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Where there is no law, but every man does what is right in his own eyes, there is the least of real liberty
Henry M. Robert

How a Hooligan Can Fall in Love National Opera’s ballet premiere

13 November, 2012 - 00:00

All ballet lovers looked forward to Viktor Lytvynov’s production of “A Damsel and a Hooligan”: a lumpen street tough suddenly bursting into the romantic world of classical white swans and sylphs.

The setting is a street in a modern megalopolis swarming with local gangsters, hookers, casino patrons — in a word, a typical scene observed in front of the National Opera, among other places downtown. “Mammas and daddies, keep your girls indoors; I’m on the prowl for love.” This line from an old convict’s song could perhaps serve as an epigraph to the ballet. No, the new production does not poeticize the underworld. It is a poetic love story. Using ballet means, in the words of the Russian poet Sergei Yesenin, “...how a hooligan can love and be obedient like a lamb.”

The plot dates from the era of silent movies. In one, of the same title, the hooligan was played by author of the script, Russian revolutionary poet Vladimir Mayakovsky. He did not have think hard to come up with the story, because such episodes were a daily occurrence in the suburbs of Petrograd (as St. Petersburg was then officially known). The street tough Romeo theme, brilliantly impersonated by the poet, inspired Dmitry Shostakovich to write the ballet. He knew street life well (the topic is excellently treated in Aleksandr Blok’s poem “The Twelve”). That was how this Soviet Romeo and Juliet were born.

Choreographer Viktor Lytvynov, who has created on the Kyiv stage the wild patrician Tybalt (Romeo and Juliet, staged by Anatoly Shekera) and eccentric Prince Lemon (Cipollino by Henrik Maiorov), is keenly aware of the modern dance lexicon and strives to enrich it with new plastique expressions. Some of his experiments on the academic stage failed, but there is practically no other place for such experimentation in Kyiv.

The overture is probably meant to remind one of West Side Story. A clash between gang leaders. A veteran con (Dmytro Kliavin) and the Hooligan, a simple street tough (Anatoly Kozlov). It is sharp and brutal. Every movement denies graceful ballet law and contradicts the cantilena. It is a bar brawl, almost an all-in. The choreographer invented many unexpected positions and lifts to convey the force of the encounter. The Damsel’s performance is full of gymnastic stunts. Tetiana Borovyk dancing the part has a unique choreographic range. Ballet master Alla Rubina called her Joan of Arc on Kyiv Stage. The girl is not afraid of the elegant hooligan’s sexual encroachments, his vicious girlfriends or clowning and leaping “drudges.”

Lytvynov is a master of mob scenes. He builds the action inventively, brilliantly timing corps de ballet “invasions” and every extra is a separate polished image, rather than a mere dancing stage prop.

The casino scene is embellished by the waiters’ double number in which every pas emphasizes their servile nature. Or maybe they are just fooling around? The choreographer avoids a black-and-white approach. The top-class hooker (Iryna Brodska), attractive and vulgar, makes a grotesque duet with the underworld don. She is a typical back alley product, but seeing the Hooligan she is suddenly aflame with romantic passion.

The conflict climaxes when latter-day Tybalt (Dmytro Kliavin) rapes the Damsel. The Hooligan avenges her but pays with his life. This scene is especially expressive. Here the choreographer is strongly aided by production designer Mariya Levytska who is generally ill disposed to stage setting minimalism. The stage is suddenly bathed in scarlet light. People in the audience hold their breath sensing the tragic outcome. The Hooligan and his sweetheart dance their last adagio, the apotheosis of pure love doomed in this accursed world.

Street life continues in its usual vein. No one cares about anyone else, a striking resemblance to our daily reality. The girl stretches out her hands begging passersby for help. They just move on. The world is hostile and indifferent to love. This final episode is kept in a high emotional key. An act of mourning. An ordinary girl in the street is instantly transformed into almost a deity, for such is the magic power of true love.

Love and death. This theme is carried though the century, bringing forth new heroes capable of sacrifice, when doomed talent passionately struggles to reach the world’s highest goal, and the new production is a masterful portrayal of just such talent and sacrifice.

Photo by Oleksandr Putrov:

Dmytro Kliavyn makes criminality aesthetic

 

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