this rich and sonorous score by the Rodion Shchedrin, who originally composed the work for the Bolshoi in the 1960s. Shchedrin’s wife, the Bolshoi star Maya Plisetskaya, actually danced in the original cast.

Saturday’s premiere, sublimely conducted by maestro Valery Gergiev, was a glittering occasion, with Shchedrin and Plisetskaya seated in the Tsar’s Box in the center of the theater.

On the second night, there were loud ovations for Plisetskaya from the audience at the beginning of the interval. The delighted Plisetskaya greeted her audience briefly with a series of swan-like arm movements.

Ratmansky’s two-act ballet “Humpbacked Horse,” with eight scenes lasting over two hours, is a demi-caractere ballet with a lot of mime but also contains two very pure classical duets in Act II. The libretto, by Maxim Isayev, is based on the fairy tale by Pyotr Yershov. Ivan the Fool is given a little humpbacked horse with magical powers who helps him succeed in performing impossible tasks demanded by a vain and selfish Tsar. Ivan finally marries the Tsar Maiden who is in love with him instead of the Tsar.

This ballet is life-affirming and rich in humanity. Ratmansky’s choreography is masterly, and has a clear form and shape. His narrative is clear, and each scene is of the right length. The final transformation scene of Ivan into a young tsar is effective and witty. The two classical duets are full of heart-warming tenderness. The duets for Ivan and the Humpbacked Horse in Act I are spirited and lively.

The cast on the first night was splendid. Ivan the Fool was excellently danced by Mikhail Lobukhin, who gave the best performance of his career to date. This demi-caractere role suited him perfectly. Lobukhin conveyed very well Ivan’s shyness, generosity of spirit and passion. As the Tsar Maiden, Viktoria Tereshkina had a warm glow in her characterization, on top of her usual dazzling virtuosity which was well showcased in her solos. Ilya Petrov was fresh and breezy as the Humpbacked Horse with his airy jumps and fleet-footedness.

Yury Smekalov, who joined the Mariinsky Ballet from the Eifman Ballet earlier this season, was most outstanding in his portrayal of the evil lord chamberlain of the Tsar. The Tsar himself was superbly played as a buffoon figure by Andrei Ivanov — another perfect role for him after the lead role in Noah Gelber’s ballet “The Overcoat,” created for him in 2006. Yekaterina Kondaurova had grandeur as the Princess of the Sea. The opening night was definitely a triumph.



As Ivan in the second night’s cast, Leonid Sarafanov was more charming and endearing. His powerful virtuosity was absolutely brilliant. His impeccable series of double tours en l’air in his two big solos drew loud ovations. As the Tsar Maiden, Alina Somova emphasized the character’s innocence, and was quite radiant. Grigory Popov was good as the Humpbacked Horse.

The black sets, designed by Maxim Isayev, are rather sparse and Isayev’s costumes are colorful but could have been grander and more elaborate.

As a good contrast to this narrative ballet, the third evening of the festival on Monday featured Mariinsky star Diana Vishneva in her pure-dance show “Beauty in Motion” which was first premiered in New York last year.

The three-part evening opened with “Pierrot Lunaire” also choreographed by Alexei Ratmansky, who is clearly very well represented in this festival. Vishneva danced gracefully with three male dancers representing different aspects of Pierrot’s character. Alexander Sergeyev was creamy and smooth in his dancing and Islom Baimuradov danced with intensity. Ratmansky’s choreography is fluent, but this ballet isn’t on the same level as his new “Humpbacked Horse.”

The middle piece “F.L.O.W.” by American modern dance choreographer Moses Pendleton, the leader of the MOMIX troupe, has three sections. In the first section, Vishneva joins two female colleagues in a show of lighting illusion in which their limbs form various delightful shapes including a heart and a swan. The second section is also visually striking with Vishneva reclined on a tilted mirror, dancing to her reflection with her limbs doubling up. The final section sees Vishneva spinning around in a huge circular headdress — no doubt justifying the show’s title “Beauty in Motion.” It is a striking and theatrical piece, but rather trivial.

The final work, “Three Point Turn” by Dwight Rhoden from the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, is for three couples. The vocabulary of Rhoden’s brutal choreographic style is derived from William Forsythe, whose ballets are in the Mariinsky’s repertory. This ballet, however, sheds no new light on Vishneva’s artistry.

It will be more rewarding to watch Vishneva dance “Giselle” on Saturday with Marcelo Gomes from the American Ballet Theater. The Festival concludes Sunday the usual gala performance featuring international stars. The troupe won’t have much rest before departing early next week for a tour to Taiwan.

The Little Humpbacked Horse

Maya Plisetskaya, one of the legendary ballerinas of her generation attended Mariinsky’s premiere of The Little Humpbacked Horse and the after party. She was so pleased with Alina Somova’s performance of Tsar-Maiden, a role that Maya once danced herself, although in a different production of the ballet, that she removed her earrings and handed them off to the very happy Alina.

Photo: Valentina Baranovskaya