Translated material
The fruits of enlightenment
A ballet about the ancient Slavic paradise was staged in Moscow
The theater, previously called the “Russian Chamber Ballet”, and which has recently acquired the name of its manager in the title (now “Ballet “Moscow” by Nikolai Basin”), released on the stage of the House of Music the premiere - an original production by its former dancer Elena Fokina " Belovodye".The performance is closed in a circle of chairs on which the actors sit mixed with the audience, which from the first second sets the entire necessary associative series of closed space, community, arena, place of execution and associated ethnic-sacral parallels with most productions similar to “The Rite of Spring” . The impression is enhanced by the fact that even before the start of the performance, in the center of the circle outlined in this way, a lonely girl wanders (“the chosen one” - I placed her in the usual coordinate system), either plaintively, or warily, glaring from under her brows at the spectators taking their seats. After a couple from the stalls is driven into the two remaining places in the circle, the circle closes and silence falls.
A moment later, under the industrial noise, other dancers begin to stick and push towards the lonely figure in the center, huddling into a single ball that spins meaninglessly around the stage, pushing and pulling individual bodies and body parts. This tense, silent commotion resembles either a flock of sheep or a crowd in a transport vehicle. Transport associations are strengthened by one character with carnations in his fist, who periodically raises them above their heads so as not to be crushed (however, this one will soon lose his “beacon” somewhere and become indistinguishable from others).
From time to time, individual phrases fly out of the tangle, which are most likely addressed to some expectations and aspirations of this community. However, it is not possible to make out individual voices, as in any crowd, and therefore they say either “There are mountains there” or “There are thieves there”... And all attempts to isolate the speaking lips unconditionally fail.
At some point, either under the influence of individual wills, or in spite of them, the ball falls apart into individual molecules-bodies, and they, deprived of the gravitational support of the community, begin to fall to the ground. Still, they do not fall, picked up by their fellow tribesmen, couples change, bodies twist, arms cross, but what is broken no longer sticks together. And the molecular bodies begin to take on an independent trajectory, micro-solos, micro-relationships flare up, lasting only a second to disappear forever. The community comes together to sip some soup, but immediately disperses again to their small chairs. The guys fight from time to time in mini-competitions and take off in groups and individually in shapeless jumps, among them there are even some daredevils capable of whole pieces of coherent text, they are torn, they are not allowed in by the mother hens. Life continues, but never takes shape either in the community or in individual existence, everything happens at a critical point, as if the bodies are making a last volitional effort to die forever.
The title of the play “Belovodye” tries to send the viewer to the paradise land from Old Slavic mythology, but Ms. Fokina, having paid tribute to the original idea with the lively sitch of timeless floor-length hems for the girls and shapeless trousers and shirts for the guys, unconditionally places them in the world of personal reflection, nurtured clearly on modern European soil. (The choreographer worked for six years in Belgium, in the troupe of Wim Vandekeybus.) This is greatly facilitated by the musical range of Ivo Vangerveen, combining industrial with guitar blues, creating the atmosphere of Jim Jarmusch’s “Dead Man” or the American films of Wim Wenders.
The action of the play develops through pulsating pain from the monotonous (as the everyday life of each of us is monotonous) unfolding of one state to a sharp change to another state. Ms. Fokina does not save stage time, giving the opportunity to enjoy each stage of the torment to the fullest, skillfully balancing on the brink of boredom. At the same time, the choreographer is no stranger to a sense of risk (for example, having covered the stage on which barefoot dancers are working with fragments of broken soup plates). The same feeling of generosity of gesture is created by working with the dancers, whom the choreographer either boldly piles up or pushes around the perimeter of the stage. And this redundancy sets the poetic sequence of the performance. And also hope for the formation of an individual choreographic language for the author. Let us note for ourselves - to follow further.