Didn't please anyone

An evening in honor of Maris Liepa was held at the Kremlin Palace

It would be nice, after all, for the organizers of regular evenings in honor of Maris Liepa to decide on the format - well, just decide for themselves what exactly they are doing. An evening of memories or a concert of stars. The fact that it is impossible to combine these genres was just proven by the evening at the Kremlin Palace.

If an evening of memories is being organized, then, of course, it is appropriate to show a documentary film collected from the rarest archival recordings. Old balletomanes watched it with pleasure. But if the evening is designed for them, then tickets cannot cost five thousand rubles; pensioners cannot afford such prices. And those spectators (the vast majority) who came to the concert not because of the name Maris Liepa on the poster, but because the names of Svetlana Zakharova, Roberto Bolle, Nikolai Tsiskaridze were also there, they at first politely tolerated the screening of the film, then they began to rustle and walk, and finally (an hour after the start) clap demonstratively. When the applause drowned out the sound, the film was interrupted. It seems that this was the only time that Maris Liepa was “clapped.”

The concert has begun. Svetlana Zakharova in Revelation (“Apocalypse”, but the title of the issue has not been translated) curled up into a ball, shot protesting vertical splits and froze on the edge of a fallen chair as if on the edge of the world - a clear feeling was created that there was an abyss in front of her, and not forty centimeters to the floor . The neat, crafty, completely “French” princess Aurora - Evgenia Obraztsova condescendingly allowed herself to be adored by the light-footed prince Désiré - Vladimir Shklyarov (a gallant prime minister who knows his worth is growing up at the Mariinsky Theater). Nikolai Tsiskaridze, who missed his Hermann, watched Ilze Liepa - the Countess with a dark, unwavering gaze, and the concentrated madness of the hero threw him into the air, into powerful jumps. And the soft, slightly lazy, cautiously attentive Roberto Bolle deftly unwrapped the harsh, predatory tenacious Greta Hodkinson on his hands and knees - in their performance, “The Little Death” by Jiri Kylian turned into a hymn to the harmony that arises between two unimaginably different people. The most unexpected guest was Ramon Thielen from the Harlem Ballet.

His number was called "Swan". Music - "Carmina Burana". Choreographer: Dennis Nahat, artistic director of the American Ballet of San Jose. And now, to the soundtrack of a natural Carl Orff, a black dancer in a loincloth leads his solo on a low pedestal. In the dance there is a combination of memories of “The Dying Swan” (as if the choreographer is laughing evilly and drunkenly crying at the same time over these memories), a tremor of fear and a desperate challenge to someone unknown. More precisely, who knows: four characters in monastic hoods appear three times from behind the scenes and rush at the “swan” with knives - the last time quite successfully, the dancer disappears behind the pedestal. What will be remembered, of course, is not the anecdotal choreography, but the incredible dedication of the dancer.

Because of the film (it was also shown during intermission), the end of the concert was scheduled for midnight, and people began to leave the Kremlin in large crowds without waiting for the finale. At the same time, some viewers asked at local kiosks whether this same film could be bought. No, it was not on sale. That is, the organizers failed to please anyone - neither the old guard of balletomanes, nor young curious concertgoers. Was the evening organized only for Ilze Liepa to appear on stage four times, and for Andris Liepa to launch his favorite laser show? May be. It is clear that their father, whose 70th birthday they celebrated in this way, would not be offended by them for this. But the public didn’t interest them.

Anna GORDEEVA