BALLET IN RUSSIA
"Crimson Sails." A New Soviet Production
Kuibishev, December 30th, 1942. WE went to the first night of Crimson Sails with more fears than hopes. We knew only that this new Soviet ballet had been in gestation a long time, that the libretto had been adapted from a story by Griniewski, and that the music was written by Yurovsky. Griniewski wrote the story under the pen-name of "A. Green," but is, in fact, a Russian writer of Polish origin, who claims kinship with Joseph Conrad. The dancers of the Moscow Grand Theatre, who were performing this ballet in Kuibishev are, of course, first-class classical dancers—just a bit better than the best we have seen in the west of late, and that is saying a great deal. It must be borne in mind that the main developments in what Western Europeans refer to as "Russian ballet," have taken place outside Russia—that the evolution of the formal rather stilted Tsarist ballet into the vital and spontaneous art of Diaghileff, Fokinc and Massine had only slight influence on the ballet that was actually being played in the Soviet Union.
Throughout the Revolution and the hard times that followed, the traditional ballet schools were kept open; there was, of course, a period of innovation and experiment, which did not leave a lasting mark, and was soon forsaken for a return to the old style—the frilly skirts and the pirouetting. Such developments as did take place were mainly in the realm of decor, where there was a great wave of elaborate representationalism--enormous back-cloths of trees that looked like trees, modelled castles, and live horses straining at the bit—a treat- ment which reminded one of Tree's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, where live rabbits scampered behind the footlights. Meanwhile in Western decor there were opposite tendencies—always the suggestion of a tree which made no pretence to look like a tree. And in choreography an ever-increasing freedom.
But sooner or later the traditional vigour and vitality which has been manifest in the ballet—as in all aspects of the life of the Soviet people—was bound to break free of the repertoire of popular favourites which, although performed with the highest classical technique, were for that very reason limited in execution and re- stricted in treatment. In Crimson Sails there is a new freedom In choreography which gives scope for the full expression of spirited spontaneity ; this new freedom may well be the beginning of an important development in the art which Russia has made her own.
The scene is in England—not modern England—but a land where men with heats of oak sail boats with crimson sails. There is a girl who dreams of such a ship and its gallant captain. And all her dreams come true. It needs a combination of all the arts to give choreographers a chance with such a theme. The decor is by Mr. P. B. Williams, a Russian whose name comes from an American grandfather. His combinations of vivid hues and the atmospheric effects of a seaport are in their way lovely beyond anything I have ever seen on the stage. The music by Yurovsky has some outstand- ingly good passages, and is always delightfully suited to the action. As for the dancers, I knew them to be supreme in the classical school, but since yesterday it is clear that they are not limited to their classical technique. Tikhomirnova, one of the younger of the Soviet prima ballerinas, danced the heroine with a freshness and sincerity which will greatly enhance her reputation; Preobraz- hensky was a sailor worthy of her dreams, while A. M. Messerer, who is one of the best contemporary Soviet dancers, gives one of his finest performances in this ballet.
The production by Samousud and Monachov was excellent. This gave the choreographers their chance. They have used classical steps where these were suited, and have given us some charming " variations " in the style of the Tschaikowsky ballet, but they have not hesitated to innovate. The new movements and rhythms they have found are nearly always expressive, and often very beautiful. For instance, the dance of the Hooligans in the first act was something new on the Soviet stage, and a " jig " danced with vigour by Galetskaya was an outstanding success. But the approach to the problems of choreography was so original, and the use of space on the stage so effective, that it would be wrong to single out any one thing. You might well ask who is the creative artist who designed these ageless dances, and has brought new beauty and additional strength to the Russian ballet. We are not told his name. The programme does not say—the dancers get publicity, but the choreographer is unnamed ; it is as if the play bills showed us who would sing the part of Zerlina, and none bothered who the composer was. But whoever composed this really great ballet will surely produce other and even lovelier works.
We shall watch with the greatest interest and impatience for his further work. It is characteristic of the resilient strength of the Soviet Union that, during this desperate struggle for her exist- ence, she has again contributed greatly to the art of ballet.