St. Petersburg's 'Paquita' makes U.S. debut at Kennedy Center

Paquita, Mariinsky Ballet (Photo: Darian Volkova/ State Academic Mariinsky Theater)
Paquita was the first ballet that Marius Petipa adapted from a French source when he arrived in St. Petersburg. Hardly a surprise, then, that it is not a great work. The Mariinsky Ballet's new adaptation of the ballet, which opened Tuesday night in the Kennedy Center Opera House, is one of the few productions from this esteemed company that you can pass on seeing. A rather long night in the theater, it made one understand why Paquita disappeared from the repertory, except for a few "bleeding chunks" like the Pas de trois and the Grand Pas and divertissement, the latter performed on its own by the Mariinsky in 2015.

The ballet was first created in Paris, with music by Édouard Deldevez, before being expanded into its better-known form by Marius Petipa in St. Petersburg. As was the usual practice, Petipa augmented the work over the years with new music by Ludwig Minkus and some pieces stolen from other composers. Other companies and directors have been trying to revive Paquita in recent years, too, including a restoration from the Stepanov notation by Alexei Ratmansky in Munich and an adaptation by Pierre Lacotte in Paris.

This production, premiered at the Mariinsky in 2017, is mostly new. Rather than reconstructing Petipa's work, Yuri Smekalov has created a new libretto and new choreography, using a reordering and reorchestration of the music. That new work has been grafted on to Yuri Burlaka's painstaking restoration of the Grand Pas, which constitutes most of the third act. The story remains basically the same, concerning a noble girl stolen away by gypsies. She falls in love with an officer who gives up his commission to live among the gypsies, a sort of variation on the story of Bizet's Carmen twenty-five years later.

Other Reviews: Sarah L. Kaufman, Mariinsky Ballet’s ‘Paquita’: Glittering dancing but a skimpy story (Washington Post, October 9, 2019)

The result is dramatically inert, mostly a series of rather empty pantomime scenes. In particular, the ending of the second act was curiously anti-climactic. The scenic design (Andrei Svebo) and costuming (Elena Zaitseva) are both handsome, including a humorous use of moving shrub trees during one transition. Most of the music, played ably by the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra under the baton of the Mariinsky's Gavriel Heine, is not worth a second listen. Some of the more elaborate variations, including extensive solos for violin, flute, and harp (many times), created appropriately dreamy moods in solo dances.

The main reason to see Paquita is for the company's dancers. In the title role is Viktoria Tereshkina, in many ways a cold, steely ballerina (last seen in 2017) who has warmed considerably in this character. Her technique was impeccable, handsome lines and poise that gave her exceptional confidence. Even better in some ways was the Andres of Timur Askerov, a tall, elegant partner for the long-limbed Tereshkina. The Grand Pas of the third act features mostly lower-rung dancers: best among them was Yekaterina Chebykina, also featured to flattering effect as the third wheel in the Pas de trois of the second act.

Paquita runs through October 13 at the Kennedy Center Opera House.

Mariinsky Ballet returns with curious, occasionally brilliant 'La Bayadère'

La Bayadère, Kingdom of the Shades (Act III), Mariinsky Ballet (photo by Valentin Baranovsky)
The last time the Mariinsky Ballet performed La Bayadère at the Kennedy Center, it was in 2008, when the company was still calling itself the Kirov Ballet. Regret over missing that run is almost entirely due to the chance to see Diana Vishneva dance the role of Nikia, in what was the company’s first performance of the ballet, in the Marius Petipa choreography, here in Washington. The second run of this ballet, which opened last night in the Kennedy Center Opera House, was most remarkable for its male lead.

It has to be said that La Bayadère is not exactly a work for the ages. It has a largely undistinguished score by Ludwig Minkus, often little more than a harmonic pattern and accompanying figures in search of an interesting melody. The story is a fairly standard love triangle, involving a prince who has to marry Gamzatti, the rajah's daughter, but is actually in love with Nikia, the temple dancer (bayadère) of the title. There is a lot of rather stilted pantomime in the first two acts, and the divertissment in the second act, for the wedding of Solor and Gamzatti, is a ludicrous pageant that opens with Solor arriving atop a (fake) elephant and reaches a silly climax with the corps holding stuffed parrots. Dance critic Alastair Macaulay once quipped, “No matter which production of this full-length ballet you see, at least 60 percent of it is trash.” The math is indisputable.


Kimin Kim in La Bayadère, Mariinsky Ballet (photo by Natasha Razina)
The Solor of Korean dancer Kimin Kim, who has also danced the role with American Ballet Theater, was the high point of the solo casting. Lithe and bounding with energy, Kim made the most of the role's many leaps and other acrobatic feats -- “a formulaic series of standard bravura tricks," Macaulay also noted, which "have much more to do with a ballet competition than with dance drama.” The lightness and verticality of his movement through the air was breath-taking.

Other Reviews: Sarah L. Kaufman, The ballerina who fights back: In ‘La Bayadere,’ she won’t be manhandled (Washington Post, October 18)

Viktoria Tereshkina was technically impeccable as Nikia, her iron-like form holding beautiful shapes in lifts. Her strongest moment was the tragic dance at her beloved's wedding in the second act, to the accompaniment of a poignantly played solo by principal cellist Amy Frost Baumgarten. In this moment, especially going to a perfectly still arabesque while remaining en pointe with consummate strength, Tereshkina was astounding to watch. In much of what had come before, she was a cold, even steely presence, not creating much sympathy for her plight.

Although the Mariinsky has recently restored the fourth act of La Bayadère, this production ended mercifully with the best part, Solor's extravagant opium dream in the third act. The "Kingdom of the Shades" scene is “one of the sovereign images of ballet classicism” (Macaulay again), and few companies mount it as strikingly, as mysteriously as the Mariinsky. Susan Robinson's harp solos set the otherworldly tone, as the gorgeous corps de ballet, supremely drilled, made their slow descent from the Himalayas. The meditative repetition of movements and music creates a spell, greater than either music or dance by itself.

The solo variations for Solor and Nikia's ghost were also fine, featuring a softer version of Tereshkina's style, the perfect foil to the loveless pas de deux Solor had with the Gamzatti of Anastasia Matvienko in the second act. Oleg Rylatko, concertmaster of the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra, played the dazzling violin solos with admirable virtuosity.

La Bayadère runs through October 22, at the Kennedy Center Opera House.

'Little Humpbacked Horse' hops its way around the Kennedy Center

Alexei Ratmansky's The Little Humpbacked Horse (At the Bottom of the Sea), Mariinsky Ballet (photo by Nastasha Razina)
Over the years the Mariinsky Ballet has brought many beautiful ballet productions for its annual visits to the Kennedy Center. Miss Ionarts has grown up watching these often marvelous performances: Diana Vishneva's Kitri and Aurora and Giselle, the Soviet transformations of Swan Lake and Romeo and Juliet, reconstructions of Rite of Spring and The Firebird. In recent years, the repertory has turned a little more obscure, beginning with last year's Raymonda and, opening on Tuesday night, this year's performances of The Little Humpbacked Horse. As with other examples in Russian opera and ballet, this is one of those works few people outside of Russia have ever heard of, but that all Russians know.

The tale by Pyotr Yershov became a ballet in the 19th century, produced with a libretto by Arthur Saint-Léon and music by Cesare Pugni at the Bolshoi in 1864. Parts of the story are quite familiar, as the foolish youngest brother, Ivan, seizes the feather of a mysterious Fire Bird to help him win a bride. For a new version of the ballet in the mid-20th century, with a revised libretto by Maxim Isaev, Rodion Shchedrin composed a new score, during the performance of which he met his wife, ballerina Maya Plisetskaya. This is the version that the Mariinsky commissioned a new choreography for in 2009, directed by Alexei Ratmansky. With colorful, geometric, minimal sets and bright, abstract costumes (both designed by Maxim Isaev), Ratmansky has given the piece a modern twist, while keeping in touch with the folk dance elements, of which the original ballet was the first example in Russia.

Shchedrin opens the first scene in a flurry of activity, fanfare-like brass followed by tittering woodwinds, and much of the score remains busy, sometimes to a fault. In a note written for the 2009 premiere of the Ratmansky production, Shchedrin wrote of the music as "a very early work of mine," in which he sees "much naivety and imperfection." The comic aspects of the music seem to have put Ratmansky in a slapstick mood, and some extended sections of the score inspired too many repetitions of the same ideas in the choreography. How many times do the three brothers have to throw each other around and get knocked to the floor? A few judicious cuts, especially in the crowd scenes, could strengthen the dramatic effect, especially since the best musical moments are elsewhere: with the wild dancing of the horses, the magical swoosh accompanying the little humpbacked horse (a delightfully agile and antic Yaroslav Baibordin), the evocative trills of the flock of Fire Birds, and the pretty music for the Wet-Nurses.

Top marks go to Vladimir Shklyarov, who brought the same delicate whimsy to the role of Ivan the Fool as he did in Le Spectre de la Rose and Romeo and Juliet. It is not a grand Romantic role, as he wins the heart of the Tsarevna (a lovely Anastasia Matvienko) through a combination of clutzy charm and pulling her hair. (He accomplishes this with a charming flute solo in the original choreography by Alexander Radunsky.) Zlata Yalinich was a spirited Young Mare, paired with the high-leaping Horses of Alexander Romanchikov and Alexander Beloborodov, and an enigmatic presence as the princess at the bottom of the sea. Fine comic turns came from Dmitry Pykhachov's daft, childish Tsar and the sebaceous villainy of Yuri Smekalov's Gentlemen of the Bed Chamber. Alexei Repnikov conducted a good performance by the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra, with an especially busy night for the percussionists, whose sounds were perhaps overused by Shchedrin.

The Little Humpbacked Horse by the Mariinsky Ballet runs through February 5, at the Kennedy Center Opera House.

Mariinsky's Old-Fashioned 'Raymonda'

Oxana Skorik and Andrei Ermakov in Raymonda, Mariinsky Ballet (photo by Valentin Baranovsky)
Alexander Glazunov's Raymonda is not a familiar score on this side of the world. Russian friends, however, speak of it in glowing tones, music synonymous with the idea of ballet, as well as the choreography that goes with it. The Mariinsky Ballet is showing its Soviet-tinged production, from 1948, for which Konstantin Sergeyev revised the original choreography by Marius Petipa, this week at the Kennedy Center Opera House. Seen on Tuesday evening, it is a museum piece, old-fashioned but nonetheless an often enchanting work, featuring what dance scholar Jennifer Homans has called "a wealth of jewel-like dances."

The libretto is a tale of crusaders, Saracens, and princesses, with a dash of Gothic ghost story, the mysterious White Lady, who is expunged in the Soviet updating. The eponymous princess is courted by a knight named Jean de Brienne, who ultimately foils the plan by a visiting Saracen to abduct Raymonda. The Muslim lord, who showers the princess and her family with slaves and other gifts to the accompaniment of Middle Eastern-tinged music later imitated by Hollywood composers, ends up slain in combat for his trouble, after which a third-act apotheosis shows the wedding of Raymonda and de Brienne.

Other Reviews: Alastair Macaulay, Mariinsky Ballet in ‘Raymonda,’ Searching About for a Perfect Suitor (New York Times, February 24) Sarah L. Kaufman, Mariinsky Ballet’s ‘Raymonda’ comes slowly to life (Washington Post, February 24)

Oxana Skorik had an uncertain start and did not really take one's breath away in the title role, but she had some beautiful moments, especially strong and motionless in pirouettes. Taking his cue from Tchaikovsky, Glazunov included some delightful parts for celesta and harp, especially in the first act, where most of the dramatic focus is placed, somewhat oddly. Konstantin Zverev was appropriately over the top as Abderakhman, making a suave dance with Raymonda to a slow, pretty version of his music in Act II. At one point two other men lifted up Skorik and Zverev took over from them, holding her up with impressive strength.

As Jean de Brienne, Timur Askerov was earnest and technically accomplished, while Kristina Shapran (Clémence) and Sofia Ivanova-Skoblikova (the second variation in The Dream) stood out in supporting roles. The Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra sounded unfamiliar with the score, but there were some lush sounds from the strings and outstanding violin solos, overseen by Mariinsky conductor Gavriel Heine. Glazunov's gorgeous interludes were accompanied, somewhat emptily, by video of clouds on a scrim.

This production continues through February 28, at the Kennedy Center Opera House.

Mariinsky Ballet's 'Rite of Spring'

Everyone knows about the debacle caused by The Rite of Spring. In spite of having caused a riot, the score quickly became not only accepted but beloved, with a section even used by Walt Disney in Fantasia less than thirty years after the controversial Paris premiere. The uproar was caused not only by the music, which was hard for the musicians to understand and reportedly not played very well, but by the daring choreography of Vaslav Nijinsky. Although we have the score, we do not have the choreography, which was performed as Nijinsky created it for fewer than ten performances and then lost. What we do have is a scholarly reconstruction, by Millicent Hodson and Kenneth Archer, premiered by the Joffrey Ballet back in 1987. True, this version is far from perfect: dance historian Jennifer Homans, in her book Apollo's Angels, dismisses it as "American postmodern dance masquerading as a seminal modernist work." Even so, the Mariinsky Ballet leads off its current program at the Kennedy Center Opera House, seen on Tuesday night, with it.

Vaslav Nijinsky in Le Spectre de la Rose, 1911

While the reconstruction may be a "travesty," as Homans put it, "a radical and shocking dance rendered tame and kitschy, a souvenir from an exotic past," it is the closest we are going to get to one of the most significant artistic achievements of the 20th century. (The choreography for Debussy's Jeux is also on my wishlist.) The experience of watching it live, with the music performed by an expanded Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra, brought home the raw power of the work -- dance, music, artistic designs -- in a way that was not clear to me before. The music, conducted here by Gavriel Heine, was not always in top form and neither was the dancing, but when you see the movements -- or, at least, Hodson and Archer's most educated guess at the movements -- line up with the music, it makes sense in a way it did not before. A few striking moments will suffice as explanation. The stillness and then ecstatic writhing of the tribesmen incited by the music that accompanies the Cortège du Sage is followed by the agonized lowering of the Sage's body to the ground as he kisses the earth (L'Adoration de la Terre). The night vigil of the Cercles mystérieux des adolescentes reveals the selection of the Chosen One, standing in the center as if planted in the ground, danced here in the final scenes with crazed agitation, all flying braids and anguished shudders, by Daria Pavlenko.

Other Reviews: Sarah Kaufman, Mariinsky Ballet’s lush, bright and visually spectacular ‘Rite of Spring’ (Washington Post, January 29) ---, Mariinsky Ballet’s ‘Rite of Spring’: Ode to the human savage, still untamed (Washington Post, January 23) Alastair Macaulay, Tweaking an Illustrious Tradition to Incorporate Western Notions (New York Times, January 26) ---, An Age-Old Romantic Introduction, With Revitalizing Touches (New York Times, January 19) Gia Kourlas, Young Performers Spreading Their Wings (New York Times, January 23)

It was hard to imagine anything following such a performance, but the Mariinsky pulled some surprises out of their bag of tricks, with a middle act of two short but celebrated Michel Fokine choreographies. The first, Le spectre de la rose, was created by Vaslav Nijinsky, as the spirit of a rose brought home by a young woman returning from her first ball, made memorable by the bepetaled dancer's triumphant entrance and exit (costumes designed by Léon Bakst), both made by leaps through large windows. Vladimir Shklyarov, last seen in the Mariinsky Romeo and Juliet, was androgynous in the title role, both strong and delicate as, unseen but smelled and remembered by the girl, he wafted the lovely Kristina Shapran around the stage, to Berlioz's orchestration of Carl Maria von Weber's Invitation to the Dance. This paired elegantly with Fokine's solo choreography The Swan, set to Saint-Saëns's Le Cygne, with Ulyana Lopatkina, trembling en pointe and with undulating, graceful arms, taking the role created by Anna Pavlova.

The final act was given over to Paquita Grand Pas, a lengthy divertissement by Marius Petipa inserted into Paquita. Set to largely undistinguished music by Ludwig Minkus, it ran the risk of anticlimax, and indeed many empty seats were left after second intermission. For the energetic Pas de Trois, the variation of Kristina Shapran (a dancer to watch), and the lovely return of Ulyana Lopatkina, it was worth the wait.

This program repeats all week at the Kennedy Center Opera House, through February 1, but with different casts.

Wedding Bells on 'Swan Lake'

As previewed, the visit of the Mariinsky Ballet to the Kennedy Center Opera House, with a production of Swan Lake, seen on Tuesday night, is one of the highlights of the month. The Mariinsky production, like most productions everywhere, goes back to the St. Petersburg theater’s first staging of Swan Lake, choreographed by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov in 1895. The troupe now dances, however, an updating of the story created by Konstantin Sergeyev in 1950, which on one hand seems traditional because it remains close to Petipa in much of the choreography and the sets and costumes. On the other hand, it represents a fundamental shifting of the narrative weight, raising the profile of the villain, von Rothbart, by associating his evil power with the most famous theme in the ballet. Even more unsettling, it alters the tragic conclusion of the ballet, with Prince Siegfried battling von Rothbart, striking off one of his wings, which breaks the spell over the swan-maidens, setting them all free. Odette and Siegfried are reunited in love.

This was music to the ears of Miss Ionarts, who had been dreading two things about seeing her first Swan Lake: how scary would von Rothbart be, and how sad it would be to watch the lovers die or kill themselves. Miss Ionarts prefers a happy ending to a tragic one, but it has to be said that, from an adult point of view, this ending robs Swan Lake of a good portion of its dramatic power. This production, beautiful staged and beautifully danced, is still worth seeing and makes an excellent first Swan Lake for a younger viewer, but for those longing for the cathartic power of the story, matched so perfectly to its gorgeous score, it may be a letdown.

The first act thus becomes the dramatic crux of the work in many ways, from the gloomy introduction, by which the tragic tone of the work is announced, to the fateful encounter of the prince and the swan-maiden on the shore of the cursed lake. Andrei Yermakov’s von Rothbart, especially in his black swan costume with silver mask in the first and last acts, was all slashing winged arms and raptor-like menace. As Odette, principal dancer Alina Somova showed plenty of the gymnast’s flexibility that has so divided critics, with one particular en pointe extension that drew audible gasps from many in the audience. That quality in her dancing was an easy way to make the role of Odile, which she also portrayed, more seductive and physical than Odette. There were some extraordinary extensions of her long legs in lifts at the opening of Act II and a series of dizzying pirouettes, but it could have been exploited more for characterization.

While her Siegfried, principal dancer Vladimir Shklyarov, did not always achieve great height in leaps or full vertical position in spins, he was an affecting match with Somova in the pas de deux at the end of Act I, making that moment the climax of this version of the ballet, with Somova soaring effortlessly in the many lifts, a fragile butterfly captured by the prince, matched to the warm violin solo of Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra concertmaster Oleg Rylatko. The corps was at its best in the swan scenes, a perfectly unified flock of graceful white birds, with pleasing contributions as the revelers in the first act and in the divertissement of national dances in the court scenes of Act II.

Other Reviews: Sarah Kaufman, Mariinsky Ballet’s ‘Swan Lake’ is magical (Washington Post, January 30) Franziska Bork Petersen, Mariinsky brings the magic (Copenhagen Post, January 26) Alistair Macaulay, Live From St. Petersburg (With Popcorn) (New York Times, June 12, 2013) Ann Murphy, Mariinsky Ballet's 'Swan Lake' brings the beauty but not the tragic heart to the stage in Berkeley (San Jose Mercury-News, October 11, 2012)

Among the supporting cast, Sergeyev’s addition of a dynamic role for a jester in the court scenes was a fine vehicle for the kooky moves and antic leaps of Vladislav Shumakov, who made a distinguished appearance from the corps. (The character’s joking attempts to get himself kissed by the prince’s tutor, instead of the girls the tutor is aiming for, take on a whole new layer of meaning given the current controversy over anti-gay legislation in Russia.) The only shortcoming was one of the women among the prince’s friends at the Act I party, who have a series of dances to entertain the prince, where there was a minor stumble and what generally looked like an off night.

Mariinsky conductor Alexey Repnikov led a generally polished performance from the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra, in spite of the many stretches to the tempo that make a live orchestra so essential to ballet. The oboe solos in the principal tragic theme, which go very high, were skillfully if not effortlessly negotiated, and the trumpet solos, especially in the Neapolitan dance, were fine. The brass, in fact, was the most solid section in the orchestra, and there are many of them (cornets, trumpets, horns, trombones, and tuba), making for some ominous clouds of sound.

This production from the Mariinsky Ballet continues through Sunday afternoon, in the Kennedy Center Opera House, but except for this evening, all performances are already sold out.

Mariinsky Ballet Samples Fokine

Chopiniana, choreography by Michel Fokine, Mariinsky Ballet

The Mariinsky Ballet's annual visits to the Kennedy Center Opera House always warm up the winter months. The St. Petersburg company is in town again this week, sadly without its outstanding étoile Diana Vishneva, but with a sampler of one-act choreographies by Michel Fokine. Called Les Saisons Russes, the trilogy evokes the season of new works presented by Diaghilev in Paris with his company Les Ballets Russes, as Fokine worked both at the Mariinsky and for Diaghilev in Paris. It made for a long evening in the theater, about three hours with two intermissions, but the productions are all lovely and the dancing very good, if without any individual performance to make it extraordinary.

The first work, Chopiniana, was created in 1908 to Alexander Glazunov's suite of orchestrations of piano pieces by Chopin, and it comes as near as one likely could to the perfect classical ballet, all of the beauty of a ballet blanc, with some astounding solos, but abstract and plot-less, without any of the character development and pantomime one would normally need to get through to reach the good stuff. Fokine reworked the piece for Diaghilev's company, under the title Les Sylphides, in 1909. The women of the corps de ballet form a graceful backdrop to the main action, which involves a poet's contemplation of beauty in the form of three female solos. The Mariinsky corps was up to its fine standards, if not quite as absolutely unified as we have seen in previous appearances. They stood in place for long periods of time, frozen like statues or trees in arranged copses or groves, their outstretched arms, like branches, sometimes fluttering or bending in the wind (lots of graceful port de bras), then coming to life as women. As the poet, Igor Kolb lived up to his name as one of only three principal dancers on this tour, graceful and so strong in the many lifts, executed with precision and unflagging confidence.

Ekaterina Kondaurova as the Firebird, Mariinsky Ballet

Fokine's extraordinary choreography for Stravinsky's The Firebird, premiered by Diaghilev in 1910 in Paris, forms the centerpiece, and with the delectable bon-bon of Chopiniana it is more than enough reason to see this production. In a reconstruction by Isabelle Fokine and Andris Liepa, it has a gorgeous, colorful set lit by black light and other colors, and delightful costumes (sets and costumes by Anna and Anatoly Nezhny). First soloist Ekaterina Kondaurova was charming as the Firebird, all avian jerks and twitches of head and arms, spotlit in her prismatic, feathered costume (Miss Ionarts spent a lot of time staring at the version on display at the entrance to the theater) by an orange-red bloom of light. Fokine included many delightful folk elements in the choreography, not least in the scene with the witches and monsters summoned by Kashchei to fight the Tsarevich, a bristling rampage of hunched figures that scared Miss Ionarts to death, as did the loping, skull-masked Kashchei of character dancer Soslan Kulaiev. Alexander Romanchikov was forthright and handsome as the Tsarevich, and there were many bewitching special effects, including rolling fog, a flashing firebird that shot across the back of the stage before Kondaurova's first entrance, and lightning flashes.

Fokine's Schéhérazade, premiered by the Ballets Russes in 1910, is not in the same category as the other two selections, although it is a pleasing, sultry evocation of a fantasy of the oriental harem. While the Sultan Shahriyar is away hunting, Zobeide and his other slaves and concubines get up to no good, leading to quite a slaughter when he returns to find them mid-orgy. Not much of the choreography is all that memorable, full of so many cliches that it approaches the level of parody, but here the star pair was definitely worth watching, principal dancers Uliana Lopatkina and Daniil Korsuntsev as Zobeide and her slave, who gave the choreography all of the erotic longing and fulfillment it needed. Fokine selected from and rearranged, somewhat clumsily, the symphonic score by Rimsky-Korsakov, to make it fit the somewhat soap-operatic story, and the seams show. In the pit, the Kennedy Center Opera Orchestra sounded a little disorganized and under-rehearsed (the hand of conductor Alexey Repnikov not always so clear), especially in the many rubato slow-downs and speed-ups of Chopiniana, with the strongest, most unified sound in what is probably the most familiar score, The Firebird. Concertmaster Oleg Rylatko had a passionate, if not always perfectly tuned sound on the iconic violin solos of the Rimsky-Korsakov score.

This production continues through January 22, in the Kennedy Center Opera House. Casting changes with each performance and is always subject to last-minute changes. You can compare the dancers listed by the Kennedy Center Web site with this roster from the Mariinsky Ballet.

SVILUPPO:
Jacqueline Trescott, Reston’s Keenan Kampa to join Mariinksy Ballet (Washington Post, January 19)

Sarah Kaufman, Mariinsky Ballet shines in Fokine program (Washington Ballet, January 19)

---, Mariinsky Ballet’s Fokine works: History revisited (Washington Post, January 14)

DCist: Diana Vishneva in 'Giselle'

See my review of the Mariinsky Ballet's production of Giselle, published at DCist today:

Mariinsky Ballet's Classic 'Giselle' (DCist, February 10):

The yearly visits by the Mariinsky Ballet -- as in their Sleeping Beauty in 2010 and Don Quixote in 2009 -- are generally one of the highlights of the Kennedy Center's dance season, and this is certainly true of this week's production of the St. Petersburg company's classic Giselle. It is a choreography and staging that are instantly recognizable as the best that the classical ballet tradition has to offer — especially the ballet blanc of the second act, pictured at right — giving the spectator a sort of mythic image of what ballet is. The dancing, going back to the turn of the 20th century and Marius Petipa's updating of the original choreography, focuses more on storytelling than on acrobatic athleticism. Although the lead roles especially are quite demanding, grace is the emphasis more than strength, or at least that is the way it should appear.

The libretto, created by Vernoy de Saint-Georges and French Romantic poet Théophile Gautier from a Germanic legend retold by Heinrich Heine, concerns a medieval love story gone bad. Prince Albrecht, betrothed to Princess Bathilde, disguises himself as a villager to woo an innocent peasant girl named Giselle. Although she is pursued by Hans, the local gamekeeper, Giselle falls desperately in love with Albrecht and dies of a broken heart when Hans reveals Albrecht's identity. In the second act, she reappears as one of the Wilis, spirits of dead girls abandoned at the altar. The Wilis, led by their queen, haunt men in the night, forcing them to dance to exhaustion and then drowning them in lakes. Both Hans and Albrecht fall into their trap, but Giselle sacrifices herself a second time to save Albrecht from doom. [Continue reading]

Adolphe Adam, Giselle
Mariinsky Ballet
Kennedy Center Opera House

Other articles:

• Sarah Kaufman, Mariinsky's 'Giselle': Less is more (Washington Post, February 10)

DCist: Sleeping Beauty

See my review of the opening performance of the Mariinsky Ballet's production of The Sleeping Beauty, published today at DCist:

Mariinsky Ballet's Sleeping Beauty (DCist, February 11):

Diana Vishneva as Aurora (photo by Natasha Razina / Mariinsky Ballet)

The Mariinsky Ballet returned to the Kennedy Center Opera House on Tuesday night for a run of performances of its classic production of The Sleeping Beauty. Classic can also be a nice way of saying tired, and this choreography by Marius Petipa, updated by Konstantine Sergeyev and Fedor Lopukhov, has the advantage of being a fairy-tale, wedding-cake piece of fluff and the disadvantage of the same. The company from St. Petersburg, which has apparently taken the final step toward shedding its Soviet past by dropping its former name of Kirov Ballet, is not willing quite yet to break with its past when its comes to the sacred cows (the premiere of Tchaikovsky's music and Petipa's choreography were given by the Mariinsky Theater in 1890). Whether you think that is good or bad depends on your tastes.

To be honest, it is hard to imagine anything but a saccharine staging for this sugary libretto: Charles Perrault's hard-hitting fairy tale re-imagined by Ivan Vsevolozhsky and Petipa with an entire third act devoted only to the wedding of Princess Aurora and Prince Désiré. The good news is that the dancing was beautiful to watch, especially from the women of the corps de ballet, which looked much more unified and rigorously rehearsed than they did in Don Quixote last year. All of the big group numbers had an aesthetically pleasing evenness of movement and gesture, which is important in a ballet where a meagerness of storyline means that not much is left to simple pantomime. [Continue reading]

Performances continue through February 14. After the Kennedy Center canceled last night's performance because of the snowstorm, the Mariinsky Ballet has agreed to add an extra performance to its run at the Kennedy Center -- on Sunday evening (February 14, 7:30 pm). It's not showing up on the Web site yet, so call the box office directly.

SEE ALSO:
Sarah Kaufman, Mariinsky Ballet's 'The Sleeping Beauty' casts powerful spell at Kennedy Center (Washington Post, February 11)

See Also: Don Quixote

Don Quixote (choreography by Alexander Gorsky after Marius Petipa; music by Ludwig Minkus)
Mariinsky Ballet
Kennedy Center Opera House

Petipa's libretto is centered on Kitri, the daughter of a Barcelona innkeeper, a transmutation of Aldonza Lorenzo, the farm girl whom Don Quixote exalts as the legendary love of his life, Dulcinea, in the 1606 novel by Cervantes. The character of el ingenioso hidalgo is relegated mostly to the sidelines, a wistful observer of the love triangle (Kitri, her lover Basil, and Gamache, the man her father wants her to marry) that is the motivating crisis of the plot. It would be difficult to choreograph the character of Don Quixote in any other way, and Petipa does incorporate a couple of the novel's classic scenarios, including Sancho Panza being bounced on a blanket by ruffians, Quixote attacking the windmill, and his mistaking the puppet show for reality.

What filled the Kennedy Center Opera House last night was the chance to see prima ballerina Diana Vishneva (pictured), who was extraordinary as Kitri. In a bright red costume in Act I, she showed a dramatic, long line en pointe. Her leaps and extensions were smooth and rounded with athletic grace, and her pirouettes aligned on a nearly perfect vertical axis. She was not quite matched by her Basil, Evgeny Ivanchenko, whose lifts began to look a bit shaky by the end of the first act, but his fake suicide in the third act was appropriately way over the top.

Mariinsky Ballet Tilts at Windmills (DCist, January 14)

UPDATE:

• Alistair Macaulay, Tilting at Windmills, but Not at Traditions, in Performance From Maryinsky (New York Times, January 15)
  
• Sarah Kaufman, The Mariinsky, in Fine (but Hollow) Form (Washington Post, January 15)
  
• Jean Battey Lewis, 'Quixote's' lance dulls (Washington Times, January 15)

Romeo and Juliet, Kirov Ballet

Andrian Fadeyev and Evgenya Obraztsova in Romeo and Juliet, Kirov Ballet, photo by Natasha Razina, courtesy of the Kennedy Center

The Shakespeare in Washington festival continues this week with the visit of the Kirov Ballet to the Kennedy Center Opera House. This year, the resident troupe of St. Petersburg's Mariinsky Theater has brought its traveling production of Leonid Lavrovsky's choreography of Romeo and Juliet. Sergei Prokofiev wanted to premiere the sublime music of this ballet (op. 64) at the Mariinsky in the 1930s, but the theater ultimately balked. The Bolshoi Theater in Moscow subsequently accepted and then rejected the ballet, because of the challenging score.

The Kirov Ballet's debut of the work was delayed until 1940, two years after Prokofiev introduced it in Brno. Even so, there is little doubt that the Kirov "owns" this ballet, in a sense, and it has been performing Lavrovsky's Soviet-era choreography regularly ever since. The Post reports today that Mark Morris will create his own choreography of this ballet, which restores the happy ending of an early version, made by consultation with a score recently discovered in Moscow. Lavrovsky ingeniously resolved several problems in adapting the Shakespeare play to ballet, and the death scene is one of the most moving parts of this beautiful work. Romeo lifts Juliet's apparently dead body from the funeral bier and carries her around, trying to partner with a dead weight.

If viewers are to believe the story, we must be moved by the idea of the two principal dancers falling in love at first sight. Last night's Juliet was Olesya Novikova, and with her long body, impressive extensions, elegant port de bras, and flawless en pointe technique, she was a fragile, wispy thing as Juliet. Novikova has only recently moved from the corps de ballet into solo roles, memorably in a touring version of Don Quixote. This was her Kirov debut in the role of Juliet, and it was to my eyes an impressive success. Novikova was perhaps not well paired with Byelorussian Igor Kolb, who seemed not quite the right match by height. Kolb has been a principal dancer with the Kirov for nine years and is formerly known for the role of the Troubadour in this ballet. His strength in the lifts was remarkable, especially in the final scene, when Romeo carries the limp body of Juliet over his head back up the stairs to her bier.

Fine performances were also seen from Sergey Popov as Paris (whose tall body and lanky grace seemed to match Novikova's Juliet better), Dmitry Pykhachev's rash Tybalt (complete with red hair and costume of brightly colored patches), and Alexander Sergeev's slightly crazy Mercutio. The corps de ballet provided interesting crowd scenes, although the four jesters that appeared with the Joker (an impressively acrobatic Andrey Ivanov) were not always in unity.

The Opera House Orchestra, conducted by the Kirov's Alexander Polyanichko, got off to a rough start (the synthesized organ that sounds at the start of the balcony scene has to go) but was in fine form by the third act. The final part of the score has the best music, beginning with the earth-shaking introduction to Act III, a contrast of dissonant and consonant chords. The low brass gave excellent force to the most famous theme, the menacing Dance of the Knights. In this version, a snarling Lord Capulet dances with the men at the party crashed by Romeo and Mercutio. The theme comes to represent Capulet's domination of his daughter, returning as he scolds her for not agreeing to marry Paris in Act III. When Juliet appears to relent, while secretly planning to fake her suicide, and dances with Paris, the theme appears in the most seductive music of the ballet, a softened version for a pas de deux with tinkling celesta.

Classical ballet companies tend to use the same productions over and over, which sometimes makes you long for some fresh air. The sets and costumes used here were designed for the original production by Pyotr Williams, who died in 1947. Except for the lovely outdoor night scene for Juliet's funeral, with its twinkling stars, some updating might be good. These few minor faults are easily forgiven, however, making it worth your while to see one of the remaining performances. For someone new to ballet, it will be an entertaining introduction.

Additional Comments by Jens F. Laurson: Rarely is ballet musically so satisfying as to merit attendance on those grounds alone. Exceptions exist: Coppelia, most Tchaikovsky ballets (for those who like that sort of thing), and most definitely Romeo & Juliet, which the Kirov Ballet currently presents at the Kennedy Center. Prokofiev’s score makes this work an attraction for music- and ballet-lovers alike. The former get to hear all the music rather than just the popular excerpts and suites – and get to see the music they do know in the context for which it was composed. About that context, though… it is a very curious thing how much of Prokofiev’s music does not actually seem to go along very intuitively with the Leonid Lavrovsky choreography or even the story. This is particularly odd given the collaboration between the two artists on this work. Most notably the ‘threatening’, gloom-and-doom music that appears in the fifth scene of Act 1: It reminds, if anything, of Peter and the Wolf, with the wolf (or serious harm, at any rate) approaching. On stage, however, takes place a courtly dance, the most threatening move of which is a little twirly-tippy thingy of the foot that the dancing Capulet Family engages in. Elsewhere the music and choreography mesh better – for example in the act opening scenes in which common folk dance: Their movements are angular, rough hewn… and although not primitive by any stretch of the imagination (not, at any rate, considering that Le Sacre du Printemps predates Romeo & Juliet by over two decades) they are not refined either. The ballerinas, who I first thought to blame, carried their dances out with such vigor that, in combination with the music, the effect was appealing and even captivating. Charming as all that may be, it is the principal dancers that most ballet lovers come to see. The Kirov’s habit of milking the maximum amount of money from their Western tours (bringing the best dancers to London but no further and stuffing the orchestra with second and third-rank players – neither brass nor strings were up to the challenge [Correction: These third-rate players turned out to be the WNO orchestra] -- often leaves discriminating audience members disappointed. (The Bolshoi, by contrast, travels abroad with most of their stars.) With the cast from the 16th of January, no one could possibly have been much disappointed. Andrian Fadeyev’s Romeo had some awkward lifts – but that was the only detectable flaw in an otherwise convincing and elegant performance. Leonid Sarafanov Alexander Sergeev’s Mercutio had his moment in which he could show off, and there he absolutely dazzled - before falling down dead. (Mercutio, that is, not Mr. Sergeev.) The clunkiness of the lanky prince to whom Juliet is promised may not have been pleasing in-and-of-itself, but befit the character and the story very well. But most of all this Romeo & Juliet was an opportunity to admire the dancing of Evgenya Obraztsova. Her Juliet was the kind of performance that one goes to the ballet for, in the first place; the kind of performance that one will judge all future ones against… and the reason why all those consequent performances won’t quite thrill anymore. Grace and skill are – or should be – the sine qua non of any good dance performance. Neither are enough, though, to make for the impression that Ms. Obraztsova left. Here grace and skill were married to dramatic ability, innate elegance, and an expression that was so natural and believable that an actress in a film could not have been more convincing. With her lithe, small body and her clean, fragile lines, her body language (from facial expressions to hand gestures), this was Juliet: A truly thirteen-year-old girl, impetuous, playful, young-in-love and in equal parts innocent and wilful. Superb – and the stuff that can convert ballet skeptics into fans.

The only tickets remaining for the Kirov Ballet's Romeo and Juliet are for performances tonight (January 18, 7:30 p.m.), with Olesya Novikova and Anton Korsakov, and Friday night (January 19, 7:30 p.m.), with Maya Dumchenko and Mikhail Lobukhin.

Mediocrity, Not Betrayal, Does Giselle In

Please note that earlier today, I misidentified the lead dancers in this review. Irina Golub and Andrian Fadeyev (neither seen nor reviewed) must be considered innocent. Olesya Novikova and Leonid Sarafanov, the other alternative couple, were reviewed (together with Pavleko/Kolb) by Jean Battey Lewis for the Washington Times.

The Kirov-slash-Mariinsky, fond of spreading its cultural riches far and wide – and surely not unaware of the benefits of hard currency – makes Washington, D.C., a regular stop on its tours. We are thankful, especially if Gergiev himself manages to lead the main band in enthralling performances (Verdi Requiem); truth be told, Washington is usually just as grateful even if they give us something from a lower shelf. And the Kirov knows that. Or so it seemed when they sent the Kirov Ballet to D.C., except that they forgot to ship the best soloists in.

We are not a culturally discriminating town and ought not complain that the best is withheld from us in favor of London, St. Petersburg, or Vienna – perhaps even New York – performances. The indiscriminate applause for just about any “scene” of Giselle (even at the fact that there was “fog” on stage for the second act), last Sunday, seemed to underscore that point. If, however, some audience members were curiously unmoved or not entirely convinced that Giselle is in fact one of the best, certainly most dramatic, classical (well, Romantic) ballets there is, well, it may have had something to do with Daria Pavlenko in the title role and Igor Kolb as Count Albrecht, the male lead.

The two displayed the kind of dancing that an expert ballet watcher will find full of flaws, fraught with sloppy execution, insufficient extension, insecure landings, and too little air. The more casual observer – and I count myself among them – merely wonders what the whole dancing business is all about; why people get quite so excited about Giselle, or any other ballet, for that matter, in the first place. Giselle has everything that should make it at the very least enjoyable: for a ballet of its time (1842), it has superior music (by Adolphe Adam; inferior still to Delibes or Tchaikovsky, but leagues above the kind professional hacks like Minkus churned out), suffers from a hackneyed story no more than ballets all tend to do (the fewer humans involved – Mandarin, Coppelia – the better it usually is for a ballet’s story-line; but that’s based on a rather flimsy survey of mine) and comes with its tried and true, ever popular Marius Petipa choreography (with a little Jean Coralli here, a little Jules Perrot there) from 1884, in a reconstruction of which the Kirov presented this work.

I need not be detailed in my particular feelings about any interpretive art form (like ballet or theater or opera) being offered in a way that carefully excised any and all hints of new ideas over the last 130 years – but in the combination with sub-par dancing it didn’t help the appreciation of this production. The morticians who applied the lovely (cliché-expectation fulfilling) set and costume design are Igor Ivanov and Irina Press. In this form, ballet has only an accidental relation with other art forms we cover at Ionarts, namely being the off-and-on paymaster – and occasionally inspiration – of some composers. Indulging so deliberately in the artificial, its stylized ways can be either entrancing to the newcomer, or more off-putting than the haughty, pompous, screeching world of opera. In fact, it makes your average Donizetti opera look like a study in dramatic realism.

Other Reviews: Jean Battey Lewis, Kirov bows after 'Giselle' (Washington Times, June 19) Sarah Kaufman, From the Kirov, A Bright and Buoyant 'Giselle' (Washington Post, June 19)

All this came to the fore because the listless performance of the lead dancers never managed to kindle the necessary suspension of disbelief; because neither Pavlenko nor Kolb managed to offer that extra bit of excellence that transports the viewer and enchants him or her. Instead, what Count Albrecht and - in this case - his rival Hans (Dmitry Pykhachev) delivered amounted to little more than homoerotic pantomime in tights. Both Giselle and Tavarisch Albrecht were artificial in the portrayal of their roles. One could tell they did not believe an iota of their character’s emotions, and consequently we ourselves refused to believe. Giselle did not go mad: she became, by turn of fate, surely, idiotic. To all that, Kolb was digging out every effeminate and affected stock-phrase in order to undermine even the last remnant of a sense of masculinity in his role, offering but a sad stereotype of ballet dancers rather than the real thing. It took only the fine Ekaterina Osmolkina and the exemplary Vladimir Shklyarov to show, if briefly, how ballet can be danced without succumbing to all these shortfalls, when they stole the show in the first act Pas de deux. Alina Somova’s Myrtha, too, was very good (if not great) in her regal potrayal – and unlike Giselle, the Fairy-Queen didn’t stumble.

On a more positive positive note the Corps de Ballet must be mentioned as having been very good – in the first scene even excellent. I grew up in a time when classical ballet – and by that we instinctively thought of the Kirov or Bolshoi as prime exponents – meant perfection, when symmetry was not something to be approximated but executed with machine-like precision. This is a skill that has all but disappeared, even from Russian troupes (the art only survives in synchronized swimming) – but here it faintly peeked through every so often. In that, these scores of girls were already better than anything I’ve seen of late. With their quality, they kept a tantalizing hope alive that was never fulfilled by the Kirov’s second or third string of soloists. Perhaps that hope would be better invested in the Kirov not shortchanging this little backwater town of ours, Washington, next season?

The Kirov Ballet: From Russia with Forsythe

For more than a decade the Kirov (Mariinsky) Ballet -- a company famous for its 19th-century repertoire -- has been going through a series of transformations. The reign of Marius Petipa and Michel Fokine was ended in 1989 with the premiere of the ballet Theme and Variations choreographed by George Balanchine. Balanchine’s unique style and modern choreography were gladly adopted and embraced by the Kirov’s dancers. After dancing for more than a century in Romantic and Classical styles, the company was eager for a change. With ten of Balanchine’s works “under its pointes” the Kirov Ballet danced into the 20th century.

In 2004, the 57-year-old American avant-garde choreographer William Forsythe undertook the further transformation (or deconstruction) of the St. Petersburg’s renowned ballet troupe. His modern approach to dance making was a new territory for traditional, classically trained dancers of the Kirov. Once called “Antichrist of ballet,” Forsythe is known for ultramodern and extremely difficult choreography. His ballets are not for the squeamish.

For two months the Kirov’s Odiles, Nikias, Auroras, Giselles, Cinerellas, and assorted princes underwent a strenuous, around-the-clock rehearsal schedule (sort of a dance boot camp) to become ‘Universal’ or Forsythean dancers, intrepid risk takers. Their hard work has paid off. Four one-act ballets -- Steptext, The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude, In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated, and Approximate Sonata -- create an evening-long all-Forsythe program, now a prominent feature of the company’s repertoire. Titled “William Forsythe Masterworks,” this program is currently being presented by the Kirov Ballet at the Opera House of the Kennedy Center.

Choreographed in 1985 to Bach’s Chaconne from a partita for solo violin, Steptext is an abstract dance performed by three men and a woman. Starting suddenly, unexpectedly, viewers at first didn’t realize that the performance was actually under way. In complete silence, with house lights still on, soloist Igor Kolb was performing unimaginable body and arm routine. His solo had elements of an aerobic exercise, martial arts, and yoga. He moved so rapidly – it seemed like he tried to exhaust all his energy. Suddenly a sound of violin pierced the air like a cry – just two bars of music – surrendering to complete silence again. Then from the darkness a woman – Daria Pavlenko – in a red body suit appeared on stage exhibiting robot-like intricate forearm movements. Along with unusual dance vocabulary, bright lights switched on and off, nerve-pinching music played “stop and go,” and the off-centered and multifocus perspective (sometimes with three independent solos performed on different parts of the stage), this work challenged not only the dancers but also the audience. After this 20-minute piece the intermission was welcome, perhaps necessary, to allow spectators to fully absorb the work.

Other Reviews: Sarah Kaufman, One Step Forsythe, Two Steps Back for The Kirov (Washington Post, June 15) John Rockwell, The Kirov Ballet Performs Works by William Forsythe at the Kennedy Center (New York Times, June 15)

Approximate Sonata is set to music by Dutch composer Thom Willems who has collaborated with Forsythe since 1984. The ballet is a collection of five pas de deux performed by four couples (the first couple returns for a final dance.) It may have been the least compelling and visually interesting work of the evening. It began with growling lion sounds and a question “Am I in the right place?” I wondered how many people in the audience asked themselves the same question... What spectators had seen so far looked nothing like “Russian ballet” in any common understanding. If the ballet itself did not leave a particular impression, one could hardly forget the fluorescent green tights of Elena Vostronina. At 5’8’’ she is probably the tallest ballerina in the company. Her leg extensions and swings (up to 210 degrees) were spellbinding. And the performance of Ekaterina Petina will be remembered. She effortlessly navigated through Forsythe’s choreographic geometry, creating exquisite lines and shapes.

A badly amplified recording of Franz Schubert’s Symphony No. 9 in C major provided a soundtrack for The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude. Danced by a quintet of soloists - three women in bright yellow tutus and two men in red weightlifter-like costumes – this ballet is an homage to the choreographic heritage of George Balanchine and one of the most frequently performed Forsythe works. Tatiana Tkachenko was especially good in this performance. And Leonid Sarafanov, and Alexander Fadeyev, fighting gravity, demonstrated breathtaking jetés.

After the second intermission, a ballet with another long and strange title, In the Middle, Somewhere Elevated, concluded the program. Created in 1987 for nine dancers of the Paris Opera, this ballet brought William Forsythe fame and recognition. Watching it was a thrill. Six women and three men dressed in almost identical dark green tops and black tights reminded me of a squad of superhumans getting ready for a combat while listening to Thom Willem’s space music. Looking fearless and tireless, dancers moved on stage creating different dance patterns, resembling nine pieces of a puzzle getting assembled and disassembled to form a picture. Ekaterina Kondaurova was without doubt the ‘most valuable dancer’ of the team.

The opening night demonstrated that the Kirov has a new, modern, and interesting program (even if decoration-free staging, gymnastics costumes, and the use of recordings instead of the orchestra made it less appealing than the company's traditional classical repertoire). Beginning tonight, the Kirov Ballet will switch programs to something much more traditional, Giselle: June 16 (Friday), 7:30 pm; June 17 (Saturday), 1:30 and 7:30 pm; June 18 (Sunday), 1:30 pm.

The Mariinsky Ballet Dances Balanchine

As a part of the XIV International Arts Festival “Stars of the White Nights” currently underway in St. Petersburg, the Mariinsky Ballet Company paid tribute to its most famous alumnus – one of the greatest choreographers of the 20th century and a St. Petersburg native – George Balanchine. For decades Balanchine’s name had been blacklisted in Russia. Only in the late 1980s did the Mariinsky Ballet begin exploring his choreographic heritage and learn to dance à la Balanchine, mastering his classical steps and distinct movement vocabulary. The all-Balanchine program presented on May 23 at the Mariinsky Theater included three ballets from three different creative periods of the choreographer: The Serenade (1935), La Valse (1951), and Ballet Imperial (1941).


Serenade is a music-inspired ballet set to Tchaikovsky’s Serenade in C Major for String Orchestra. This is the first ballet Balanchine created in America and still one of his most popular and widely performed works. Pure dance without a storyline, it allows the audience to create its own interpretation of what happens on stage. Watching the simple, very classical choreography, I felt like I was watching a presentation of young ballerinas demonstrating their dancing talents. The opening reveals seventeen ballerinas in light blue long tulle frocks standing against a blue background with dimmed light creating the atmosphere of mystery and tranquility. This is one of the most beautiful scenes choreographed by Balanchine for the corps de ballet. The performances of soloists Xenia Ostreikovskay, Yekaterina Osmolkina, and Sofia Gumerova were most impressive. The male soloists Denis Firsov and Sergei Popov were technically impeccable at turning, supporting, lifting, and carrying ballerinas about the stage. But the real star was the Mariinsky’s corps de ballet, demonstrating unity of movements, expressiveness, artistry, and absolutely flawless technique.

Balanchine’s La Valse is more than just a dance: it’s a spectacle, it’s a ballroom drama. The first part of the ballet is set to Ravel’s Valses nobles et sentimentales (which were originally designed to become the ballet Adelaïde) with the first waltz played as an overture. Each of the following waltzes is danced by a formally dressed couple or a group of soloists. The ballerinas are wearing long romantic red and black skirts with silver tulle, while their partners were all in black (costumes designed by frequent Balanchine collaborator Barbara Karinska). A couple (Daria Pavlenko, Ilya Kuznetsov) finds happiness with each other in a waltz until an outsider (a figure invoking Death) intrudes, charming, seducing, misguiding the girl into a final waltz that costs her her life. The corps de ballet was superb in this magnificent dramatic spectacle. Daria Pavlenko, one of the company’s truly outstanding principals, danced with a gentle, ethereal grace. (She can be seen in Washington dancing Giselle at the Kennedy Center on June 16.)

Set to Tchaikovsky’s second piano concerto and coming after the darkness of La Valse, Ballet Imperial is a relief and lifts the spirits. This homage to imperial St. Petersburg and its Grand Imperial Ballet presents Balanchine’s choreography at its best. The company’s star, Uliana Lopatkina, danced the leading role of the Queen, while Irina Golub was the Crown Princess. Watching Lopatkina dance effortlessly, it was hard to believe that she was dealing with the most challenging and technically demanding choreography in Balanchine’s repertory. The ensemble performed brilliantly, proving time and again what the Mariinsky Ballet is rightly famous for – its Grand Imperial Corps de Ballet.

This month the Kirov (Mariinsky) Ballet is coming to Washington, D.C., where it will present a program titled “William Forsythe Masterworks” (June 13 – 15) and the ever popular Giselle (June 16 - 18) in the Kennedy Center Opera House.