^{*All pre-1918 dates are given in Old Style (Julian Calendar dates)}

After the square in Barcelona, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza’s next stop in their journey is in the Spanish countryside where they encounter the camp of a troupe of wandering actors.

Act 2, scene 1 - The Troupe of Wandering Actors

The 1869 libretto for Act 2, scene 1 opens with the following lines:

A clearing; in the distance windmills; roads passing through at right and left. Bushes, hills, and piles of rocks; a cave, the entrance to which is overgrown with plants. The stopping place of a company of itinerant actors. A king, queen, princess, young lover, [and] a court jester adorned with little bells and holding a wand, at the end of which hang bulls’ bladders inflated with air. Gypsy men and women, the actor who manipulates the marionettes, etc. etc.

They are all lying down, sprawled about the cave around the campfire, above which, from a tripod, a cauldron hangs with food cooking in it. The travelling company’s dinner is coming to an end. At the entrance to the cave, a pole with a flag is stuck into a pile of rocks. An inscription on the flag reads:

‘The Company of the Celebrated Angelo will perform the comedy, “Crafty”, which will explain how the knight Don Haiferos frees his beloved Melitandra, who is a prisoner of the Moors.’

Various theatre accessories are set up on the grass. The young lover tucks in a piece of cheese, the devil is busy with his soup, the queen is darning the king’s pantaloons.

Kitri appears, disguised as a boy; she has run away from home to avoid marrying Gamache. She approaches the actors, explaining she has lost her way and is looking for the nearest inn. However, the impresario soon realises that she is a woman and sees an opportunity to augment his personnel. He decides that Kitri will perform with their troupe in a nearby village and the poor girl is drawn into their cave against her will and made to wear a dancer’s costume.

As she does so, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza appear and the Don is fascinated by the actors, taking them as a great king and his retinue, while Sancho is taken by the cauldron from which a delicious aroma is rising. Don Quixote bows to the king and queen.

The actors present a divertissement of dances, in which Kitri takes part, followed by a marionette play that tells the tale of the knight Don Haizeros and his quest to rescue his beloved Melisandra from the Moors. However, Don Quixote takes the puppets for real and rushes towards to the theatre, hacking it to pieces and destroying the dolls. At that moment, the moon rises in the form of a woman’s head and it reminds Don Quixote of the melancholy Dulcinea. He claims to feel her bitterness and the moon begins to cry. He would stay her tears, claiming his quest for glory is all for her her, whereupon the moon smiles. He promises to place laurels at her feet and the moon laughs. Delighted by her laughter, he kneels before her.

The moon vanishes behind the clouds and noticing the windmills, Don Quixote takes them for ferocious giants poised to attack Dulcinea. Sancho tries in vain to restrain his master, assuring him they are nothing more than windmills. But Don Quixote, armed with his lance and shield, charges at the windmills and attacks them. One of the windmill’s wings catches him and throws him into the air; another throws back Sancho, who rushes to his master’s aid. The actors crowd around the mad knight, demanding payment for their damaged property. Kitri seizes the chaos as a chance to escape and flees unnoticed just as Gamache and Lorenzo arrive with their servants, searching for her. They ask the actors if a young woman has passed by, but the troupe claims nobody of her description has come along the road at this time. The two men continue on their journey.

Act 2, scene 2 - A Room in an Inn

“A large room in an inn. In the distance an entrance door; at the right the door to an interior room; at the left a door into the garden. Tables, benches, etc.

Peasant men and women, mule drivers and their wives have gathered for a celebration. Overcoats hang from the men’s arms, the women enter with flowers, bouquets and myrtle branches. Before the celebration the innkeeper and his serving girl, at the mule drivers’ order, bring out bottles of wine. Dances begin to the sound of castanets, accompanied by the clinking of glasses.”1

Kitri arrives at the height of merriment and begs for refuge to hide her from Lorenzo and Gamache. Juanita the flower seller recognises her and Kitri falls at her feet in front of a statue, begging for help. Juanita consults with her friends and they hide Kitri by covering her with flowers and bouquets. Some of the girls encircle the improvised array of Kitri’s refuge, while others continue to dance or give the appearance that they are weaving wreaths and garlands.

Their dance is interrupted by the entrance of Gamache and Lorenzo, who ask the innkeeper if he has seen a young girl, a traveller. He says he has seen no young girl matching Kitri’s description and they search in the other rooms. Juanita resumes the dance. After failed searches, Gamache and Lorenzo return to the main room and are delighted by Juanita’s graceful and seductive dances. Gamache gives her some money, and in gratitude, she gives him a bouquet. At Juanita’s suggestion, Gamache adds the bouquet to the flower array adorning the statue, unaware that Kitri is hidden within. Accompanied by Lorenzo, he retires.

Thinking she is now safe, Kitri emerges from her flowery shelter. Everyone present is happy at her deliverance from Gamache’s pursuit; they congratulate her and drink to her health. Kitri joins in the dancing. Afterwards, the guests leave, but suddenly, the door opens and Lorenzo and Gamache run in. Catching Kitri off guard, they grab the poor frightened girl and carry her off.

Differences between the original and modern productions

The original layout of Act 2 differs from most, if not all, of today’s productions. In many productions, the first scene of Act 2 is the camp of the troupe of wandering actors (or the gypsy camp), but the scene inside the inn (or the tavern) commonly takes place after the Dream scene. Most productions use Don Quixote getting injured by the windmills as the lead-in to the Dream scene. Neither Petipa’s original or revised productions used this order. There are also many key differences between the original camp and inn scenes from what is known today.

The Camp scene

Many modern productions retain Kitri encountering the camp, the marionette theatre, its destruction by Don Quixote and Don Quixote attacking the windmills. The key differences are that today, Kitri does not run away on her own, but with Basilio; she does not disguise herself as a boy and she is not forced to join the troupe. However, in Rudolf Nureyev’s production for the Paris Opéra Ballet, Kitri and Basilio, with help from the gypsies, disguise themselves and join in the gypsy dances to avoid being recognised by Gamache, who has followed them. Basilio then unveils himself to his rival at the end of the scene.

The original libretto and music score teaches us that some of the camp scene’s original dances are unknown today. Today’s dances are the two gypsy dances and the number performed by the marionette puppets2, but the original dances were a gypsy dance and a classical pas entitled La chasse aux alouettes.

Gypsy Dance

The gypsy dance was a bolero-style number performed by male and female dancers, but it was not one of the two gypsy dances that are performed today. According Anna Grutsynova, who studied and analysed the 1869 score:

“the first of these [divertissements] (No. 2) was a unique gypsy dance, framed by a theme of moderate movement but with a sharp rhythm and unexpected accents (the rhythm of its accompaniment, although in two beats, was reminiscent of a bolero). In the middle, the dance became livelier, acquiring scope and activity.

If we analyze the notes made in the repetiteur and related to productions of different times (both 1869 and later), we can conclude that, despite the musical unity of the number, it could really give the audience the impression of a “varied divertissement of dances” (its relatively slow theme was given to the dancers, and the faster and more energetic fragments to the male dancers).”3

Today, the two gypsy dances are simply known as “Gypsy Dance I” and “Gypsy Dance II”, but neither of which are from the original 1869 production and only one was composed by Minkus. “Gypsy Dance I” was composed by Petipa and Minkus as part of a new divertissement for the camp scene in the 1871 production. Its original title is “La Chica” and it was first performed by the ballerina Lyubov Radina, for whom it was intended4. “Gypsy Dance II” is set to music by the composer Valery Zhelobinsky and was added to the ballet in a new production staged at the Bolshoi Theatre by Rostislav Zakharov, which premièred on the 10th February 1940. This gypsy dance was originally choreographed by Kasyan Goleizovsky.5

La chasse aux alouettes

The second number was one that is unknown today - a classical pas entitled the La chasse aux alouettes (The Lark Hunt), performed by Kitri.

La chasse aux alouettes was set to music not by Ludwig Minkus, but by Daniel Auber, arranged by Cesare Pugni. It was originally choreographed by Petipa for the then-student Alexandra Vergina6 for a celebration of the Life Guards Hussars Regiment at Tsarskelo Selo on the 27^th April 18687. It was added to Don Quixote solely for Anna Sobeshchanskaya since the ballet was created for her benefit and was never included in the original score. How Sobeshchanskaya came to know the piece is unknown, but whatever those circumstances were, she clearly liked it enough to want to dance it in Don Quixote. Its purpose was to grant the benefit artist a classical pas in a ballet that was mostly dominated by character dance and it was one of the ballet’s most well-received dances.

Though this alouettes pas did not survive, 31 years later, Petipa would create another La chasse aux alouettes for Act 2 of his comic ballet Harlequinade (Les millions d’Arlequin), composed by Riccardo Drigo.

The Crying and Smiling Moon

While Don Quixote’s attack on the windmills is retained, one significant element that is absent in many modern productions is the crying and smiling moon. The only production today known to have restored this special effect is Alexei Ratmansky’s production for the Dutch National Ballet.

The special effects by Karl Valts for the crying and laughing moon were among the most well-received elements of the original production:

Also excellent is the decoration, ‘The Crying and Smiling Moon’; in the background before the spectator suddenly appears the beautiful woman in the night—this would still be nothing—but she begins to cry, tears flow down from her eyes, but then she takes it upon herself to laugh, and her good-natured merriment is transmitted to the parterre [VG 16^th December 1869]8

The purpose of this special effect is that it is what motivates Don Quixote to attack the windmills. Many productions state that he simply thinks the moon is Dulcinea and it is true that in the novel, he simply mistakes 30-40 windmills for ferocious giants. But Petipa and Minkus added more depth to the scene by having Don Quixote envisioning Dulcinea’s face in the moon. She even interacts with him crying, then smiling and laughing. Though his actions may be deluded and even mad, this inclusion gives Don Quixote a strong motive to attack the “giants”, as he believes the windmills to be, proving he is willing to protect his lady love at all costs, even if it is all a delusion and/or fantasy. In many ways, it makes the Don more sympathetic amidst all the comedy and chaos.

The Inn (aka The Tavern)

The inn or tavern scene is one of the scenes in the whole ballet that has undergone the most change since 1869. The story is practically absent and there is more focus on dance, but in Petipa’s original, the focus was Kitri’s fleeing from her father and her unwanted suitor. The little excerpts of story that today’s stagings retain include Lorenzo and Gamache catching up with Kitri and Basilio in the tavern and Basilio’s mock suicide where, with help from Kitri, he stages an act where he pretends to stab himself to trick Lorenzo into blessing their union. Although this does not follow the 1869 production, it follows the 1871 production in most respects (more information later).

Throughout the 20^th century, as the story was continuously sacrificed in favour of dances, new music and dance numbers were added to the inn/tavern scene by several composers. In his 1940 Bolshoi production, Rostislav Zahkarov introduced new music by the composer Vassily Soloviev-Sedoy - the introduction to the inn/tavern scene and the dances “Carmencita” and the “Sailors’ Jig”. In 1942, a new solo dance for the espada was added to music by the composer Reinhold Glière9, but, originally, the espada did not appear in the inn/tavern scene.

An original dance from the inn scene was a gypsy dance entitled the “Zingara”, as described in a review from 1869:

... the ‘Zingara’ (that is, Gypsy Dance) is performed by Miss Karpakova 2, Mr Nikitin and Mr Ermolov. There is something kindred in this gifted dancer which recalls her elder sister [Pelageya Karpakova], and therefore if you compare her with our other beautiful soloists, you will find in her that which they lack. The ‘Zingara’ is a very fine dance and was performed irreproachably both by Miss Karpakova 2 and her two cavaliers [VG 16^th December 1869]

Mercedes

Perhaps one of the most famous numbers in the inn/tavern scene is the dance of the character Mercedes, but no such character existed in Petipa’s Don Quixote. Mercedes was created and added by Alexander Gorsky in his 1900 production and the music for her dance is by Anton Simon.

There is also some confusion regarding her identity. It is widely thought that she is the Street Dancer from Act 1 because the roles of Mercedes and the Street Dancer are sometimes performed by the same dancer (and they both know the espada very well). This has led many to assume that Mercedes and the Street Dancer are the same character.

What many may not know is that in the 1900 première of Gorsky’s production, the two roles were danced by the same dancer, Sofia Fyodorova. But in Gorsky’s 1902 Saint Petersburg première, they were danced by two different dancers – the Street Dancer was danced by Olga Preobrazhenskaya and Mercedes was danced by Marie Petipa. But after the Saint Petersburg première, Marie Petipa was kicked out of the role of Mercedes and was transferred to the Fandango of the final act10. Preobrazhenskaya would follow the original concept from Moscow by dancing both the Street Dancer and Mercedes in a single performance. A review published on the 29^th January 1902 reads,

“… O. I. Preobrazhenskaya, who had to repeat her magnificently performed toreador dance in the first scene, and Mercedes’s dance in the second.”11

According to Bolshoi soloist Natalia Ryzhenko,12 the role of Mercedes was intended for the Prima Ballerina Ekaterina Geltser, but Geltser never performed it. If Ryzhenko is correct, then perhaps it was Gorsky’s initial intention for the two roles to be danced by separate dancers. Perhaps Geltser withdrew at the last minute and Fyodorova had learned both roles, so Gorsky decided when he was pushed for time to give the two roles to one dancer?

Whatever happened, it seems that Gorsky originally presented the Street Dancer and Mercedes as a dual role for one dancer rather than making them the same character, while also keeping on the table the option for them to be danced by two different dancers. Overtime, some post-Gorsky productions, especially in the west, would merge the characters into one, for example, Mikhail Baryshnikov’s production for American Ballet Theatre and Carlos Acosta’s production for the Royal Ballet. Interestingly, in Acosta’s production, Mercedes’s dance to Simon’s music is omitted. Instead, she performs another, very brief table dance with Kitri to a shortened version of the music “Carmencita” by Soloviev-Sedoy.

In regard to the narrative of the second scene, the important pantomime/action scenes where Juanita and her friends hide Kitri in a flowers display; the entrance of Lorenzo and Gamache; Juanita distracting Gamache with her dancing and a bouquet of flowers were not retained in modern productions. In many modern productions, Kitri and Basilio dance as soon as they enter and neither of them ask anyone for help. In the 1869 production, there was an opening dance that was performed by those already present in the inn, described in the libretto as dancing “to castanets accompanied by the clinking of glasses”.

It was after the opening dance that Kitri entered, seeking help and shelter, and she did not dance until after Lorenzo and Gamache had left, when she knew, or thought, it was safe to come out from hiding. Today’s Kitri and Basilio seem to have very quickly forgotten that they’re on the run, but clearly dancing and drinking with their friends is more important than getting away… or having a well thought out plan…

However, the biggest difference between the original inn/tavern scene and today’s productions is that today, this is the scene that includes Basilio’s mock suicide, but in the 1869 production, this happened in the final act. Basilio never appeared in the second act; Don Quixote and Sancho Panza did not appear in the inn/tavern scene, and the second act did not end in victory for Kitri and Basilio. Instead, it ended with something of a defeat for Kitri as she was caught by those who had been chasing her.

To be continued in Part 3

Sources

• Roland John Wiley, The Petersburg Noverre: Marius Petipa in Russia (2022), Anthem Press, United States

• Балеты М.И. ПЕТИПА в Москве (2018), Сост. М.К. Леонова, Ю.П. Бурлака. – М.: Прогресс-Традиция, Москве (Ballets of M.I. PETIPA in Moscow (2018), Comp. M.K. Leonova, Yu.P. Burlaka. – M.: Progress-Tradition, Moscow)

• Simon Morrison, Bolshoi Confidential: Secrets of the Russian Ballet from the Rule of the Tsars to Today (2016), 4th Estate, London, United Kingdom

• Nadine Meisner, Marius Petipa: The Emperor’s Ballet Master (2019), New York City, US: Oxford University Press

• Marius Petipa, Russian Ballet Master: The Memoirs of Marius Petipa. Translated ed. by Helen Whittaker, introduction and edited by Lillian Moore. London, UK: Dance Books Ltd (1958)

• Peter Koppers, Gorsky and St Petersburg - Substack: Essays on the Imperial Ballet (2025)

• Ludwig Minkus, Don Quixote: Ballet in Three Acts (1982), State Publishers Music, Moscow

• Sergey Belenky

• Juan Bockamp

• Andrew Fosters

• Robert Greskovic

• Alan Jones

^{*All pre-1918 Dates are given in Old Style (Julian Calendar dates).}

One of the most popular ballets in today’s repertoire is Don Quixote, the Spanish-flavoured fiasco set in Spain. Loosely based on the novel by Miguel Cervantes, Don Quijote de la Mancha, the ballet follows the adventures of the deluded, would-be chivalric knight Don Quixote.

The ballet was originally choreographed by Marius Petipa in not one, but two versions. The original version was staged for the Imperial Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow in 1869 and the second version was staged for the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg in 1871. Many productions credit the choreography as “after Marius Petipa” and/or credit Petipa as the original choreographer, except this is only half true. Every modern production performed today derives not from Petipa’s productions, but from those of Alexander Gorsky, staged in Moscow in 1900 and in Saint Petersburg in 1902 respectively. The music score was composed by Ludwig Minkus, but the music used today is not 100% Minkus because it contains various numbers by other composers that were added in and after 1900.

The truth is getting the credits 100% correct for Don Quixote is complex. Since the early 20^th century, the ballet has undergone multiple revisions with its choreography, music score and, perhaps more importantly, the libretto being heavily revised as it was passed through generations of ballet masters and mistresses who added their own touches and continued to erroneously credit Petipa. But the Don Quixote widely known today is not that of Petipa, nor is it “after Petipa”. Rather, it is a mishmash of various Soviet/Russian Ballet Masters including Fyodor Lopukhov, Agrippina Vaganova, Pyotr Gusev and Asaf Messerer (to name a few) after Gorsky, yet, some productions never credit Gorsky. The term “After Petipa” is misleading because many scholars agree that Petipa’s choreography is unfortunately lost and it appears that Gorsky choreographed the ballet anew in his own design.

So what is Petipa’s Don Quixote? Was it similar or very different to what is known today? What did he and Minkus create and what changed? This multiple part essay will look into the history of Don Quixote by analysing the librettos and eye witness accounts to find what Petipa and Minkus originally created in 1869, what they revised and changed in 1871; how the two versions differed from each other and how they differ from what is known today.

Don Quixote 1869

The first production

Don Quixote was adapted for the stage by Petipa and Minkus when the former was temporarily sent to Moscow where the ballet of the Imperial Bolshoi Theatre was in a somewhat neglected state, not in the least because it lacked a permanent ballet master. Although there were suggestions of Petipa being permanently transferred to the old Russian capital, this never happened, officially due to financial reasons, but also because Petipa resisted such a move. A permanent residency in Moscow was not on his agenda and he was not about to forfeit his ambition of becoming first ballet master in Saint Petersburg, where ballet was flourishing. Instead, he divided his time between the two cities from 1869 to 1872, during which he refurbished the Moscow repertoire by staging several of his ballets at the Bolshoi Theatre and created two new ballets - Don Quixote (1869) and Trilby (1870).

The first mention of Don Quixote appeared in an article in the Moscow press on the 14^th September 1869 when the death of celebrated Bolshoi Theatre machinist Fyodor Valts was announced and rehearsals had begun by the 5^th October. It seems that Petipa had intended for Cesare Pugni to be the composer, but Pugni had fallen on very hard times. A genius ballet composer he was, having composed 311 ballet scores that contained some of the finest ballet music. But behind the scenes of Pugni’s successful career was a dark story of a man who struggled with alcoholism, depression, gambling addiction and too big of a weakness for women. By 1869, he had become ever more unreliable, failing to meet deadlines and making countless excuses for not delivering on his services.

However, it seems that, despite his difficulties, Pugni managed to compose at least several pieces for Don Quixote, but it soon became clear that Petipa needed to find another composer. Enter Minkus, who had composed four ballets for Petipa’s rival Arthur Saint-Léon – Fiametta, La Source (co-composed with Leo Delibes), The Golden Fish and The Lily, which premièred one month in Saint Petersburg before Don Quixote. With very few options, Petipa had found a new collaborator and the role of composer for Don Quixote was given to Minkus.

Some details that remain unknown include why Cervantes’s Don Quijote de La Mancha was the chosen subject for Petipa’s new ballet. Who chose the subject? Was it Petipa or the Imperial Theatres directorate? The novel was published in the 17^th century and is one of the most famous pieces of Spanish and western literature; Spain and its culture were one of the trends of the 19^th century. The novel had been adapted into a ballet on several occasions in the west and once before in Russia either by Charles Didelot for the Saint Petersburg Imperial Theatre in 1808.

So, was the choice of subject more about Spain than Cervantes’s novel? Or was it a combination of both? Petipa had worked and lived in Spain for three years before he went to Russia, where he learned a great deal about Spanish dance and culture. He obviously read Don Quijote de La Mancha, was it one of his favourite books? Was this simply a case of a choreographer wanting to make a ballet adaptation of one of his favourite novels? Or was it someone else who wanted a ballet adaptation of one of their favourite books? So many questions with little to no answers. Whatever the reason for why it was chosen, Don Quixote was to be Petipa’s next new ballet.

The original cast consisted of some of the Bolshoi Theatre’s star performers, including its Prima Ballerina Anna Sobeschanskaya, who was the original Kitri (or Quiteria) and for whose benefit the ballet was created. The titular hero was played by Wilhelm Vanner with Leon Espinosa at his side as Sancho Panza. Sergey Sokolov was the original Basilio and the ballerina Pelageya Karpakova danced Dulcinea.

Don Quixote premièred on the 14th December 1869 at the Imperial Bolshoi Theatre. Although Petipa worked to stage the ballet to accord with the traditions of Moscow and the tastes of its audience, the reaction was mixed. Sobeschanskaya was praised, other artists including Karpakova and Vanner were complimented, but others, most notably Espinosa, did not leave much of an impression. Sokolov’s performance as Basilio was not mentioned, but at the time, it was common practice not to review the men. Petipa’s choreographic contributions received a warm reception, but reviews of Minkus’s music score were mixed, while the stage designs and special effects by Karl Valts (the son of Fyodor Valts) were praised. The ballet did not stay long in the repertoire; it was dropped without even reaching 30 performances, but the story did not end there.

Petipa and Minkus would stage a revised production of Don Quixote in Saint Petersburg in 1871 and the ballet made a return to Moscow when the original 1869 production was revived by Sergey Sokolov, the original Basilio, in the 1870s. Another revival was staged at the Bolshoi by Alexei Bogdanov in 1887. Petipa’s Don Quixote was given its final performance in Saint Petersburg on the 20th February 1881 with the ballerina Maria Gorshenkova as Kitri. The final performance of Bogdanov’s production took place in November 1892 and the ballet would make a return to the stage in 1900 in the form of the revised, revamped production by Alexander Gorsky.

So what did Petipa and Minkus bring to the stage in 1869? Let’s dive into the original libretto, act by act, and find out.

1869 Libretto

^{*The translation of the libretto is taken from that provided by Roland John Wiley}1

Prologue - A room in Don Quixote’s home

The 1869 libretto opens with the following lines:

The stage represents Don Quixote’s dwelling. At the left a buffet filled with crockery, and a window onto the street. At the back an entrance door, which connects with a corridor, library and window. On stage: tables, chairs, armchairs, etc.

Carasco is seen nailing wallpaper over a cupboard that is filled with books of chivalric and knightly romances while Juanna keeps watch. Don Quixote enters, carrying a sword in one hand and a book about knightly adventures in the other. His head is buried in the book as he reads it down to the last page; he does not even notice Carasco and Juanna. He approaches the cupboard that is now covered in wallpaper and when he realises it has vanished, he declares that it must be the work of an evil magician. Carasco and Juanna play along until Don Quixote orders them to leave him alone. After they depart, Don Quixote sits in a large armchair and resumes his reading, becoming completely absorbed by the book’s contents, which vividly appear in his imagination. This number is entitled “Fantastic Occurrences,” in which the knightly adventures that Don Quixote reads about appear as fantastic visions on the stage.

Don Quixote feels a calling has dawned upon him; he is being called on a quest to pursue glory as a knight-errant, seeking adventure, fighting evil, braving danger and defending virtue. He seeks out the woman of his heart, in whose name he serves the good of the homeland, and he remembers the young peasant woman he once loved, but she never knew of his love for her. Her name was Alsoniza, a simple country name, but the woman of Don Quixote’s heart must be a distinguished personage, so he renames Alsoniza with the more sonorous name, Dulcinea. His plan is decided and the visions disappear.

Suddenly, in through the window flies Sancho Panza being chased by several angry women who attack him with brooms. Don Quixote grabs a broom from one of them and brandishes it like a lance, dismisses the women and takes Sancho Panza into his protection. After ensuring that nobody is eavesdropping, Don Quixote announces to Sancho his new knightly quest and invites him to join him as his squire. Sancho agrees and Don Quixote opens a cupboard containing old rusted and broken knightly accoutrements and weapons, among which is a long lance. He places an old helmet on the table, picks up a sword and with it, strikes the helmet with all his might, smashing it into little pieces. He is surprised at first, but then declares that the sword is enchanted. Noticing a shaving bowel in the form of a deep vessel, he picks it up and puts it on his head as a helmet, much to the amusement of Sancho, who tries hard to restrain his laughter.

Don Quixote then declares that their time for departure has come and takes the remaining armour and weapons from the cupboard. Sancho rushes ahead to ready his donkey and the Don’s horse Rosinante for their journey. Don Quixote follows, repeating, “To the highway! To the highway!”

Act 1 - A square in Barcelona

The 1869 libretto opens with the following description of the first act:

A square in Barcelona: in the distance on the left, a large street; to the right a landing. At near right Lorenzo’s inn, with a large balcony; at the back of the stage the shop where Pikilia sells oranges and other fruit. At the right [sic] the rich Gamache’s house, Juanita’s stand next to it, with displays of paper fans and umbrellas.

Street urchins are playing various games..., water carriers and beggars cross the stage. The scene is very lively. At their stands Juanita and Pikilia impatiently await their boyfriends, the famous Guerrero and the brave Nuñez.

Lorenzo the innkeeper appears at the doors of his inn; he is off to see the rich Gamache (originally called Hamash in 1869 and then Camacho in 1871), who he intends for his daughter Kitri to marry. However, his wife reminds him that Kitri is in love with the penniless barber Basilio, but Lorenzo will not hear of it. It is his will for his daughter to marry gentry that will gain her a handsome dowry, not a poor suitor who will put her into poverty. As Lorenzo goes into Gamache’s house, Kitri rushes on stage. When she sees where her father has gone, she becomes sad because she knows his purpose. However, she manages to return to her merry self and distracts herself from her sorrows by dancing with a fan. Basilio steals up to Kitri quietly and takes her fan. Surprised, Kitri is angry at first and flees from him. Seeing her displeasure, Basilio attaches Kitri’s fan to his guitar and plays her favourite melodies. She grows merry again and they dance.

However, Lorenzo re-enters the square and sees Kitri and Basilio together. He angrily separates them and dispatches Basilio. The lovers beg him to accept their love and let them marry, but Lorenzo refuses and banishes Basilio from his house. In despair, Basilio withdraws while Kitri rushes into the inn. Gamache arrives and Lorenzo calls Kitri back, orders her to wipe away her tears and to greet her fiancé with a smile and a curtsey. Gamache responds with a pompous gesture and acknowledgement of his own worth. He is enchanted by Kitri, whom her father praises enthusiastically. Refreshments are served; Kitri treats her guests to fruit and Gamache, delighted with his bride-to-be, shows Lorenzo the house that he will give him as his daughter’s dowry. Satisfied by this adventurous bargain, Lorenzo invites Gamache to discuss the marriage, which must take place within the coming days.

The stage then fills with people - children, men and women with castanets and tambourines. A matador (espada)2 arrives with his cuadrilla3 and Juanita and Pikilia are delighted to see their beloved picadors leading the procession. Lorenzo calls from the inn that dinner is ready to be served, but first, the crowd amuse themselves with dances. However, the merriment soon turns chaotic when the picadors start a quarrel with the banderilleros and knives are drawn.

Amidst the chaos, Don Quixote rides in on horseback with Sancho Panza on his donkey. The former imagines he has entered a hostile camp and, his lance at the ready, he threatens everyone, commanding them to lay down their arms and make peace. They all concede and bow to the old knight while laughing at him and thinking him a madman. Dismounting his horse Rosinante, Don Quixote walks towards Lorenzo’s inn, which he takes to be a splendid castle. Gamache and Lorenzo come outside and Don Quixote, thinking Lorenzo is the castle’s lord and master, bows to him. Flattered and mad with joy, Lorenzo invites the old knight to sit at his table.

The girls flirt with Sancho Panza and invite him to play a game of Blind Man’s Bluff, during which they tease him and play on tricks on him. Noticing this, Don Quixote, armed with a fork instead of a lance and a plate instead of a shield, rushes into the crowd and frees his friend. The people bow down to the crazy Don, who returns to the table in triumph.

The dances resume, during which Kitri approaches Basilio, and they swear eternal love to each other. Kitri gives him her word that she will sooner flee her parents’ house rather than marry Gamache. At the end of the dances, Don Quixote mounts Rosinante and Sancho Panza gets back onto his mule. It is time for them to depart and they give thanks for the hospitality, hurrying on to new exploits and adventures. The crowd wishes them a good trip and success in their impending battles, thus ends Act 1.

Differences between the original and modern productions

Modern productions differ in their similarities from the original 1869 production depending on which production one is referring to. Some productions in the west, most notably those of Rudolf Nureyev, Alexei Ratmansky and Carlos Acosta, dipped more into the original libretto than the Russian productions. But all modern productions carry the same major differences from Petipa’s Don Quixote.

Prologue

The biggest difference between the Prologue of the 1869 production and today’s productions is that it is either heavily shortened and the “Fantastic Occurrences” is omitted. One critic gave the following description of the “Fantastic Occurrences”:

“Monsters, dragons, animals instantly fill the stage, illuminated by a bright light, and along with them spring up towers and castles, where behind iron gratings beautiful young women are confined who reach out to our hero and beg him for help. The future knight rushes at the monsters with a sword, strikes to the right and left, but suddenly everything vanishes…” (VG, 16^th December 1869)4

At least three modern productions have restored the Prologue - Nureyev, in his production for the Paris Opera Ballet (originally staged for the Australian Ballet), Ratmansky in his production for the Dutch National Ballet, and Acosta in his productions for the Royal Ballet and the Birmingham Royal Ballet. Each of them staged their own renditions that capture the essence of the original, showing Don Quixote in his library, reading his books, having a vision and setting out on his quest. They did not restore and/or create their own versions of the Fantastic Occurrences, but they did not ignore it because they each included the appearance of a vision of Dulcinea, who reaches out to Don Quixote. Like in the original, this vision is what prompts him to believe he is being called upon to take up his knightly quest.

The importance of the Prologue is that it is the introduction to the story and it cements Don Quixote’s place as the primary focus of the ballet. Shortening the Prologue decreases his role and is the beginning of his relegation to a secondary character, which goes against Petipa and Minkus’s intentions for their ballet and Cervantes’s novel.

Act 1

Today’s stagings of Act 1 follow Petipa’s original in some respects, but the differences are on quite a large scale. It all starts with the opening and the entrances of Kitri and Basilio.

Entrance of Kitri

The differences here could not be clearer. In today’s productions, the first act usually opens with a short opening before going straight to Kitri’s entrance, which is a lively dance with her fan. She comes in looking for Basilio and is annoyed when she cannot find him. She proceeds to continue her dance, in which she taps or bangs her fan against the ground. But in reality, would a Spanish woman do this? A fan is a very personal item in Spanish culture and is used in several types of traditional Spanish dance5, but surely if a woman tapped or banged her fan against the ground, it would break. We cannot know if Petipa used this, but it cannot be his choreography since none is known to have survived. What is clear about Kitri’s entrance, however, is that this Kitri is not Petipa’s Kitri.

Petipa’s Kitri entered not as the fiery, flirtatious spirit known today, but as a sad young woman because her father is arranging her unwanted marriage to Gamache. Her merry dance with her fan had a different meaning in that she was not just dancing to dance; she was distracting herself from her sadness. This is a troupe seen in several 19^th century ballets where the heroine uses dancing as a self-distraction from negativity, but it also adds more to Kitri’s character in that it makes her more sympathetic and less one dimensional.

Entrance of Basilio and “Pas de deux”

When Kitri finishes her dance, it is followed by the number that proceeds La Morena. It is listed as a pas de deux in the 1869 music score, but it was clearly a scène dansante. Today, this number is staged as a comic scène dansante where Kitri and Basilio tease each other by flirting with their friends and Kitri plays around with Basilio’s guitar. In Petipa’s production, this was a romantic number in which the couple affirm their love. As explained in the libretto, Basilio steals up to Kitri quietly and takes her fan. Surprised, Kitri is angry at first and flees from him. Sure enough, the music expresses these scenes as the libretto describes them - the sharp “gestures” of the rapid 16^th notes, usually played on the piccolo, is clearly expressing Kitri’s displeasure and the trilled motifs give the impression of pushing someone away.6 In other words, it is expressing two people having an argument rather than a silly tease. Seeing her displeasure, Basilio attaches Kitri’s fan to his guitar and plays her favourite melodies. This gesture cheers her up, she grows merry again and they dance.

Basilio playing his guitar is represented by solo cello, but in Petipa’s staging, he would probably have not been encouraged to literally pluck the strings to the notes. The purpose was to portray emotion, which is the case in other ballets, for example, in Act 1 of Petipa’s Raymonda when Raymonda plays her lute (represented by solo harp and flute). Here, Basilio is serenading Kitri, which draws comparisons to “La Sérénade” from Act 1 of Petipa’s Harlequinade (or Les Millions d’Arlequin) when Harlequin serenades Columbine with his mandolin.

Petipa and Minkus would use a similar scene eight years later in the original production of La Bayadère. In Act 1, the number known today as “Nikiya with the water pitcher” was originally a scene where Solor listens to Nikiya playing a romantic melody on her veena (a Hindu stringed instrument) from outside the temple, which is represented by solo flute7. In Act 2, Nikiya’s veena made a second appearance (this time, represented by solo cell) when she played a sorrowful melody to express her heartbreak over Solor’s engagement to Gamzatti8.

La Morena

Following Kitri and Basilio’s romantic scène dansante is La Morena, which was one of the dances that pleased the public the most in both the 1869 and 1871 productions. Unfortunately, none of the critics gave any detailed choreographic descriptions, but only briefly mentioned that it was a national dance performed by Kitri and Basilio. One review from 1871 simply reported that La Morena was a national dance, “not bad at all and colourful”9. However, this brief description gives a clue that says it was likely to be a serious Spanish-style dance and did not include any of the flirtatiousness seen in today’s versions. Could it also have been more character style than classical style? Possibly, but without any detailed descriptions, notes or notations of Petipa’s choreography, this cannot be confirmed.

The Dance of Bullfighters, or Grand Pas des Toreadors

In what is commonly known as the Grand Pas des Toreadors, we find a major difference between what Petipa staged and what is performed today. Today, when the bullfighters arrive, we are presented with an episode that looks like it was ripped right out of Georges Bizet’s opera Carmen. The bullfighters dance with some of the women, and there is a lot of flirting between the espada and a street dancer. The two perform a sensual dance that gives off a lot of Carmen and Escamillo vibes. However, there was no such number in Petipa’s Don Quixote because there was no street dancer. What Petipa staged for the bullfighters was a quadrille in which they portrayed a mock bullfight.

First of all, Petipa’s cuadrilla consisted of the members that are part of a real cuadrilla - the picadors, horse riders who use lances to test and weaken the bull during the first act of the fight; the banderilleros (or chuloses), foot assistants who use capes and place barbed darts into the bull during the second act; and the matador (or the espada), the leader and main performer who fights and kills the bull in the final act. Today’s productions do not list or mention the different team members and positions. Also, the bullfighters were originally played by women in travesty in both the 1869 and 1871 productions, retaining the danseuse en travesti tradition from Paris. It was probably Alexander Gorsky who gave the roles to the men.

One review of the 1869 production offers a glimpse into the quadrille:

“Of the maneuvers, new and interesting are: the quadrille in the second scene which represents a bullfight, where women dancers represent chuloses and banderilleros under the command of the espada Miss Gorokhova 2.” (SL 7^th January 1870)10

A review from the 1871 production, however, offers a more detailed insight:

“This dance is very picturesque, and reproduces graphically all the details of the Spaniards’ favorite national spectacle. Represented here are the evolutions of the picadors and the agile jumps of the chuloses, who tantalize the bull with their red capes, and the bold feats of the banderilleros, who stick their wands, with streams of colored paper attached, into the bull’s neck; finally the espada appears, in the person of Miss Simskaya 2, who kills the bull with her sword. This dance is very well thought out, the groupings and pas are very picturesque, the costumes brilliant and beautiful (in vain did they add to the short, Spanish, embroidered jackets some kind of little skirts, which don’t exist in real life, hiding, perhaps, several irregularities of torso in the dancers of the corps de ballet but offending local color).” (GO 14^th November 1871)11

From the information provided in these reviews, Petipa’s mock bullfight seems to have combined dance and action. The purpose was to capture and portray an imaginary bullfight in the arena, using capes, certain positions and manoeuvres, and prop bullfighting weapons, most notably the espada’s sword. Petipa was probably familiar with how a bullfight was staged because he must’ve seen bullfights during his time in Spain (they were also done in the south of France). Without notated choreography, we cannot know for definite what Petipa staged, but these reviews tell us that his dance was a far cry from what is known today.

Today, the bullfighters’ dance is nothing more than an overzealous cape-waving extravaganza that has more to do with delivering the Carmen-Escamillo-esque romance between the espada and the street dancer than a bullfight. Although the espada calls his cuadrilla to dance as if they are bullfighting, the whole thing looks nothing like a bullfight, not even a mock one. It does not match the above description of Petipa’s mock bullfight. The men dance, sometimes, armed with knives, and endlessly wave their capes. The espada’s main concern is not to show he knows how to kill a bull, but to show off to his girlfriend that he’s a magnificent bullfighter because he can… wave a cape in a fanciful way…

If someone tried to tell the 20^th century ballet masters that bullfighters do more than just wave capes, they clearly were not listening…

The Street Dancer

As explained above, the character known as the street dancer and her dagger dance did not exist in Petipa’s Don Quixote. She is one of several characters that was created and introduced by Gorsky in his 1900 production.

The music for the street dancer’s dagger dance is not from Don Quixote, but from another Petipa/Minkus ballet set in Spain called Zoraya, which premiered at the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre on the 1^st February 1881. However, somewhere along the line, it was mistakenly reported that the interpolated music from Zoraya was used for the Grand Pas des Toreadors, which led many to think that the toreadors’ dance was Gorsky’s interpolated number in Act 1, but that was not the case.

The music from Zoraya that Gorsky interpolated was a number from Act 2 entitled La Rondeña, a dagger dance that was originally performed by Maria Gorshenkova. In his memoirs, Petipa lambasted Gorsky for this interpolation, writing:

“Equally shameless is how Mr Gorsky borrows my ideas. Before he travelled to Moscow this sir wrote down, by means of choreographic marks, all the pas I created in St Petersburg, in Don Quixote for example, he inserted the Dagger Dance I created for the ballet Zoraya…”12

Unfortunately, Petipa neglected to go into details as to how much Gorsky “borrowed” from him. He does not confirm if Gorsky used any of his choreography or if he simply used the music and the same concept. Reviews of the Zoraya première offer clues as to what sort of dance La Rondeña was, but not a full picture as to what was performed.

One review gave some insight into La Rondeña:

“The Rondeña. The performer of this extremely original dance, Miss Gorshenkova, our ethereal soloist, was greeted with a storm of applause. Each new dance is a new triumph for our first-class Miss Gorshenkova. The rondeña is a dance in which classic and character styles are joined. One must see in person how this artist proceeds on pointe among a whole series of daggers driven into the floor. It is effective, original, and artistic besides!
The ‘rising star’ Maria Gorshenkova performed this dance with daggers, among which ‘the talented ballerina flew on pointe.’ At the end ‘they picked up [Gorshenkova] and carried her to stage front, whereupon it seemed as if the dancer were going to fly into the air’ [NV 2^nd February 1881]13

For many years, it was widely believed that Petipa was angry at Gorsky for changing his choreography, but, as ballet historian Peter Koppers has uncovered, it could not have been the changes in choreography that angered Petipa, but the changes in the libretto, which, at the time, was deemed the most important part of a ballet. After all, Petipa’s Don Quixote was last performed in Saint Petersburg in 1881 when Gorsky was a child, aged 10-11. Zoraya was given its final performance in 1893 and Gorsky probably remembered it, but it seems more likely that he simply used the music and retained the original concept of La Rondeña, but with new choreography of his own design.14

Whether or not Petipa was right about Gorsky “borrowing” his ideas, it appears there was some “borrowing” going on for the creation of the new character, but from another source. As suggested before, one can certainly draw the conclusion that when he created the street dancer and her romance with the espada, Gorsky surely must have been thinking about Bizet’s Carmen (first performed in Saint Petersburg in 1875).

The aftermath of the mock bullfight that saw the fight break out between the picadors and the banderilleros and the entrance of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza was an action/pantomime scene, a tradition that was greatly minimised and almost omitted in the Soviet Union. The game of Blind Man’s Bluff was another of the most well-received dances, with one critic briefly reporting:

Amusing is the ‘Game of Blind Man’s Buff’ in the second scene—this game is joined with dances, beautifully performed by Mr Geltser and 8 coryphées. Sancho-Panza’s eyes are bound and he, catching the peasant girls running away from him, dances a polka with them. (VG 16^th December 1869)15

The final dances of Act 1 performed after Blind Man’s Bluff are still performed today, but not completely in the same context. For example, there is no mention in the libretto of Don Quixote mistaking Kitri for Dulcinea and inviting her to dance. This will be explained later. There were three variations rather than two, but one appears to have been cut. The final dance was subtitled as a Grand Pas d’action that consists of a classical waltz opening that contains colourful Spanish rhythms and motifs, which leads into a minuet. Following these were variations; the first was for Basilio and two soloists, the second was a waltz-like variation for one of the soloists and the third was for Kitri. Then came the coda/finale in the rhythm and movement of a gallop.

The finale was a combination of dance and action, which included a pantomime scene in which Kitri and Basilio reaffirm their love. Just as Act 1 began on a different note than today, it also ended on a different note. Today’s Act 1 ends with Kitri and Basilio running away, while Gamache and Lorenzo follow them in pursuit, with Don Quixote and Sancho Panza trailing along after them. However, in Petipa’s ballet, according to the libretto, the titular character and his squire were granted a grand exit that matched their grand entrance. The libretto says that Don Quixote’s horse Rosinante and Sancho Panza’s donkey were brought back; the two men remounted them and rode off as the crowd bid them farewell. This is a reminder of which characters were the ballet’s primary focus, but it also sheds some light on the importance of Rosinante because in the novel, the old horse plays his own important role as the old knight’s noble steed and his comic double16. Not all modern productions include the horse, but a real horse was used in the original production, retaining some level of Rosinante’s importance.

However, whether Rosinante is played by a real or fake horse, what the original libretto reveals raises a question that nobody seems to ask… when leaving Barcelona at the end of Act 1, why does Don Quixote always forget his horse?

End of Part 1

Sources

• Roland John Wiley, The Petersburg Noverre: Marius Petipa in Russia (2022), Anthem Press, United States

• Балеты М.И. ПЕТИПА в Москве (2018), Сост. М.К. Леонова, Ю.П. Бурлака. – М.: Прогресс-Традиция, Москве (Ballets of M.I. PETIPA in Moscow (2018), Comp. M.K. Leonova, Yu.P. Burlaka. – M.: Progress-Tradition, Moscow)

• Simon Morrison, Bolshoi Confidential: Secrets of the Russian Ballet from the Rule of the Tsars to Today (2016), 4th Estate, London, United Kingdom

• Nadine Meisner, Marius Petipa: The Emperor’s Ballet Master (2019), New York City, US: Oxford University Press

• Marius Petipa, Russian Ballet Master: The Memoirs of Marius Petipa. Translated ed. by Helen Whittaker, introduction and edited by Lillian Moore. London, UK: Dance Books Ltd (1958)

• Peter Koppers, Gorsky and St Petersburg - Substack: Essays on the Imperial Ballet (2025)

• Sergey Belenky

• Juan Bockamp

• Andrew Fosters

• Robert Greskovic

• Alan Jones

References

Tell me, my dear brother,
O you the Royal Flower,
Why is that God placed me
As a flower on this world?
To bring joy to people,
To the very ones who killed
Me and our dear mother?..
O merciful, dear and sacred God!
Then the Lily wept again.
And the Royal Flower
Leaned his pink and crimson head
Upon the white and gentle face
Of the drooping Lily.

- an excerpt from The Lily by Taras Shevchenko (1846), translated by Peter Fedynsky

The Lily and several other poems by Ukrainian poet, painter and writer Taras Shevchenko served as the inspiration for the libretto of the Ukrainian ballet Lileya. In my first essay about the history of ballet in Ukraine, I wrote about The Forest Song and its place as one of the nation’s most beloved “nationalist” ballets. There are at least several ballets in the Ukrainian repertoire with a strong national theme, but of all of them, the one that is deemed the “national” ballet of Ukraine is Lileya.

Lileya is a ballet in two acts; the music is by Ukrainian composer Konstantin Dankevych and the libretto is by the Ukrainian theatre critic, playwright and journalist Vsevolod Chagovets. The original choreographer was Halyna Berezova, a Ukrainian ballerina, choreographer and teacher in Kyiv. However, despite its importance to Ukrainian culture, Lileya is only performed once a year on the 9th March, Taras Shevchenko’s birthday. No one seems to have an answer as to why this ballet is so rare for the public to see it and for the dancers to dance in it. It is very unfortunate because the ballet itself is a beautiful work. But what kind of ballet is Lileya? What makes it so important to be deemed Ukraine’s “national” ballet?

In this essay, I will explore the history of this rarely-performed ballet. I will begin with a brief look into the life and career of Shevchenko and then how Lileya was created from his poems, looking into what gives the ballet such a significant place in the Ukrainian ballet repertoire.

Taras Shevchenko, the “father of Ukraine”

Unlike many Ukrainian cultural figures who were, for many years, mostly unheard of outside of Ukraine before Russia’s brutal invasion in 2022, Taras Shevchenko and his works have been known around the world for many years. His literary heritage is regarded to be the foundation of modern Ukrainian literature and, to a large extent, the modern Ukrainian language. He was born on the 9th March 1814 in the village of Moryntsi in the Cherkasy Oblast in Ukraine, which was then part of the Russian Empire. His parents, Hryhoriy Ivanovych Shevchenko and Kateryna Shevchenko (née Boiko), former subjects of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, were serfs on the land owned by the Russian nobleman Vasiliy Engelhardt.

Shevchenko grew up in serfdom; when he was 14, he became a domestic servant in the household of Engelhardt’s son, Pavlo. In 1829, he travelled with Engelhardt to Vilnius, Lithuania and in 1831, they went to Saint Petersburg, where Shevchenko showed his talent as an artist. He was introduced to prominent members of the Russian artistic intelligentsia, including Alexander Pushkin, Vasiliy Zhukovsky and Karl Bryullov. His life story, personality and work made such an impression that the members of the artistic scene arranged to buy him out of serfdom. 2500 rubles was raised and, on the 22nd April 1838, the 24 year old Shevchenko was a free man.

Shevchenko continued to display his talent for art with his paintings, but he also turned out to be an outstanding poet. In 1840, his first collection of poetry Kobzar was published. The poems were written in Ukrainian and presented a romantic view of Ukraine’s Cossack past. In 1843, Shevchenko returned to Ukraine, where he witnessed the oppression and inhuman treatment of the workers and peasants. This gave way to new themes in his poetry, highlighting the oppression of Ukrainians under the Russian Empire and promoting Ukrainian values and sovereignty, thus Shevchenko would revolutionise Ukrainian literature.

In 1846, he moved to Kyiv, where he befriended the members of the Brotherhood of Saints Cyril and Methodius, a short-lived secret society that sought to revive the ideas of Ukrainian brotherhoods and envisioned a Ukrainian national revival. The group advocated social equality, an end to national oppression, and a federation of Slavic states under the leadership of Ukraine. Shevchenko would become a champion for an independent Ukraine, a nation with its own language, literature and culture.

In 1847, the brotherhood was uncovered and its members were arrested. Shevchenko was arrested for his satirical poems in which he mocked the Tsar and his wife. He was sent back to Saint Petersburg and, on the orders of Tsar Nicholas I, he was exiled to a military unit at Orenburg near the Ural Mountains for ten years and was banned from writing and painting. However, he did not hesitate to violate the tsar’s orders by continuing to write in secret, which was eventually discovered and resulted in another arrest and stricter surveillance. He was finally able to return from exile in 1857 and for the last years of his life, Shevchenko created many new paintings and poems.

Shevchenko made one last journey to Ukraine in 1859, where he intended to buy a plot of land where he could build a house and settle there, but he was arrested on charges of blasphemy and was made to return to Saint Petersburg. Shevchenko would never see his beloved Ukraine again. In his last works, he embodies the dream of the Ukrainian people for a free and happy life. Shevchenko understood that the peasants would gain their freedom neither through the kindness of the tsar nor through reforms, but through struggle.

Taras Shevchenko died on the 10th March 1861, aged 47, just seven days before the 1861 emancipation of the serfs was announced. Shevchenko was initially buried in Saint Petersburg’s Smolensk Cemetery, but it was his wish to be buried in Ukraine, which would not go unfulfilled. Two months later, his friends arranged for his body to be transferred and on the 8th May 1861, he was reburied on the Chernecha hora (Monk’s Hill, known today as Taras Hill) near the Dnipro River in Kaniv in the Cherkasy Oblast, his region of his birth.

Many monuments to the poet stand across Ukraine and various Ukrainian buildings are named in his honour, including the National Opera Theatre in Kyiv, its full title being the Taras Shevchenko National Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre of Ukraine. Many other monuments to him stand all over the world in such places as Washington D.C., Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Brazil, Paraguay, Hungary, Montenegro, Poland and Italy. In 2014, when remaining statues of Bolshevik leader Vladimir Lenin in Ukraine were toppled during the Euromaidan events, many were replaced with new statues of Shevchenko. To this day, he remains one of the most highly revered figures in all of Ukraine and is widely regarded as the “father of the nation”.

When I am dead, bury me
In my beloved Ukraine,
My tomb upon a grave mound high
Amid the spreading plain,
So that the fields, the boundless steppes,
The Dnipro's plunging shore
My eyes could see, my ears could hear
The mighty river roar.

- an excerpt from My Testament by Taras Shevchenko (1845), translated by John Weir

Lileya and the Soviet libretto

In 1939, the year of the 125th anniversary of Shevchenko’s birth, it was decided that a new theatrical work would be created to celebrate the anniversary. Motifs and themes from several of his poems - The Lily, Marina, Drowned, The Slave (The Blind Man), The Mermaid, The Princess and The Witch - were amalgamated by Vsevolod Chagovets into a libretto for a new ballet. The score was composed by Konstantin Dankevych and the choreography was by Halyna Berezova. The new ballet was entitled Lileya and it was to be staged at the National Opera in Kyiv.

However, there was more to this ballet than it simply being a new work created to celebrate an anniversary of one of the most revered Ukrainian figures and it would prove more than significant not just to the Ukrainian arts and culture, but to Ukraine itself. It was intended for Lileya to première in 1939, but the première was delayed due to the horrors that Ukraine was experiencing at the time under the murderous, terror-filled regime of Joseph Stalin.

At the time of Lileya’s creation, the Great Purge of 1936-1940 was occurring, which saw the purging of many Ukrainians through mass arrests, executions and exile. This followed the terrors of the Holodomor of 1932-1933, Stalin’s genocidal man-made famine that starved millions of Ukrainian peasants to death. In the words of Ukrainian scholar and historian, Serhii Plokhy, “the famine left Ukrainian society severely traumatised, crushing its capacity for open resistance to the regime for generations to come.”1 The Great Purge further traumatised Ukrainian society as it saw the crushing of Ukrainization and the Russification of millions of ethnic Ukrainians.

But there was at least one field where national resistance, even in the smallest form, was still active.

As I previously explained in my Forest Song essay, after the 1917 Revolution and the rise of communism, strict ideologies were introduced to the Soviet Union. This meant that every sector was under the tight control of the politburo, who were determined to keep true to their new Marxist-Leninist ideology, at least in their own ways, through such methods as collectivization and censorship, to name a few. The arts and culture sector was among those that had to bow down to the strict rules of censorship, and it had to undergo change to survive and to be met with approval from the new regime.

Ballet was no exception as it underwent a transformation from a theatrical European art form of entertainment to a Soviet propaganda tool. This was epitomised in the new genre, the drambalet, introduced in the 1930s and declared by Stalin to be the only acceptable ballet genre across the USSR. But there was another ballet element that reinforced the regime’s censorship and ideologies - the libretto.

For many years, especially in the 19th century, the libretto was the most important element of a ballet, even more important than the choreography and the music. The 19th century saw many librettos of romantic, adventurous and magical stories based on mythology, fairy tales, legends and classical literature brought to the stage. In the Soviet Union, for new ballets, these story themes were rejected in favour of stories that glorified the ideological narratives of socialist realism and adaptations of classical Russian and world literature.

In her book Swans of the Kremlin, historian and Soviet studies scholar Christina Ezrahi explained,

By providing a basis for librettos, classical literature was supposed to replace ballet’s “frivolity” with high-minded seriousness. Literary works by writers such as Pushkin, Gogol and Shakespeare and contemporary propaganda topics, especially plots glorifying the freedom struggle of Soviet nationalities became the libretto source of choice. Ballets on different nationalities in the Soviet Union provided a plausible excuse for using folk dance as inspiration and fulfilled the requirement of narodnost’2, contributing to the government's propaganda goal of creating an image of brotherhood between the different nationalities.3

According to Ezrahi and dance and Soviet studies scholar Janice Ross, the censorship in the ballet libretto began in 1929 when the Soviet Ministry for Culture held a libretto competition. This competition gave eight points of criteria, which were published in the Ministry’s Zhiz’ Isskustva journal. New librettos were to contain the following requirements:

1. A revolutionary theme

2. Themes must be developed on the level of a concrete perception of reality, and not by constructing abstract dance forms loaded with symbolic or allegorical meanings

3. It is desirable to build a spectacle on mass movements

4. It is necessary that intrigue in the scenario be sufficiently uncomplicated for it to be understood as a whole from pantomime

5. It is necessary that the librettists take into account the achievements of contemporary theatrical technique

6. Not presenting any kind of categorical demands concerning genre of scenario, the State Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet points to the possibilities of use of the following genres: contemporary reviews (Soviet revue, lyric-heroic poems, choreographic comedies and satires, contemporary fairy-plays).

7. It is desirable that the new scenario of the ballet gives the ballet master material for pantomime…, but also new forms of dance: acrobatics, physical culture and others - and new pantomime gestures

8. The scenario of ballet must be calculated as a whole evening performance (two or three hours of pure activity)4

Indeed, the earliest drambalets met the Ministry’s set criteria - Flames of Paris carries a revolutionary theme5, and The Fountain of Bakhchisaray is based on classical Russian literature6, but something else happened. A particular storyline started to emerge that would appear in multiple Soviet ballets - a “politically appropriate” love triangle between a young woman and two men, one rich and one poor. In every case, the rich suitor is the villain and the poor suitor is the hero.

One of the earliest examples is in Vasily Vainonen’s Partisan Days, which premièred at the Kirov Theatre in 1937. It takes place in a Cossack village during the civil war period and centres on a love triangle between a young Cossack girl, her evil, rich Cossack fiancé and a noble Bolshevik partisan. The ballet also included plenty of national folk dance, for which Vainonen travelled to the North Caucasus to carefully study. In her dissertation Ballet in Ukraine - A Site Tension Between Imperialism and Nationalism, dance scholar, Ania Nikulina commented that this is an example of “nation-themed librettos that were favoured by the Soviet central authorities, as they tapped into the idea of the Soviet Union as a utopian gathering place for nationalities and communities.”7

The portrayal of the two suitors, the fiancé as rich and evil and the Bolshevik partisan as the force for good, is not unintentional. The principle for new “national ballets” was that they had to be “national in form and socialist in content.”8 This was reinforced in Soviet ballets where the hero is a peasant of the local working class population and the villain is an aristocrat either of local or foreign capitalist upper class. This stems from the Soviet propaganda that glorified the peasants and vilified the aristocracy as part of their efforts to construct a new social order based on Marxist-Leninist ideology. The image created a heroic united front among the common folk, but in reality, it was all part of the cover up of Stalin’s brutal crimes against the peasantry.9

Taking all this into account, one can see how the libretto of Lileya met the criteria imposed by the Soviet Ministry for Culture - it revolves around a love triangle between a young village girl (Lileya), another villager (Stepan) and a local aristocrat (the Prince); it makes plenty of room for national folk dances (Ukrainian folk dances) and it contains a revolutionary theme (the peasants revolting against the Prince).

But there is more to Lileya than its meeting any criteria laid down by the politburo, as shown in the original libretto.

The original libretto of Lileya

While the Soviet government used the ballet libretto as another propaganda tool, for the Ukrainian ballet community, it seems to have had another purpose - to be a weapon of national resistance.

For the Lileya story, Chagovets took most of the material from Shevchenko’s poems The Lily and Marina (Mariana the nun), poems that tell of young Ukrainian women who are persecuted by society and ultimately meet tragic fates. In many of Shevchenko’s works, the heroines are symbols of Ukraine, representing in various ways the repression that the Ukrainians endured under the Russian tsars. Shevchenko also compares his heroines to blooming flowers as a symbol of youthful innocence, purity, fragility and the sufferings of the fleeting life under serfdom. In The Lily, for example, after her tragic death, the young girl transforms into a lily, which is an embodiment of the innocent soul that has been martyred to produce a beauty that callous people seek to create by destroying innocent lives. Chagovets did not neglect to bring Shevchenko’s floral allegories to his libretto.

Ania Nikulina visited Kyiv in 2018 and 2019, and found what appears to be the original libretto in the Central State Archives of Art and Literature, located at St Sophia’s Cathedral in the heart of the capital. Nikulina reported that the document was 28-pages long with no publication date and was placed in a folder marked “1955”, but she stated that the “yellow, semi-transparent paper looked much older than other librettos of the 1950s.”10 Though not certain, it is highly possible that this is the original libretto, or, at the very least, the first draft. What Nikulina discovered was that the original Lileya libretto was more tragic and violent than what is performed today, and more violent than Shevchenko’s poems. Its story is one of conquest of the Ukrainian lands and subjugation of communities, which was more than significant in Ukraine in the 1930s and remains so to this day.11

The first act takes place in a Ukrainian village and the opening paragraph of the original libretto details a very romanticised picture of Ukrainian village life:

“It is the Night of Ivan Kupala [Summer Solstice Festival] on the outskirts of the village. On the right and on the left of the stage are the houses, drowning in flowers. There are lights in all of the windows. In the centre is a green pasture extending to the river, which sparkles in the back of the stage. Bonfires are burning, the moon is shining. Following a musical overture, the curtain opens - a village celebration is in full swing. Girls wearing wreaths and dressed in festive clothes are playing games. From the hill, brave and strong young men enter the village to join the celebration - they jump over fires and play with the girls.”12

Chagovet does not hold back in enriching us with the vision of a happy, prosperous Ukrainian village and its cheerful, merry villagers (young and old) in full festive mode as they gather together to celebrate with games and dancing. Shortly after, Lileya and Stepan enter. The libretto makes references to Shevchenko’s floral metaphors, describing Lileya as “blooming in her dance-tribute to love, full of elegance and spring beauty”13 after her marriage to Stepan is blessed by her mother and the latter’s father. From the point of view of Shevchenko and Chagovets, Lileya is not a typical ballerina role; she is a blooming flower, a symbol of innocence, purity, hope and light, a symbol of Ukrainian land and the core of Ukrainian society. The society that she is part of is a joyful, prosperous community, thriving in national culture and tradition, until a foreign power unleashes a conquest.

As preparations for Stepan and Lileya’s wedding get underway, all is interrupted by the arrival of the Prince, the local ruler. In the libretto, the Ukrainian word “knyaz”, which translates as “prince” or “duke” or “king” is used. This title can be traced as far back as Kyivan Rus’, where a knyaz was a noble, high-ranking ruler responsible for governing land and protecting its people. In Lileya, this character is a foreign violent warlord. The original libretto describes him as “wearing a white wig, dressed luxuriously”, which is clearly a reference to Imperial Russia. The Prince fits the Soviet criteria of the antagonist being a member of the upper class and coming between the lead couple. From Chagovet’s perspective, he symbolises the foreign power that invaded Ukraine - Russia. The Prince plots to take Lileya for himself by ordering Stepan to come to his palace to serve him, but the Older Cossacks send Stepan to the Zaporizhian Sich.

In the subsequent acts, the original libretto contains scenes of violence and murder that were ultimately not retained. These scenes were the destruction of a gypsy camp; the murder of a young orphan girl, and the destruction of the village. These barbaric acts were carried out by the Prince and his guards, who are referred to as “gaiduki” in the libretto. According to Nikulina, this was a term given to Ukrainian Cossacks in voluntary mercenary service to the Imperial administration. These characters are not featured in Shevchenko’s poems, so, as Nikulina comments, they were probably added to the ballet as “markers of national treason”.14 Below are excerpts from the libretto referenced by Nikulina that describe the original violent scenes:

The destruction of the gypsy camp:

Lileya goes to the gypsies to see the fortune teller… She is told that there is no news of Stepan. Suddenly, thundering horses approach the gypsy encampment. The Prince enters, along with his guards (or gaiduki).
Prince: “Who gave you the right to camp here without my permission? Now, destroy the camp [to the guards].”
Gypsies beg the Prince for forgiveness. In humility and tears, elder women ask to keep their belongings… One of the gypsy girls, Mariula, attracts the Prince’s attention with her dance and beauty… Lileya manages to escape into the forest…15

The blinded Stepan and the murder of the orphan girl:

Stepan, in beggarly clothes, with a bandura in his hands carefully goes down the hill, holding the hand of a girl, guiding him… Lileya suddenly notices that he is blind. Desperation, mourning and gentle feelings come together. She guides him to the nearest tree, trembling from horror; in horror, she looks at his eyes. Anxiously looking around, she begs him to rest under the tree. She rests her head on his shoulder. Stepan starts to play the bandura, and a thoughtful melody starts as a sad novel about his blinding in enemy’s captivity. Lileya, in deep mourning, kisses his eyes and looks at the lake… An orphan girl [a guide] is running around the lake, as a careless butterfly, picking lilies one by one.

A few guards capture Lileya and Stepan by their hands. A short scene of a desperate fight. The Prince captures Lileya, despite her resistance, and takes her into the forest. An orphan tries to hold Lileya by her hand, however, one of the guards kills her. Everyone goes away. Just the killed orphan-girl and Stepan, stunned by the blows remain.16

The destroyed village:

The peasants are coming back from the field; they are darker than the Black Earth. The mothers, with infants in their hands, wrapped in rags, go to their homes. Farmers move with their heads down; among them are grey-haired and grey-bearded old men, and young girls. Everyone is disheartened, sullen and desolate. Old men look at Stepan, but do not recognise him and he does not recognise the village he left behind.17

The scenes described above must surely be Chagovet speaking through his libretto of the repressions Ukraine suffered under both Imperial and Soviet rule. As Nikulina observed, the romanticised vision of Ukrainian village life in Act 1 and its subsequent destruction in Act 3 do not feel coincidental. Just years earlier, Stalin had stomped right through Ukraine with his barbaric “First Five-Year-Plan” that saw the collectivization of farming, dekulakization and the Holodomor, all of which murdered millions of Ukrainian peasants and destroyed hundreds of villages and rural communities.

Nikulina suggests that the destroyed village scene in the final act is a reference to the Soviet collectivization of the Ukrainian lands, the brutal repressions that accompanied it and the terror campaign of the Holodomor, with which I agree18. She also remarks that the village scene in the first act feels like a tribute to the millions of peasants murdered by Stalin and the loss of life, culture and communities that once were but not had been forgotten. To speak against Stalin and his crimes, and to pay tribute to his victims was the most dangerous thing anyone could do in the Soviet Union, but to subtly hide a quiet tribute in a ballet proved to be an option and if this was Chagovet’s intention, he succeeded. As long as the villain was royalty, the Soviet authorities would surely not have second-guessed anything.

However, as previously stated, the scenes of destruction and murder were omitted. I have been unable to establish when they were omitted, which raises several questions - did the story of this 28-page libretto ever make it to the stage, or were the violent scenes omitted before Lileya premièred in 1940? Or were they omitted post-première? Was it the orders of the Soviet Ministry for Culture to omit them, or did the team who created the ballet, including Chagovet, make that decision themselves?

Either way, even without these scenes, Lileya still carries a strong message of national resistance and Ukrainian nationalism. However, it is also worth noting that, amid all the tragedy and the violence of Chagovets’ original story, the creators never forgot that Lileya was still a ballet as it includes some beautiful balletic scenes that offer escapism from the cruel fate imposed on Lileya and Stepan, as a ballet should do.

One of the ballet’s highlights is the mermaids scene in Act 1. Fleeing into the forest to escape from the Prince, the exhausted Lileya falls asleep beside a lake. She then dreams that Stepan appears with a group of mermaids, who live at the bottom of the lake, led by their queen. The Queen of the Mermaids welcomes the lovers into her watery realm and they dance together until the dream ends when Lileya awakes. This scene was inspired by Shevchenko’s poems The Mermaid and Drowned, and according to Vasily Turkevich, it is a tribute to the early romantic trend of the poet’s early works.19 But from a ballet perspective, it’s something else - it’s the ballet’s so-called “white act”, a tradition that stems from the Romantic Ballet of the 1830s20. One could call this scene a modern successor to the underwater scenes from Filippo Taglioni’s La Fille du Danube (1836) and Jules Perrot’s Ondine, ou La Naiade (1843)21.

Another highlight is the divertissement from Act 2, which portrays the Judgement of Paris from Greek mythology. It takes place at the Prince’s palace and is performed by members of his Serf Theatre. It features a corps de ballet of maenads, four satyrs and three female soloists as the goddesses Hera, Athena and Aphrodite. The Prince also takes part, playing the role of Paris, and last to enter is Lileya, playing Helen of Troy. The Prince attempts to use this opportunity to court Lileya, but he ultimately fails.

This number is clearly a historical reference to serfdom. The Serf Theatres were a popular form of private entertainment on wealthy landowners’ estates across the Russian Empire, in which serfs were employed as actors, singers, dancers and musicians to perform operas, ballets and plays. No doubt it is also a reference to Shevchenko’s life as a serf. From a ballet perspective, it follows the themes of the ballets of the 17th, 18th and early 19th centuries, many of which were based on Greco-Roman mythology as it was one of the most popular subjects in the pre-Romantic Ballet. It also follows another classical ballet trend - the pas de seduction or scène de seduction, where the antagonist attempts to win the affections of the protagonist. In other cases, it is the protagonist who is seducing and/or flirting with the antagonist as part of a sly scheme.22

Lileya after the première

Lileya premièred at the National Opera of Ukraine on the 26th August 1940, with Antonina Vasilieva as Lileya and Oleksandr Sobol as Stepan. However, shortly after the première, the Soviet Union entered the Second World War and the ballet company was evacuated to Irkutsk, Siberia. Lileya would not be seen again on the stage in Kyiv until after the war ended. It returned to the National Opera in 1945 in a new production with décor by Ukrainian painter and artist Anatoliy Petritsky.

After its première, Lileya underwent several revivals at the National Opera. Following the 1945 revival, a new production was staged in 1956 by Ukrainian choreographer Vakhtang Vronsky. In 1958, Lileya made film history when Vronsky’s version was made into a Soviet ballet-film, in collaboration with Dovzhenko Film Studios and Ukrainian film director Vasyl Lapoknysh. The cast included celebrated Ukrainian dancers Yevheniia Yershova as Lileya and Robert Klyavin (Vizyrenko) as Stepan. The film included a narration of excerpts from Shevchenko’s Kobzar, including the following from My Testament:

And on the renewed earth
There will be no enemy, no adversary,
But there will be a son, and there will be a mother,
And there will be people on earth.

- an excerpt from My Testament by Taras Shevchenko (1845)

Today, Lileya is primarily presented in two versions - the 2003 production staged by Valery Kovtun for the National Opera of Ukraine and the production first staged in 1989 by German Isupov for the Lviv National Opera and Ballet Theatre. Between the two, Isupov’s version follows Vronsky’s more closely while Kovtun revised the libretto to keep the focus on the love story of Lileya and Stepan. Kovtun omitted the gypsies and their music numbers, introducing music from other works by Dankevych. He also omitted Stepan’s capture, torture and blindness, and presented him as a hero who leads his friends to storm the Prince’s palace to rescue Lileya. Kovtun also gave a different ending. The original libretto ends with a revolution, led by the blind Stepan, while poor Lileya loses her reason and dies dancing her dance of madness. In Kovtun’s libretto, Lileya dies a noble death by protecting her beloved when the Prince shoots at Stepan, but Lileya throws herself in front of him and takes the bullet. She dies in Stepan’s arms and her body transforms into a lily, while the Prince’s fate is left unknown. The ballet ends with Stepan returning to the community and holding up the lily as the curtain falls.

Conclusion

In conclusion, while there are still many unanswered questions, Lileya proved slightly easier to research than The Forest Song. This was primarily thanks to Ania Nikulina’s dissertation, which provided information unavailable in other resources. What I learned from researching Lileya is that it is more than worthy and deserving of its acknowledgement as the “national” ballet of Ukraine. It was created during one of the darkest chapters in Ukraine’s history and although it met the criteria laid down by the Soviet government, like The Forest Song, its creators ensured it carried a message for their nation and kept the Ukrainian national spirit alive.

While the libretto has undergone revisions, the message of nationalism and national resistance is still there. Lileya can be acknowledged as a tribute to the millions murdered during Stalin’s reign of terror, but, with history now repeating itself in the form of Russia’s war, it stands as relevant as ever to Ukraine as a nation. It is unfortunate that the ballet is limited to only one performance a year; the question as to why remains unanswered. Given its significance, why not perform this ballet more than once a year? And why not allow it to be taken abroad so foreign audiences can enjoy it?

Maybe one day, those questions will be answered, but for now, what I can report is that in the Ukrainian ballet repertoire lies a ballet that reminds us of Ukraine’s long history of fighting for freedom, as they continue to do now. Lileya is the balletic embodiment of Ukraine’s national strength and resistance. Today, through Lileya herself, the ballet still stands as a symbol of the blooming flowers that, even in the darkest of times, Ukraine always grows. Слава Україні!

Appendix 1

Libretto of Lileya

From the production staged by Valery Kovtun for the National Opera of Ukraine

Act 1

On a night on Ivana Kupala, the villagers, young and old celebrate a national holiday. Among the young people are the lovers Lileya and Stepan, who cannot hide their happiness. However, the Prince and his gaiduki appear and his gaze stops at Lileya. Fascinated by her beauty, he decides to take the girl to the palace.

An engagement ceremony is held for Lileya and Stepan. The celebration is interrupted by the gaiduki, who order Stepan to come to the palace to serve the Prince. Freedom-loving Stepan does not obey the order and, with the blessing of his father, flees to the Zaporozhian Sich.

The Prince and his gaiduki come to take Lileya, but she refuses and runs away to find Stepan. Exhausted after being chased by the gaiduki, she falls asleep by a lake in the forest. Lileya dreams of being surrounded by a group of mermaids at the bottom of the lake. The Queen of the Mermaids invites her to dance and she suddenly sees her beloved Stepan among them. However, the dream melts like a mirage. Lileya awakes and finds herself surrounded by the gaiduki. The Prince triumphs, having caught the charming Lileya, and she is carried off to the palace.

Act 2

Learning that the Prince took his beloved to the palace, Stepan gathers a band of friends to rescue Lileya.

In an exquisite park of the palace, a dramatized ball is to be held, which attracts guests of renown. Serf actors present the drama “The Court of Paris”, in which the Prince plays the role of Paris to get close to Lileya, who plays the role of Helen of Troy.

The play ends in a Bacchanalia for the guests, which is interrupted when a frightened hajduk appears to announce that the palace is surrounded by rebels. The guests are gripped by fear.

Stepan comes in with his band. The Prince shoots at Stepan, but Lileya covers him with her body and is shot. Dying, the girl blossoms into a beautiful white lily.

Appendix 2

Libretto of Lileya

From the production staged by German Isupov for the Lviv National Opera and Ballet Theatre

Act 1

It is a warm summer night, the eve of the Saint John the Baptist Feast in a Ukrainian village and the village gather to celebrate. In accordance with tradition, girls throw garlands of flowers onto the river to predict their future. The most beautiful among them is Lileya, and all the young men are charmed by her. However, she loves only Stepan, her childhood friend, and their love is mutual. Lileya and Stepan ask the Prince’s permission for their engagement. At first, the Prince agrees, but seeing the girl’s beauty, he decides to separate the couple. He orders for Lileya to be brought to his castle and for Stepan to come as a servant. However, the community decides to send Stepan to Zaporozhian Sich and to protect Lileya from the Prince.

Act 2

The Prince’s soldiers search for Lileya. Exhausted, Lileya hides on the bank of a lake, where she is found by a group of gypsies. The gypsies take care of the girl and help her to escape the soldiers. Lileya falls asleep and dreams a strange dream in which Stepan is surrounded by dancing mermaids. But suddenly, she awakes.

Blind folk singers – the kobzars – are approaching the lake. Stepan is among them. On his way to Zaporozhian Sich, he was caught and blinded by the Prince’s soldiers. The Prince appears and wants to kill the helpless Stepan, but Lileya protects her beloved. People come to help the young couple. The peasants kill the dishonourable Prince, and the blind Stepan calls to fight for freedom and happiness.

Support Ukraine and Ukrainian culture

Ukraine still needs our help, so below are links for several organisations to which you can donate, including Ukrainian International Ballet. Please give what you can, any donation, no matter how big or small, makes all the difference. Let us all do our part to keep helping and supporting our Ukrainian brothers and sisters.

UNITED24 - The initiative of the President of Ukraine

DONATE - Netherlands for Ukraine Foundation

DEC - Ukraine Humanitarian Appeal

British Red Cross - Ukraine Crisis Appeal

Support Ukrainian International Ballet

Sources

• Ania Nikulina, Ballet in Ukraine: A Site of Tension Between Imperialism and Nationalism (2020). University of California, USA

• Christina Erzahi, Swans of the Kremlin: Ballet and Power in Soviet Russia (2012). University of Pittsburgh Press & Dance Books Ltd, Pittsburgh, PA/Hampshire UK

• The Complete Kobzar: The Poetry of Taras Shevchenko, translated from the Ukrainian by Peter Fedynsky (2013). Glagoslav Publications Ltd

• Wikipedia - Taras Shevchenko, Lileya (pages in English and Ukrainian)

• Serhii Plokhy, The Gates of Europe: A History of Ukraine (2015). Penguin Books, 2016 ed. UK

• Anne Applebaum, Red Famine: Stalin’s War on Ukraine (2017). Penguin Books, UK

• National Opera of Ukraine - Lileya (English and Ukrainian)

• Taras Shevchenko Museum

• Lviv National Opera and Ballet Theatre - Lileya

References

On the 23rd and 24th January 2026, High Points Youth Ballet returned to the stage for their annual Christmas performance with a brand new production of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker.

Commissioned by the Managing Director and Founder, Rana O’Brien, this new production marks new beginnings for HPYB. As of September 2025, the youth company is now under the leadership of a new Artistic Director, Adéla Liškova.

Born in the Czech Republic into a dancing family, Adéla started dancing at the age of 3, beginning her training at her parents’ dance school, TC R.A.K. Beroun, and later trained at the Prague Dance Conservatory. In 2019, she joined the junior company Area Jeune Ballet in Geneva, Switzerland, earning a bachelor’s degree in contemporary dance and improvisation technique. That same year, she joined the Royal Ballet Fehervár in Hungary as an apprentice and in 2022, she became a member of the Ballet of the National Theatre of Miskolc, where one of her roles included Tatiana in John Cranko’s Onegin. Alongside her dancing career, Adéla has worked as a teacher and has taught in various schools in France, Switzerland, Hungary and the Czech Republic.

This new Nutcracker for HPYB is Adéla’s first major project with the youth company, but it is also a collaboration between multiple artists from far and wide, brought together by Rana. Adéla served as one of several choreographers; others were former HPYB teacher Argyro Tsampazi, new teacher Neil Towers and Artistic Director of S-MB Company Sara-Maria Barton. But the majority of the ballet was choreographed by Turkish Ballet Masters Volkan Ersoy and Murat Akaoglu.

Born in Bursa, Turkey, Volkan trained at the Hacettepe University State Conservatory and joined the Turkish State Opera and Ballet in 1993, where he was a leading soloist and principal dancer. Since 2008, he has served as ballet master and teacher in several companies and schools across Türkiye, Artistic Director of the Ankara State Opera and Ballet and the Deputy General Director of the Samsun State Opera and Ballet. He has staged and choreographed many ballets in Türkiye including Swan Lake, The Sleeping Beauty, The Nutcracker, Romeo and Juliet, The Firebird, The Three Musketeers, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Lady of the Camellias, Troy and The Great Gatsby.

Murat was a principal dancer with the Istanbul and Izmir State Ballet Companies and the Landestheater in Austria. He later served as Artistic Director of the Antalya, Samsun, and Izmir State Ballet Companies. His career has taken him across the world — from Germany and Austria to China, Canada, Thailand, Macedonia, Kosovo, Dubai, Georgia, and Uzbekistan. He currently works as a company teacher with the Izmir State Ballet.

For the casting, the students of HPYB were performing with S-MB Company and Second Chance Ballet, two of their most frequent collaborators. There were also two professional guest artists - Luc Burns, an alumni of Rana’s School of Ballet and former member of Varna State Opera and Ballet Theatre, and Sead Vuniqi, a principal dancer of the National Ballet of Kosovo.

With The Nutcracker, what did this new team bring to the HPYB repertoire? The answer: something fresh and a revival that was needed.

This Nutcracker introduces several choreographic elements that Volkan and Murat brought from Türkiye, introducing western audiences to some new sightings that one does not often see in this ballet, which gave the production a good level of originality. It also uses some choreography that is known in Sir Peter Wright’s production for the Royal Ballet, which, in some respects, brings HPYB closer to the original choreography by Lev Ivanov. That, itself, is a step in the right direction in bringing something new and fresh to the Belfast ballet scene because where better to turn to than the ballet’s origins?

Complimenting the production visually were digital backdrops, which worked well, especially in the Snowy Forest scene, and beautiful costumes designed by Ffiona Dunbar, Katrina Larmour, Laura Murphy and Hilary Crawford.

This review covers the first performance on the 23rd January. After the overture, the ballet opened with Act 1, scene 1; the Christmas Eve party at the home of Dr Stalhbaum. Among the guests is the magician and dollmaker Herr Drosselmeyer (Chee Shong Soon), godfather to the Stalhbaum children, Clara (Alayna McIlmunn) and Fritz (Kai Murray).

The first act is rarely the most exciting in many Nutcracker productions, but this staging had some good moments and numbers. The Marche was a nice dance for the children, musical and not choreographically complex, with Fritz as something of a leader. There was also a new version of the children’s dance for a new character - Mother Bonbon (Armany Rose Thompson) and her little Bonbons. These characters are clearly based on Mother Ginger (or Mere Gigogne) and her little polichinelles and their dance number was short and sweet, fitting for the party.

The highlight of the party scene was, of course, the Dances of the Dolls, performed by Harlequin (Emma Rice) and Columbine (Ella Thompson). In an interesting staging, Harlequin and Columbine danced both dolls’ dances, which proved very effective and worked well. They began on a soft note with the first number, where they danced to nicely-staged legato choreography with perfect square doll arms. But then, with a bit of magic from Drosselmeyer, they turned up the energy levels with a faster, more lively dance to the second number. Emma and Ella each danced brilliantly with good technique and musicality, and both brought the right amount of energy to each number.

After came the giving of the presents, ending with Drosselmeyer giving Clara a Nutcracker doll. Clara’s dance with the Nutcracker was performed beautifully by Alayna, who is one of HPYB’s top junior students. Not even 13 years old, Alayna has shown her talent on many occasions and this was no exception. She danced Clara’s solo with grace, good technique and musicality, and beautiful lines. One thing that this production presents plenty of is musical choreography, a vital element of Petipa and Ivanov, something I always look for in productions of the classics. Without musicality, the choreography and the music do not gel.

When the party came to an end, concluding scene one, it was time for the magic to begin. Clara reappeared, searching for the Nutcracker, and fell asleep in the armchair. Suddenly, out popped the mice, who disturbed and surrounded her, and then, out from the fireplace emerged the Mouse Queen (Ella Fitzpatrick). The changing of the gender of the villain was a smart move, not because the performer is female, but because in the original story by E.T.A. Hoffmann, the secondary villain is Queen Mouse. The Mouse Queen chased the frightened Clara around the stage, until the latter hit the former with the Nutcracker doll. Afterwards, the Nutcracker (Luc Burns) appeared with six soldiers and the battle began. Due to the small number of dancers, the battle was staged on a very small scale, but it worked. It all ended after a mortal combat between the Nutcracker and the Mouse Queen. The former dealt the fatal blow but was knocked out unconscious simultaneously when the latter stabbed him with her claws.

The mice carried their dead queen off stage, the soldiers surrounded the Nutcracker and the distraught Clara burst into tears before the stage darkened. Moments later, it relit to reveal the grown-up Clara (Aoife Finnieston) and the transformed Nutcracker-Prince (Sead Vuniqi) and then came one of the two highlights of the entire first act - the Journey Pas de deux. This staging of the pas de deux was beautifully simple and eloquent, not jam-packed with too much material and was brilliantly performed by the two dancers. One of HPYB’s top students, Aoife graced the stage with strong technique, elegance and beautiful lines, and she was partnered very well by Sead, who proved to be a fine dancer and good partner.

Then came one of the highlights of the whole production - the Waltz of the Snowflakes. This version was staged by Adéla, who based it on the versions by Sir Peter Wright and Vasily Vainonen. The final result was fantastic and gave the first act the wonderful conclusion it needed. The corps de ballet was strong and had been very well prepared and coached, and the choreography was perfect for this number, with its non-intricate group patterns and waving hands, giving the right snowy sensations that one expects from waltzing snowflakes. Adding to the magic were two more of HPYB’s top students - Tess French and Zara Crawford - as soloist snowflakes and both were a joy to watch with their technical prowess and elegant lines. Clara and the Nutcracker-Prince did not feature in the waltz until the very end when they re-entered and the Prince whisked Clara away as the curtain fell. That, alone, scores high points because this production presented the Waltz of the Snowflakes as it should be - a wonderful dance for the corps de ballet with some added magic brought by two beautiful soloists who are a part of the world it is set in, not an interference.

After the interval came Act 2, set in the magical world of the Land of Sweets. The curtain opened to reveal Tess French, this time, as the elegant Dewdrop Fairy, surrounded by some of her fellow inhabitants of the kingdom. Shortly after, Clara (danced again by Alayna McIlmunn) and the Nutcracker-Prince arrived and Dewdrop introduced more inhabitants - dancers from Spain, Arabia, China and, Russia, Marzipan, Mother Bonbon, Sugar Crystal and finally, the Sugar Plum Fairy (Madison Crawford). And so began the divertissements.

Act 2 was everything it should be - a glittering festival of wonderful dancing. The choreography had plenty of originality, excitement and technical challenges, all of which proved to suit the technical abilities of the dancers.

The divertissements started with the Spanish Dance, a beautifully choreographed piece from start to finish, full of Spanish flavour, performed excellently by Zara Crawford and Aoife Finnieston, who both showcased Spanish-style grace and a good amount of fiery energy. Second came the Arabian Dance, performed by Jada-Jo Branney, Martha Buggy, Lily Morris, Lois Wright and Sophie Robertson of S-MB Company. What a delight this number was with its gorgeous choreography that perfectly echoed the music and contained a small touch of modernism while still maintaining the classical style. Each of the girls showcased wonderfully elegant Arabian-style gestures and positions, further complimenting their performances with beautiful lines, good teamwork and capturing the atmosphere that is delivered by the music.

After came the Chinese Dance, performed by Annabelle Brown and Amelia Bell. A charming, delightful little number, it was mainly built up of challenging footwork with the arms kept in the same square position with pointed finger gestures and both girls delivered stellar performances. Then came the Russian Dance, performed by Lauren Hanna and Clara Brewster. The trepak is as energetic as ever, thanks to both the new choreography and Lauren and Clara’s lively performances.

The fifth dance was the Dance of the Reed Pipes, performed by Marzipan, danced by Fifi Marland-Ross, Maisie Lucas, Niamh Kennedy, and Clara. This new pas de quatre for four female dancers was a more than welcomed departure from the previously-used Vainonen pas de trois, which I have always found very tacky and an unsuitable concept for this number. The slowed-down tempo of the music never helps either. Thankfully, here, the music was restored to its correct tempo, which the girls were more than capable of handling well. On top of that, while the choreography is new, the concept is closer to the original by Lev Ivanov, which gives it extra points. All four girls danced beautifully with good technique, musicality and a lovely warmth brought by their teamwork. This was a new version of the Dance of the Reed Pipes that gave some of HPYB’s junior students a perfect opportunity to shine and they did.

Next came a new number, unfamiliar to many - the English gigue. The gigue was composed by Tchaikovsky on Petipa’s instructions for a divertissements of national dances that was intended to be performed by the children in Act 1. The dances that Petipa instructed from Tchaikovsky included an English gigue, an Italian tarantella, a Russian dance and a French cancan. However, after Tchaikovsky had started composing the score, plans changed and the Act 1 divertissement was scrapped. Some of the numbers Tchaikovsky had composed were used elsewhere - the tarantella became the Prince’s variation in the Act 2 Grand Pas de deux, but others, including the gigue, were cut. The piano score for the gigue survived and was eventually discovered by the Australian conductor Sir John Lanchberry, who orchestrated it and brought it to the West, but it is rarely performed, mainly appearing in several American productions, including those by John Clifford and Stanton Welch.

In the HPYB production, the gigue was performed by a new character called Sugar Crystal, who was danced by Zara Turpie of S-MB Company. Zara is one of S-MB’s top students and in this number, she more than sparkled with brilliance. The choreographers did not hold back on this one, presenting technically challenging choreography, that ended on a sequence that started with pirouettes en dehors et en dedans and finished with a short fouetté sequence, all of which Zara performed with such ease, technical prowess and wonderfully lively energy. She was a perfect choice of casting for this new number. This inclusion was one of the highlights of the whole production and one can only hope that more productions will use this rarely-used treasure.

The seventh dance was the return of Mother Bonbon and her little bonbons. It was a welcome change to have a Mother Ginger character dancing the number that was composed for her as she is often absent in modern productions. Armany Rose Thompson danced the role very well and the little bonbons were well danced by some of HPYB’s youngest students.

Then came the Waltz of the Flowers, performed by a corps de ballet of twelve flowers adorned in lilac, led by the Dewdrop Fairy. Like with the Waltz of the Snowflakes, this Waltz of the Flowers was made up of musical choreography and effective group patterns, giving both waltzes a good touch of the Petipa and Ivanov style. The corps be ballet was well-rehearsed, each girl worked very hard and as a group, they performed well. As Dewdrop, Tess French was given another chance to shine and to remind us why she is one of HPYB’s top students. She performed with strong technique, beautiful grace and elegant lines, giving her own touches to the role and adding plenty of flowery magic.

Finally came the Grand Pas de deux, performed by the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker-Prince. This Pas de deux follows the Royal Ballet’s version, which many agree is the closet to the original by Ivanov. Madison Crawford, another of HYPB’s top students, and Sead Vuniqi brilliantly performed the adagio, with Sead strongly partnering Madison, who, in turn, performed every step with such ease that one would not think that this was her début in this version. Sead soared through his short variation with multiple double tours and the commonly used difficult final combination from Vainonen’s male variation.

Afterwards, Madison returned with the Variation of the Sugar Plum Fairy, again, in a version closer to Ivanov’s á la the Royal Ballet. This variation proved more than suitable for Madison’s technical abilities and in no way did the choreography undermine her. She performed with technical prowess, good speed and musicality, and natural grace. This variation of the Sugar Plum Fairy is one she was clearly born to do. The Pas de deux came to a close with the coda, which gained a very deserved round of applause, not in the least due to Madison’s fouetté sequence, which she well executed.

Then, it was time for everything to come to a close with the Grand finale, which saw Clara and all the dancers from the divertissement return for a final dance. Interestingly, in this production, there was no epilogue and instead, the curtain closed on everyone in a final tableau. While this may seem unusual to western audiences, this is a finale that Volkan and Murat brought with them from Türkiye, so rather it’s something different and it brought the ballet to a very exciting close.

In conclusion, High Points Youth Ballet marks the beginning of a new chapter with a fresh, new production. Much effort, heart and soul was put into bringing this Nutcracker to the stage and the results were exactly what the youth company needed; a successful new production that showcased the talents of its students and new collaborations that can expand the Belfast ballet circle far and wide. A more than fine start to a new beginning. One can look only forward to seeing what the new artistic team of HPYB next brings to the stage in the not-too distant future.

For the 2025/26 Christmas season, the Royal Ballet brought back The Nutcracker in the beloved production by British ballet icon, Sir Peter Wright, who celebrated his 99th birthday in November 2025.

Wright’s production is perhaps one of the most popular in the west. His aim was to follow the original 1892 production in many respects and he worked with renowned musicologist Prof. Roland John Wiley, a Tchaikovsky scholar, who had studied the notation scores by Nikolai Sergeyev of the choreography that was danced in Saint Petersburg before the 1917 Revolution. He also incorporated some elements from the original story by E.T.A. Hoffmann, most notably the Nutcracker being Drosselmeyer’s nephew, named Hans-Peter in this staging.

Wright’s original production premièred in December 1984 at the Royal Opera House and was recorded by the BBC the following year. This recording is available on DVD and features an all-star British ballet cast - Lesley Collier as the Sugar Plum Fairy, Sir Anthony Dowell as her Cavalier, Julie Rose as Clara, Guy Niblett as the Nutcracker/Hans-Peter and Michael Coleman as Drosselmeyer. However, over the years, The production has undergone a number of changes after Wright revised it in 2001. Some of the changes he introduced were taken from his second Nutcracker production that he staged for Birmingham Royal Ballet in 1990. Others were made solely to his Royal Ballet staging. Unfortunately, because of many of these changes, this production, which was originally something of a masterpiece, has lost some of its charm.

I attended the live cinema screening of the performance held on the 10th December 2025 at The Avenue Cinema in Belfast. It had been some time since I had last watched a recent staging of this production, so I was looking forward to seeing it again. The role of Clara was danced and performed beautifully by Marianna Tsembenhoi. Playing Drosselmeyer was James Hay, who was making his début, and proved to be a wonderful Drosselmeyer, giving the role just the right amount of energy that it requires. Taisuke Nakao danced Hans-Peter with good technique and partnered Tsembenhoi well. Claire Calvert appeared as an elegant Rose Fairy in the Waltz of the Flowers. Dancing the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Prince were Mayara Magri and Reece Clarke. However, for this review, it’s the production that I want to focus on rather than the performances.

The ballet opens with a short prologue in Drosselmeyer’s workshop, where he and his assistant (a clown or jester) are preparing to depart for the Stahlbaum’s Christmas Eve party. He packs away an angel he has made for the Stahlbaum’s Christmas tree. Then, he takes a Nutcracker doll before taking a few minutes to remember his nephew, whose portrait is hanging on the wall. I am not against this prologue; it helps to stir up some excitement and it is a nice introduction, but it does not fit with Tchaikovsky’s magical overture. Nevertheless, it sets off the story.

In most productions of The Nutcracker, it’s the second act that’s the better of the two acts, but in this production, that prize goes to the first act. The impressive décor and stage effects, especially in the battle scene, certainly help in that regard. In my opinion, Wright’s staging of the first act, especially the party scene, is one of the best. It opens with a short scene in the street, showing the guests arriving at the Stahlbaum house before revealing the parlour. All the guests enter, including Drosselmeyer, who arrives with his goofy assistant (a complete downgrade from his original two assistants, who were not clowns or jesters), and presents the angel, which is placed at the top of the tree. When everyone has gathered, the angel suddenly appears life-size, but only Clara can see her while everyone else freezes; a sign that something is coming.

Afterwards, the dancing starts with the Marche. This has been slightly rechoreographed from Wright’s original, using one or two sequences from the version for Birmingham Royal Ballet. It is danced by Clara, a male guest and the children after they all receive their gifts from Clara’s mother and father. This brings us to one major shortcoming in the party scene - the male guest who partners Clara in the Marche. This young man is clearly a suitor for our heroine, another element from the BRB production. However, the addition of this character does not work because when Clara later finds her real suitor, the presence of this one only proves pointless. On top of that, this suitor is substituting Fritz, who was originally danced by an adult in this production and served as Clara’s partner in the Marche. Now, he is danced by a child and does not take part in the Marche. Wright’s original concept made more sense.

Afterwards comes another BRB element - Clara’s mother, who is a former dancer, takes to the floor for a short solo dance. But this is another shortcoming because Wright’s original dance, which was performed by Clara, Fritz and the children, was better. Luckily, he retained his original concept for what follows with the appearances of Saint Nicholas and two Krampuses, who gift the children with sweets. The additions of Saint Nicholas, the two Krampuses and the Angel win extra points from me. The former three are an excellent reference to Christmas traditions from Germany (where The Nutcracker is set), and the Angel provides a perfect connection between the first and second acts, keeping a good flow in the narrative.

Then, it is time for the Dances of the Dolls, but not before having to endure Drosselmeyer’s annoying clown randomly dancing as he introduces the magician (another BRB element). When Drosselmeyer finally emerges, he performs some magic tricks and then, it’s onto the dancing. The dolls’ dances of Harlequin and Columbine, and the Soldier and the Vivandiere are nicely staged and were performed very well, and are among the best versions, not in the least due to their charm and the very doll-like choreography. After the dancing, Drosselmeyer gifts Clara with the Nutcracker doll, which she places in her dollhouse after Fritz breaks it and Drosselmeyer mends it.

After the party scene is the scene at midnight when Clara returns to look for the Nutcracker and strange things begin to happen. After the stroke of midnight on the owl clock, the wall switches to reveal Drosselmeyer in the clock’s place, instead of Drosselmeyer sitting on top of the clock in the owl’s place. But there is now also a reappearance of the dancing dolls, who push Clara around in a wheelchair, which doesn’t really add anything other than confusion as to why they need a second appearance… and it is an unwelcomed reminder of Yuri Grigorovich’s production. Then comes one of the best moments of the production - the Christmas tree growing and the changing of scenery into the battle scene. What makes this scene spectacular is the use of stage machinery and special effects that many ballet productions are devoid of. The changing of the scenery and the growing of the Christmas tree are impressively done in this production, making this one of the best transformation scenes. It is a reminder that a ballet production is also a theatrical production and that the story ballets, especially the classics, should not exclude stage machinery and special effects that contribute to the telling of the story, especially those were magic happens. Even in ballet, it’s good to have a break from the dancing so we can watch the sets change in an impressive fashion.

The battle scene is one that many Nutcracker productions struggle with, but Wright’s staging is among the best because it looks and feels like a battle. Some versions are too polished and lack drama, whereas this one has just about the right level of chaos and drama but is balanced and co-ordinated, and doesn’t go over-the-top. Many of the characters are played by students, which means more characters are present (i.e. dolls and toys), so the Nutcracker is not unfairly outnumbered like he is in some productions. The dancers and the students who participated in the battle as the dolls and the mice did a great job, as did the Nutcracker and the Mouse King, though I feel the Mouse King’s presence is too short in this version. All ends in triumph when Clara hits the Mouse King with her slipper, giving the Nutcracker the chance to kill him.

Onto the scene of The Journey when the Nutcracker transforms into Hans-Peter, Drosselmeyer’s lost nephew, much to Clara’s amazement and delight, and they dance together. The Journey Pas de deux is something that I have always deemed as one of the biggest flaws of modern Nutcracker productions. While I don’t deny that the choreography is beautiful, my problem is that it doesn’t help with the transition into the magical world. In other words, despite its title, it doesn’t come across as a journey, but a very randomly-placed pas de deux between two people who have just met. This might work in Romeo and Juliet, but not so much The Nutcracker, or in Swan Lake for that matter when Odette and Prince Siegfried’s all-important mime scene in their first meeting is replaced with the silly mini pas de deux that was added in Soviet productions.

Again, this is something that Wright did better the first time. In his original production, this number was a journey; it started with Clara weeping over the Nutcracker before he was revived and transformed back into Hans-Peter. They greeted each other and briefly danced together until Drosselmeyer appeared in the chariot that is “driven” by the angel, accompanied by more angels. He greeted Clara and Hans-Peter and invited them to climb into the chariot, and the remainder of the music saw the two travel in the chariot to the snowy forest. That made more sense; it made the transition from one world to another much smoother.

After the pas de deux, Clara and Hans Peter find themselves in the snowy forest, where Drosselmeyer and the group of angels greet them. Then, with a wave from Drosselmeyer, snowflakes appear and thus begins the Waltz of the Snowflakes.

Wright’s Waltz of the Snowflakes is beautiful, with musical choreography and excellent group patterns, further complimented by beautiful costumes and wigs… at least when it’s only the Snowflakes on stage. Unfortunately, it falls short due to Clara and Hans-Peter now dancing in it, another change incorporated from the BRB version. This is disappointing because this is supposed to be a dance for the corps de ballet, but including Clara and Hans-Peter (or the Nutcracker Prince) only proves unnecessary and interfering because it takes away from what should be a spectacular dance for a large corps de ballet. Once again, Wright did this better in his original version where Clara and Hans-Peter only made a brief appearance among the snowflakes before the latter resumed their waltz.

Onto the second act, set in the Land of Sweets, where Clara and Hans-Peter meet the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier. After the mimed passage from Hans-Peter about how he had been turned into a Nutcracker, battled the Mouse King and was rescued by Clara, the Sugar Plum Fairy presents the two with gifts, including a diamond necklace for Clara, one of the few changes from the original that works. Then, it is time for the divertissements.

However, the divertissements in this production are weak, not in the least because of more changes, but mostly because Clara and Hans-Peter dance in some of them (the Spanish and Chinese Dances, the Trepak, the Reed Pipes and the Waltz of the Flowers), which does not help and only takes away the charm and the fun of this dancing festival.

One of the biggest disappointments came in the form of the Dance of the Reed Pipes because not only does Clara dance in it, it has now been shortened in length by half. Again, what was originally done was better; Wright’s original Reed Pipes was performed by five dancers - four coryphées and a leading soloist - and was the proper length. In fact, his original version was one of the best versions of this dance number, so it’s such a shame it’s now only half the length.

More disappointments were the changes that have since been made to the Arabian and Chinese Dances. The Arabian Dance is now a pas de deux instead of a pas de quatre because two of the male soloists have been omitted. While the choreography is still impressive, as a pas de deux, it lacks compared to Wright’s original pas de quatre. The Arabian Dance, is one of those numbers where more than two dancers is required to give it atmosphere, energy and charisma. When it’s staged as a pas de deux, it doesn’t project as much excitement, especially in productions where it just comes across as a Scheherazade rip-off. The Chinese Dance is performed by two male dancers instead of four, but the number has clearly fallen victim to political correctness because the dancers no longer wear hats and carry prop fans and umbrellas, and they no longer use the pointed finger gestures. And having Clara and Hans-Peter joining in the dance doesn’t help either. All these exclusions and the inclusion of the formers only drain the number of most of its energy and charisma, leaving a very flat and uninteresting dance.

Then we have the Waltz of the Flowers. Wright apparently used some of the floor plans from the notation scores in his original version, but the whole number has undergone revision and is now the BRB version, complete with the character the Rose Fairy (who replaces Wright’s original three female soloists). While I think the Rose Fairy is a nice addition, the role does not work because Clara and Hans-Peter participate in the waltz and inadvertently overshadow her. If they didn’t participate, like they didn’t in Wright’s original waltz, the Rose Fairy would work better. Or it would’ve been better if Wright had simply retained his original waltz and renamed the original three soloists as “the Rose Fairies” or “the Flower Fairies”. This is at least one reason why George Balanchine’s character Dew Drop works…

And finally came the Grand Pas de deux performed by the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Prince, one of the highlights of the whole production. Wright’s version is one of the best with its musical choreography, just the right number of impressive lifts that come at the right moments and its poetic partnering. It is also the closet to the original by Lev Ivanov, at least in terms of the adagio and the Variation of the Sugar Plum Fairy. One unfortunate loss, however, is the omission of the “reika effect”, a stage trick that was used in the original 1892 production and is still used in Balanchine’s production. Wright originally used this with the Sugar Plum Fairy standing on one end of a veil while her Prince gently supported her by holding the other end while she moved across the stage as if she was gliding. It was an impressive element, so it’s a shame that it’s since been removed.

After everyone from Act 2 comes together for the final dance, it is time for the magical adventure to end. The ending is the only change that is a major improvement from the original. Clara is seen out on the street when she runs into Hans-Peter, who asks her for directions to which she points him. It is only when they go in separate directions that they begin to recognise each other. Clara also realises that she is wearing the necklace that the Sugar Plum Fairy gave her, which confirms that the magical adventure was real. The ballet ends where it began in Drosselmeyer’s workshop, where Hans-Peter returns and the uncle and nephew have a joyful reunion.

Overall, Sir Peter Wright’s production remains a beautiful production, but due to the many changes it has undergone over the years, it has lost much of its charm. The sets and costumes somewhat make up for where the choreography lacks, but what is unfortunate is that most of the changes Wright has since made were not necessary. Like they say, “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it,” a piece of advice that applies to a number of new productions that have been popping up in the last couple of years and some that are still to come, but for different reasons.

Despite its shortcomings, this production of The Nutcracker still brings a lot of joy to ballet lovers and the dancers who perform in it, and it is still a good Christmas treat, though I cannot help but wish that many of the changes could be undone.

From the 18th - 22nd November 2025, the State Ballet of Georgia performed at the Grand Opera House in Belfast, Northern Ireland. For the company’s tour to Ireland, they brought every ballet lover’s favourite Christmas treat - The Nutcracker, in a production staged by Artistic Director Nina Ananiashvili and Alexei Fadeyechev.

Composed by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky and originally choreographed by Lev Ivanov, The Nutcracker premièred on the 18th December [O.S. 6th December] 1892 at the Imperial Mariinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg. The ballet did not enjoy a great success, but it slowly gained popularity throughout the 20th century. Today, it is perhaps the most popular ballet in the repertoire.

Last year, I saw the State Ballet of Georgia perform in Swan Lake in the Bord Gais Theatre in Dublin and I attended their evening Nutcracker performance on the 20th November. Their Swan Lake production, also staged by Ananiashvili and Fadeyechev, is based on the old Bolshoi version staged by Asaf Messerer after Alexander Gorsky, and I was left disappointed by the lacklustre production. I wasn’t sure what to expect of their Nutcracker, but I had hoped it might be better than their Swan Lake. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

Ananiashvili and Fadeyechev’s The Nutcracker did have some levels of entertainment, but it only proved to have the same problems as their Swan Lake. While the décor and costumes were nice and colourful and the dancers gave stellar performances with accomplished technique and musicality, none of that made up for yet another lacklustre production. Just like Swan Lake, this Nutcracker is heavily based on the Bolshoi version, in this case, the late Yuri Grigorovich’s version, first staged in 1966, which is still a prominent member of the Bolshoi repertoire.

From what I have seen so far with the State Ballet of Georgia, it becomes all too clear that the influence of the Bolshoi, especially Grigorovich, is just too strong on the directorship. Ananiashvili and Fadeyechev are both former Bolshoi principal dancers and were schooled and raised in Grigorovich’s cult. And the results of such schooling are not good.

For this Nutcracker, the only supposed effort to make the production unique in any way is that the setting of the story has been changed from Germany to the Georgian capital of Tbilisi and the characters have been given Georgian names - Clara is renamed Barbare; her brother Fritz is renamed Levan and the family name is now Dadiani instead of Stalbaum. Only Drosselmeyer is still German. In the party scene, the boys and adults (except Drosselmeyer) all wear traditional Georgian attire, but changing the setting of the story is not enough to make a production unique; it’s the choreography and the staging that does that. This production was just basically Grigorovich’s Nutcracker set in Georgia, with a few changes and new additions here and there.

After Tchaikovsky’s delightful overture, the ballet started with an opening in a street in Tbilisi where the guests for the Dadiani family’s Christmas party were arriving. This scene was nicely staged, depicting some fun in the snow, including snowball fights with the children and a little bit of comedy from a couple of drunkards. The last to arrive was Drosselmeyer, who, as he is in Russian/Soviet productions, was a danced role as opposed to a purely mimed role. Afterwards, the stage darkened and relit to reveal the parlour of the Dadiani house where the Christmas tree had been lit and the family and their guests gathered for the party.

The dances started with the famous Marche, which was very similar, if not the same as Grigorovich’s, in which Levan (Fritz), Barbare (Clara) and the other children danced with their new presents. Like in Grigorovich’s version, the children were played by adults and Levan and the boys were played by women in travesty. But why not just use students, girls and boys?

After the dances of the children and the guests, it was time for Drosselmeyer’s show of dancing dolls. The first doll dance was danced by Harlequin and Columbine dolls, which was a lovely pas de deux, but not doll-like enough. It was lacking fast, staccato steps and movements that one would expect from doll dances. The second doll dance was danced by the Nutcracker, who remained life-sized and was played by a dancer throughout the whole first scene (no doll or puppet). Barbare and Levan fought over the Nutcracker doll and danced with him. This was another element taken from Grigorovich, but the choreography was quite clumsy and uncoordinated. After the final dance, the party ended and concluded with another scene in the outside street as the guests departed.

The next scene took us back into the dark Dadiani home. Drosselmeyer re-entered and suddenly, mice began to appear. Barbare entered and Drosselmeyer seemed to put her in a trance. Then, he suddenly went into a very un-Drosselmeyer mode when he began dancing choreography that made him look like the Evil Genie from the Russian/Soviet productions of Swan Lake. Not the most suitable choreography for a good magician and/or wizard. Then came the moment when Drosselmeyer makes the Christmas tree grow, which led to yet another Grigorovich element - the appearance of the foreign dolls from the Act 2 divertissements. After the Christmas tree grew, it revealed a magic door (with moving eyes on the frame above, which was a little creepy). Drosselmeyer opened the door and out came the dolls. Last to emerge was the Mouse King, carried on the shoulders of some of his mice. The dolls ran away in terror, while the Nutcracker sprung to life and thus began the battle.

The battle scene was very devoid of drama and was not a very convincing fight scene. Along with a small army of toy soldiers (all danced by women in travesty) to assist the Nutcracker, some of the foreign dolls also took part. When I say “take part”, at least two attempted to help the Nutcracker fight and even fired a cannon at the mice before cowering out and running away. Perhaps these dancers should’ve been cast as more toy soldiers? That way, the Nutcracker would have had a bigger army. After a fight between the Nutcracker and the Mouse King, Barbare, with some egging on from Drosselmeyer, came to the rescue by hitting the Mouse King with her slipper and knocking him out. The Nutcracker was also knocked out, until Drosselmeyer scared off the mice and revived him, revealing him to be transformed into a handsome prince and introduced him to Barbare.

The final scene began with the Journey Pas de deux and concluded with the Waltz of the Snowflakes. The Journey Pas de deux and the Waltz of the Snowflakes were the best dances in the first act. The latter was well staged and it began with a short scene in which Barbare and the Nutcracker-Prince joined the dolls for some fun and games in the snow, echoing the party guests in scene 1. Afterwards, in came two groups of eight snowflakes, one after the other, each carrying a giant snowflake and they all gathered for their dance; Barbare and the Nutcracker-Prince also joined in. It ended with Drosselmeyer flying in on a giant ladybird, which Barbare and the Nutcracker exited on.

Act 2 is the most exciting of the two acts of The Nutcracker with the delightful divertissements, but “exciting” is not how I would describe this production’s second act. The opening, again, echoed Grigorovich - Drosselmeyer led the dolls across the stage and they were followed by the Mouse King and his mice. When Barbare and the Nutcracker-Prince arrived, the Mouse King attacked the group, but the Nutcracker fought and killed him. The Land of Sweets was then revealed and enter the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier, whose presence was the only big departure from the Russian/Soviet productions, let alone Grigorovich’s.

The divertissements were nicely staged and well performed; the ones that gained the biggest applause were the Chinese and Russian dances. Yet another Grigorovich element appeared when all the dolls (and Barbare and the Nutcracker) gathered to dance a coda to the music for the Dance of Mother Ginger and her Polichnelles. This is perhaps the most disappointing staging to this music number I have ever seen because its static choreography severely lacks energy and creativity and does not match the upbeat, energetic, exciting nature of the music.

Afterwards came the Waltz of the Flowers… except this wasn’t Waltz of the Flowers, rather a waltz for everyone as all the characters participated, including Barbare and the Nutcracker-Prince, and the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier, along with ten women as flowers. I couldn’t understand the point of including all the characters in the waltz, especially when the foreign dolls had already had their dances and the Grand Pas de deux was about to come. Whatever the reasons of this decision, it presented a different version of the Waltz of the Flowers, but not an impressive one; it just painted a very confusing picture made up of unnecessary details.

Finally came the Grand Pas de deux performed by the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier, and this proved to be the best dance of the whole production, let alone the second act. Afterwards, everyone came together for the final dance and the ballet ended with Barbare waking up from her dream back home. She was greeted by her parents, Levan and Drosselmeyer and she and Levan made peace when the latter let her have the Nutcracker doll and then, Drosselmeyer presented Levan with a doll-sized nutcracker, thus concluding the ballet.

Despite the many shortcomings of the production, the evening was not a complete disappointment as the dancers, especially the leads, were worth watching. Sesili Guguchia danced Barbare with stellar technique and a gracious warmth that added to the character. As her Nutcracker-Prince was Joshua Nunamaker, with whom she was excellently paired. Nunamaker served as a good partner and presented excellent bravura, especially in his jumps and pirouettes.

Dancing the Sugar Plum Fairy was world-renowned principal ballerina Anastasia Matvienko, who presented excellent bravura, beautiful lines and grace, especially in her variation. Her Cavalier was danced by Filippo Montanari, who showcased a very impressive jump and accomplished bravura, and strongly partnered Mativenko in the pas de deux.

There’s no denying the talent of the dancers of the State Ballet of Georgia, which is all the more reason why, production-wise, they deserve better than this. Effort was clearly made with the décor and costumes, especially those of Act 2, but the choreography reverts the company to the static style of Sovietism. Either way, it was a pleasure to see them again and it is never Christmas without The Nutcracker.

On the 1st and 2nd August 2025, the Belfast International Ballet Festival returned for its second year. Funded by the Belfast City Council, the event was arranged by the team of High Points Youth Ballet - Rana O’Brien, Jake Allison and Dr Anna Carapelotti - and was held at The MAC in Belfast’s Cathedral Quarter. The first festival that was held last year proved a success and it won the award for Event of the Year - Project at the inaugural Northern Ireland Golden Dance Awards in October 2024. It was a joy to welcome a second festival, to see Belfast showing all its potential as a hotspot for ballet and events that bring national and international ballet and dance artists to the city’s stages.

The festival ran from the 28th July to the 2nd August and consisted of masterclasses, a workshop, a ballet history lecture and culminated in two performances of the returning “Rising Stars Gala”, starring national and international ballet students and professional guest artists from Northern Ireland, the Republic of Ireland, Scotland, Türkiye, Ukraine and the United States.

The Participants

The 2025 festival saw the return of guest artists, schools and youth companies who participated in last year’s festival, and welcomed new participants. The returning performers were the students of High Points Youth Ballet and the Scottish Youth Company S-MB Company; guest students Georgia Crawford and Oscar Hunter, and guest professional dancers Anna McCoy, Rachel Neale, Lauren McConnell, Amy Crawford, Stephen Everson, Oleksii Kniazkov and Elizaveta Gogidze.

Other returnees were guest teacher Sara-Maria Barton, the founder of S-MB Company; Irish choreographer and dancer, Ruaidhrí Maguire and composer Amelia Clarkson; dancers from Second Chance Ballet, a Belfast-based project for adult dancers of all ages and ranges of abilities, and myself, Amy Growcott. I returned to give a ballet history lecture on The Fairy Doll and La Bayadère.

The new participants were students from the Irish National Youth Ballet; Six Dance Collective, a dance company founded in 2023 by Ruaidhrí Maguire and Amelia Clarkson; Irish guest student Adam Donnelly, who is currently training at Northern Ballet School; Turkish guest dancers, Lara Yaman and Doğa Gürtan from the Istanbul University State Conservatory (IUDK); Irish professional dancer Leigh Alderson, a leading dancer with Ballett Cottbus in Germany; professional dance artist Katie Robb, and American professional dancer Angela Zielen, a leading dancer of First State Ballet Theatre in Willington, Delaware.

The festival also welcomed guest teacher Ayfer Zeren and choreographer Zoë Ashe-Browne. Ayfer is a former Turkish ballerina with the Istanbul State Opera and Ballet, of which she is also the former Artistic Director. She is now a leading teacher at the IUDK and for the festival, she gave a series of masterclasses. Zoë is an Irish choreographer and dancer, who has danced with companies all over Europe and is currently Artist in Residence at Luail, Ireland’s national dance company.

With this wonderful line-up of artists from near, far and wide, the audiences were in for a fantastic, ballet-ful treat.

The Festival

This year’s gala was again staged in three parts; two mixed bills of classical and contemporary works, and one part dedicated to a particular ballet. It was a very colourful event with a variety of wonderful pieces and performances.

The First Half

The first half was one of the two mixed bills. The performance opened with the Grand Defile, an ensemble piece choreographed by Anna Carapellotti and Jake Allison to the music of the waltz finale from Les Sylphides. It was performed by the students of High Points Youth Ballet and S-MB Company, Georgia Crawford, Oscar Hunter, Adam Donnelly, Lara Yaman, Doğa Gürtan and Stephen Everson. The Grand Defile is a beautiful ensemble piece that was very well choreographed and it proved to be the perfect opening to the show.

After the Grand Defile, the students of Irish National Youth Ballet took to the stage in a piece called Eclipse, choreographed by Zoë Ashe-Browne to music by Alexander Litvinovsky. Eclipse was created as part of the celebrations for the youth company’s 30th anniversary and it was inspired by an original work entitled Irish Airs and Graces that was choreographed for the company’s inaugural performance.

The next performance was one of the highlights of the festival - the La Bayadère Suite. This was made up of three selections from Marius Petipa’s grand ballet La Bayadère - the Act 2 Pas de Quatre, performed by S-MB students Sarah Fairley, Lily Morris, Sophie Robertson and Zara Turpie; Nikiya’s Lament, performed by S-MB student Holly Brown, and excerpts from The Kingdom of the Shades from Act 3, performed by the senior students of High Points Youth Ballet. The excerpts were the Entrance of the Shades, the Waltz, the Variations of the Three Solo Shades and the Coda.

La Bayadère is one of the most challenging ballets in the repertoire, but the students were well prepared. Their hard work and that of their teachers paid off. Holly performed Nikiya’s Lament beautifully with good, controlled technique, but she also did well to capture the temple dancer’s sorrow and heartbreak. The students of HPYB shone as the Shades, especially in the famous Entrance of the Shades, one of the most challenging corps de ballet pieces. Together, they were a strong ensemble presenting a beautiful picture of classicism. The Three Solo Shades were performed by Amelia Larmour, Lucy Dunbar and Kristina Murphy, though the performers of the second and third variations were alternated on the two days - Lucy and Kristina in the first performance and Leah McNally and Georgia Crawford in the second performance. All five soloists performed the variations very well, each managing the difficult choreography with good precision, musicality and stamina.

Afterwards came the first performance by some of the professional artists, Lauren McConnell and Katie Robb - a contemporary piece choreographed by Katie entitled Beginning to End. This piece explores the Irish sense of circular time, reflecting that what was once lost can be found again, that the ending is never truly an end, but a return to origin. A vessel of heritage, grief and hope aligning with Ireland’s long oral tradition where stories are passed on and reshaped, but never forgotten.

Next came the Coppélia Suite, a charming collaboration between two student dancers - Leah McNally of HPYB and Sarah Fairley of S-MB - and members of Second Chance Ballet. The suite included four numbers from Léo Delibes’ Coppélia: the Variation of Dawn, performed by Chantal Saunders of Second Chance Ballet; the Workers’ Variation, danced by six SCB members and two student solo variations that alternated between performances. In the first, Leah performed the Act 3 Variation of Swanilda, and in the second, Sarah danced the Bolero variation from Act 2.

While the choreography for the SCB segments was simplified in places, the adult dancers gave heartfelt and dedicated performances, showing just how much passion and joy dance can bring at any stage of life. Chantal stood out in particular for her graceful and expressive Dawn. Leah and Sarah, both emerging young dancers in full-time ballet training, gave strong, technically refined performances. Leah brought charm and warmth to her variation - often seen as one of her signature pieces - while Sarah impressed with her musicality and growing stage presence.

This intergenerational collaboration added a unique and touching dimension to the festival, blending youthful ambition with lifelong passion.

In the first performance, S-MB student Zara Turpie performed the Variation of Princess Aspicia from Act 1 of Pierre Lacotte’s production of The Pharaoh’s Daughter. At just 13 years old, Zara has already proven to be wonderfully talented for her young age and a rising star. She continues to dazzle the audiences with her performances, and she more than did so at the festival with this technically challenging variation. The future looks very promising for her.

Then came another of the festival highlights - the Adagio of Spartacus and Phrygia from Yuri Grigorovich’s Spartacus, performed by Stephen Everson and Angela Zielen of First State Ballet Theatre. Stephen and Angela gave a stellar performance with technical prowess, and they brought the adagio to life with deep emotions. In her opening solo, Angela danced beautifully, expressing Phrygia’s sorrow with each step, and when Stephen joined her, they showcased an excellent partnership. Stephen strongly partnered Angela and they both did very well in mastering the huge lifts. A powerful performance from the beginning; one could really feel the depths of pain and sorrow that are key to the adagio, complimented by refined bravura.

The finale of the first half - and another festival highlight - was a new seven-minute ballet choreographed by Anna McCoy, performed by Anna and Leigh Alderson. The ballet is called Zlatý Motýlek, which is Czech for The Golden Butterfly; the music was composed by Anna’s brother, Andrew McCoy. The ballet is in three movements, each of which represents the three life stages of a butterfly, but they also act as a metaphor for the experience of falling in love, which the piece shows can happen three times, deeply and differently across a lifetime. Zlatý Motýlek is an exquisitely beautiful work, delivering its poetic message of life and love through the movements and steps, and introducing Anna’s skills and abilities as a choreographer. She and Leigh danced superbly, presenting a very promising partnership and their own individual talents as dancers. One could really feel all the hard work and passion Anna put into creating this ballet and it is a work that should be seen on more stages in the near future.

The Second Half

The second half was devoted to the second scene from Josef Bayer’s one-act ballet The Fairy Doll, another of the festival’s highlights. The cast was Angela Zielen as the Fairy Doll, Stephen Everson and Oscar Hunter as the two Pierrots, who vie for her affections, Adam Donnelly and the students of High Points Youth Ballet. It began with junior student Niamh Kennedy as a young girl, who sleeps and dreams of dolls coming to life and dancing. It then proceeded into a very entertaining opening waltz of the dolls, followed by the marche of the toy soldiers, performed by the junior students.

Afterwards, it was time for a wonderful variations marathon performed by soloists. First was the comically sweet variation of the Baby Doll, performed by Aoife Finnieston in the first performance and Zara Crawford in the second. Then came the energetic, jumping variation of the Harlequin and Gendarme dolls (Lauren McConnell and Amelia Larmour), followed by Tyrolean Ländler, (Nina Crawford and Maisie Lucas). Next were the Russian Dolls, (Fifi Marland-Ross and Adam Donnelly), the French Doll (Annabelle Brown) and the Japanese Doll (Jessica Birnie). Then it was the Spanish Doll’s turn; in the first performance, the role was danced by Georgia Crawford and in the second, by Amy Crawford. Amelia then returned to perform the variation from the Satanella Pas de deux, which was specially interpolated for her.

All the soloists of the variations performed very well. The fact that Amelia did two pieces said a lot; she was wonderfully energetic and playful as the jumping Harlequin, and very elegant and technically superb as Satanella, mastering the difficult pointe work with excellent control. Fifi is one of the younger students who is already showing much potential; she was a graceful, expressive Russian Doll, and she was well paired with Adam. Adam was a good partner and an accomplished dancer, with good, expressive energy in his jumps. Annabelle performed the challenging French Doll’s variation technically well, topped with a pinch of charm and elegance. Both Georgia and Amy gave exceptional performances as the Spanish Doll, with both presenting good technique and musicality, and bringing a good bit of Spanish-style flair.

The highlight of The Fairy Doll was the Pas de trois, performed brilliantly by Angela, Stephen and Oscar. While strong technique was certainly present, the comedy brought by the three performers was superb. Oscar especially gave it his all, proving to be a wonderful comedic actor. Stephen really let himself go and one could tell he was enjoying the role, and both men gave a great performance of their double variation. Angela really embodied the Fairy Doll, presenting a cheeky, even diva-ish side to the character, who looked like she was enjoying playing with the Pierrots’ affections. On top of that, her dancing was excellent; she gave a stellar performance of the variation, and both Stephen and Oscar excellently partnered her in the adagio and coda. It all came to a perfect close with the wonderful finale danced by all, and it rightfully gained a huge round of applause.

The Third Half

The third and final half was the second mixed bill, starting with two excerpts from the Carmen Suite by Alberto Alonso, performed by Rachel Neale as Carmen and Amelia Larmour and Georgia Crawford as the Cigarette Girls. An accomplished dancer, Rachel gave a fiery, sexy performance in her solo, showing the audience that the role is right up her alley. She brought plenty of personality and vibrance to the stage that her strong technique complimented.

Carmen Suite was followed by the Variation of the Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker, performed beautifully by Madison Crawford, who presented wonderfully-refined, clean technique and musicality. Afterwards came selections from The Sleeping Beauty performed by S-MB Company. The excerpts were the Entrance of Aurora, the Variation of Aurora and the Dance of the Maids of Honour from Act 1, which were arranged for and performed by eleven students. The dances for Aurora were split between three students - Holly Brown, Sarah Fairley and Zara Turpie - with each dancing different sections of each number. The second performance included Lily Morris performing the Variation of the Silver Fairy from Act 3.

Lauren McConnell made her third appearance in a contemporary piece called Human Chimera, choreographed by Joanna Freeman to music by Ricky Marano. This piece explores the thoughts and feelings of not fitting in, portraying this experience through the perspective of a creature that sees humanity and tries to fit into its mould. In the end, it rejects the expectations of social norms and chooses to be its most authentic self.

Eleven students from HPYB and Adam Donnelly then came together to present The Clearing, a contemporary piece created by Six Dance Collective for HPYB, with choreography by Ruaidhrí Maguire and music by Amelia Clarkson. The piece revolves around one question - what do we ask of nature when we are lost in ourselves? The title refers to a clearing in a space once with trees, represented by the students’ green and brown costumes, and draws on the rhythm of ritual and the energy brought by the changing of the seasons. Ruaidhrí is noted for his neoclassical ballets and this piece was no exception to showcasing his choreographic skills. It was a beautiful piece that was well choreographed on the HPYB students, who, along with Adam, gave an exceptional performance, proving their abilities to master both classical and contemporary repertoire.

Next, it was the turn of Lara Yaman and Doğa Gürtan, who performed the Paquita Pas de trois, which had been arranged into a pas for two female dancers. It contained the entrée, the two female variations and the coda. Lara and Doğa each proved themselves to be accomplished dancers. They presented strong technique and musicality, which are vital requirements for this difficult pas, and they showed grace and bravura in their variations.

Leigh Alderson then took the stage to perform his own work Cold Song, a contemporary piece choreographed to music by Klaus Nomi and Agnes. This was a very moving piece inspired by the music pieces that touches on loss, with the pinnacle coming at the end with the dimming lights, seemingly representing a particular moment in life. Leigh certainly put his all into this work, showcasing his talent for dancing and choreography, and delivering a very heartfelt and passionate performance.

Afterwards came another of the festival highlights - the Le Corsaire Pas de deux, performed by Oleksii Kniazkov and Elizaveta Gogidze. From start to finish, Oleksii and Liza performed this pas de deux with wonderful bravura and a brilliant partnership, with Oleksii strongly partnering Liza in the adagio, easily mastering the various lifts, and Liza presenting beautiful, elegant lines. In his variation, Oleksii treated the audiences to his powerful jumps and dynamic virtuosity, which he also showcased in the coda. Liza graced the stage in her variation with clean technique and expressiveness as she flew across the stage with multiple jétés. In the coda, she brought the house down with her stellar performance of the fouetté sequence, of which she performed at least 30.

All the performers then returned to the stage for a grand finale to the Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka by Johann Strauss II, bringing the festival to a perfect close.

Epilogue

The return of the Belfast International Ballet Festival was wholeheartedly welcomed by the local and wider ballet community. Thanks to Belfast City Council’s support, this event once again brought international and homegrown talent together, solidifying Belfast’s place on the cultural map.

It also offered a stage for former HPYB students to demonstrate their growth - including Rachel Neale, Lauren McConnell, Amy Crawford, Georgia Crawford and Oscar Hunter. Their stories, whether in Spain, Portugal, or Italy, prove that Northern Ireland produces dance artists capable of reaching global stages.

Following the success of last year, this year’s festival raised the bar even higher, expanding its reach and ambition with rarely seen works and new international artists. With the momentum built by the High Points Youth Ballet team, Belfast’s ballet scene is thriving - and its future looks even brighter.

In conclusion, on a personal note, I am immensely proud of all that this festival has achieved. As with last year, I stand firmly with the HPYB team in the hope that this becomes a permanent fixture in the cultural calendar, continuing to elevate ballet in Belfast and across Ireland.

On this day, three years ago, Tuesday the 13th September 2022 at 7:30pm, I attended a performance at the beautiful London Coliseum starring the United Ukrainian Ballet in Alexei Ratmansky’s production of Giselle.

This was a very exciting occasion for several reasons: it was my first time attending a ballet performance since before the COVID-19 pandemic; it was the first time I was watching Ratmansky’s Giselle live and I was more than happy to come to an event that was supporting Ukraine after Russia’s brutal invasion on the 24th February 2022, something that had shocked and horrified the whole world. As I sat in my seat in the Coliseum, I remember how high the level of emotions were, which was something I had never experienced before at a show. Watching the dancers dancing with their hearts and souls, despite all they were going through, really struck me. It’s difficult to describe how inspirational that evening turned out to be.

I was so inspired by this experience that I wrote a review, which I published on The Marius Petipa Society. To mark the occasion of that night, I’m reposting that review here on Dance & Write because, as the post’s title says, this was a night to remember. I have made some up-to-date (and necessary) revisions to the original review because I’m not sharing this as just a mere review, but as a memory for me and for all the dancers and artists who were involved in this wonderful project, many of whom have since become friends. I share this with them as a lookback at some beautiful memories, not to mention the occasion that our paths first crossed, for this is something that should never be forgotten.

Three years ago…

On the night of Tuesday the 13^th September 2022, a ballet company called the United Ukrainian Ballet made its London début at the London Coliseum. This company was formed of over sixty Ukrainian refugee dancers from various Ukrainian ballet companies, who fled their country following Russia’s invasion. It was put together by Igone de Jonagh, a former principal dancer with the Dutch National Ballet, and was, at the time, based at the Old Royal Conservatory in The Hague, The Netherlands, which had been converted into a refugee centre for Ukrainian dancers and others. In 2023, the dancers were relocated to another accommodation in Kijkduin, a southern suburb in The Hague, and the old conservatory has since been demolished. When the company was established, De Jongh invited Alexei Ratmansky to work on the project.

Ratmansky has been one of the most prominent of outspoken figures condemning the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Born to a Russian mother and a Ukrainian father in Leningrad (now, Saint Petersburg), Ratmansky grew up in Kyiv and is one of ballet’s most renowned choreographers. He has brought his choreographic genius all over the world and he brought it to the United Ukrainian Ballet, who stood and still stand for the resilience and courage of the Ukrainian people during these dark times, and to ensure the preservation of Ukrainian culture. It also acted as a way to unite all of us in the ballet world against a terrible tyranny that is continuously violating human rights with horrific war crimes in an invasion that has claimed and is still claiming many innocent lives.

The production

For the company’s début, they chose Giselle, the most famous of the 19^th century Parisian classics. Ratmansky staged his historical production, which he previously staged for the Bolshoi Ballet in 2019. His Giselle stands out from other productions because it is based on the historical documents of the 19^th century productions. The most distinctive documents are choreographic notation scores by French Ballet Master Henri Justament and Nikolai Sergeyev, the regisseur of the Imperial Ballet. Justament’s notations document the French productions from the 1850s, while Sergeyev’s scores cover the late 19^th and early 20th century productions staged by Marius Petipa in Saint Petersburg. This production restores, among other things, the 19^th century/early 20th century choreography, the original character portrayals and dance numbers and stage/scenic effects that were long disposed of years ago.

Most of the characters are portrayed in a different light - Giselle is no damsel-in-distress who suffers from frail health, but a feisty, healthy, strong-willed young woman who can stand up for herself. Albrecht is not a careless, deceitful, heartless seducer; he is genuinely in love with the plucky peasant girl and although his actions are not selfless, one really feels for him when their love story meets its tragic end. Hilarion is usually sympathetic in today’s productions, but here, he is a jealous brute who only proves himself unworthy of Giselle’s love.

Berthe is still Giselle’s overprotective mother, who repeatedly warns her daughter against dancing, not because she has a weak heart, but because Berthe fears that Giselle’s love of dancing will ultimately turn her into a wili. Bathilde, Albrecht’s fiancée, is often presented today as cold and haughty, but here, she is a kind, gentle woman who cares for Giselle and mourns her death. And then we have the wilis, that terrifying army of killer ghosts. These ghostly brides are not fairies of the night coming out to play with flowers, but vampiric phantoms who rise from the grave to satisfy their endless love of dance and to seek out fresh victims.

The biggest difference from the Bolshoi production was that the scale had been toned down due to necessary abridgements in the staging. Special stage effects, e.g. wilis flying on wires, and Myrtha and Giselle rising out of their graves via trapdoors were absent. There was a much smaller number of dancers, so the corps de ballet of peasants, wilis and the hunting party were not on the same grand scale. Nevertheless, Ratmansky and his team made it work.

The sets and costumes were donated by the Birmingham Royal Ballet – those of the first act were by Hayden Griffin for Giselle and those of the second act were by Peter Farmer for Sir Frederick Ashton’s The Dream. They certainly added to the production’s charm, but one thing I would say is that, as a friend of mine pointed out, maybe the Duke of Courland and Bathilde should have worn costumes with different designs because wearing the same designs made them look more like a couple than father and daughter.

The performance

When I arrived on the night of the performance, one thing I very quickly became aware of once I stepped inside the Coliseum was that the evening was filled with emotions. When it came time for the performance, to the conductor’s podium came Viktor Oliynyk, a Merited Artist of Ukraine and the conductor of the National Opera of Ukraine, a position he has held since 2017. With baton in hand, he conducted the English National Opera Orchestra with vibrance and colour, presenting a lively, invigorating performance of Adolphe Adam’s score.

Once the overture was over, the Coliseum’s purple curtain rose onto the Rhineland village that is Giselle’s home. It is the day of the grape harvest festival, and the villagers are preparing to celebrate with dances, wine, and the crowning of Giselle as Queen of the Vintage. Giselle and “Loys”, who is really the Duke Albrecht disguised as a peasant, are in love and engaged to be married. However, everything ends in tragedy when the jealous Hilarion reveals “Loys’” true identity as a nobleman and his engagement to the Princess Bathilde. The shock causes poor Giselle to go mad and she dies of a broken heart. The curtain falls on everyone in mourning as the grief-stricken Albrecht cradles his beloved.

After the interval, the curtain rises on the second act, which is a sharp contrast to the first with its Gothic atmosphere and setting in the dark, haunted forest that bears an unhallowed graveyard of betrayed, unmarried women. The clock strikes midnight, will-o-the-wisps appear and from her grave rises Myrtha, the ever-vengeful Queen of the Wilis, who summons her subjects. She draws Giselle into their deadly cult, but when the grieving Albrecht arrives to mourn, Giselle refuses to take revenge. Instead, she protects her remorseful lover from the clutches of death until dawn. The ballet ends with an ending many are not familiar with that is based on the original 1841 ending, in which Giselle beckons Albrecht to marry Bathilde before she disappears, and the curtain falls on the heartbroken Albrecht returning to his betrothed.

On the opening night, our titular heroine was performed by guest artist Christine Shevchenko, and dancing Albrecht was Oleksii Tiutiunnyk. As soon as she came on stage, Christine lit up the auditorium with her high-spirited performance as Giselle revels in her happiness when she dances and in the moments she spends with Albrecht. In the very difficult choreography, especially the Pas seul variation, she presented flawless technique with her hops en pointe and the difficult diagonal of pirouettes en dehors and en dedans. Her mad scene was truly a moment of heartbreak and sadness that one could feel, especially when she “plucked” the imaginary flower and when she fell down dead with the sorrowing Albrecht at her feet. In the second act, Christine completely transitioned from a happy-go-lucky young woman into a tragic spirit who, when given the chance to seek vengeance beyond the grave, tenderly forgives her beloved. She embodied the lightness and ethereal spirit-like qualities of the ghostly Giselle with radiance, touching all in the audience.

Oleksii proved to be another ray of sunshine. He acted the role of Albrecht beautifully, presenting a young nobleman who only wishes to be with the girl he loves, only for his world to fall to pieces when she dies. His dancing showed strength and elegance in the very difficult male choreography that has been watered down in favour of endless big jumps and turns, especially in the second act variation. Christine and Oleksii had good chemistry as dance partners and a romantic couple. One could feel the joy and romance in the air during their date and dances in the first act, and the sorrow in Giselle’s protection and forgiveness and Albrecht’s grief in the second act, which only made their loss all the more tragic and their final goodbye all the more touching.

Dancing the role of Myrtha was Elizaveta Gogidze, who commanded a strong presence as the leader of the killer wilis. The choreography for Myrtha is especially challenging because it requires great elevation, but Liza certainly did not show any signs of struggle as she soared through the air with strong technical prowess. One thing I look for in Myrtha is for the ballerina playing her to remind us that she is one ghostly femme fatale that no one wants to mess with. Liza achieved this as she stood tall and proud with no remorse, only a desire for vengeance as she gave orders to her obedient wilis, and as Hilarion and Albrecht begged her in vain for mercy.

In the role of Hilarion was Serhii Kliachin, who proved to be an excellent actor. His Hilarion was not one to sympathise with, especially in the first act where he really put the character’s jealousy and refusal to leave Giselle alone on full display, making the audience perfectly aware which one was the bad suitor. He did very well in presenting the character in a softer, remorseful light in the second act, especially in the opening scene (a scene omitted from most productions) when he and his friends come across Giselle’s grave while drinking and he takes a moment to grieve before being terrified by the appearance of the wilis, who later condemn him to death.

In the role of Berthe was Olena Mykhailova and playing Bathilde was Kseniia Novikova. Both women proved to be good actresses and were very expressive in their mime. Lena especially did well to present Berthe in all her overprotectiveness and brilliantly performed her mime scene about the wilis. Kseniia beautifully portrayed Bathilde as a heart-warming, kind young woman, who everyone also sympathised with, and she was especially sweet in her communications with Giselle as the two quickly struck up a friendship. Viktor Lytvynenko was Wilfride, Albrecht’s loyal squire, who was another joy to watch. Viktor is also a fine actor, one of the best of the whole performance, who delivered his mime scenes with excellence and genuine feeling.

Other performers who deserve a mention were Nikita Hodyna and Veronika Hordina, who performed the Peasant Pas de deux, one of the most difficult passages in the whole production. Nika was faced with the technical challenge of plenty of petit allegro and steely pointe work, which she delivered very well, but it is for the male dancer that the biggest challenges lie. The first male Peasant variation in the Sergeyev scores is one of the most, if not the most, difficult of male variations. Its greatest challenge is the sequence of brisé volé, ballonné battu, turn, cabriole, pas de bourée, double emboîté, tour left, tour right. For a dancer to do a tour in one direction and then in the other is very hard, but despite clearly being out of his comfort zone, Nikita handled the choreography very well and gave a performance of good technique and musicality that was very deserving of the applause that followed when he finished.

The corps de ballet was also a joy to watch, and the ensemble choreography was also very technically demanding. This is a lesson to us all that the corps de ballet are artists in their own right, not backdrop dancers. The dances of the peasants were jolly and vibrant, and the dances of the wilis were the perfect match for the dark, ghostly atmosphere of the haunted forest and the dancers did not disappoint.

After the final curtain came down on Act 2, the night ended with the company and Ratmansky coming together during the curtain call to sing the Ukrainian National Anthem, a reminder of the tragic events still occurring in Ukraine and the unity, strength, and resilience that the Ukrainian people have shown as a tyrannical dictator rages war through their country.

Epilogue

Overall, the night was a very inspirational event that was full of emotion. When I went to the performance and I took my seat in the Coliseum, I had no idea what this would all lead to and it’s led to some very happy ventures. To see this band of dancers coming together and sharing their artistry with us after everything they had been through in the six months before that night was extraordinary. The night ended for me when I took a little detour to the stage door, where I met some of the dancers, which was a blessing.

I have since became a friend of the company and I have seen them perform on multiple other occasions in The Netherlands. On top of that, United Ukrainian Ballet enjoyed many successful ventures that took them around the world. Much has changed since then with the company closing in January 2024, but at least two things remain. The first is that the war is still ongoing; all attempts to reach a peace deal have failed and Russia continues to mercilessly bomb Ukraine. This is something we cannot ignore; we have to keep up the support for our Ukrainian brothers and sisters.

But the dancers of United Ukrainian Ballet have kept going; they never stopped. While many of the dancers have gone elsewhere, the project is now in the form of Ukrainian International Ballet, which was founded last year in collaboration with the United Ukrainian Ballet Foundation. They had their première performance on the 25th August 2024 at Korzo Theater in The Hague. They continue with their mission - to preserve and promote Ukrainian culture and to dance in defiance because you can’t kill the dance.

While some things change, something that will always stay are the memories, especially the memory of what I had the great fortune to experience on that wonderfully inspiring, even magical night at the London Coliseum. This is something I will always be grateful for because it gave me the opportunity to experience something I hadn’t experienced before in all my years in ballet and it introduced me to some very talented artists and wonderful people, all of whom I hold very dear.

I’m so proud to know them, proud of everything they’ve all achieved and proud of how strong they all are and how they keep going. The United Ukrainian Ballet in Giselle was a really special experience, and I dare to hope and dream that one day, in the not-too-distant future, we’ll all get to see them do another one like it.

In the meantime, to all my Ukrainian friends, wherever they all are, keep on dancing and keep on shining, and I’m with you all every step of the way.
Слава Україні!

Images by Mark Senior, Altin Kaftira, Tristram Kenton, Alastair Muir, Danylo Butenko and Karolina Kuras©

Support Ukraine and Ukrainian culture

Ukraine still needs our help, so below are links for several organisations to which you can donate, including Ukrainian International Ballet. Please give what you can, any donation, no matter how big or small, makes all the difference. Let us all do our part to keep helping and supporting our Ukrainian brothers and sisters.

Support Ukrainian International Ballet

UNITED24 - The initiative of the President of Ukraine

DONATE - Netherlands for Ukraine Foundation

In the month of June, I attended three ballet performances and the first was on the 1st June at the Drama Theatre of Stranmilis University College in Belfast where, on the 31st May and the 1st June, my friends at High Points Youth Ballet held their annual Spring Gala.

Each year, for the Spring Gala, the HPYB team brings two excerpts from two ballets, one performed by their junior students and one performed by their senior students. This year, the Spring Gala featured a suite of Josef Bayer’s The Fairy Doll and The Kingdom of the Shades from Marius Petipa and Ludwig Minkus’s La Bayadère.

The Fairy Doll is a one-act ballet and is one of the more rarely performed ballets, perhaps because it is deemed a “students’ ballet”. However, it was not created as such. It premièred in Vienna in 1888 and was subsequently staged in Russia, first in Moscow in 1897 and then by the brothers Nikolai and Sergei Legat in Saint Petersburg in 1903. Some of the most famous performers of the titular character include Matilda Kschessinskaya, Olga Preozhenskaya, Elena Lukom and, the most famous of all, Anna Pavlova. Today, The Fairy Doll is traditionally performed by the students of the Vaganova Academy in Saint Petersburg in a version staged by Konstantin Sergeyev in 1989 and it is also performed by several schools in the west, but it is absent from the main repertoire. Its most famous piece, which occasionally appears on the main stage, is the Fairy Doll Pas de trois, which was created by the Legat brothers and the composer Riccardo Drigo. The story is of a magic toyshop where, during closed hours when the shop is empty, the dolls come to life and dance throughout the night. The most spectacular of them all is the Fairy Doll, who is elected their queen. When dawn breaks, the dolls return to their places and all returns to normality.

For their Spring Gala, Artistic Director Jake Allison and répétiteur Dr Anna Carapellotti presented a suite of the dolls’ dances, which was performed by the junior students, with the exception of the titular character who was danced by senior student Zara Crawford. The curtain opened to reveal the dolls in a tableau, surrounding six sleeping girls. All is still until the Fairy Doll gives the signal. The dolls come to life, the girls awake and the dancing begins. Jake and Anna could not have picked a more entertaining piece for the first half. The opening dance served as an introduction to the characters, including Bunny Drummer (Sarina Bennett), the Porcelain Dolls (Amelia Bell, Shanna Black, Barbara Jasiulewicz and Amelia Moore) and the Princess Dolls (Taylor Clydesdale, Amy McCully and Callie Porter). Next followed variations of different dolls, beginning with a marche of toy soldiers, performed by the youngest junior students, which ended with one of the students being lifted by the others in an overhead lift, something which rightfully won them a big cheer from the audience.

The Variations of the Dolls were well staged. The one that got the biggest cheers was that of Polichinelle and Harlequin, danced by Olivia Grimes and Alayna McIlmunn respectively. The dance featured a lot of jumps, which the girls did well, but Alayna, only 10 or 11 years old, took us all by surprise with fast pirouettes. Surely, a future star in the making. Then there was the Russian Doll, danced elegantly by Fifi Marland-Ross, who has just returned to Belfast after spending a year on a training placement in Australia. Next was the Japanese Doll, danced by Jessica Birnie, and the French Doll, danced by Annabelle Brown. These three students are among the leading junior soloists of High Points Youth Ballet and they each gave a performance showing that they have much potential for the future.

After the variations, all the dancers gathered for a very entertaining finale, which included a graceful performance from Zara Crawford as the Fairy Doll, and everyone returned to their opening placements for a closing tableau.

The Fairy Doll suite was very well put together; Anna, Jake and the students all worked very hard to give a good show and their work paid off. They gave us all a more than charming and entertaining first half for the gala.

After the interval, the curtain rose for the second half, The Kingdom of the Shades from the third act of Marius Petipa’s most famous exotic ballet La Bayadère, a challenging, but exciting début for High Points Youth Ballet.

One of the most celebrated works in the repertoire, La Bayadère premièred in Saint Petersburg in 1877 and was later staged in a new production in 1900, and remains a dominant member of the repertoire today. The ballet is set in Ancient India and tells a story of love, betrayal, murder and divine vengeance. The beautiful temple dancer Nikiya and the warrior Solor pledge eternal love to one another, but the Rajah has chosen Solor to be the husband of his daughter Gamzatti. When the Grand Brahmin, whose love Nikiya had rejected, exposes her relationship with Solor, the Rajah and Gamzatti conspire to murder Nikiya and send her a basket of flowers containing a poisonous snake that fatally bites her. In his grief, Solor dreams of Nikiya in a heavenly realm called the Kingdom of the Shades and her shade subsequently haunts him at his wedding to Gamzatti. The angry gods destroy the palace, killing all responsible for Nikiya’s murder, and the shades of Nikiya and Solor are reunited in the afterlife.

However, despite its popularity, in recent years, La Bayadère has become a victim of political correctness with some accusing it of promoting Asian stereotypes and cultural appropriation. Some of these people have attempted to “fix” the ballet by presenting “corrected reimaginings”, except it is these “corrected reimaginings” that are problematic because they have failed to fix anything. Instead, they present a picture of hypocrisy, ignorance and whitewashing that introduce more stereotypes, historical inaccuracies and insult people’s intelligence by appropriating their supposed anger.

It was unfortunate to see the programme label The Kingdom of the Shades as “the ballet’s least controversial scene” because despite what some want others to believe, La Bayadère is not controversial at all. To correct that sentence, The Kingdom of the Shades is the ballet’s most famous and most celebrated scene and is often performed as an independent piece in galas. It features a huge corps de ballet of shades (the original number in 1877 was 64) and is set on the starlit mountain peaks of the Himalayas. In this scene, the despondent Solor dreams of his beloved Nikiya in this heavenly kingdom, where she appears among the multiple shades and forgives him for his betrayal. La Bayadère is never performed in Belfast, so this was a welcomed new addition to the High Points Youth Ballet repertoire.

The curtain opened on a very well-designed backdrop depicting a mountain range and thus began the famous Entrance of the Shades, with sixteen shades entering in the serpentine pattern of arabesques before forming four lines of four. The Entrance of the Shades was beautifully performed; the students had clearly put all their effort into mastering the challenges of this number. The corps de ballet work for the whole scene was well staged and the students gave a stellar performance. Dancing the Three Solo Shades were Amelia Larmour, Lucy Dunbar and Kristina Murphy, though the third variation was performed by Annabelle French. The Variations of the Three Shades are three of the most challenging variations, but the three students did very well in handling the technical challenges, especially Amelia, who stood out the most with her handling of the steely pointe work of the first variation.

The gala saw the return of guest professional dancer Luc Burns, who danced Solor. A native of Belfast and member of the Varna Opera Ballet in Bulgaria, Luc graced the Belfast stage last year in the HPYB Spring Gala 2024 when he danced Albrecht in the second act of Giselle. He subsequently reprised the role two months later at the Belfast International Ballet Festival, where he also performed in a Swan Lake suite. He brought his accomplished technique and buoyant jumps, which he especially showed in the Grand Coda and Solor’s variation (interpolated from Act 2).

The role of Nikiya was danced by senior student Leah McNally. Leah has proven on several occasions to be one of High Points Youth Ballet’s top students and she showed it again in her newest role. This is the second leading role I have seen her dance (the first was Giselle last year) and she gave a truly beautiful, heartfelt performance. Only 18 years old (17 at the time of the performance), she brought such a maturity that defies her young age and she danced like a professional. She brought good, clean technique, which enabled her to master the difficult steps, but she also made the role completely her own by bringing such a beautiful warmth and honesty to it. This is a quality that says she understands Petipa’s words on technique - “In ballerinas, technique should compliment artistry, not rule it.” Leah and Luc worked well together as partners; Luc strongly partnered Leah and she responded well to the levels at which he set her.

As they have done with other grand pas and scenes/acts, Jake and Anna did a great job in staging The Kingdom of the Shades. It is one of the most difficult scenes to stage, but all their hard work and effort paid off and the students were well taught and coached. The huge round of applause during the curtain calls were more than well deserved.

In conclusion, the team at High Points Youth Ballet presented a beautiful and entertaining gala, bringing more of the delights of the classical repertoire to the Belfast stage, a wonderful sign that ballet is growing and growing in the city of Belfast. The Fairy Doll suite and The Kingdom of the Shades will be performed again by HPYB and professional guest artists at the upcoming Belfast International Ballet Festival that will be held on the 1st and 2nd August.

Links

High Points Youth Ballet Company

Belfast International Ballet Festival

There exists a lithograph that acts as a visualisation to a ballet that was first presented to the public 180 years ago. This lithograph is one of four dark-haired ballerinas, each wearing a light pink Romantic tutu; their hair and bodices adorned with roses. Two are kneeling at the front, one is standing at the back and they are surrounding the fourth ballerina, who is standing en pointe, her neck and wrists adorned with pearls, as if she is their queen. These are not just any ballerinas - they are Marie Taglioni, Lucile Grahn, Carlotta Grisi and Fanny Cerrito, four of the great ballerinas of the Romantic Era.1 The lithograph, designed by Alfred Edward Chalon, immortalising these danseuses, is depicting a “sculpturesque group” from the Pas de Quatre, a ballet divertissement created especially for the four women to bring them together and showcase their individualities by probably the Romantic Era’s greatest duo, choreographer Jules Perrot and composer Cesare Pugni.

The Pas de Quatre premièred on the 12th July 1845 at Her Majesty’s Theatre in London and it was a wonderful success, though it was only performed four times with its original cast. The third performance was attended by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. Afterwards, the Pas de Quatre was rarely if ever performed; it was revived in 1847 at its London home for just two performances with Carolina Rosati dancing Lucile Grahn’s role. On three occasions, it was staged abroad by Filippo Taglioni - first on the 14th March 1846 at the Teatro alla Scala in Milan; second on the 12th October 1847 at the Court Theatre, Warsaw and then nine days later at the Teatr Wielki on the 21st October.

Today, the Pas de Quatre has been danced all over the world, though it is still one of the more rarely performed ballets. But the reason why it is active today is thanks to the man who resurrected it 89 years after its last known performance… a British dancer, choreography and teacher by the name of Keith Lester.

Who was Keith Lester?

Keith Lester is one of those important ballet figures who has long been ignored, unheard of and/or forgotten.

He was born in Guildford, England on the 4th April 1904, which, by coincidence, was the same year in which some of ballet’s other most important figures were born - Sir Frederick Ashton, Sir Anton Dolin, George Balanchine, Alexandra Danilova and Sonia Gaskell. It was when Lester saw a performance by Sergei Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes that he found the calling to dance. He trained with two graduates of the Saint Petersburg Theatre School and dancers of Marius Petipa’s Imperial Ballet - Serafina Astafieva, a coryphée, who subsequently danced with the Ballets Russes, and Nikolai Legat, who had been one of Petipa’s Premier Danseurs. Lester made his professional début in 1923 and his early performances included the ballets of Mikhail Fokine. He partnered some of the greatest ballerinas of his time, including Olga Spessivtseva, Lydia Kyaksht and Tamara Karsavina. Lester became Karsavina’s partner during a European tour she was embarking on when her original partner Pierre Vladimirov abruptly left. Suddenly partnerless, Karsavina had to quickly find a replacement and Lester was discovered by ballet enthusiast Poppoea Vanda. Lester quickly set out for Riga to join Karsavina and it all worked out well. He also danced with Ida Rubenstein’s company in 1934 and with the Markova-Dolin Ballet from 1935 to 1937.

Karsavina wrote of Lester:

Keith was certainly strong, and tall for a ballet dancer and, to my agreeable surprise, highly competent in support. When I learned that he had been Olga Spessivtseva’s partner in Fokine’s seasons, I understood where his skills came from. I also realised, in the course of our collaboration, that he must have given much serious study and analysis to the “whys” and “hows” of the intricacies of double work. Not a small achievement was to have memorised the whole of our programme in one afternoon. No doubt, his work with Fokine contributed to our mutual understanding and enabled us to use a common language, that of the Russian school, its definitions and terminology.

The rest of the season in Riga went without a hitch, as if we had been partners for a long time. I felt safe in Keith’s hands; he was alert to my slightest variation of movement.2

As well as dancing, Lester had a talent for choreography, something he would first showcase when he was commissioned to choreograph several works for the Markova-Dolin Ballet, including a ballet called David in 1935 and in 1936, he revived and recreated the long-lost Pas de Quatre. He also danced with Antony Tudor’s London Ballet in 1939, for which he choreographed the Pas des déesees, a divertissement from Le Jugement de Paris, another lost ballet by Perrot and Pugni3. In 1940, Lester co-founded the Arts Theatre Ballet, for which he choreographed his own version of Léo Delibes’ Sylvia. His last commissioned work was for Festival Ballet (now, English National Ballet) in 1955. Between 1946 and 1966, Lester worked as choreographer at the Windmill Theatre in London’s West End where he choreographed several works that featured naked dancers and fan/feather dances.

In 1961, Lester began teaching at the Royal Academy of Dance and during his tenure, he codified the teaching syllabus that is now known as the Karsavina Syllabus, which combines elements from Fokine, the 19th century Imperial Ballet and the Italian method of Enrico Cecchetti. In 1965, Lester became Principal of the College of the RAD and he would remain in the post until his retirement in 1975. He died on the 8th June 1993 at the age of 89.

Keith Lester undoubtedly made some important contributions to ballet, but his legacy is one of those that was overshadowed by those of others, in his case, Sir Anton Dolin. It is Dolin’s version of the Pas de Quatre that is commonly performed today and for years, he has been erroneously credited as having revived the ballet, primarily because he claimed he did. But what about Lester? How did Dolin get the credit while Lester was pushed into the shadows?

Revival of the Pas de Quatre

It was during his tenure with the Markova-Dolin Ballet that Lester resurrected the Pas de Quatre. The ballet had not been performed since the 19th century and Perrot’s choreography did not survive. But in the 1930s, British ballet historian and writer Cyril Beaumont discovered the piano reduction score in the British Museum and shared it with Lester, Dolin and Markova. Lester was commissioned to revive the ballet divertissement, so he studied the lithograph by Challon and other 19th century lithographs, and accounts and reviews from eyewitnesses. Lester’s recreation of the Pas de Quatre premièred in London in 1936. So why does Dolin’s name always appear as the choreographer and not Lester? It all started in 1940.

That year, Dolin travelled to New York and joined the newly-form Ballet Theatre (now, American Ballet Theatre). The co-founder, Lucia Chase requested for the Pas de Quatre to be staged for Ballet Theatre and Dolin sent word to Lester, asking for his notes on the ballet. Lester agreed and sent Dolin the notes. However, Dolin claimed that the notes never arrived, that they were lost on the transatlantic crossing, so he took it upon himself to stage the Pas de Quatre. Dolin’s staging premièred on the 16th July 1941 at the Majestic Theatre in New York, starring Nana Gollner, Alicia Alonso, Nathalie Krassovska and Mia Slavenska. According to an associate of Lester, Lester said that Dolin’s staging was “a straightforward pinch of his 1936 version.” A student of Paul Petroff, the husband of Nana Gollner, said Petroff told them “that [Dolin’s version] was basically stolen from Keith Lester’s staging.” What is clear is this is a case of plagiarism: Dolin staged Lester’s work in his own fashion and never credited Lester, though Lester was still paid by Lucia Chase. Lester never sued Dolin because at the time, copyright in ballets did not yet exist, so it would have been too troublesome to sue, let alone publicly accuse. But according to one of his students, he made peace with the matter and carried on with his career.

Although Dolin’s version has been danced around the world ever since, Lester was not completely ignored. In 1948, Alicia Alonso staged her own staging of the Pas de Quatre for her newly-founded company the National Ballet of Cuba and she credited Lester for the version she staged, having learned of it when she was at ABT. Alonso revived her staging in 1966 and she also staged it for the Paris Opera Ballet in 1973 and for the Polish National Ballet in 1980. Lester’s version, or at least one that was heavily based on it, was staged for the National Dance Company in Mexico, first in 1953 by Felipe Segura and then again in 1966 by ABT Ballet Master Michael Land. Other stagers of Lester’s version, or that are heavily based on it, include Cuban ballerina and teacher Aurora Bosh and Mexican dancer and teacher Laura Echevarría. And, there is another place where it was not absent from…

As I learned from some of his students, Lester taught his Pas de Quatre at the RAD for student performances. One of his students recalled how she danced it at her graduation performance in 1984. Adding to the importance, his version was notated by Michelle Groves in 1980 and by Dr Ann Hutchinson-Guest in Labanotation and I believe the scores are located in the RAD library and archives. So, Lester’s Pas de Quatre has survived and is available for staging should companies and/or schools decide to come calling.

Conclusion

The purpose of this article is not to point the finger at anyone, but to correct the history and to give credit where credit is due. The correct history is that it was Keith Lester who recreated the Pas de Quatre, not Anton Dolin. Unfortunately, Lester’s legacy fell into the shadows, but his students know what he did and now, more of us are learning what he did, so it is important that we all know his name. I only hope that with this essay, I can help contribute to getting him the recognition he deserves. Not only did he bring back to life a legendary ballet, he also greatly contributed to the development of British ballet, not in the least in the form of a teaching syllabus bearing the name of his great dance partner, one should be known by many outside the RAD. The ballet world owes Lester a huge debt of gratitude and respect, and his legacy should be recognised for his contributions as a teacher and as the real resurrector of the Pas de Quatre.

References

The Belgian capital was the Petipa’s home for 12 years; it is where Marius Petipa and Lucien Petipa spent their childhoods and started their ballet training. Their father Jean-Antoine Petipa was Ballet Master of the Theatre Royale de la Monnaie, where Marius and Lucien made their first stage appearances. Lucien would later take the post of Ballet Master at La Monnaie from 1872 to 1873.

Enjoy! :)

Introducing my new series Ballet History Talk as part of my new podcast The Ballet History Podcast with Amy Growcott.

The first episode marks 155 years of Coppélia, which premièred at the Théâtre Impérial de l'Opéra in Paris.

Enjoy!

The prologue of my journey in ballet started when I was 14 and lasted for four years. The path was not always straight, but that was all part of the journey. It opened a number of doors that would lead me in different directions.

About a year or two after I started dancing, I developed an interest in staging and producing ballet productions, especially as I started to learn more about the classics. At one point, I got CDs of full recordings of Tchaikovsky’s ballets, all performed by the London Symphony Orchestra. One was Swan Lake conducted by Michael Tilson Thomas and the others were all three of Tchaikovsky’s ballets conducted by André Previn. Every time I listened to them, I used to imagine a production of my staging in my head; I even included myself in the casting. I would imagine myself as a fully-trained ballerina. What can I say? I’ve always had a big imagination! And in my last year in school, we did a school production of The King And I and I took the role of one of the behind-the-scenes crew members, which was a great experience. The time came for the curtain to close on the prologue of my ballet journey, so what was waiting for me in the first act?

Act 1 - On the road to discovery

When I left school, I went to university and this was my first step into the big wide world, my first taste of independence. I went to London where I enrolled in a theatre producing course because I wanted to learn how to produce ballet productions. Unfortunately, this did not work out. The course turned out not to be for me and after the first year, I ended up switching to a course in creative writing, which I found suited me better. For the last couple of years, I had been experimenting with writing, mainly by writing fan fictions of my favourite TV show at the time. It was a hobby, but it proved to be vital for my creative development. I would live and study in London for four years. Even though this creative writing course was quite a step away from ballet, I never once lost my love for ballet. I went to see some performances at the Royal Opera House: I saw Alina Cojocaru and Johan Kobborg in Romeo and Juliet, La Fille mal gardée and Swan Lake, and I saw Marianela Núñez and Thiago Soares in The Sleeping Beauty. Those were some really great experiences.

My memory is a little imprecise here, but I think it was during these four years that I found something that would send me further down the path that I was on. I found a YouTube channel belonging to someone called Adam Lopez, who is a ballet history researcher and a Petipa purist. Adam’s channel, which is sadly now gone, included loads of ballet videos, including the historical productions by Sergei Vikharev, Yuri Burlaka and Vasily Medvedev’s productions of Esmeralda, Burlaka and Alexei Ratmansky’s production of Le Corsaire, Pierre Lacotte’s production of The Pharaoh’s Daughter and many more. In the notes sections, he included lots of historical notes where he was explaining what Petipa originally did and I found all this to be fascinating. I never thought that ballet could have such an exciting history and this was when I started to learn about Petipa in more depth. It began with learning from Adam’s notes about the differences between Petipa’s stagings and what we all know from modern productions, as well as the similarities. It was through Adam that I learned about Sergei Vikharev and his historical productions; that was especially exciting because I had always wanted to see the original versions. I also learned about the Sergeyev Collection and I was delighted that Petipa’s choreography had survived, but I wouldn’t learn the full story of the notation scores until 2014.

After I graduated from university in 2012, for the next two years, I really struggled to figure out what I wanted to do. I knew I wanted to be a writer, but there weren’t many opportunities: I also wanted to be a singer (I used to sing) and I thought at one point I wanted to be a teacher. I went back to London for a month to try and find something, but that didn’t work out. I even went to see a careers councillor and he said that I could make it as a writer, I could be self-employed, but I had no idea how to do that. I just couldn’t get anywhere, I was really stuck! But I still kept going back to ballet. I regularly visited Adam Lopez’s channel and then, in 2014, I found out about Doug Fullington. Doug is a ballet historian and an expert in Stepanov notation: he has reconstructed from the Sergeyev Collection many times. It was through Adam that I found some online lectures and presentations hosted by Doug, where he reconstructed passages from the Sergeyev Collection that were performed by dancers from Pacific Northwest Ballet and it was fantastic. This was when I started to learn about the complexities of the Sergeyev Collection, but there were still more lessons to be learned and those were to soon follow.

I spent a long time trying to figure where do I go. I was stuck at a crossroads, unable to decide which direction to take because all the road signs were blank. But then one day, the destination names finally started to appear. I paid a few visits to my dance teacher in my secondary school and on one visit, she told me that there were ballet university courses, which I had had no idea existed. So, I looked up such courses and I found a Masters course in Ballet Studies at the University of Roehampton in London. I read about what the course covered and it was a theoretical study of ballet, which covered several aspects, including the history. This was exactly what I was looking for. I applied to enrol in the course; I went for a meeting with the senior lecturer, Dr Geraldine Morris, a renowned scholar and former ballerina with the Royal Ballet, and I was accepted. I was so happy and for several reasons: I was going to be studying ballet as I wanted to study it and I was going to be returning to one of my favourite cities.

Act 1 of my story was my first solo step into the world and searching for my true calling. Looking back on it all, I realise that when we are looking for the path to becoming our true selves, it is out there, but it doesn’t come straight away; good things can take time. We will find our true calling if we keep looking for it, but we will miss out on it if we stop looking for it, if we give up. That’s a message that still resonates today.

The first act was ending and it was time for the second act; the main part of the story was coming.

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Two years ago, on the 21^st March 2023, a special dance charity event for Ukraine, appropriately called Light in Darkness, was arranged and held by Ukrainian dance artists Vladyslav Detiuchenko and Veronika Rakitina in collaboration with Korzo Theater in The Hague, The Netherlands. The event raised €20,000, which was used to buy and send an ambulance to Ukraine. As the Russian war against Ukraine has now entered its third year, Vlad and Nika again collaborated with Korzo and arranged a second event, Light in Darkness II, with funding from the United Ukrainian Ballet Foundation and the Kylian Foundation. The event took place on Saturday the 1^st March to raise more funds for their homeland and to remind everyone that Ukraine still needs our help. After the appalling incident that occurred in the Oval Office on the day before the performance and the worrying turn of direction that has since followed, the whole world has banded together to prove that we all still stand with Ukraine.

Light in Darkness II was an evening of dance and music by Ukrainian, Dutch and Polish artists. All of us in attendance and all the performers were more than determined to do our part to keep supporting Ukraine, and we still are. The event also included a short film made by Vlad and Nika called Rhythms of Resilience - Dance with Daily Risk, which told the story of dancers who are still in Ukraine and working and dancing in a war zone.

The event began with an introductory speech from the Artistic Director of Korzo Theater, Jimmy-Pierre de Graaf who introduced Vlad and Nika, giving them the opportunity to explain the meaning behind the event.

Video: Vlad and Nika’s introductory speech with Jimmy-Pierre de Graaf to Light in Darkness II

After the introduction, the first performer took to the stage - the pianist Anatolii Baryshevskyi, who performed a one-voice etude called Au vent sur la pointe des pieds by Maxim Shalygin. The etude was a technically difficult piece, but Anatolii’s performance was more than praiseworthy as he mastered its challenges. Au vent sur la pointe des pieds creates a feeling of weightlessness and flying, representing complete freedom through music.

The second performer was contemporary dancer Eve-Marie Dalcourt, who gave a stunning performance of the piece Postgenoma by Jacopo Godani, a contemporary solo about transformation where the dancer transforms into a creature from another world. Next was For what is come, choreographed by Maciej Kuźmiński, and performed by Daria Koval and Monika Wikowska. This piece is a tribute to the women of Poland who have played a vital role in supporting Ukrainian women and children who fled their war-torn country, with Daria representing the Ukrainian refugees and Monika representing the Polish women. An interesting element is that the choreography was mostly ground-based: the dancers, especially Daria, performed mostly on the floor, until the end when, after help from Monika, she stood up tall and proud, a perfect way to show that she, like all her fellow Ukrainians, is a survivor.

The final performers of Part 1 were Ukrainian International Ballet performing Richèl Wieles’ de/het/één. This piece premièred last year when it was one of two pieces that was performed in INdependent24, Ukrainian International Ballet’s première performance. The piece is about the beauty of entities coming together and sharing thoughts, ideas and life, diving into the fears of the unknown. The heart of the piece is a reflection of the experience of the Ukrainian dancers leaving their homeland and settling in The Netherlands, focusing not on the horrors of war, but that there is still hope in dark times.

Video: Excerpts of Ukrainian International Ballet in de/het/één by Richèl Wieles

After the interval, Part 2 opened with a speech from one of the Board Members of the organisation Netherlands for Ukraine Foundation where he reminded us of the worrying times and that our support for Ukraine is vital. Afterwards, we had a brief speech from Vlad and Nika before the dancing resumed. The next performer was Rutkay Özpinar, who danced his own work, a solo entitled Aphorisms. The inspiration was his own thoughts that constantly appear and disappear, something that we are all familiar with.

Finally, the stars of the show, Vlad and Nika, took to the stage to dance their piece Everglow. Everglow is a piece of personal memories captured in dance, in which Vlad and Nika relive the very day when their lives changed and the experiences that followed. The couple have openly talked about in previous interviews how on the 24th February 2022, they were suddenly awakened at 5:00am by the sounds of explosions and quickly called their families and friends to warn them and to check on them. Vlad insisted that Nika leave (he was unable to, at the time, due to the rules of martial law) and although she did not want to leave without him, she agreed. She packed a suitcase and the couple bid a tearful farewell to each other before Nika left for the west. She eventually made her way to The Netherlands, where she joined the United Ukrainian Ballet. Several months later, Vlad, along with other male dancers, was given special permission by the Ukrainian government to leave Ukraine to fight the cultural fight. Without telling Nika, he followed her to The Netherlands and the two were finally reunited when he surprised her one morning when he arrived during class.

Video: Vlad and Nika’s story from the 2023 Dutch documentary Vlucht Dans Leef (Flee Dance Live)

A beautiful, very moving piece that touches on the challenges faced by those forced to flee their homes, the struggle for survival, hope, resilience and love. Throughout the whole piece, there was a constant struggle between light and darkness, but light was always present. For example, prop suitcases were opened to reveal lights inside and in the final section, all went dark, until light reappeared, revealing Vlad and Nika performing with lighted mouthpieces that projected a bright light. Everglow proves to be the perfect metaphor that embodies the show’s title, a beautiful reminder that there is always light in darkness.

Video: Excerpts of Vlad and Nika performing Everglow

To summarise, this was an evening of beautiful contemporary artistry performed by some incredible contemporary and classical dance artists that carried a powerful message and mission, one that we should not ignore. Russia’s war against Ukraine is not a political crisis; it is a humanitarian catastrophe, a more than clear example of good vs evil. The message and mission of Light in Darkness II is not one of politics, but of humanity, compassion, suffering and loss, strength and resilience, and hope and love. It reminded all of us who were in attendance that the Ukrainian people are still resisting, even with all the latest chaos that has been caused by the Russian asset in the White House. Ukraine is still standing and its people are firm proof of that fact. Light in Darkness II more than lived up to its title, but its message applies not just to the Ukrainian people, but to all of us. With our Ukrainian brothers and sisters, we can keep the light shining and we can and we must help to keep the light of Ukraine shining as darkness still looms.

Video: Curtain call of Light in Darkness II

Support Ukraine and Ukrainian culture

Ukraine still needs our help, so below are links for several organisations to which you can donate, including Ukrainian International Ballet. Please give what you can, any donation, no matter how big or small, makes all the difference. Let us all do our part to keep helping and supporting our Ukrainian brothers and sisters.

Support Ukrainian International Ballet

UNITED24 - The initiative of the President of Ukraine

DONATE - Netherlands For Ukraine Foundation

British Red Cross - Ukraine Crisis Appeal

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“A dense and hoary primeval forest in Volhynia. The scene is a spacious glade in the heart of the forest, dotted with willows and one very old oak… The spot is wild and mysterious but not gloomy, filled with the tender, pensive beauty of Polissye, the wooded part of Volhynia.” - These are some of the opening lines in the text of Lesya Ukrainka’s play The Forest Song, describing the wild, mysterious atmosphere of a mystical woodland glade in an enchanted forest in Volhynia, Ukraine.

The Forest Song is one of the most iconic works in Ukrainian literature. Published in 1912 and first staged in 1918, it dives into the world of Slavic mythology and tells of a tragic love story between a young man and a forest nymph. In 1936, the play was adapted into a ballet and it remains one of the most beloved works in the Ukrainian ballet repertoire among artists and audiences alike. But for many years, this ballet was unknown of in the international ballet community. It is only now, after Russia’s brutal invasion of Ukraine three years ago, that The Forest Song has started to gain some more attention around the world.

When I started to learn more about the Ukrainian Ballet, as a ballet historian, I became curious to learn about its history and I started to do some research. However, researching this area has not been easy. The overriding reason is because there are no published sources that directly focus on the topic. There was a series of books written by Yuriy Stanishevsky about the history of theatre and ballet in Ukraine, but they are out of print and were never translated into English. On top of that, I was told that they are not reliable because they are a Soviet study that distorts the real Ukrainian history, which needs to be rewritten. If that is the case, it is my aim that this essay should be a step forward about the development of ballet in Ukraine.

In order to put a picture together, I turned to sources that look at the history of Ukraine in comparison to that of ballet in the Soviet Union and of artists who worked in Ukraine in the early 20th century. I also found on the website of the National Ballet Theatre of Ukraine a small introductory essay to The Forest Song by Maria Zagaykevych and online articles about Lesya Ukrainka. There are missing pieces, but there is enough to give an understanding. In this essay, I will look into the wider picture - a brief insight into the life and career of Lesya Ukrainka and her play, and ballet history after the 1917 Revolution up to the staging of The Forest Song.

Lesya Ukrainka, one of Ukraine’s national treasures

As in many nations, some of Ukraine’s national treasures are their artists. One such artist is the writer, poet and playwright Lesya Ukrainka.

Ukrainka was born on the 25th February 1871 in the town of Novohrad-Volynokyi (now the city of Zviahel in the Zhytomyr Oblast). Her real name was Larysa Petrivna Kosach and she was the second child of Olha Drahomanova-Kosach and Petro Antonovych Kosach. The Kosachs were a family of Ukrainian nobles and activists, who were highly devoted to preserving the Ukrainian language and culture.

On the 18th May 1876, Tsar Alexander II issued a decree known as the Ems Ukase, which prohibited all publications in Ukrainian. It also banned Ukrainian-language theatre productions, public performances of Ukrainian songs and the language was banned from schools. In the 1880s, the restrictions were relaxed when plays and songs were removed from the list, but all the other restrictions remained in place. Fearful that Ukrainian in print could be permanently erased, Ukrainka’s father, Petro funded publications out of his own pocket.

Ukrainka and her siblings were educated at home by private tutors and their mother Olha in Ukrainian. Ukrainka also learned French, German, English, Italian, Greek, Latin, Polish, Russian and Bulgarian. She showed early signs of her writing talent when she wrote her first poem at 8 years old. It was her mother who pushed her towards writing and also taught her about feminism and the cause for Ukrainian culture. Olha would take her children on regular trips to the countryside where they could hear the peasants conversing in Ukrainian and singing regional folk songs, but to also admire the beauty of the rural landscapes. All this combined would shape the essential elements and themes of Ukrainka’s writings.

Larysa Kosach took the more apt pen name “Lesya Ukrainka” (“Ukrainka” means “Ukrainian woman”). Her first poem was published when she was 13 years old and in her career, she would write an impressive collection of poems, dramas and other literary and political works. She was a feminist writer who gave women a voice, a theme she especially touches on in her drama Cassandra, which retells Homer’s Iliad from the perspective of the tragic Trojan princess Cassandra. Needless to say, her works were also as a metaphor of the Russian Empire’s repressions against Ukraine and she became a strong activist for the language and culture, taking the risk to write her works and translating the works of others into Ukrainian, including Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels’s The Communist Manifesto.

Lesya Ukrainka left behind a legacy that shaped Ukrainian literature and culture. Unfortunately, her life was cut short by delicate health. She died on the 1st August 1913, aged 42, at a health resort in Sumari, Georgia. She is buried in the Baikove Cemetery in Kyiv. On the 16th November 2022, the Pushkin Avenue in Dnipro was renamed Lesya Ukrainka Avenue.

The Forest Song

One of Ukrainka’s most famous work is her play The Forest Song, a work that can especially be read as a love letter to Ukraine. According to an article by W. Besoushko, “In The Forest Song Lesya built a monument to her country, with its beautiful woods and lakes and superstitions. The work deserves a Mendelssohn composition for accompaniment.”1 The story is a fantasy tale and a tragic love story between the forest nymph Mavka and the mortal man Lukash, which brings the worlds of mortals and the supernatural together, but, as in many romantic stories, all ends in tragedy.

As Besoushko states above, Ukrainka was inspired by the national forests and mythology, as she explained in a letter to her mother:

“It seems to me, that I just remembered our forests and longed for them. And then I have always kept that Mavka in my mind, for a long time, ever since you told me something about Mavkas in Zhaborytsia when we were walking through a forest with small but very dense trees. Then in Kolodyazhne, on a moonlit night, I ran into the woods alone (you didn't know that) and there I waited for Mavka to appear. And over Nechimne, I imagined her, as we spent the night there — you remember — with my uncle Lev Skulinsky. Apparently, I already had to write it once, and now for some reason, the 'right time' has come — I myself do not understand why. I am fascinated by this image forever.”

While Ukrainka’s play is rather unknown in the west, Slavic mythology is no stranger to the stage, appearing in several 19th century operas and ballets. The most famous ballet in which an element based on Slavic mythology appears is Giselle. Although the ballet is set in Germany, the wilis, the ghostly killer-brides, are based on the Slavic fairy maidens the vila and the samodiva. The legend of the vila also served as inspiration for Giacomo Puccini’s opera Le Villi. Another 19th century Slavic-themed ballet was Roxana, the Beauty of Montenegro by Marius Petipa that features not only wilis, but witches and vampires based on the variants from Eastern European folklore. There was also Mlada, a work given in various versions, based on the myths of the pagan Slavic gods. But perhaps best known in this respect is Antonin Dvořák’s opera Rusalka, which is based on the legend of the rusalka, a water nymph or fresh-water mermaid.

The principal character of The Forest Song is Mavka, a forest nymph. According to the myth, mavkas are similar to rusalkas in that they are the spirits of young maidens who died unnatural, tragic deaths, such as drowning, or they were young girls or babies who had died unbaptised. They are beautiful women with green eyes and long hair (usually also green), but they have no skin on their backs so their internal organs and spines are visible from behind. The mavka appears frequently in Ukrainian folklore and culture: in some cases, she is harmless, while in others, she is malignant. Like the rusalka, she can be deadly as she lures young men into the forest and tickles them to death.

Ukrainka wrote her play in the summer of 1911 and it was published a year later. She never lived to see her work in performance because it was staged in production five years after her death. The Forest Song premièred at the Kyiv Drama Theatre (now, the Ivan Franko National Academic Drama Theatre) on the 22nd November 1918. The play has since been staged all around Ukraine. It was also adapted into two ballets, two operas, two full-length live-action films in 1963 and 1980 respectively, and an animated film in 2023.

Before looking at how The Forest Song became a ballet, I will go into an overlook into ballet in the early decades of the Soviet Union because it helps to understand how the art form developed in Ukraine.

In the 19th century, ballet was very popular in Europe, but it flourished the most in Russia by the artistic genius of the Frenchmen Jules Perrot, Arthur Saint-Léon and Marius Petipa. At the turn of the 20th century, the avant-garde began through the innovations of Mikhail Fokine, which manifested with the establishment of Sergei Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes. But after years of ballet as a theatrical art form that brought entertainment to its audiences, everything would change in that fateful year of 1917 and it was after this dark period that the Ukrainian ballet would be established.

Ballet after the 1917 Revolution (1919-1931)

In 1917, the fuse that set off the Russian Revolution was ignited. The Tsar was dethroned and murdered, and the Bolsheviks seized power in Russia, declaring the beginning of a new socialist era, an era of turmoil and bloodshed. The arts and culture would get caught up in the chaos, especially ballet and from 1919 to 1922, it was the subject of an ideological debate. Radical party members questioned ballet’s right to exist, wishing to conform to a uniquely proletarian culture, but there were those who were firm supporters of ballet and who would repeatedly fight for its survival.

The demand was for the arts and culture to represent and reflect the socialist, realist ideologies of the Soviet Union. In other words, they were to be tools for Soviet propaganda. If ballet was to survive, it had to submit to the political pressure that was calling for the former imperial ballet to be reshaped into a Soviet art form. This was no easy task and the 1920s was a decade of choreographic experimentations as the ballet artists looked for ways to make ballet fit the Soviet mould.

From 1928 to 1931, an era known as the cultural revolution took place where new policies increased the ideological pressure on the arts. Ballets, operas and plays were categorised to determine which were suitable for the repertoire - those that were kept had to undergo change while others were banned. But in 1931, Joseph Stalin relaxed some of these policies, ending the cultural revolution and its militant call for proletariat dominance of the arts. Around the same time, a new ballet genre emerged - the drambalet, a genre that placed dramatic narrative at the forefront over music and dance, a genre of “danced pantomime” and “dramatised dance”, a rejection of the traditional, classical structure of Petipa with its removal of pantomime and large-scale divertissements. Basically, the drambalet was something of a danced play with music and no spoken words.

Of course, the drambalet was another tool of Soviet propaganda and by Stalin’s orders, it was the only acceptable ballet genre from the 1930s until the 1950s. Once Stalin slammed down his iron fist, the Soviet Ballet had to follow this policy - Petipa’s ballets and the other 19th century classics had to be “Sovietised” to fit the new genre. Any new ballets had to be created as a drambalet and the topic could be anything from classic literature and/or new stories. The earliest drambalets were Boris Asafiev and Vasily Vainonen’s Flames of Paris (1932) and Asafiev and Rostislav Zakharov’s The Fountain of Bakhchisarai (1934).

The policies that transformed ballet in Russia also served as part of the foundations that formed ballet in Ukraine. Ukraine declared independence in 1917, but this independence was short-lived and in 1919, a new Ukrainian Soviet government was formed that fought against nationalists. In 1922, Ukraine was absorbed as a founding state of the Soviet Union and became the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic. Any policies on arts and culture introduced by the Politburo applied not just to Russia, but to Ukraine and every corner of the USSR.

Ballet in Ukraine

Ballet first came to Ukraine in the 18th century through the serf theatres and throughout the 19th century, it mainly appeared across the country through visiting ballet troupes. In the early 20th century, several dancers from the Imperial Ballet toured the Ukrainian cities, including Anna Pavlova, Lyubov Egorova, Tamara Karsavina and Samuil Andrianov. Two prominent ballet artists worked in Kyiv on a long-term basis - Mikhail Mordkin from 1916 to 1922 and Bronislava Nijinska from 1915 to 1921. But it was not until after the 1917 Revolution that the Ukrainian Ballet was established.

The ballet company of Odesa was established in 1923 by the Italian Roberto (Robert) Balanotti, who staged Swan Lake for their première performance. In 1925, the ballet company of Kharkiv was established and for their première performance, Balanotti also staged Swan Lake. In 1926, the ballet company of Kyiv was established and the Russian ballet master Leonid Zhukov staged La Bayadère for the première performance. Zhukov was one of three ballet masters from Russia who went to Ukraine in 1926 to further establish the art of ballet there. In Kyiv, he also staged Giselle, Swan Lake and Don Quixote. The other two were Kasian Goleizkovsky, who went to Odesa, where he staged some of his own ballets - In the Sunshine and Joseph the Beautiful - and Vladimir Ryabstev, who went to Kharkiv, where he staged The Little Humpbacked Horse and Le Corsaire.

For the first decade of their existence, the Ukrainian companies’ repertoires were mostly made up of the classics, but in 1931, what has been labelled as the first “Ukrainian Ballet” was staged in Kharkiv on the 19th April. This ballet was called Pan Kanevsky and was based on a Ukrainian folk song. The composer was Mykhalyo Verykivskyi and the choreographer was Vasyl Lytvynenko. Though it was short-lived, Pan Kanevsky was the first step to bringing national-themed ballets to the stage. By the time The Forest Song was adapted into a ballet, the timing could not have been more significant, culturally, historically and politically.

From 1932-33, Ukraine was struck by one of its darkest chapters in the form in one of the most horrific genocides in world history - the Holodomor, a man-made famine caused by Stalin’s aggressive collectivisation of the agricultural sector, which starved millions of Ukrainian peasants to death. The famine also crushed Ukrainization, which Stalin, in his signature tactic to twist reality to shift blame from himself and the politburo, blamed for the food requisition failures. The Ukrainian Communist Party and the Ukrainian National Movement were mercilessly purged and there was a huge crackdown on Ukrainian culture and language. Various Ukrainian-language institutions - schools, universities and theatres - were shut down; newspapers and books were banned and replaced with Russian-language ones, and many figures of the arts, culture and educational fields were arrested, exiled, imprisoned and murdered; others committed suicide. The Ukrainian language was banned in favour of the Russian language and every Ukrainian had no choice but to speak, read and write only Russian. The Russification of Ukraine and hundreds of thousands of ethnic Ukrainians had begun.

But on the ballet and opera stage, remnants of Ukrainian culture and nationalism would not cease to exist.

The Forest Song becomes a ballet

In 1936, the year of the 65th anniversary of Lesya Ukrainka’s birth, it was decided that The Forest Song would be adapted into a ballet. Many of Ukrainka’s works were banned in the Soviet Union, but The Forest Song managed to survive, probably because it is a fairy play and contemporary fairy plays were acceptable for stage productions under the criteria laid by the Soviet government. But to simply suggest that The Forest Song was selected as a new ballet because its genre met the Politburo’s criteria and because it is one of Ukraine’s most iconic literary works is too easy an explanation. The real reason why the ballet was met with a seal of approval was clearly because it served the propaganda strategy.

From the perspective of the Politburo, politics and nationalism were undoubtedly key factors into how The Forest Song became a ballet and why it was allowed to become one. When the drambalet became the only acceptable ballet genre in the USSR, the Politburo strongly encouraged the creation of new works in the satellite states that contained strong nationalist themes and topics, promoting each nation’s individual culture. By the 1930s, they were using the arts as a propaganda tool to display the whole of the Soviet Union as a supposed “brotherhood of nations”. In reality, it was all part of the cover up of Stalin’s crimes. A Ukrainian-themed ballet was undoubtedly meant to work as the perfect cover for the genocide that had cast a dark shadow over the nation three years earlier and all the other horrors inflicted by the man of steel.

From the perspective of the Ukrainian ballet community, given the time of repressive terror that Ukraine had undergone and was still undergoing by 1936, a ballet adaptation of The Forest Song strongly suggests that they wanted to prove that Ukrainian culture had not been destroyed. However, any information detailing how the opera houses, and the ballet and opera companies survived and operated in the 1930s is currently unavailable, so this is to be left as a separate study. For now, there is enough information that tells us about this most beloved Ukrainian ballet.

The ballet score for The Forest Song was composed by the Ukrainian composer Mykhailo Skorulskyi. In her essay on the National Ballet of Ukraine’s website, Maria Zagaykevych writes that ‘Skorulskyi’s music has been described as full of “juicy orchestral colours” and “emotional fullness”. The score’s dominant features are “penetrating melody, lyricism and romanticism.” A significant element is Skorulskyi’s usage of Ukrainian folk songs, particularly the musical folklore of Volyn, as well as a musical embodiment of the deep experiences of the main characters.’2

The libretto was written by Skorulskyi’s daughter Natalia Skorulska, who was a ballerina at the National Opera and Ballet Theatre of Ukraine. Father and daughter set themselves the task of honouring and respecting the source material as much as possible, aiming to accurately capture the true meaning of Ukrainka’s work. They were determined that the ballet adaptation should do the play justice by producing emotional colour in the music and choreography, preserving the main images and plot elements, internal logic and dramatic development, in which reality is interwoven with fantasy. However, it proved impossible to adapt the play into a ballet without changes that would fit the ballet genre. Therefore, some episodes from the play were shortened, others were expanded, and new scenes were added, namely the scene of Lukash’s wedding to Kilina.

This scene follows the tradition of wedding scenes from other ballets where the heroine interrupts the festivities as her beloved prepares to marry her rival, which drives him mad, for example, James’s wedding to Effie in La Sylphide and the wedding of Gamzatti and Solor in La Bayadère. However, the scene also promotes the imagery of a happy village, presenting a romanticisation of Ukrainian peasant life. Ania Nikulina comments that several Ukrainian ballet librettos present the latter image and the motive was very likely to be political, seemingly a tribute to the millions of peasants murdered by Stalin.

The score was completed in 1936 and was accepted by the National Opera and Ballet Theatre as their newest work. Georgian ballet master Sergey Sergeev was assigned as choreographer, but there would be a long delay before the ballet could première. According to Zagaykevych, it was the outbreak of the Second World War that caused the delay in The Forest Song’s première. When the war broke out, the National Opera and Ballet Theatre was closed, and the opera and ballet companies and the ballet school were evacuated to Irkutsk and Ufa in Siberia. The première of The Forest Song would not happen until 1946, ten years after it was completed. However, the timeline does not add up and Zagaykevych never mentions a very significant part of Ukrainian history that occurred before World War II. From 1937( the year after the ballet was completed) to 1938, the Great Terror occurred, which saw the purge of many Ukrainian artists; the Second World War began in 1939 and the Nazis invaded the Soviet Union in 1941.

There is also the fact that Zagaykevych does not state when it was intended for The Forest Song to première - was it in 1936, the year of the 65th anniversary of Lesya Ukrainka’s birth? Or was it in 1941, the year of the 70th anniversary of her birth? Either way, it raises questions as to why Zagaykevych does not go into more detail and why she never mentions the Great Terror. The outbreaks of both the Great Terror and the Second World War would surely explain why it took ten years for the ballet to première.

Eventually, after the war had finally ended, The Forest Song received its world première at the Kyiv National Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet named after Taras Shevchenko on, presumably, the 25th February 1946 (the day is not certain) during the celebration for the 75^th anniversary of Lesya Ukrainka’s birth. The Prima Ballerina Antonina Vasilyeva danced the role of Mavka and the principal dancer Oleksandr Berdovskyi danced Lukash.

Since its première, The Forest Song has become one of the most prominent and celebrated ballets of the Ukrainian Ballet repertoire, with its topic promoting and epitomising national identity and culture. In 1958, the ballet was staged in a new production with new choreography by Vakhtang Vronsky, in collaboration with Natalia Skorulska. Vronsky’s production has since been revived three times at the National Opera and Ballet Theatre, first in 1972 by Skorulska. The second revival was by Valery Kovtun in 1986 and the third and final revival was Viktor Lytvynov, which coincided with the 120^th anniversary of the birth of Lesya Ukrainka.

Conclusion

In conclusion, this was not an easy topic to research because of the lack of information regarding the history of The Forest Song ballet. But there are also many other missing pieces, namely the history of ballet in Ukraine at the time when the ballet was created. There are many areas in the field of ballet history that have yet to be researched and addressed, and the history of ballet in Ukraine is one such area. This essay reminds us that there is much to uncover here and it is my aim that this is the first step in that mission: to uncover more about the history of the Ukrainian ballet.

On a personal note, I dedicate this essay to Ukraine, to the people of Ukraine, to all in the Ukrainian ballet community, but especially, to my Ukrainian friends. I dedicate this to them as they continue to fight for their country’s freedom and as my friends in the ballet community continue to fight for Ukrainian culture. Their bravery, strength and resilience is so incredible, it’s difficult to describe in words, but I am so proud of them and so in awe of them; they are a true inspiration. I aim for this essay, future writings and projects of mine about the Ukrainian ballet to contribute to this cause. I stand with Ukraine all the way, I will keep giving them all my full support and I will do what I can to contribute to their fight for their nation’s freedom and their culture. Слава Україні!

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Appendix

Libretto of The Forest Song

Based on that written on the website of the National Opera and Ballet Theatre of Ukraine

Act 1

By a pond in a glade deep in the forest, as soon as the leaves on the trees have barely fluttered open, turning green, a group of mermaids emerges from the pond and dances. The water sprite known as He Who Rends the Dikes runs playfully and swiftly into the forest glade and embraces the head Mermaid, the daughter of the Waterman, begging her to run away with him. But her angry father is on guard and drives off the seducer, taking the naughty Mermaid to the bottom of the pond.

The villagers, Uncle Lev and Lukash come to the forest. Lukash carves a flute out of some reeds and plays sweet music, which stirs the inhabitants of the forest, and the forest nymph Mavka awakes from her winter sleep. She suddenly appears before Lukash to stop him when he intends cut down a white-barked birch tree and is struck by her beauty. However, Perelesnyk, the Fire Spirit appears and attempts to seduce Mavka, but she rejects his advances. Lukash returns and assists the frightened nymph. Lukash and Mavka fall in love, but the Mermaid and the forest imp Kutz appear and lure Lukash into the pond, but Mavka intercedes and saves him. Uncle Lev returns and Lukash introduces him to Mavka. Feeling uneasy, Uncle Lev tells Lukash it is time to leave. Lukash and Mavka kiss goodbye and Lukash leaves, leaving the forest nymph overwhelmed by feelings she has never known. The Mermaid and Kutz return with their fellow mermaids and imps and tell Mavka to forget the mortal, but Mavka’s feelings are too strong and when she finds Lukash’s flute that he left behind, she follows him.

Act 2

Mavka has joined Lukash at his home near the forest glade and they are planning to marry. However, Lukash’s abusive mother does not approve of the gentle Mavka and orders the young couple to get to work, chopping wood and harvesting wheat. She forces a sickle into Mavka’s hand, which saddens the nymph, and she makes her way to the wheat field. The Nymph of the Field appears with her fellow nymphs, and they implore Mavka to abandon Lukash and return to the forest. Although their company brightens Mavka’s spirits, she cannot forget Lukash.

Lukash’s mother brings in the young widow, Kilina, who is a very arduous worker. She berates Mavka for failing to work, but Kilina takes the sickle and harvests the wheat, much to Mavka’s distress. Lukash enters and his mother introduces him to Kilina, instructing him to help her with the harvest. Kilina entices Lukash and he cannot resist. Mavka witnesses all and is heartbroken. Perelesnyk, the mermaids and the imps appear, but all is interrupted by the demon known as He Who Dwells in the Rock, who reaches out his hand to Mavka. Mavka rushes to Lukash and imploringly looks into his eyes, but he spurns her. In desperation, Mavka throws herself into the arms of the monster and heavy boulders seal her away.

In the village, the villagers to celebrate Lukash and Kilina’s wedding. There is much merriment in the air, but during the celebrations, a vision of the despondent Mavka appears to Lukash and he is overcome with horror at his betrayal. Leaving Kilina and the guests, he flees into the forest.

Act 3

The forest creatures take revenge on Lukash for his betrayal, and he loses his reason. By the powers of her love, Mavka breaks free from the rocks that imprisoned her and comes to her beloved. Upon seeing her, Lukash falls at her feet, but the shame of betraying his wife drives him away. Kilina emerges from the house and encounters Mavka. She curses her rival and Mavka transforms into a willow tree. Terrified, Kilina flees back into the house, but her son cuts a flute from the willow. Lukash returns, exhausted, and his stepson asks him to play his new flute. Magic sounds pour out in which he hears his beloved’s voice again. Angry, Kilina tries to make Lukash cut down the willow, but he refuses, so Kilina swings the axe herself, but Perelesnyk appears and protects the willow. He sets fire to Lukash’s house and Kilina, her son and Lukash’s mother run away, Lukash, forgetting everything in the world, plays the song of lost love on his flute.

It begins to snow. Like a magical dream, Mavka appears to Lukash; her soul speaks to him, and they reaffirm their love. The snow covers Lukash, and he freezes to death while the spirit of Mavka gazes at him lovingly before she disappears.

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Sources

• Lesya Ukrainka, The Forest Song (1912). From the original publication Spirit of Flame: A Collection of the Works of Lesya Ukrainka. Translated by Percival Cundy (1950)

• The National Opera and Ballet Theatre of Ukraine website - Repertoire - The Forest Song

• Christina Erzahi, Swans of the Kremlin: Ballet and Power in Soviet Russia (2012). University of Pittsburgh Press & Dance Books Ltd, Pittsburgh, PA/Hampshire UK

• Elizabeth Souritz, Soviet Choreographers in the 1920s (1979). 1990 ed. Duke University Press, USA

• Ania Nikulina, Ballet in Ukraine: A Site of Tension Between Imperialism and Nationalism (2020). University of California, USA

• Daily JSTOR - Lesya Ukrainka: Ukraine’s Beloved Writer and Activist

• Ukrainian Institute London - Who is Lesia Ukrainka?

• Wikipedia - Lesya Ukrainka, The Forest Song, Ballet (pages in English and Ukrainian)

• Serhii Plokhy, The Gates of Europe: A History of Ukraine (2015). Penguin Books, 2016 ed. UK

• Anne Applebaum, Red Famine: Stalin’s War on Ukraine (2017). Penguin Books, UK

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Le Corsaire is one of the few ballets created in post-Romantic Paris that still dominates the repertoire today. Created by Joseph Mazilier and Adolphe Adam, staged in three acts and five scenes and loosely based on the poem by Lord Byron, it tells the story of the pirate Conrad and his mission to save his beloved Medora from an unwanted marriage to the Seyd Pasha. The ballet premièred at the Salle Le Peletier in Paris on the 23^rd January 1856. Two years later, Le Corsaire was introduced to Russia by Jules Perrot, who staged it for the Saint Petersburg Imperial Ballet in 1858. It was in Russia that the ballet was given a permanent home, mainly thanks to the revivals of Marius Petipa, who staged four revivals in 1863, 1868, 1880 and 1899 respectively.

As with all the Parisian ballets that survived in Russia, survival meant Le Corsaire would have undergo some changes, namely the introductions of new music and dances. Adam’s music score would undergo multiple revisions to include new numbers and materials by Cesare Pugni, Petr Georgievich, Duke of Oldenburg, Léo Delibes and Riccardo Drigo, nearly all of which went onto become the ballet’s most famous numbers. One such number is the Pas d’esclave, a pas de deux that is performed in Act 1, scene 1, as well as in galas and competitions. Contrary to popular belief, the Pas d’esclave is not an original number by Adam and Mazilier, but a new piece that was introduced by Perrot and Pugni in 1858. In this article, I will explore the history of this famous pas, starting with the scenario of the opening scene in the original Paris production.

The original Paris production, 1856

Act 1, scene 1 is a set in a marketplace in Adrianople where slave traders are looking to sell their female slaves. Conrad and his band of corsairs arrive, and he explains he has come to meet his beloved Medora, who appears on her balcony and throws him a selam of flowers as a token of her love. However, Medora’s guardian, Isaac Lanquedem orders her inside. The Seyd Pasha arrives, and the slave traders try to sell him some of their women, but none interest him until he catches sight of Medora and insists on buying her. Lanquedem agrees to the sale, much to Medora’s dismay, but Conrad hatches a plan to “kidnap” her, to which she complies. Conrad calls the corsairs to drink and make merry and when he gives the signal, the corsairs make off with Medora, Lanquedem and the slave girls to their ship and they set sail to their hideout.

Adam’s original score for the 1856 production included two dances in the first scene. The first was a pas de cinq, performed by five female slaves of different nationalities – Italian, Polish, French, Spanish and English. The pas is composed of an entrée, five variations and a coda. It is a character-variety dance suite with the dancers wearing heeled shoes and native costumes, combining academic and character-style vocabulary. The context of the pas de cinq is that each of the women are trying to impress the Pasha, but he shows no interest in any of them as he wants to buy Medora only.

The second dance was the Corsairs’ bacchanale, an exciting, energetic dance originally performed by Conrad’s first mate Birbanto and two female soloists, and a corps de ballet of sixteen men and women. The latter dance is the scene’s finale as the corsairs stir up merriment before Conrad gives the signal for them to “abduct” Medora and the other women.

The Saint Petersburg production, 1858

When Le Corsaire was brought to Russia by Perrot in 1858, while the original plot was retained, changes awaited the libretto in the form of new dances. For the first scene, only the Corsairs’ bacchanale was retained, but in a revised version by Pugni, who expanded it with new music. The Pas de cinq was omitted and at the première, a new dance entitled the pas Aragonnaise was performed by the Polish dancer Wiktoria Koslovska, (a guest artist from the Warsaw Opera), two female students and three men. The music might have been by Pugni, though this is unclear. What is clear is that this number seems to only have been added especially for Koslovska because by the 16^th April [O.S. 4^th April] 1858, it was no longer listed on the poster. Possibly around the same time, if not later, a new dance was introduced to the first scene – L’esclave, pas scènique, which eventually came to be known as the Pas d’esclave.

It has been widely believed that Petipa, who played Conrad in the 1858 production, served as Perrot’s assistant and was given permission to choreograph new dances, which were believed to have been the Pas d’esclave and the Pas de trois des odalisques from Act 2. However, this has been reported without concrete evidence, which, according to Doug Fullington and Marian Smith, could be part of a trend among scholars of giving more credit to Petipa than to other choreographers of the 19^th century whose works and contributions are not as well-known as the former’s.[1] In other words, this could be a case of turning too quickly to the figure with the highest profile and ignoring the others. The idea of Petipa serving as assistant to Perrot, however, is admittedly perfectly plausible as he had previously co-staged Parisian ballets in Saint Petersburg after his arrival in 1847. In the case of who introduced the new dances to Le Corsaire, including L’esclave, pas scènique, the evidence points to Perrot. Ivor Guest, Perrot’s biographer, noted that Perrot had added a new dance to the first scene for Marfa Muravieva, the Imperial Theatre’s rising star at the time. A poster for a performance on the 20^th November [O.S. 8^th November] 1859 credits the choreography of L’esclave, pas scènique to Perrot and the music arrangement to Pugni.

The pas was originally composed of an entrée, adagio and coda and the music is by Petr Georgievich, Duke of Oldenburg, arranged by Pugni. Grand Duke Petr Georgievich was the cousin of the Tsar, grandson of Tsar Paul I and an amateur composer. The music in question inserted into Le Corsaire is from his ballet The Rose, the Violet and the Butterfly, which premièred in 1857.[2] L’esclave, pas scenique was originally performed by three dancers – a male-female couple (the female dancer was Muravieva) and Isaac Lanquedem (Alexander Picheau?)[3] and the context of the pas is a slave trader trying to sell his slave, similar to that of the pas de cinq. Interestingly, the poster for the aforementioned 1859 performance lists Muravieva, Alexander Prosbin and Nikolai Golts (the Pasha) as the performers, though it is not clear if major changes or any changes were made.

Petipa’s revivals

The first of Petipa’s revivals of Le Corsaire premièred on the 5^th February [O.S. 24^th January] 1863. Collaborating with Pugni, Petipa began making his own touches to the ballet, including further revisions on those introduced by Perrot, the introduction of new dances of his own design and expanding the ballet from three acts and five scenes into four acts and five scenes. But what of L’esclave, pas scènique? The poster does not name Lanquedem or the Pasha as one of its performers, so it seems that this was when the pas was first performed as a pas de deux. In Petipa’s second revival, which premièred in 1868, the pas was now simply called L’Esclave and had seemingly been expanded into a pas de six, as suggested by the number of dancers who performed it. The poster lists Alexandra Shaposhnikova and Lev Ivanov, accompanied by four women. For the benefit performance of Ekaterina Vazem that was held on the 16^th February [O.S. 4^th February] 1873[4], Petipa added a new Pas d’esclave in the opening scene that was performed by Vazem (Medora), Ivanov (Conrad), Picheau (Lanquedem) and Pavel Gerdt as an additional cavalier. It appears that this Pas d’esclave was a new piece completely different from L’Esclave, which was not listed on the poster, as stated by the following account of the critic of Petersburgskaya Gazeta:

She [Vazem] showed all the strength of her talent in the exemplary performance of a new large pas d’ésclave specially staged for her by M. Marius Petipa[5].

However, there appears to be no mention of what music was used for this new pas. If it was not Duke Oldenburg’s music, perhaps it was an arrangement of other music by Pugni or Adam or it was new music, maybe composed by Ludwig Minkus[6], but, of course, this is just conjecture.

L’Esclave was included in the 1899 revival (Petipa’s final revival) and by then, it was now known by the familiar title Pas d’esclave and was performed by a male slave trader and a female slave. The Pas d’esclave is among the dances included in the notation scores of the Sergeyev Collection, notated by the Imperial Theatre regisseur Nikolai Sergeyev and his assistants. Le Corsaire was notated between 1894 and 1906, and the Pas d’esclave is dated 1905. The scores reveal that by this point, the structure of the pas was the entrée, adagio, two variations and the coda. The names of the dancers on the scores are those of Varvara Rykhlyakova and Sergei Legat. Rykhlyakova performed the Pas d’esclave in the 1899 première with Nikolai Legat (Sergei’s brother) and Sergei Legat performed it with Lydia Kyaksht on the 2^nd October [O.S. 19^th September] 1904, the first performance of Le Corsaire in the 1904-05 season.

One thing that is not quite clear, however, is when variations were introduced to the Pas d’esclave. Both variations included in the repetiteur score in the Sergeyev Collection were composed after 1880 (the year of Petipa’s third revival), though variations might have been included after Petipa’s first revival in 1863, but they would not have been the variations that are danced today. The two variations in the Sergeyev Collection are those that are danced today. According to the piano edition of the Le Corsaire score owned by Yuri Burlaka, the male variation was composed by Vladimir Tsybin, an artist of the Mariinsky Orchestra, and added to the Pas d’esclave in 1914. This variation was created especially for Pierre Vladimirov, who performed the pas on the 3^rd January 1915 [O.S. 21^st December 1914] with Lyubov Egorova and the poster credits Tsybin as the variation’s composer. However, the male variation is not notated, and it is unknown what variation(s) the Legat brothers danced. One might ask if they danced variation(s) at all, but the likelihood that they did is very high since they were two of the most frequent performers of male variations.

The repetiteur tells us that the female variation (which is notated) is from Petipa’s ballet The Vestal, which was composed by Mikhail Ivanov and premièred on the 17^th February [O.S. 29^th January] 1888. The variation is listed as the Variation of Maria Gorshenkova, who danced the second ballerina role of Claudia in the première. According to Burlaka, this variation is by Riccardo Drigo, who was the conductor at the première and is known to have composed several supplementary pieces that were interpolated into the score.

The notations also reveal that there is pantomime in the Pas d’esclave, which means it is a pas d’action rather than a pas de deux. The narrative tells us that the slave trader is trying to sell his slave to the Pasha, while the slave pleads with him not to buy her. Doug Fullington and Marian Smith provide the following account of what the notation scores tells us about the final section of the coda:

‘At the end of the coda, the woman runs to the Pasha and kneels in front of him, beseeching, “You, let me go,” to which he answers, “Go!” She runs away to centre and, after an initial pas de bourrée, performs a series of six demi-emboîtes derrière and “3 jété” three times to alternate sides. She approaches the Pasha a final time, performing temps levés en demi-arabesque, pas de bourrée six times to alternate sides. The Pasha bids her “Farewell, farewell,” suggesting he has ultimately acquiesced and let her go.’[7]

Today, Le Corsaire is staged in various productions and the Pas d’esclave remains one of its highlights. In many modern productions, it is performed by the second ballerina role Gulnare and Lanquedem, a tradition that seems to have started in Pyotr Gusev’s 1955 production for the Maly/Mikhailovsky Ballet, which became one of the most popular productions in Soviet Russia and is still performed today by the Mariinsky Ballet. Gusev’s production transferred Gulnare’s entrance to Act 1, as opposed to the original Paris production and subsequent Russian productions where she makes her first appearance in Act 2, while Lanquedem, like with many roles that were originally non-dance roles, became a second danseur role. The modern context of the Pas d’esclave became that Lanquedem persuades the Pasha to buy Gulnare, one of his most prized slaves, and the Pasha agrees.

One of several pieces of Le Corsaire with an interesting history, beginning as an interpolation that replaced an original number, the Pas d’esclave, under the creative eyes of Perrot, Pugni and Petipa became one of the ballet repertoire’s most famous and celebrated pieces and it continues to excite audiences whenever it is brought to the stage.

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References

[1] Five Ballets from Paris and Saint Petersburg (2024) by Doug Fullington and Marian Smith, p. 409
[2] There is some confusion regarding the date and the location of the première and the identity of the choreographer of this ballet. Some credit Petipa, others credit Perrot; some sources say the première took place in October 1857 at the Imperial estate of Tsarskoe Selo; others say it was at the Imperial Bolshoi Theatre in Saint Petersburg.
[3] Picheau portrayed Lanquedem in the 1858 première.
[4] Vazem débuted as Medora opposite Petipa as Conrad on the 19^th April [O.S. 7^th April] 1868 and she performed in Le Corsaire for her benefit in 1873.
[5] Petersburgskaya Gazeta, 18^th February [O.S. 6^th February] 1873, qtd. in Khronika III, 145, qtd. in Five Ballets from Paris and St Petersburg (2024) by Doug Fullington and Marian Smith
[6] Minkus was the official Ballet Composer of the Imperial Theatres at the time, having succeeded Pugni, who had died three years earlier.
[7] From Five Ballets from Paris and St Petersburg (2024) by Doug Fullington and Marian Smith, p. 424

Sources

• Doug Fullington and Marian Smith (2024) From Five Ballets from Paris and St. Petersburg. New York City, USA: Oxford University Press

• Ivor Guest (1984) Jules Perrot, Master of the Romantic Ballet. London, UK: Dance Books Ltd

• Nadine Meisner (2019) Marius Petipa: The Emperor’s Ballet Master. New York City, US: Oxford University Press

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As of now, I am launching a new series here on my Substack that I am calling Ballet History Series. In this series, I will publish, post and share essays and articles about ballet history, offering some extra historical information that will not be published on my website for The Marius Petipa Society. The Marius Petipa Society is packed with information, but squeezing too much information onto one platform can be too much for both the reader and the writer. Therefore, I have decided to space everything out with a new Substack series and here is the first entry.

Snowflakes, a short ballet by Anna Pavlova

Snowflakes was a short ballet based on the snow forest scene from Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker created by Anna Pavlova during her season at the Palace Theatre in London in the summer of 1911. Pavlova had performed in The Nutcracker at the Imperial Theatre in Saint Petersburg and she had watched Olga Preobrazhenskaya and Matilda Kschessinskaya dance the Sugar Plum Fairy on numerous occasions, and now, she wanted to create her own Nutcracker ballet using selected numbers from Tchaikovsky’s score. Snowflakes was initially created as a children’s ballet as Pavlova wanted to follow the tradition at the Imperial Theatre of casting children, and she scouted around the London dancing classes for her little dancing snowflakes. The role danced by Pavlova was a Snow Queen and I believe she was partnered by Laurent Novikov as a Snow King; the choreographer was her Ballet Master Ivan Clustine.

Snowflakes premièred on the 7^th August 1911 at the Palace Theatre and was well-received; the use of children proved especially popular. The critic of The Era wrote of Snowflakes:

“There is no thought of the cold white shroud about the production, with its tripping diminutive fairies, who emulate the lightness of the glistening flakes and dance with joyous in a glowing winter-scape of blue and white. There are concerted numbers, and they dance in trios, and more than one little maiden shows excellent promise. There is a small soloist too, who has already wonderful technique, with a career before her. Pavlova, alternately dashing and languorous, trips in her own inimitable fashion, and the little ballet, which is just long enough.”[1]

Snowflakes became a popular member of Pavlova’s repertoire and was performed many times across Europe and the United States. The children were subsequently replaced by adults as the snowflakes and Novikov would be succeeded by Alexander Volinine as the Snow King.

Programmes of Pavlova’s tours to the United States list the libretto of the ballet’s dance numbers (see image below):

1. Waltz of the Snowflakes
2. Pas de deux
3. Pas de cinq
4. Variations
5. Pas de trois
6. Coda

A more detailed account of Snowflakes was written by one of Pavlova’s dancers, Harcourt Algeranoff, who joined her company in 1921, in his book My Years with Pavlova:

“As I got into my white velvet tunic with its jagged sleeves trimmed with silver icicles and swansdown snow, I was inclined to revert to the opinion I held when I was eight, when Pavlova first danced it in London – I thought that “Snowflakes” was ‘soppy’; but when I came on to the stage and saw the entire scheme I realised my mistake. Surrounded by the heavy snow-laden pine trees, the girls in their glistening white ballet skirts, with silver and swansdown kokshniks on their heads (I was proud of knowing this word) I no longer needed to be convinced that the men’s costumes would have looked ridiculous had they been in any way different. The crisp staccato notes of the ‘Casse-Noisette’ overture filtered through the curtain. As it rose and the dancing began, I felt that I would never forget this moment. How many hundreds of times since then have I stood in my white costume and took part in the same scene. But every time was a delight, and I still remember every moment.

… Griffiths enters with a series of déboulés, and is joined by Warzinski and Zalewski, then the men enter, forming a circle which diminishes as it revolves, and continue with caprioles, failles, pas de bourée, while the girls, forming an outer circle, perform coupés ballonnés en tournant, advance with petits jetés, then weaving out of the circle into two columns, and back again into circles each moving in opposite directions, until the dance ends in two diagonals of groups. The first valse over, there was a second’s silence, as on Christmas Eve, when the country is hushed by snow and the moon is full. The arpeggio began, and Pavlova and Volinine seemed to shimmer into being, when they made their first appearance in this ballet. Such beauty of line, poise and balance, such nobility – I realised the meaning of the term ‘Imperial Artist’. It had been a breath-taking experience to behold from the auditorium, but the memory of seeing it for the first time on the stage will always be a dream of magic. After the adage came the pas de trois, then Volinine’s variation full of marvellous batterie and pirouettes. Pavlova’s variation followed – were ever delicate-looking feet and ankles so strong? She danced with every fibre of her being, and seemed to take particular delight in the marked rhythm of that variation, which demanded and certainly received a great precision of interpretation. The pas de cinq followed, and then the coda with Pavlova and Volinine, and the entire Company dancing in a positive snowstorm that brought the ballet to triumphal close.”[2]

Algeranoff’s description of some of the dances helps to give a partial vision of what was staged. However, the identities of each of the music numbers that Pavlova used, except for Waltz of the Snowflakes, remains unclear. I can only guess that Pavlova and Volinine’s respective variations were those of the Sugar Plum Fairy and Prince Coqueluche and the Pas de trois and pas de cinq were probably two numbers from the Act 2 Divertissements. It has been reported that Pavlova utilised the music for the Journey through the Pine Forest for her Snow pas de deux, giving way to a modern tradition. Algeranoff mentioning an arpeggio is a clue and the music for The Journey opens with a short arpeggio.

References

[1] Quoted in Anna Pavlova: Her Life and Art (1982) by Keith Money, p. 138
[2] My Years with Pavlova (1957) by Harcourt Algeranoff, p.14-15

Sources

• Keith Money (1982) Anna Pavlova: Her Life and Art. New York, USA: Alfred A. Knope Publishers

• Harcourt Algeranoff (1957) My Years with Pavlova. Kingswood, Surrey, UK: The Windmill Press

On Tuesday 10th December, I attended the live cinema screening of the Royal Ballet in Sir Frederick Ashton’s Cinderella at the Odeon Cinema in Belfast. Ashton’s Cinderella is one of the most iconic works in the Royal Ballet repertoire. Choreographed to the score of Sergei Prokofiev, it premièred at the Royal Opera House on the 23rd December 1948, with Moira Shearer as Cinderella and Michael Somes as the Prince. Perhaps the standout feature of Ashton’s Cinderella is that he created the roles of the Ugly Stepsisters for men, following the popular English pantomime tradition. Ashton created the roles for himself and Sir Robert Helpmann and Cinderella became a popular member of the Royal Ballet repertoire, becoming a second favourite Christmas treat beside The Nutcracker.

The ballet was staged in three productions at the Royal Opera House during Ashton’s lifetime and was also adapted for television in 1957 with Margot Fonteyn as Cinderella and Ashton and Helpmann as the Stepsisters. The second production was staged in 1965 and the third in 1987, six months before Ashton’s death. In 2003, after over a decade of absence, Cinderella was revived in a new production by Wendy Ellis-Somes, who owns the rights to the ballet, and last year, the Royal Ballet brought Cinderella back to the stage in another new production for the ballet’s 75th anniversary.

Compared to the previous production, this new production is an improvement in regards to the décor, designed by Tom Pye, and costumes designed by Alexandra Byrne. Pye’s design for the décor of the second act is certainly the best, presenting a beautiful backdrop of the palace. The décor for the first act was an improvement from the previous production as it included more detail that gave more of a feel that it is set in somebody’s house and it looked well in the twinkling lights that accompanied the Fairy Godmother. The final scene with the never-ending staircase against the night sky with the moon and stars was a nice touch, but it was a tad too dark and probably would’ve looked better had the moon been shining. The costumes, especially those for Cinderella in Act 2 and the final scene, the Prince, the guests of the ball and the corps de ballet of the stars, were beautifully designed. The costume for the Fairy Godmother was a beautiful purple with a flowing skirt that added to her elegance and the costume of the Jester was a fitting red and gold-yellow combination. While it is always welcome to see colour in ballet costumes, sometimes it can be too much, as was the case for the costumes of the Stepsisters and the Four Fairy Seasons; the colours were just too vibrant, especially those on Fairy Summer’s costume (vibrant pink and yellow are not a good combination).

Now, onto the ballet. While there is no doubt that Ashton was one of the greatest choreographers of the 20th century, his Cinderella is not one of his best works. Ashton is known for his wonderful musicality and decorative footwork, but his choreography for Cinderella is too heavy and too busy and the main reason why is because of the score. It may be very popular, but Prokofiev’s Cinderella is one of the most awkward ballet scores we have. Prokofiev wanted to portray Cinderella as a real person and really show the blossoming love between Cinderella and the Prince, but the result was too modernist and too harsh with drama. Overall, it is not the right sort of score for a ballet adaptation of the Cinderella fairy tale. One can tell that Ashton was doing everything in his power to combine his choreographic style with Prokofiev’s modernism, but unfortunately, it doesn’t quite work. Had he acquired a score more in the style of the classic 19th century scores, or one that was not so harsh with such a modernist approach to drama and character arcs, the results probably would have been better.

Despite these shortcomings, we had plenty of stellar performances that made up for it, although there were two that fell flat and that was the Ugly Stepsisters, portrayed by Bennet Gartside and James Hay. Gartside and Hay are wonderful actors with a fantastic knack for comedy, but as the stepsisters, they were just too over-the-top and too drag queen-like; I found I was simply watching two men dressed as women and their flowery, vibrantly coloured costumes only added to that look. This is all clearly to do with how the roles of the stepsisters have evolved since Ashton and Helpmann; they’ve become more and more grotesque over the years and it’s more than fair to argue that only Ashton and Helpmann could do them and no one can match their level.

Luckily, there was plenty to enjoy. Dancing Cinderella and the Prince were two of the Royal Ballet’s finest dancers, Fumi Kaneko and William Bracewell. Kaneko presented such beautiful, clean technique, graceful arms and musicality; she completely mastered Cinderella’s variations, especially the difficult Act 2 variation with speedy, delicate footwork. Bracewell brought the heartfelt, warm artistry he brings to every role he dances, complete with flawless technique and lines. He and Kaneko have a wonderful partnership, one of the best in today’s Royal Ballet company as they shared amazing chemistry and Bracewell partnered Kaneko beautifully. Their pas de deux was certainly the highlight of the show.

Other cast members included Mayara Magri, who was a wonderfully warm and elegant Fairy Godmother. The Four Fairy Seasons were Isabella Gasparini (Fairy Spring), Mariko Sasaki (Fairy Summer), Meaghan Grace Hinkis (Fairy Autumn) and Claire Calvert (Fairy Winter). All gave fantastic performances of their respective variations and dances in the second and third acts. And of course, there was Daichi Ikarashi as the Jester, who flew through the air with incredible buoyant jumps and performed pirouettes of such speed, complete with stellar technique.

Overall, while this is not one of Ashton’s greatest works, it was an evening of good entertainment nonetheless and a good treat for the festive season, brought to us by the Royal Ballet’s superb dancers and complimented by some fine décor and costumes. Rating wise, I give it three stars out of five.

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