In many dimensions at once

The tour of “Evgeniy Panfilov’s Ballet” has ended

An excellent venue in the city center - the Maly Theater. But no advertising, not a single poster around the city; but even the programs were not released; before each performance, some lady, with the majesty of the host of a children's matinee, read out the names of the soloists and vague (sometimes, unfortunately, even poetic) explanations of the performances over the broadcast. And the canvas poster fluttering on the facade of the theater misrepresented the name of one of the one-act acts, and attributed the performance performed by one of the three theater troupes to another. The Perm theater of Evgeniy Panfilov, operating in a completely metropolitan capacity (there are no discounts “for the provinces”), turned out to be presented in Moscow in a hopelessly poor organizational framework.

And they work really great. When the creator of an author's theater dies (Panfilov died three and a half years ago, he was 46), the theater has little chance of remaining at the same level, especially the ballet theater. Everyone was looking forward to these tours with nervousness and apprehension: how is the troupe preserved? How does the repertoire hold up and remember? What's new in the repertoire? And the answers given by the Evgeniy Panfilov Ballet allow us to hope for a strong future for the Perm troupe. And you remember not the drama theaters that perished (if not organizationally, but artistically) following the departure of the leader, but the New York City Ballet, which quite happily exists on the Balanchine repertoire.

Nothing is lost in performance quality. Neither the synchronicity of the corps de ballet, nor the courage of the soloists, who easily perform risky acrobatic stunts. The repertoire remains the same - and still with the cheerful Panfilov cynicism it is divided into bright, catchy pop music intended for making money and complexly verified performances that do not give the audience any concessions.

Pop music works just as honestly, although Panfilov himself, it seems to me, laughed while composing “Polovtsian Dances” - with the conquerors of Rus', who are all hovering over the stage in black and gold, and the slits of their pants along the hips show significant parts of their asses, and with captive Russian girls who walk sadly in transparent light tunics and all of them in blond wigs. But next to this pop music is Panfilov’s last performance, “BlokAda” - uncomfortable, gloomy, with the aggression of Shostakovich and dusty - like letters dug up from the dust - recordings of songs from the war years. And so sincere that it takes one’s breath away. And next to it is the restored “Parrot Cage”.

It is important that it was restored and that the restoration was fully successful - Panfilov composed about a hundred performances during his life, and now this is the future bread of the theater. “The Cage,” a 1992 performance, combines the best features of Panfilov’s ballet. The choreographer was not satisfied with the flatness of the stage - and he created a performance in which part of the action takes place on the high perches of the cage. The two “parrots” living in it (Alexey Kolbin and Alexey Rastorguev) sit on these perches and hang from them in positions unimaginable for humans - and the choreography captures the heights, the third dimension. There are several “dimensions” in the plot of the play: “etude-imitative” joys (how the characters walk, perfectly waddling like a bird, how they peer into the world around them, characteristically moving along the border of their house), a gay love story, a general plot about the relationship between the artist and the public ("spectators" run around the cage, sit down on a nearby couch, and carefully watch the birds). “The Cage”, as a premiere, is nominated for the Golden Mask this year (therefore it will still be played on April 10) - and although the competition in modern dance this year is very severe (three more first-class performances), one can hope that the precision with which the artists reproduce Panfilov’s mockery, observation and melancholy fused into one performance will impress the jury.

Two performances made in the theater without Panfilov - “Tirbushon” by Alexei Rastorguev and “Mio, my poor Mio” by Sergei Raynik (the troupe’s premier has now become its artistic director), do not pretend to be great discoveries in dance, but clearly indicate the paths interesting for artists who have just started staging performances. Raynik explores the roles once given to Panfilov soloists and composes variations on themes. He himself in this performance, as always before, is a brutal sufferer with a heavy burden in his soul; gambling and heavy plastic. Alexey Kolbin - prince, surprised victim; fainting, dying, loss of strength. Raynik also lacks pure directorial skills - the play has several false endings, which creates fatigue in the text. Rastorguev copes better with purely directorial things in his performance, but his purely dance vocabulary is poorer. In his dance version of “Night Watch” (what else can you call a performance in which guys in black and guys in white frantically cling to each other in a fight, and their leaders bow ironically, and in the finale completely change their black and white suits?) he is more gave more attention to rhythm than to melody; however, several pieces are quite spectacular.

On the last day of the tour, some lady jumped onto the stage with poems of her own composition (they were terrible), and the producer of the tour, fuming with complacency, promised to bring the theater to Moscow more than once. Well, of course, this is such a good business - people will dance like in Europe, and you won’t even spend money on a proofreader for the poster. But Panfilov perceived Russian reality as it is. I didn't complain to anyone. The theater continues to live by its rules.

Anna GORDEEVA