Perkovsky in reviews Arnautova in reviews recent Stanislavsky reviews Jeffery Taylor reviews Web version held on Ballet.co by kind permission of Jeffery Taylor and the Sunday Express Express Website

But grinding poverty still grips whole sectors of the former Soviet Union. And Russian dancers , once considered society’s elite with all the privileges of Party alongside the country’s leaders, are now discovering legends do not pay the bills. “In the market economy the government no longer throws large subsidies at the Russian ballet,” says Denis Perkovsky, 22, a soloist with the Moscow Stanislavsky Ballet, opening next week on London’s South Bank with a new production of The Nutcracker followed by Swan Lake. “We are living at subsistence level.” Then adds, “and we are the lucky ones.” Perkovsky shares a company owned flat with girlfriend of three years, Ukrainian born Hanna Arnautova, 24, and two other couples. “We earn enough to cover the bills each month, and that’s it.”

The couple live an hour’s drive from the city centre in a brand new high rise suburban wasteland called Liublino. The view from the 7th floor balcony of No 9, Bratislavskaya Street is a panorama of brand new pink and cream concrete. Inside is communal living of medieval intensity. The average size kitchen is shared by all, as is the tiny bathroom and even smaller toilet. A couple each occupies one of the three remaining living rooms and the walls feel like cardboard. Perkovsky and Arnautova’s is the smallest, and most touching in its aspirations to glossy magazine décor with taup walls and white gossamer drapes at the window, cream quilted throw on the bed and an unplugged television set crowning an empty bookshelf. It is a room designed by penniless dreamers.

“It is quite merry living here with our colleaugues from the company,” remarks a fiercely cheerful Hanna, as chain smoking dancers slope in and out of the kitchen to listen in. So much for privacy. “The Moscow council is building a whole block of flats for the company nearby,” she goes on, “and we hope to get one of those. There’s no way we could afford the £25,000 to buy it.”

When it is pointed out that a couple of young dancers in London with similar three year professional experience, would by now have bought themselves a small but smart flat, perhaps in Fulham or Putney, at least one car to go with it and if not already nursing their first child, would certainly be planning her or him, Perkovsky replies with a weary grin. “We just dream about that sort of life,” he admits. “It’s very difficult to save money in Russia. We live on the brink of poverty and have no way of saving for the luxuries in life that English dancers accept as normal. Nor do we have mortgages like you do in the West. We earn the minimum to pay for the essentials like food and rent, sometimes we struggle even to pay for a cinema, serious merchandise is out of the question.” And this thoughtful young man continues, “I definitely want my own family and parents should be young for their children, but how could I provide a home and security now?”

A comparison of basic earnings between Moscow and London reveal the shocking truth about the young dancer’s lifestyle. Perkovsky and Hanna earn a combined basic monthly income of £434, less than an eighth of the £4.000 per month on average a couple of British dancers of the same rank could earn. And while their subsidised rent is a mere £14.50p, plus gas and electricity, they must find travel costs, food and practise clothes from an income depleted by a 12.1/2% annual rate of inflation. “I never buy my clothes in Moscow,” Hanna points out, “I wait until I go home to Kiev where everything is cheaper, like this outfit.” She is wearing a figure hugging white bodice and tight ski pants which perfectly show off her dancer’s figure and dark colouring. I did not have the heart to tell her that the Royal Ballet’s Darcey Bussell only wears Mulberry, Tamara Rojo sticks to Versace, while Armani and Dolce e Gabbana are favourites among the company’s younger set.

“We are not experiencing many of the good things in life at the moment and we are afraid our youth will disappear before we can,” observes Perkovsky. “Our theatre and company is superb,” agrees Hanna, “but the salaries are just not good enough. Life’s too basic.”

The trouble is the couple passionately believe Russian ballet is the best in the world. “I have found myself through ballet,” says Denis. “It’s what I do best in life.” “Me too,” chips in Hanna. “You can only find yourself as a man and an artist through work, and my work is ballet. But it is terrible,” he continues, “to feel time slipping past, years that nothing can bring back.” So poverty imposes severe strains on this young couple, dedicated not only to their art but also to a full life together. Could lucrative offers from foreign companies lure them from their homeland? Slowly and sadly Denis nods in agreement, “Possibly,” he murmurs, “circumstances could force us to do something irrevocable.” If the worst happened, Russia’s loss would be the rest of the world’s gain.