Delicate swans, pirouettes and Tchaikovsky’s evocative score could not be further removed from the cruel atrocities of war. Yet somehow, the United Ukrainian Ballet manages to fuse them to make a profound statement. There was an eager buzz in the packed audience in Sydney’s International Convention Centre. It knew how special it was to have this ballet company here, able to share their art, half a world away from where their families are anxiously battling the destruction of their way of life. The opening programme message said it all: “before the dancers of The United Ukrainian Ballet even step upon the stage today, they have triumphed”.
Their four act, three interval Swan Lake has been reimagined by Elena Glurjidze with the assistance of Sara Knight. The set switches between an exquisite palace dripping in lavish gold candelabras, and the deep blue hues of a mysterious, misty lake – home to the swan maidens cursed by the evil sorcerer. The Ukrainian dancers were wonderfully emotive, sharing great feeling and sense of breath through their movement, despite the inherent stiffness and control of ballet. It’s any wonder – given the emotion they are all feeling – after a catastrophic 2022.
Ekaterina Chebykina, cast as Odette and Odile, was a vision, with the most beautiful arms I have ever seen on a ballerina. They were mesmerising to watch, graceful yet winglike, at one point gently rippling like water as she left the stage. Her characterisation as Odile was excellent, seductive and playful, with a sly grin. Her daring backbends and 28 fouettés showcased her technical brilliance.
Galina Solovyeva's costuming is divine. Beautiful flowing headscarves of the eligible princesses in the kingdom, reminiscent of Princess Jasmine or an Emirates flight attendant. The tutus have a flounce around the edge, bobbing as the dancers jump, adding to the imagery of swans glimmering on the surface of the lake as they magically crisscross the stage in arabesque. The waltz through the ballroom of the Royal Palace is brought to life with Gladiator-like golden belts, bejewelled bodices, red scarves being whipped around in the wind of a spin, and a dazzling Queen.
Oleksii Kniazkov, though a troubled soul in search of love, was a powerfully strong, charismatic presence as Siegfried, gliding across the stage in continuous split leaps, and springing into the air with impressive double jump turns. Baron von Rothbart, played by Oleksiy Grishun was a haunting villain, striding across the stage with his chest puffed and a large feathered wingspan, cutting an imposing figure.
The company was formed just six months ago, under the artistic direction of Igone De Jongh, bringing together dancers from The National Opera of Ukraine, Kharkiv Opera Theatre, Odessa Ballet Theatre and Lviv Ballet Theatre. It’s even more remarkable the male dancers in the company were able to tour internationally, as men weren’t allowed to leave Ukraine without special permission when the war began. The government then recognised the importance of culture and the ability of a tour like this to mobilise and sustain support in the West, allowing male dancers to leave. These are dancers whose hard-fought professional careers could have been cut short in the face of devastating Russian aggression.
The unbreakable spirit of the dancers reverberated from the stage, performing a Russian ballet an act of defiance in itself (although the programme states that no nation can rightfully claim it as its own, as it “belongs to the eternal creative universe of time and space”). As explained by 20-year-old dancer Iryna Khutorianski, from Kyiv, “We want to show that Tchaikovsky is the heritage of the whole world. We don’t agree that Russians say it’s theirs... We’re battling for the territory and we’re battling for the piece of art.”
Draping their yellow and blue flags over their shoulders after the curtain calls, the company sang the Ukrainian national anthem. The audience was easily lifted to their feet in the deeply moving display of bravery, strength and vulnerability. Khutorianski explained the magnitude of the ability to connect with audiences in this way. “This is a big deal for us, especially now. We want to share a piece of our Ukrainian souls, so they can feel our feelings, not just pain.” The audience was left with nothing but pure admiration and speechlessness. The only words needed – those inscribed on a sign on stage – “Make dance, not war.”
