My ballets: "Macbeth"
Overseas Encounters with the Molchanovs
The ballet Macbeth, based on William Shakespeare’s tragedy, was first created at the Bolshoi Ballet by composer Kirill Molchanov, choreographer Vladimir Vasiliev, and set designer Valery Levental. As a young dancer, I was fortunate to participate in the staging and premiere performances of this ballet.
Later, during preparations for a tour in Italy, I was cast in one of the three main roles. It was an intriguing experience, especially since I had to quickly learn how to dance on pointe. Vasiliev, who assigned the roles of the witches to men, choreographed the entire part en pointe. With great enthusiasm, I mastered the female “pointe technique,” quickly learning to perform pirouettes decently, though I struggled to stop spinning after the turns. It was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. Although I didn’t perform the role in Italy and remained a standby, I danced this role numerous times later and grew to love it. Unfortunately, the quick transition to pointe work without proper preparation resulted in a serious injury that eventually required surgery. Despite this, I cherish the production in my artistic career and fondly remember the performances.
This production marked my first joint effort with Nikita Tkachuk, and his designs were remarkably innovative and daring. Semi-transparent stage wings made from clear plastic, intricately painted and illuminated from within, created a second world. Witches, prophecies, and visions appeared within these wings. Overhead, a large canopy made from the same material hung, shifting into various configurations throughout the performance, often dividing the stage. Its transparency allowed for multi-layered, parallel dance actions. One of our most extraordinary ideas was the use of gravestones. At the beginning of the performance, they were seen deep in the background, framed by the castle’s open gates. As the ballet progressed, they gradually moved closer until, by the end, they dominated the entire stage, closing in on the protagonist. The witches, a full ensemble, emerged from these tombs. I incorporated a witches’ sabbath into the performance, led by the three main witches. Even Macbeth himself joins their frantic dance. It is in this state that Lady Macbeth, now mentally unstable, finds him.
I recall the work on this production with a deep, reverent feeling. The men wielding daggers strode through the rehearsal hall, having grown beards like mine. The women hummed melodies from the ballet, continually bowing to one another in medieval fashion. It was a moment when the creative energy of the entire company was at its peak—a moment I will never forget. The premiere was an enormous success. The next morning (things happen quickly in America), a newspaper review appeared with the headline “A Brilliantly Twisted Macbeth.” The review sparkled with words of praise and admiration. The troupe was ecstatic. In December, regional critics summed up the year, and Macbeth was ranked number one among the top ten productions in Des Moines (the capital of Iowa), surpassing even the touring Broadway shows.
known television journalist Vladimir Molchanov. He and his wife flew in for the premiere and spent several days with us. These were wonderful conversations and moments. He enjoyed the performance, and our evenings together, discussing life and art, will remain in my memory. Vladimir and Consuelo are fascinating, intelligent people. Conversations with them give you a sense of life’s energy and, at the same time, an incredible sense of calm.
Though it was long ago, I still remember their warm smiles and the gentle rhythm of our talks.
Thus, far from Russia, in the heart of America, I reconnected with the music of Kirill Molchanov and with Vladimir Molchanov.
On their last evening with us, as Vladimir was preparing to leave for San Francisco to film a segment for his television show, he mentioned he had brought a white jacket for the shoot, but the weather in San Francisco had turned cold. I suggested that if it was sunny, the audience might not notice. He replied, “No, if it’s done professionally, they’ll notice. In a well-shot report, you can even smell the perfume.” I’ve never forgotten those words.
There’s an old superstition about Macbeth—that strange and dangerous things happen during its productions. It didn’t miss us either. Just before the performance, we were quietly going over the order of scene changes with the crew backstage. Suddenly, we heard a strange rustling. We paused. Silence. We continued talking, but the rustling returned, more ominous. Then it grew louder and louder, until there was a crash—the plastic backdrop had fallen onto the stage, torn from the top. We stood there, stunned, as the massive sheet lay across the stage like a snake. We never figured out how it happened, but with less than three hours to go, we had no time to dwell on it. I won’t describe the incredible work the stage crew did in those hours. During the performance, I kept nervously glancing at the backdrop. Everything went smoothly, but since then, any noise on stage makes me flinch, and my eyes instinctively check the backdrops above.
© Konstantin Uralsky