The Kirov Ballet
The June visit by the Kirov Ballet of St. Petersburg to the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC, brought widely dissimilar programs. The company opened with an evening of modern works by William Forsythe, the American choreographer based in Europe who directed Ballett Frankfurt and now heads his own Forsythe Company. The only other ballet was Giselle. With this daring contrast, the Kirov made a largely successful attempt to show its versatility and virtuosity.
Forsythe’s choreography is post-Balanchine—supple, gymnastic, fast and challenging, with interesting arm movements. The Kirov dancers never seemed at a loss for technical power; but Forsythe’s choreography is extremely repetitious—an entire evening is too much. The more interesting ballets were Steptext, to fractured Bach, and the well-known In the middle, somewhat elevated, to a fascinating if noisy modern score. This work could withstand multiple viewings, but the others might not, especially The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude performed to the finale of Schubert’s Ninth Symphony.
The movements in Vertiginous seemed agitated, even frenzied, and unsuited to women in tutus. These tutus were unattractive, flat disks resembling wide hat brims, in a trying shade of chartreuse. It seemed like an unnecessary mannerism for the dancers to appear bare-legged.
Forsythe’s style demands an air of detachment, which the dancers maintained, although occasionally one of the men would indicate with a slight smile of satisfaction that he felt he had performed well. Two of the women, however, were so gifted that their eloquent bodies expressed more than athleticism. Ekaterina Patina, a handsome brunette with a luscious attack, vitalized the otherwise uninteresting Approximate Sonata, and Ekaterina Kondaurova, not yet billed as a soloist, dominated the excellently performed In the middle, somewhat elevated. A tall redhead, Kondaurova can command a stage standing almost still while others are gyrating in front of her. Her wit and astringency strongly reminded me of the great Balanchine ballerina Tanaquil LeClercq. I long to see Kondaurova in Balanchine.
Giselle offered a total contrast. Valuable pantomime, such as Berthe’s eerie explanation of the Wilis, was missing, so the story seemed muted, but splendid dancing carried it all. The Kirov corps of Wilis was beyond praise. The two Giselles I saw were superlative examples of the Russian tradition at its best. Daria Pavlenko, with her pliant, eloquent back and expressive eyes, reminded me of photos of Spessivtseva. Unfortunately, her Albrecht, handsome Igor Kolb, had very little dramatic sense and did not connect with her. The other Giselle, Olesya Novikova, almost matched Pavlenko in quality and was aided by her impetuous, very young Albrecht, Leonid Sarafanov.
Two lovely Giselles and one excellent Albrecht compensated greatly for some of the dramatic points that were lacking in this most poignant of all ballets.
Judith Judson is a long-time Washington, DC–area ballet teacher, who writes about dance.
