"This theater chooses its own leaders"
Eighteen seasons in just one "The Nutcracker" — the former premier of the Bolshoi Theater, and now rector of the Vaganova Academy of Russian Ballet Nikolai Tsiskaridze met with Izvestia on the main stage of his life. And he explained why, time after time, since his youth, he had always chosen her and sacrificed everything in order to perform here. He told me why he decided to leave one day and who convinced him to stay. In an exclusive interview with Izvestia dedicated to the anniversary of the GABT, Nikolai Tsiskaridze reflected on the "genius of the place", which for some reason chose him among a whole generation of talented people, and compared the Moscow stage with St. Petersburg.
"My last name symbolizes my profession and the place I serve"
— The Bolshoi Theater is 250 years old, of which about one tenth is your joint history with it. How did it start? What do you remember about the moment when you first appeared on this stage?
— Like any child, I was just in love with this beauty and the people who created here. Because this is the greatest theater in every sense of the word. When I say this, I mean singers, ballet dancers, and musicians. Of course, even then he was like that, it was a constellation. I came on stage as a child and, of course, was very fascinated by all this. I've never wanted to go anywhere from here.
When I graduated from high school, the country was falling apart. Naturally, I immediately received invitations to leave. But my childhood brain was shaped in such a way that art was associated only with this theater. Therefore, despite the fact that I was invited to other theaters immediately to a leading position, and here I got into the corps de ballet, I said: "No, I'll go to the corps de ballet, but to the Big One. Other than that, I don't want anything anywhere."
When I started serving here, I realized that this theater has the genius of the place. And he chooses his own leaders. There were a lot of capable, good people around me. Young, daring. etc. But it so happened that I worked with the greatest people who did not pay attention to those capable people, but devoted time to me.
My creative life has become very rich, I have had a huge number of roles. As a result, my last name symbolizes both my profession and the place I serve. I'm the only one who's been so lucky, and I'm so happy about it.
"Haven't you ever been tempted to leave?"
— I was once, a long time ago. In the early 2000s. I was so harassed at my native theater that I came to Gergiev, who was then solely in charge of the Mariinsky Theater, with an application to transfer. And he said to me, "Kolya, why? You dance all the time anyway, and we invite you regularly. But at the mention of your last name, eight columns and a quadriga immediately appear in everyone's mind. Remember that. Few people are so lucky."
I was only about 30 years old at the time. I remember when I heard these words, I realized how lucky it was that the theater genius himself chose you to be the leader of the generation. You can imagine the huge number of people in the history of the Bolshoi Theater, who, unfortunately, were simply listed in it, despite the fact that they also sang, danced, and went on stage. And there are very few names that you mention — and you immediately remember their roles and you understand in what era it happened.
The Bolshoi Theatre is my home. It doesn't matter if I go in there or not. Even so: for me, the Bolshoi Theater is me in many ways. People come there who can be told my last name, and they will immediately say my first name. This is happiness. It was very lucky.
— You've really played a lot of roles. Which of the images has become a symbol of your personal Bolshoi Theater?
— I can't name one particular image as a symbol, but, of course, the Nutcracker in my performance and I are very connected. I was born on December 31, and for eighteen seasons I was the main performer of this play. In Yuri Grigorovich's 1966 production, he danced this role the most times in history. It's funny when adults come up to me now and say, "Mom brought us to your play when I was five years old." Back then, there were only two main performers — Yuri Klevtsov and me, and we danced almost non-stop.
December 31 has always been a special day at the Bolshoi Theatre. In the 90s, the public came to ordinary performances in whatever they could, but the entire diplomatic corps and members of the government gathered for the New Year. While Raisa Maximovna was alive, Mikhail Sergeevich Gorbachev always sat in the box with the whole family. And they always sent me gifts. The performance ended with the whole audience chanting: "Happy birthday!" It was amazing. I love the rest of the roles too, I really danced a lot.
"Where the stage ends at the Mariinsky Theatre, at the Bolshoi we only reach the center"
— Now you are the head of the Vaganova Academy. What could the Moscow school learn from the St. Petersburg school and vice versa?
— Absolutely nothing. These are just cities with different time frames and climates, which dictate their own rhythm of existence. Plus the size of the stage: the building of the Bolshoi Theater is twice the size of the Mariinsky. This dictates a different level of gesture and energy message — you need to cover a lot more space.
Galina Sergeevna Ulanova, in a conversation with Anna Dolevak, who later went into the book, described in detail how, after moving to Moscow in 1944, she redid all her roles. Space dictated everything: a different make-up, a different range of gesture. Where the stage is already ending at the Mariinsky Theatre, at the Bolshoi we are just reaching the center. Dancing in the Bolshoi Theater is the most difficult, it requires twice as much strength.
— You mentioned Galina Ulanova. What influence did the masters you worked with have on you?
— They had a huge impact on me, not only as an artist, but also as a person. These people raised me, they shaped my world. We talked about literature and theater; I was taught an understanding of what is good and what is bad. Unfortunately, there are almost no such great personalities left now, so the art itself looks different.
I remember how Galina Sergeevna and I were preparing a part in La Bayadere. Everything was great, the costumes were made, and there's a performance tomorrow. She comes and says, "Kolya, I thought it was too early. You should wait." And she took me out of the play for a whole year. She understood that she needed to mature. I had no resentment, no protest — if Ulanova said "wait", then we must wait. And when I came out in this role a year later, it was a triumph. Over the years, I have remained one of the main performers in this play. It is very important when you are shaped by such personalities.
Переведено сервисом «Яндекс Переводчик»