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The Dancer Who Flew, A Memoir of Rudolf
Nureyev, by Linda Maybarduk
Rudolf Nureyev's
Chinchilla Cape
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The Times
Monday, March 29, 1971
John Percival |
The apprentices'
sorcery, Chant du compagnon errant
Forest National, Brussels
romantic songs by Mahler and Maurice Béjart's
iconoclastic choreography would probably make an unstable mixture
anyway. Add a cast comprising only two exceptionally gifted
male dancers appearing together for the first time, and the result
becomes positively explosive. Is it fair to do this to the
"Lieder eines fahrenden Gisellen" as Béjart
has just done for Rudolf Nureyev and Paolo Bortoluzzi in Brussels?
Fair or not, it works.
Taken at face value as the inspiration for a ballet, the words which
Mahler wrote for this song cycle suggest the most conventional of
"boy meets then loses, girl" themes. Béjart
takes more generally the ideas of love and sorrow and the "knife in
the breast" which are the subjects of these poems. His
programme note emphasizes the struggle between self and loneliness,
drawing parallels with medieval apprentices in search of their
destiny and their master, or a romantic student pursued by fate.
Put like this, Nureyev's role is simply another variant on that
suffering traveler through life which he has already played in
ballets by Van Dantzig and Petit. This time, however, the
absence of supporting characters (because Bortoluzzi's role seems
not another person but a shadow or reflection of his own) and of any
specific dramatic content brings a concentrated, almost ferocious
intensity, which I have rarely seen equaled and never surpassed.
Bortoluzzi dogs Nureyev's footsteps in close pursuit.
sometimes he seems to represent the fears or regrets that hold back
the traveler; sometimes the hopes that comfort and give him
strength. A strong dancer and a strong personality, Bortoluzzi
all the same slips completely into the background in this context.
What you watch, solely and with a kind of awe, is how Nureyev
without plot, character, setting or decorative costume, with nothing
but the accompanying songs and the steps, plays on the emotions of
an audience...
As if this tour de force, lasting almost 20 minutes, was not enough,
Nureyev decided almost at the last moment to learn and dance
Béjart's Rite of Spring also. In
this version there are two chosen sacrifices, a boy and a girl, and
as usual in Béjart's ballets the
male role is the more important.
The only objection you could make to Nureyev's performance was that
at the beginning, when he should be unnoticeably one of the group of
young men, he could not help catching the eye by the sharp clarity
of his movements. Once singled out as the victim, his
expression of fear mixed with some pride was uncanny, and he seemed
to inspire the rest of the company to extraordinary efforts too... |
The Times
Monday, July 12th, 1971
John Percival |
Something good from
Buffalo, Les Biches La Sylphide, Philips
Halle, Dusseldorf
"The most famous male dancer in the world," announced the posters
and it did not need the name in big letters to identify the
photograph of Nureyev grinning happily from every hoarding.
And what was he doing on tour in Europe with an American Classical
Ballet of which nobody had previously heard? If you saw their
production of La Sylphide you would no longer need to ask, but
we shall come to that in a moment. The company itself is
actually known in its home town of Buffalo, NY as the Niagara
Frontier Ballet. Most of the dancers are young from the school
which Kathleen Crofton (English, and one of the "Pavlova's girls")
founded there four years ago. They make an attractively
harmonious ensemble with a smooth alert style...
For her company, Miss Crofton has secured ... the collaboration of
Bronislava Nijinska as choreographer...
This makes a fine setting for two outstanding guest performers Miss
Cosi ... is a far better dancer than we could have guessed from her
one appearance so far in London...
Good as she is, Nureyev as James is the undisputed star, in a
blazing performance that illuminates everything around it.
James Reuben is one of the two great classical roles in his
repertory (Basilio in Don Quixote is the other) which,
through oversight or lack of imagination, he has never been asked to
dance in London, except for short extracts, and London has missed a
treat in consequence.
Even while simply sitting asleep in his big armchair at the
beginning, dreaming of the Sylphide, the intensity of his slightest
movement makes it clear how expressive a performance this is going
to be; an impression confirmed as soon as he starts responding
either to the Sylphide's temptations or his fiancées
anxious inquiries.
Then with the first solo, springing into the air with the cleanest,
highest entrechat I have seen for a long time, cutting great
arcs with his grands jetés,
bounding into marvellously strong,
exact tours en l'air in both directions, he shows how well
Bournonville's open, bold-hearted and virile choreography becomes
him.
Simply as a virtuoso display, this would be a staggering
performance, but it is more than that: it is virtuosity used
to create a character, to show the impetuous nature which drives the
hero off to chase his dreams and leads him into the trap where he
loses everything. From this moment on, there is no pause in
the hero's mad and tragic rush to self-destruction. With such
an interpretation at the heart of the ballet, it is no wonder if the
supporting company were overshadowed and much to their credit that
they were never eclipsed. |
Herald Tribune
May 16, 1971
By David Stevens |
Paris, May 13
- Rudolf
Nureyev seems to thrive on work and variety, and his appearance last
night at the well-filled Palais des Sports for the first of a series
of 15 performances of "The Sleeping Beauty" found him in top form,
dancing with untiring power and brilliance and with more than his
share of dramatic conviction.
There is a neat symmetry to his appearance here in this great
classic role a decade after he bolted Leningrad's Kirov Ballet
during its visit to Paris, in June 1961. In the intervening
years he has used his independence to explore many of the frontiers
of the dance world, to develop his inclinations as a choreographer
and to continue to grow in the roles of the classic repertory....
The choreography, "arranged and staged by Rosella Hightower, after
Petipa and Nijinska" probably owes something to the fact that
earlier this season Nureyev revived his own production at La Scala.
In any case, his variations were of such formidable difficulty as
could only have been conceived with him in mind.. |
Dance
and dancers
October 1971
Pages 34 - 35 excerpts
By Peter Williams |
Royal Balance Sheet
The Royal Ballet's 1969/70 season ended on one of the most
triumphant notes of possibly any year since the company has been in
business. In an expression of love, almost unique in ballet
history, the company put on a gala performance of farewell to Sir
Frederick Ashton, a performance which was not only a retrospective
vision of highlights from his creative career but showed the company
at the very pinnacle of its form. The Royal Ballet's 1970/71
season ended on a very different note with Sir Fred's successor,
Kenneth MacMillan, being warned not to take a call as somebody had
heard a rumour that a claque might repeat the hostile demonstration
after Anastasia's first performance...
Meanwhile, back at the Garden, the winter season had continued in
much the same way that winter seasons usually have. Apart from
some performances of MacMillan's Romeo and Juliet, the repertory was
mainly of triple bills. It was not sensational, but then
sensation is rare and not always desirable in an Opera House
situation. The fact that Fonteyn and Nureyev were dancing very
little with the company - she not at all; he only in early
performances of Dances at a Gathering - created a certain lowering
of temperature, though others were getting more opportunity.
the corps de ballet were less good than formerly; the orchestra for
ballet was on the whole pretty bad and it was not apparent that any
particularly interesting new blood was emerging from the school...
When the larger company returned to London in May it found itself in
competition not only with itself (or rather with its smaller section
at Sadler's Wells) but also the first London season of the Robert
Joffrey City Center Ballet at the Coliseum. Such clash of
dates was not the fault of the Royal Ballet since it had already
changed the dates of the Sadler's Wells season so as not to clash
with Ballet Rambert at the Jeannetta Cochrane. Whether it is a
good idea to show the two Royal Ballets together in the same city at
the same time is not so certain, particularly as some of the smaller
company's programmes coincided with Fonteyn and Nureyev performances
as well as a number of interesting cast changes at Covent Garden.
It did mean that there could be a far greater interchange of artists
between the two companies than would have been possible if they had
not been playing in such close proximity. |
17th
December, 1969
Letter fromSir Robert Helpmann
Garden Flat
72 Eaton Square
London S.W.I. |
My dear Rudi,
I am sending you this letter by John Lanchbery. I am not able
to get to Vienna and will have to leave our meeting until you arrive
back. I do not leave for Australia until January 11th
and I understand from Joan that you will be back on the 6th, which
is the date of my performance of Cinderella at Covent Garden.
I should be most grateful if you would explain to Mr. Novotney that
the order of Don Quixote will be changed. It will not affect
him as far as the dances are concerned and Jack has written in some
music for a duel.
I hope, before I leave, that we will have a few moments to discuss
Hamlet. I will mount it on the Company in Australia and you
will learn it a few minutes as you have already done it. Your
costume is there and there is a marvellous boy to make the boots for
you which can be done in 2 days.
I hope all is well with you. I can't tell you the excitement
in Australia about your visit. The houses in Adelaide are
completely sold out and also in Melbourne. I can assure you
that your visit is creating far more interest than Queen Elizabeth.
I am sure she will be grateful that you will have left the country
before she arrives in May. I send you my love, Robert |
International Herald
Tribune
Paris, Monday, November 8, 1971
by Oleg Kerensky |
Nureyev's Exuberant
'Don
Quixote'
Marseilles, Nov. 7
If, as is hoped, Rudolf Nureyev's production of "Don Quixote" goes
to Paris for a Christmas season, the box office should be besieged.
It was worth the trip from London to Marseilles.
It is basically the same version of the 19th-century ballet that
Nureyev made for the Australian Ballet, which toured it a year ago
in the United States. And it is appropriate that the first
European company to stage it should be the one which the American
ballerina Rosella Hightower is building up in Marseilles. for
Marseilles was the home town of Marius Petipa, the
founder-choreographer of the Imperial Russian Ballet, who made "Don
Quixote" in St. Petersburg in 1869. Nureyev's version owes a
great deal to the Petipa he remembers from Russia, but it is Petipa
as Petipa might have staged the ballet today.
Static mime scenes, which bore modern audiences have been almost
eliminated but there is just enough story left to prevent the ballet
becoming a mere series of divertissements. Sir Robert Helpmann
(imaginatively but inaccurately described in the Marseilles program
as "founder of the Royal Ballet" - surprise for Dame Ninette de
Valois and Sir Frederick Ashton) gives his strong dramatic presence
to the Don, providing the necessary link between scenes, attacking a
charming children's pantomime and, of course, the windmills and
ending with a farcical fight with Camacho, presented by Simon
Simenoff as an exaggerated Restoration-comedy fop.
Nevertheless, the ballet is mainly an excuse for a variety of
exuberant and difficult dances.
Demanding Nureyev has given himself, as Basilio the
romantic hero, what must surely be one of the most demanding male
roles. The celebrated "Don Quixote" pas de deux, so often
performed as a concert piece, comes at the end of this three-act
ballet; I lost count of the number of solos and pas de deux which
Nureyev and Lucettte Aldous, his ballerina, performed before it.
I particularly admired his first solo, vaguely based on a Spanish
jota but with far higher jumps and more complicated footwork than
can be expected from fold dancers. How Nureyev has the energy
to stage a production on this scale, teach it to an unfamiliar and
fairly inexperienced company, and dance the leading role (twice on
Sunday) with such humour, vivacity and virtuosity is a mystery.
But few roles have shown him so carefree and exuberant.
He is fortunate in his ballerina. Lucette Aldous's return to
Europe from her native Australia as Kitry in "Don Quixote" leaves no
doubt that she is now a major international star. Her small
figure, speed, balance, joie de vivre and dazzling technique suggest
comparisons with the Bolshoi's Maximova or even with the celebrated
Lepeshinskaya. She has a delightful cheeky personality of her
own, yet dances the classical dryad interlude with impeccable pure
style.
Marina Gielgud, en route from Bejart's company in Brussels to the
ballet in West Berlin, gives strong support in the second ballerina
role (she dances Kitry at one performance) and so do Eileen Jones, a
charming young American dancer, as Cupid, and Denys Ganio, as the
toreador. but the whole of Miss Hightower's company enters
into the various gypsy, Spanish and classical divertissements with
dash and enthusiasm and with a convincing show of the right grand
manner... |
The Times
Monday, Nov. 22, 1971
John Percival |
Field Figures
- Covent
Garden
For Rudolf Nureyev to dance Field Figures at Covent Garden on
Saturday was rather like an actor tackling his first Pinter.
Glen Tetley's choreography, like Pinter's writing, uses traditional
materials in a new way, adds some entirely novel elements and makes
points by what it leaves out as well as what it puts in.
Another similarity is that playwright and choreographer both need
complete trust from their performers to do things absolutely as set
but still gain a lot from old-fashioned star qualities of
personality and projection. Created on a dancer (Desmond
Kelly) whose best qualities are very different from Nureyev's, this
role gets right away from the prototype of most of those made
specially for Nureyev. Although the ballet has no pilot it
contains dramatic situations, solos and confrontations within an
abstract collage. If these had been resolved into a narrative,
I think (and this is only a personal interpretation), it would be
about a couple going through a crisis in their life together.
... Nureyev takes his part as if it had been made for him. Not
that he does the steps, in total, any better than Kelly, although
there were certain moments (a breathtaking sideways-twisting leap,
for instance) when he gave his own astonishing clarity to the
movement. Nor does he have the most obviously brilliant
dancing to do; this goes to Nicholas Johnson, as the younger figure
who is either an ideal or a rival, and he, as did all the rest of
the cast, danced like people inspired. Nureyev does however,
catch perfectly the essential point of the role, the sense of
guarding an established relationship against a threat whether from
outside influence or its own internal stresses. He brings out
more strongly than before a kind of animal imagery, implicit in the
movement and in Nadine Baylis's enclosing decor, which expresses the
human content in terms of guarding territory. Also, he
projects this with all the force of his own dominating personality,
giving a satisfying impact to a rewarding but by no means
ingratiating ballet. |
The Guardian
Dec. 4, 1971
Philip Hope-Wallace |
A Nureyev night at the
Garden is now what a Melba night must have been for our
grandparents. Just as it was said you didn't want Melba
signing "Comin' thru' the rye" when she could sing "Bel raggio", so,
with all respect to modern choreographers, it is in the grand
classical-romantic Tchaikovsky roles, the noble bravura prince
parts, that one wishes to see the flying Russian. This is a
very well trimmed "Lac," with almost all of Frederick Ashton's
emendations and additions sheer gain, though one has to wait until
act three for the real earth shakers and even if Mr. Nureyev was not
flying his highest this time, his assurance and as it were hidden
strength, to say nothing of the unforced impact of the
characterization are most impressive... |
Daily Telegraph
Dec. 15, 1971
Fernau Hall |
Magnificence of Nureyev &
Merle Park
The plans made for the gala performance by Royal Ballet at Covent
Garden last night went somewhat awry because of the indisposition of
three of the leading artists: Lynn Seymour, David Wall and the guest
artist, Natalia Makarova....Unexpectedly, we saw Merle Park and
Rudolf Nureyev bringing the second section of the programme to a
magnificent climax by their interpretation of Nureyev's version of
the big pas de deux from "The Nutcracker". Here the
choreography included some lifts of extreme difficulty, with the
ballerina turning smartly in the air before being caught by her
partner, but both artists danced throughout the pas de deux with the
greatest charm, ease and ebullience. The third section of the
programme also ended effectively with Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf
Nureyev dancing the balcony scene from Kenneth MacMillan's version
of "Romeo and Juliet". From the first hesitant meeting centre
stage they moved in perfect unison through the many changes of pace
of the main body of the dance, making every detail count. |
Daily Mail
Dec. 17, 1971
By David Gillard |
Tears for Fonteyn
and Rudy - The Royal Ballet, Royal Opera House.
Rudolf Nureyev Royal Opera Archive Exhibitions
Royal Opera Exhibitions
The new production of Jerome Robbins' Afternoon of a Faun
flanked by a revival of Ninette de Valois' Checkmate and
Ashton's ever-emotive Marguerite and Armand proved a
formidable triple bill.
Checkmate has been revived to celebrate Sir Arthur Bliss's
80th birthday year, but the ballet never quite comes off for me.
Nureyev made strong work of the Red Knight, though he was not at his
best. Robbins' pas-de-deux danced to Debussy's music and
inspired by Nijinksy's Faun, is set in a ballet rehearsal
room - 'a room with a mirror', the programme calls it. It is a
haunting, if unsensational little work. Marguerite and
Armand is, of course, the grandest of grand finales.
Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev are exquisite as the ill-starred
lovers and they, plus Liszt's music, wring floods of tears.
Love Story has got nothing on this. |
Dec. 17, 1971
John Percival |
You must imagine that the
proscenium opening is filled by one of those huge mirrors they have
on the walls of ballet rehearsal studios, so that when the two
dancers on stage stare intently towards you, what they are actually
seeing is their own reflections. This is the setting of
Afternoon of a Faun, which Jerome Robbins has mounted for the
Royal Ballet.
The Debussy music of course is the same as Nijinsky used for his
masterwork, happily preserved in Ballet Rambert's repertory.
Robbins's approach is so different that there is no need to choose
between the two versions; both can be enjoyed on their own terms....
It is almost 19 years since Robbins created Faun for New York
City Ballet, and about 12 years since his own company first danced
it in London, but it has a timelessness which makes it look
absolutely contemporary. Checkmate, revived on this
same programme, is less than twice as old but seems very much a
museum piece. Still, it is a part of our short ballet history,
and the chance to see it is worth taking. |
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