Deep in the Heart of Russia: The Perm Ballet

Deep in the Heart of Russia: The Perm Ballet and The Fountain of Bakhchisarai  

~by Paul Gerberding, April 2019

Forget for a moment, if you will, all the troubles of the world today, and focus on the matters of the heart, for therein lies the grace of existence as well as the hope of mankind. There is a universal need for transcendence beyond the ordinary and mundane – in fact, our very survival depends on it. For it is in the creative realms of the imagination, the arts, that our true identity resides. Like a subterranean aquifer that gently gurgles forth as freshwater springs, the source of invention and originality runs like a river though the spirit of all of us, and issues forth through the artists of this world. 

The good news is that if one knows where to look, the limitless potential and boundless beauty of artistic genius is alive and well. Deep in the heart of Russia last weekend, a miraculous nexus of performing and literary arts came to life beneath the muse-gilt ceiling of the majestic Perm Ballet Theater. In two successive evenings, the torrents of a tumultuous history rose to the surface in a swirling confluence of artistic traditions. And to the brimming delight of the sold out house, the sweat and tears of a small but mighty ballet troupe were distilled into two sublime evenings of classical dance, flooding the senses, cleansing the soul, and exalting the human condition to its rightful place at the pinnacle of all things good and right. 

Russia has long been revered as a treasure trove of masterpieces in both the literary and the performing arts. The irrepressible voice of this exotic land is borne of hardship, and tempered by the indomitability of the Russian spirit, and can still be clearly heard animating the halls of classical dance, where it still rings forth brightly and true. A perfect example of this fact is Perm’s rendition of The Fountain of Bakhchisirai, a choreographic poem and the first in the genre of dram ballet developed in the 1930’s. The libretto is based on a written poem of the same name, penned in 1824, by the most revered father of Russian literature, Alexander Pushkin. It is work of grace, and a living testament to the extent this country has gone to not only keep classical ballet alive, but to be the unrivaled masters of the art form. 

Pushkin’s epic poem, meticulously constructed in strands of melodious verse, weaves the tapestry of those dark and ancient times when swarthy Tatar invaders from the East roamed wantonly over the lands, wreaking war, reshaping history, and shattering lives across the Eurasian Steppe. Set to dance, the palace intrigue, sword fights, gallantry and deception, not to mention splendid array of harem dwellers and warriors, make for a larger-than life spectacle, and an evening of spellbinding drama.

Love’s cruel ironies abound in this woeful tale. The timeless and contrasting themes of unrequited love and jealousy cast over the backdrop of true love and unflagging fidelity are masterfully layered throughout, and provide a rich basis for the acting that accompanies the dance steps all the way through. The supreme Caliph Giray, already doted upon by a pair of lovely, albeit conflictual wives, and sire to a harem young and nubile concubines, finds himself desperate and completely impotent in his quest to win the love of Maria, whom his army has recently kidnapped in a midnight raid. Maria, a stunning and virtuous beauty, is herself locked in insurmountable sorrow over the murder of her betrothed, who died defending her honor at the hands of her newfound captor, the heartless sultan. Rounding out the love triangle is Zarema, the Khan’s first wife, rendered all but invisible by the unexpected appearance of this young, beguilingly alluring spoil of war. 

They sing, but-where, alas! is Zarem,

Love’s star, the glory of the harem?

Pallid and sad no praise she hears,

Deaf to all sound of joy her ears,

Downcast with grief, her youthful form

Yields like the palm tree to the storm,

Fair Zarem’s dreams of bliss are o’er,

Her loved Giray loves her no more!

~ excerpt from The Fountain of Bakhchisarai, by Alexander Pushkin, 1824

The cast of course is key, and imbues each ballet performance with its own distinct character. The principals, the soloists, and the corps each uphold equally crucial aspects of the structure, and share in the overall success. The lead roles of Maria and her beloved Vlatsev were executed extremely well both Saturday and Sunday evenings, each with its own very distinct character. The balletomane is always cognizant of when their favorite dancers are on stage, and always strives to procure tickets for those nights. 

Saturday’s version featured two supreme guest stars from the Mariinsky Theater, both of whom graced the stage with that timeless virtuosity of their Vaganova schooling. The effortless power and soaring surety of Vladimir Shklyarov, coupled with Maria Shirinkina’s demure and flawless movements bedazzled the crowd  (not to mention the awestruck dancers gazing inward from the wings). Sunday’s stage was owned by Perm’s homegrown talents of Pavel Savin and Daria Tikhonova, who delivered a more gutsy, raw and thus an even more poignant and believable rendition of the star-crossed, ill-fated duo. 

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Mr. Savin, only 21 yet oozing with poise (who confided in me before Sunday’s show he knew he had big shoes to fill in following Shklyarov), took the stage with that brandishing flourish only accessible by means of the vigor of youth, and never relinquished command until his character’s untimely demise at the end of the first act. His energy is one of freshness and vibrance, and his portrayal of Vlatsev is simply a shimmering mirror reflection of his own sincerity and courage. It’s really no wonder the final sword duel, wherein he finally succumbs to Fate, was fraught with suspense and heroics. The calamity of his demise pierced the heart of every soul in the theater as he crumbled to the ground, for no one is ever ready for the worthy and good to perish. I remain humbled by my interview with Mr. Savin, a true son of the Russian Motherland, more than happy to make the enormous sacrifices required to hone his skills, purely for the pleasure of the people.

Perm Ballet is rated as Russia’s third finest company, behind only the giants of the trade, the Mariinsky and Bolshoi Theaters. That such a deep tradition, rooted in the bedrock of of the centuries, exists way out here, so far removed from the tourist industry that drives the other two leading companies is nothing short of miraculous. But it is not a mystery. This ballet has its own ballet academy with a history that dates back more than two centuries. The lynchpin to it all, of course, is the Perm Opera and Theater, built in the style of Late Russian classicism. It is a sublimely elegant piece of architecture that bedazzles immediately upon entry: the lobby is defined by an emerald green colonnade, curving away in both directions and spilling into red carpeted foyers and majestic white marble staircases on either side. A world class home for a world class ballet, it represents the heart of the city of Perm.

The pool of talent is deep here, and as is the case in the Bolshoi and Mariinsky, the Perm Corps de Ballet is stacked with professionals who have mastered the art of moving in unison. In fact, the ballet roots are so deep here, a particular style has developed over the ages – a fusion of the original ways imported from Saint Petersburg, then later infused with the more daring Muscovite flavor. The phenomenon wherein all the dancers move as if they are part and parcel of the same organism, each member being engrained in one specific style, is supremely rare in the world of ballet, and undeniably a major player in Perm’s magic.

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“Danse, cher corps. . . . Ne pense pas!” 

~from Valéry’s poem “Ébauche d’un Serpent”

One of the exciting aspects of ballet as an art form is that quite often an unsung hero emerges from the ranks, who matches, or even outshines the lead soloists. This was certainly the case the first evening, as Larisa Moskalenko, playing Zarema, the jealous wife of the Khan, stole the show right out from under the visiting stars. In the original poem Zarema is a peerless beauty in her own right, faithful to the core, who try as she might, is simply unable to regain the eye of the lovestruck Giray. Zarema serves as keystone to the plot, and Miss Moskalenko more than delivered on the bargain.

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To capture the lengths to which Zarema must ply her feminine allure the choreography digs deep into the idiom of classical ballet. The demands on the dancer are considerable to say the least, and Larisa certainly proved herself up to the task, both regal in bearing, and ravishingly libidinous and carnal. Every sequence is a chain reaction, heightening in intensity and replete with serpentine twists, seductive arcs, and liquid desire. And as the once favored wife’s pleas for attention continue to fall on the deaf ears of the brooding Giray, the dance evolves into an athletic tour de force, a frenzy of grand jetés and firebird leaps (grand pas de chat, stylized), that eventually spiral Zarema into the abyss of madness, driving her to murder the poor and unsuspecting Maria in the chamber where she sleeps.

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Miss Moskalenko deserves recognition for her powerful performances. For starters, she is the physical embodiment of Aphrodite herself, and so was perfectly cast in this volatile and provocative role. There is nothing in this world akin to the exact second a gifted ballerina sets foot on stage – times stands still all that remains is the exquisite primal truth that beauty and truth will forevermore prevail. Rest assured, anyone with a beating heart that evening in the Perm Opera and Ballet Theater rejoiced in the knowledge that the sacred feminine still stalks the planet. Once again Russia, whose reputation (not to mention basic survival through the millennia) is staked on the quality of it women, finds a way to express its genius in this regard.

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The Khan played the classic fool (it’s hard to imagine the depths of dismay his grief must travel upon realizing his colossal blunder), trading the most excellent and known quanitity for the dream of a mirage. Bereft of purpose, confronting the Fount of Tears in the final scene, Giray is visited by the ghosts of both Maria, and Zarema in succession. The uncanny balletic maneuver of a rapid array of small steps en pointe creates the illusion of floating across the stage, and serve as Maria’s the final escape from the Khan and his dream.

Still do the gurgling waters pour

Their streams dispensing sadness round,

As mothers weep for sons no more,

In never-ending worries drowned. 

IN morn fair maids, (and twilight late,)

Roam where this monument appears

An pitying poor Maria’s fate

Entitle it the FOUNT OF TEARS!

~ excerpt from The Fountain of Bakhchisarai, by Alexander Pushkin, 1824

The history of Russia doesn’t exactly read like a fairy tale either. But such is the fertile soil from which the most profoundly beautiful art is sown. It’s no secret that the canon of classical Russian literature and music have taken their cues from the centuries of hardships this land has known, and in turn have given the world many unparalleled expressions of the human condition.The balletic version of The Fountain of Bakhchisirai certainly meets this standard, and is simply a celebration of the creative cauldron of talent at work in Leningrad in the 1930’s – a nexus of the dominant artistic forces of the era. A 27 year-old prodigy of choreography by the name of Rostislav Zhakharov alongside the composer Boris Asaviev answered the call to produce a new ballet for the times, and thanks to the brilliance of theaters like Perm’s, it endures as timeless gem in the repertory of Russian ballet.

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Is it not a phenomenal event, that the collective undiscovered genius of a a few gentlemen in Leningrad 80 years ago, dedicated to the practice of their respective art, armed only with a poem from 100 years older than them, continues to inspire, captivate, and amaze the viewer? Not at all, for this is who we are – we thirst for any connection we can to the source of our being. Like a cool spring brings hope and life to a desert oasis, the Perm Ballet gives hope in times that so desperately need it. For the ballet enthusiast, a visit to the Perm Ballet is the discovery of a hidden treasure – long rumored to be real, but only believable upon first hand knowledge. 

Lift the veil of time and distance, and take a seat on the banks of this river. Breathe freely of the this crisp northern air and bask in the same starlit sky that kindled the undying love of Maria and Vlatsev. Peer closely into these flowing waters and behold, for here you will find the the essence of every human soul.