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![]() July 2003 London, Covent Garden © Jeffery Taylor Former dancer, Critic and an Arts feature writer for the |
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Apart from sensational dancing in its first of a 4 week season, St Petersburg's Kirov Ballet has shown us in two easy, and sensational, lessons, how to look after a heritage. First of all, how do you make a work like the 1856 Le Corsaire, creaking through fantasy land, a cross between a court entertainment and an academic showcase for a couple of hundred Imperial dancers, relevant to a sophisticated 21st century audience? The Kirov's answer is to stick tongue firmly in cheek, add colourful new costumes (Galina Solovyova), even more dazzling sets (Telmuraz Murvanidze) and make sure the steps are performed as choreographer Marius Petipa intended, pure and classical. You end up with historic art as fun a combination irresistible even to the coolest cynic. The youthful Anton Korsakov provided most of the humour last Monday as the luckless, but ever hopeful slave trader, Lankadem, whose dastardly trade provides hero Conrad (Vladimir Shishov) with numerous opportunities to rescue damsels in distress, chief of whom is Medora (Svetlana Zakharova). Zakharova goes from Greek beauty to great ballerina via seductive mistress and centre piece of a fountain filled garden brought to life. But all that really matters is that she proves in the role of Medora that she is, indeed a great ballerina. Zakharova's technique is as near perfect as any hopeful young dancer could possibly wish to aspire to, coupled to intelligence, enthusiasm and an infectious delight in her own achievements.
![]() © Robbie Jack
The second master class in keeping museum pieces vital is the company's Swan Lake. First seen in its present form in 1895, the Kirov's current production of the world's favourite ballet dates from 1950 and today is as ravishing and as deeply satisfying to watch as choreographer Petipa could have wished over a century ago. Elegance, good taste, the knowledge that less is best is all there in the muted palette of russets, mushroom pinks and dull lilacs costumes. The stage is left uncluttered by bodies and scenery and every step from every dancer is relentlessly open to scrutiny. And what dancers. The familiar story to Tchaikovsky’s glorious score gently unfolds with no flashy overtones, even less pushy acting – the whole notion of go out and sell it is apparently absent. The whole edifice seems to be built on each dancer’s individual belief in their art form and the care and value for each step they perform. Korsakov is serious, youthful and brilliant as an Act I courtier, while Igor Zelensky as Siegfried, though appearing out of practise last Thursday, now carries an hypnotic stage presence.
![]() © Natasha Razina
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