On June 16, 1961, the world was shocked by a sensation - the leading dancer of the Kirov Theater Rudolf Nureyev did not return from a tour from Paris to the USSR. Foreign newspapers were full of headlines: “Ballet star and drama at Le Bourget Airport,” “Leap to Freedom,” “A girl sees how the Russians are pursuing her friend.”

In June 1961, Rudolf Nureyev was on tour in Paris with the Kirov Theater troupe, but he was unexpectedly called to Moscow, allegedly to dance in the Kremlin. His millionaire friend Clara Saint came to see Nuriev off at the airport, came up to say goodbye, hugged her and whispered in his ear: “You should go up to those two policemen and say - I want to stay in France. They are waiting for you.” Suspecting something was wrong, state security officers began to push Nureyev back, but he broke free and made one of his famous jumps, landing right in the hands of the police with the words: “I want to be free.” Reporters called it a "leap to freedom."

“I made the decision because I had no other choice. And whatever the negative consequences of this step, I do not regret it,” Nureyev wrote in his autobiography. He really had no choice: the KGB had long suspected him of homosexuality, and in Paris evidence of this was presented. The then KGB chairman A. Shelepin, in particular, reported to the CPSU Central Committee: “On June 3 of this year, information was received from Paris that Rudolf Khamitovich Nuriev was violating the rules of conduct for Soviet citizens abroad, leaving alone for the city and returning to the hotel late at night. In addition, he established close relationships with French artists, among whom there were homosexuals. Despite preventive conversations held with him, Nuriev did not change his behavior..."

According to some reports, in Paris the KGB specially placed the famous dancer in a room with a certain Yuri Solovyov. His task was to confirm Nuriev’s unconventional inclinations, which Solovyov did. The great dancer was threatened with seven years in maximum security camps or work as a KGB informant.

Immediately after his escape, an open meeting of the Kirov Theater troupe was held, where the artists were forced to unanimously brand him as a “defector.” And in January 1962, an official trial of Rudolf Nureyev took place (in absentia, of course), at which he was sentenced as a traitor to the Motherland to seven years of forced labor and serving his term in a maximum security colony. For many years, he was harassed by anonymous threatening calls, especially often just before going on stage; his mother was forced to call her son and persuade him to return to his homeland.

Nuriev became one of the first Soviet men to admit his own gay orientation. Moreover, the love story of Rudolf Nureyev and Eric Brun is called one of the most passionate relationships. Eric Brun was an outstanding dancer who captivated Russian audiences during a tour of the American Ballet Theater in 1960. Nureyev was captivated by him, his manner, his elegance, the classicism of his art, his human qualities. Many noted that they were complete opposites each other. Nureyev is a passionate, frantic Tatar, almost a savage, and Brun is a calm, reasonable Scandinavian.

Nevertheless, the main love in Nuriev’s life was still dance. “I dance for my own pleasure,” he said. “If you try to please everyone, it’s not original.” Leap to Freedom gave him a unique opportunity to work with the Royal Ballet in London. For my creative life Nuriev managed to perform almost all the leading male roles in classical ballet.

Thanks to his passion for ballet, the role of the male partner became significant and equal to the role of the ballerina. For greater expressiveness, Nureyev appeared on stage in only tights and a dance bandage. He wanted to show not just dance, but all the beauty human body while driving. In the 20th century, a similar concept was perhaps embodied only by Vaslav Nijinsky and Isadora Duncan.

The then great Margot Fonteyn became his ally in his love of dance. But even she could not imagine that this tandem would remain in the history of ballet as one of the most brilliant. Each individual could not have achieved what they achieved together. When they met, Fontaine was 43 years old, and Nureyev was 24. “From the first second I realized that I had met a friend. It was the brightest moment in my life from the day I found myself in the West,” he later wrote.

The joint work of Fonteyn and Nuriev began in 1962 with the ballet “Giselle”. In 1963, the famous choreographer F. Ashton specially staged the ballet “Margaret and Armand” for them. After Swan Lake at the Vienna Opera in October 1964, they were called to the stage eighty-nine times. Stagehands had to pay extra wages because they could not dismantle the scenery and were delayed in the theater.

Their relationship was not just business. Nureyev managed to transfer all the passions of their dance into life. Years later, when Fontaine was dying of cancer, Nureyev, himself terminally ill, went to see her in Panama and supported her - morally, but not financially. Margot died in poverty, while Nureyev was the richest man in the ballet world. Vanity Fair estimated his fortune at $80 million.

Money and fame came to Nuriev quickly and helped free his frantic temperament. In the West, he could afford any behavior: he was forgiven for a lot. Once he contrived to give an interview to two competing publications on the same day - Time and Newsweek. Both wanted to publish long article-interviews about him. He decided that he couldn’t miss at least one interview, so on the day of the performance he attended two receptions at once, where he met with the press. The next day, both magazines published articles about him with a circulation of five million each.

No dancer would be forgiven for performing barefoot at a reception in the presence of the royal family in London. When he got hot, he calmly took off his shoes. Rudolf could be very rude to conductors, partners, producers, himself supporting and emphasizing the rumors spread about his terrible character.

Nureyev gave at least 200 performances a year in all corners of the world and never left the stage for more than two weeks. They said that he did not dance only in Antarctica. Traveling around the world, Nuriev was influenced by a variety of ballet schools - Danish, American, English - while remaining faithful to the Russian classical school. This was the essence of “Nuriev’s style”.

According to Otis Stewart, “the world undoubtedly knew dancers who were technically stronger and had perfect lines. But not one has yet appeared that even remotely resembles this thin wild Pan, who managed to debunk in the eyes of the public the usual prince, forever standing “in the wings,” and turn him into a star as bright and shining as only ballerinas were before him.”

Nureyev acted a lot in films and on television. In 1972, a dance film with his participation, “I am a dancer,” was released, and in 1977, Nuriev starred in the role of the famous Hollywood actor Valentino in the film of the same name directed by K. Russell. Many believed that Nureyev played himself in this film. Nureyev also turned out to be an equally talented director, having staged several classical ballets. From 1983 to 1989 he was director of the ballet troupe of the Paris Grand Opera.

Rudolf Nureyev was struck by a terrible disease - AIDS. It is believed that he became infected in the hospital. Allegedly, one day he recklessly crossed the road and was hit by a car. He was given a blood transfusion that was contaminated. Nuriev fought to the last, tried various new medicines, constantly communicated with people, gave lessons. He lived with AIDS for 12 years.

In 1976, a committee was created, consisting of famous cultural figures, which collected more than ten thousand signatures asking to give Rudolf Nureyev’s mother permission to leave the USSR. Forty-two US senators personally addressed the leaders of the Union, the UN interceded for Nuriev, but everything turned out to be useless. Only after Mikhail Gorbachev came to power in 1987 was Nuriev allowed to come to Ufa briefly to say goodbye to his dying mother, who by that time was no longer recognized by anyone.

Knowing that he was ill, Nuriev wanted to return to his native country. In 1989, he danced several performances on the stage of the Kirov Theater. However, the tour brought only disappointment to both Nuriev and those who so wanted to see him. The artist was already seriously ill and was plagued by injuries. He danced with great difficulty, overcoming physical pain. He returned again to France, where it all began.

In the summer of 1991, the disease began to progress. In the spring of next year, its final stage began. In those days, Nureyev was worried about only one thing: he wanted to stage “Romeo and Juliet” at all costs. And fate gave him such a chance. For some time, Nuriev felt better, and he staged the play.

He spent the last hundred days of his life in Paris. This city opened the way for Nureyev to the world of fame and wealth, but it also closed the doors behind him. According to the doctor who was next to Nureyev in the last moments of his life, the 54-year-old dancer died quietly, without suffering.

The great dancer is buried in the Russian cemetery of Saint-Genevieve des Bois near Paris, where many of our famous compatriots who left Russia at different times found their final refuge.

The material was prepared by the online editorswww.rian.ru based on information from RIA Novosti Agency and other sources

Rudolf Nureyev

Dance of a lifetime

Rumors that the Kirov Ballet was going on tour to Paris crawled around the theater. Nureyev did not believe that they would take him. Paris was a dream. It was the spring of 1961. The theater was preparing for a tour, they said that after Paris they would go to London. Everything was unclear. His beloved partner Alla Shelest was removed from the trip at the very last moment. In the Leningrad troupe he danced with Alla Sizova, Irina Kolpakova, Ninel Kurgapkina, Alla Osipenko, but Alla Shelest was his deity. With her he danced “Giselle” and “Laurencia”. The inaccessibility of her jeep and Laurencia's pride inspired his rare gift. He also danced Laurencia with Natalia Dudinskaya, the first ballerina of the Kirov Ballet. Nureyev valued craftsmanship great actress and was sensitive to her invaluable lessons, but he loved to dance with Alla Shelest; in the world of ballet she was called a great ballerina.

Natalia Dudinskaya was the wife of Sergeev, the first dancer of the Kirov Ballet. According to Nureyev, Sergeev did not like him. In any case, this is what he later wrote in his autobiography, which did not stop him from noting: “Both of them, Dudinskaya and Sergeev, were excellent dancers, but they were about fifty, and they had little chance of conquering the Parisian public.” They understood this and, in order not to take risks, prepared the young people for the tour.

Nureyev rehearsed Sergeev's and his own repertoire: Alberta in Giselle, Solora in La Bayadère, the title role in Don Quixote, the Blue Bird in The Sleeping Beauty, Andria in Taras Bulba. The amazing combination of lightness and strength, swiftness and refined style in his dance did not fit into the stereotype of a first-class dancer. Much was expected of him. The wonderful teacher Alexander Ivanovich Pushkin studied with him. Nureyev was his favorite student. Nureyev's zeal captivated Pushkin, as did his musicality. Before leaving for Paris, Rudolf practically lived with his teacher's family.

On May 11, 1961, the Kirov Ballet troupe flew to Paris, Nureyev never saw Alexander Ivanovich again, although he always remembered his cozy apartment in the courtyard of the Choreographic School. This was a home where he was loved.

Ten days later he first appeared on stage in Paris. Grand Opera: La Bayadère was on, Solor was his favorite part. His divine plasticity was immediately noted. “The Kirov Ballet has found its cosmonaut, his name is Rudolf Nureyev,” the newspapers wrote. Fans crowded around him. He became friends with Claire Mott and Attilio Labis - the "stars" of the French ballet instantly appreciated his rare gift - and especially with Clara Sainte, a ballet fan and one of the regulars backstage Grand Opera. It was she who was destined to play a special role in his fate. She was engaged to the son of the French Minister of Culture, Andre Malraux, and her connections in the highest spheres were immense. First of all, he took Klara to see his favorite ballet - “The Stone Flower” staged by Yuri Grigorovich; he himself was not involved in it. Grigorovich was not allowed into Paris, but Nureyev highly valued his talent as a choreographer.

He behaved freely, walked around the city, stayed late in restaurants on Saint-Michel, went alone to listen to Yehudi Menuhin (he played Bach at the Pleyel Hall) and did not take into account the rules within which Soviet dancers existed.

Rudolf Nureyev. Leningrad, 1950s.

Clara Saint was in trouble; Vincent Malraux, having gone to the South for several days, fell to his death in car accident. This brought her even closer to the Russian dancer. Having many acquaintances in Paris, Clara Saint was essentially a lonely person: she fled from Chile and with all her being understood the condition of Nureyev, a strange, unsociable young man originally from Bashkiria, who found himself in the center of attention of the Parisian secular crowd. Everything that happened at Paris Le Bourget airport on that distant day, June 17, 1961, was best described by Nureyev himself in his Autobiography: “I made a decision because I had no other choice. And whatever the negative consequences of this step, I do not regret it.” Newspapers vying with each other on the front pages gave loud headlines: “Star” of ballet and drama at Le Bourget Airport,” “Leap to Freedom,” “Girl Sees Russians Pursuing Her Friend.” This girl was Clara Saint, whom he called from the police station. She asked him not to come; Soviet agents were hanging around her house; they were easily recognizable by their identical raincoats and soft velor hats.

At first, Rudolph was placed in a house opposite the Luxembourg Gardens, in a Russian family. Friends visited him. Newspapers wrote that he "chose freedom" and detailed the events at the airport. If he had not been offered to fly to Moscow, nothing would have happened. They decided to punish him for behavior that was too free, from the point of view of those assigned to the artists. His things were packed and were in the luggage heading to London. The whole world now knows what came of it. It was necessary to start a new life.

Boris Lvov-Anokhin in the article “ Prodigal son Russian ballet" writes: "Having remained in Paris, he entered a completely new world of freedom for himself, into the world of dance, not limited by the framework of classicism and the political demands of the so-called " socialist realism" In fact, the “world of freedom” turned out to be surprisingly complex. Two detectives accompanied him everywhere. The daily routine was scheduled strictly minute by minute; they were afraid of actions from the Soviet secret services: class, rehearsals, lunch at a nearby restaurant and home.

The ballet troupe of the Marquis de Cuevas, which accepted him, instilled hope that he would dance whatever he wanted. But the situation in which he found himself only contributed to depression, Pushkin was not around, there were no classes to which he was accustomed, there was no familiar discipline that created the life of the body, without which it was impossible to become an ideal dance master. And he strived for this. Mediocrity and bad taste reigned here; there were few good dancers.

It turned out that he knew very little about Western life and Western ballet. It seemed to him that this world was magnificent, but now he was faced with reality: weak schools, handicraft performance. The young man became a skeptic. A six-month contract was immediately signed with the troupe of the Marquis de Cuevas. On June 23, six days after he stayed, he was already dancing the Blue Bird in The Sleeping Beauty. A month ago he danced it with the Kirov ballet troupe on the Paris stage Grand Opera. The next day he performed as the Prince in the same Sleeping Beauty. Nureyev's partner was Nina Vyrubova. It was a prologue to the future. He was becoming a citizen of the Western world, tearing himself away from what was behind. Here, in the troupe of the Marquis de Cuevas, everything was different.

There was no familiar atmosphere, no traditions that had previously made up his life. At times he was overcome by despair: had he made a mistake? The Soviet embassy sent him a telegram from his mother and two letters: one from his father, the other from Alexander Ivanovich Pushkin. Pushkin wrote to him that Paris is a decadent city, that if he remains in Europe, he will lose moral purity and, most importantly, the technical virtuosity of dance, that he must immediately return home, where no one can understand his actions. The father's letter was short: his son betrayed his homeland, and there is no justification for this. The mother’s telegram was even shorter: “Come home.”

Twenty-seven years will pass, and the world-famous Rudolf Nureyev will come to Ufa to say goodbye to his dying mother. Then, feeling it approaching own death, will go to Leningrad and dance “La Sylphide” on the stage of the Kirov Theater. It will be a new time, Leningrad will become St. Petersburg, the Kirov Theater will become the Mariinsky. The audience in the hall went crazy, but he could no longer dance, and the applause belonged to the past, to all his legendary life in the West, which began in that hot June 1961. In his Autobiography, Nureyev writes:

After the troubles in the troupe of the Marquis de Cuevas, I spent several days in the south of France and returned to hot, empty, beautiful Paris. In August I had to dance in Deauville, and before that life was uneventful. Only person The person I met during this time was the American photographer Richard Avedon, who left an indelible impression on himself. He invited me to his studio and took several portraits of me. When I saw them, I realized that I had found a true friend who felt my condition.

He danced in Deauville, in Biarritz on small stages in small theatres, flew to Frankfurt to perform on television and then went to Copenhagen to take lessons from Vera Volkova. In Frankfurt he was to dance Giselle and The Vision of a Rose in a program prepared by Swiss choreographer Vaslav Orlikowski, partner of Yvette Chauvire. At the studio they were convinced that he was familiar with the choreography of Fokine’s ballet, but he had never seen it.

The ballet, created by Fokine during the Russian Seasons at the Monte Carlo Theater in 1911, was seen in the Soviet Union only in 1964 during a tour of the Cuban National Ballet. Naturally, Nureyev found himself in a difficult position in the television studio. He was shown several photographs of Nijinsky and, with the help of friends who explained the order of movements, he danced “The Vision of a Rose.”

Vera Volkova previously lived in Russia, as a child she studied in the same class with Alexander Ivanovich Pushkin with Nikolai Gustavovich Legat (among his students were Fokin, Karsavina, Vaganova, Fyodor Lopukhov), and then studied with Vaganova. Rudolf needed Volkova, he suffered from dancing on small stages, he needed classes with those who knew the secrets of the Russian school of classical dance, and he asked the head of the Marquis de Cuevas troupe, Raimondo de Lorraine, to give him time off.

He was drawn to Copenhagen by his dream of meeting Erik Vroon, an outstanding dancer who captivated Russian audiences during a tour of the American Ballet Theater in 1960. Irina Kolpakova once admitted in a conversation that she had never seen such a perfect classical dancer as Eric Brun. Nureyev was captivated by him, his manner, his elegance, the classicism of his art, and his human qualities. Eric Brun was ten years older than Rudolf. Eric's photograph always stood on his desk. Even after the death of the famous Danish dancer, Nureyev never forgot him; he meant too much in his life.

During the American Ballet Theater's tour in Leningrad, Nureyev was in Germany, but he happened to watch a film with Brun's participation. Nureyev said that “Eric has reached the point where he can treat his body like a musical instrument. He was distinguished by a rare purity of dance and was never satisfied with himself, always in search of new means of expression.” For Nureyev, he turned out to be a faithful friend and assistant, especially at the beginning of his journey in the West.

Rudolf Nureyev and Eric Bruhn in a dance class, 1960s.

Classes with Vera Volkova disappointed him; apparently, she studied with Vaganova when the famous teacher was just developing the vocabulary of her system. For Rudolf, this was already a passed stage. He greatly appreciated the art of Dudinskaya, Kolpakova, Vaganova’s last student, with her he danced “Giselle” and followed the lessons of his partners and teachers. By nature, Nureyev had a long stride, soft expressive movement and rare flexibility. Pushkin helped him develop his jump and strengthen his coordination of movements. “Pushkin was a wonderful teacher,” said Nureyev. “He was able to penetrate deeply into the character of each of his students. Sensing their characteristics, he created for them combinations of movements designed to arouse in them a passionate desire to work. He always tried to pull out of us everything that was good in us, never concentrated attention only on our shortcomings, did not deprive us of faith in ourselves, did not encroach on our individuality, did not try to break them, subjugate or remake them. He respected our individuality, and this gave us the opportunity to add our own colors to the dance that reflected our inner lives. In the end, it is the artist’s personality that makes classical ballet alive and interesting.” To be honest, the classes with Volkova were far from what he had already used in his dance. But meeting her was useful. She was a kind and sympathetic person, and Rudolf later remembered her very warmly. At first, he really needed attention to himself. Rosella Hightower, the Bulgarian Sonya Arova, who became a famous English ballerina, and Eric Brun, the king of male dance in the West, took care of him in those years. Brun studied with him for a long time.

Friendship with Vera Volkova led him to meet Margot Fonteyn, her student. One day a phone call rang in Volkova’s apartment, Margot Fonteyn asked Rudolf to answer the phone and invited him to come to London to perform on November 2, 1961 at the Royal Theater in a gala concert. Margot Fonteyn had been president of the Royal Academy of Dance for several years and, since 1958, had organized a gala concert once a year. She dreamed of inviting Ulanova, but Galina Sergeevna in December 1960 last time appeared on the stage of the Bolshoi Theater in “Chopinian” and flatly refused Fontaine’s offer. Now Fontaine decided to invite Nureyev. He was flattered. Of course, he wanted to dance with her, but she had obligations to her former partner, the English dancer Michael Soames, and it was decided that Nureyev would dance a solo, choreographed especially for him by Frederick Ashton, and a pas de deux from the third act of Swan Lake "with Rosella Hightower.

He flew to London. I stayed at the Panamanian embassy - Margot Fonteyn's husband was the Panamanian ambassador to England. “From the first second I realized that I had met a friend. It was the brightest moment in my life from the day I found myself in the West,” he later wrote. London made a strong impression on him. He arrived under the false name of Roman Jasmine, fleeing the press. At the Royal Ballet School he introduced himself as a Polish dancer, but was quickly recognized. A reception was given in his honor at the Panamanian embassy. He seemed reserved, self-confident and quite charming. He looked like a boy, and he was 23 years old. The performance in London became a sensation. This was the beginning of his brilliant career. “The whole of London” was in the hall, all the experts. Frederick Ashton choreographed a solo for him to Scriabin's music. Nureyev impressed with his energy and sensuality. Scriabin was a greater success than the pas de deux from Swan Lake.

Margot Fonteyn was forty-two years old at this time. She once announced that she would leave the stage at thirty, but over the years this was forgotten. Now she was alarmed by her partner's problem. Michael Some left the stage, David Blair, whom she chose, was 29 years old. She was going to dance Giselle with him in February 1962. After consulting with her husband, she decided to offer Albert Nureyev’s role. Rudolph happily accepted this offer. The performance was supposed to take place on February 21.

Before this significant event, Rudolf needed to fulfill the obligations under the contract he signed with the troupe of the Marquis de Cuevas. He still danced in Cannes, went on tour to Israel, which reminded him, as he wrote in his Autobiography, of “southern Ukraine, it was warm and there were Russians everywhere, many of whom had arrived quite recently.” Then, in 1961, it was still difficult to imagine that emigration would take on a huge scale. He danced two, sometimes three times a week. The repertoire was small: The Sleeping Beauty and the third act of Swan Lake. He was annoyed that he had to dance in cabaret theaters located in the nightclub area. Israel was replaced by Germany. He danced in Hamburg, taking the time to go to Munich to see Erik Vroon dance the Prince for the first time in Swan Lake. He himself, while on tour in Germany, met on stage with the famous French ballerina Yvette Chauvire. They danced "Giselle". He remembered her from Russia; her “Dying Swan” was unforgettable.

Everything turned out so well that he had to dance with ballerinas much older than himself. Shovira was forty-three years old, Fontaine was forty-two, however, he was no stranger to it; he danced “Laurencia” with Dudinskaya when he was nineteen years old and she was forty-nine.

After “Giselle” with Chauvire, he went on tour to Italy: Turin, Genoa, Bologna. It was winter, it was cold and uncomfortable in Northern Italy, and he wanted to quickly leave the troupe of the Marquis de Cuevas. In Venice he performed with her for the last time. The city was dazzlingly beautiful, but covered in snow. He lived in a fairly average hotel, where there was no heating, and he had to sleep in clothes. The future seemed uncertain. Freed from his obligations, he became free. Friends formed a “union of four”: Eric Brun, Sonya Arova, Rosella Hightower and Rudolf Nureyev. The concert group rehearsed in England and began dancing in Cannes. Then we moved to Paris, and then Eric Brun injured his leg during a performance, and he had to fly to New York and dance the pas de deux from Bournonville's ballet "Flower Festival of Cinzano" with Maria Tachiff on television. Nureyev replaced him. He immediately learned the game and flew to the USA for the first time in his life. The journey from Ufa to New York, in fact, turned out to be quite short, less than six months had passed since he remained in the West, and so many countries and people had already changed. It was as if he was destined to be always on the go.

In New York he was introduced to Balanchine. In Russia, Nureyev saw his “Apollo” and “Theme and Variations,” which were brought by Alicia Alonso’s troupe. In Paris, he saw “Symphony in C Major” to the music of Wiese and “Night Shadow” to the music of Bellini. The performances made a strong impression on him, and now in New York he saw Agon and the early Apollo Musagete. He was at the mercy of Balanchine's art, he was amazed by the structure: the soloists alone with the empty stage space. No spectacular or decorative row. “Strict discipline of emotions” (expression by V. Gaevsky). Nureyev immediately felt that the choreographer was very confident in his ideas.

During his short visit to New York, he also met Jerome Robins, whose “Cage” to the music of Stravinsky and “New York Export Opus Jazz” touched him very much with its expression. He fell in love with New York, which seemed quiet and cozy to him. Skyscrapers and green neighborhoods nearby, quiet streets in lower Manhattan, gardens, squares, friendliness. He was sure that he would return here. He never wanted his life to flow along a once and for all established channel; the need to try, explore, search was strongly developed in him. He wanted to touch everything with his own hands; from childhood he wanted to determine his own path.

Then, in February 1962, the main performance was “Giselle”, which he had to dance with Margot Fonteyn. American critic Clive Warne in his book “Nureyev” writes:

Fonteyn was never an absolute success in Giselle. When she was 17, she was fragile but lacked artistic maturity. Now that she was getting older, this part was not very clear in her usual repertoire. On that famous evening of February 21, she was unexpected: deeply feeling, enthusiastic, more meaningful. There was a feeling that her career could start again with her new Russian partner.

Everyone understood that something extraordinary was happening, that the audience was present at the birth of a new ballet couple, which was destined to become a milestone in the world of ballet. Nureyev was immediately invited to join the Royal Ballet, which no dancer was given unless he was a citizen. British Empire. Ninette de Valois, the wisest director of the Royal Ballet, did everything to make the theater a home for the Russian dancer; unfortunately, she left this post in 1963. Nobility and lyrical restraint usually distinguished the dance of Margot Fonteyn. With Nureyev she experienced new feelings. She said: “When I dance with him, I don’t see Nureyev on stage, whom I know and with whom I communicate every day, I see a stage character, the character that Nureyev dances today.” All the feelings that were characteristic of Nureyev’s dance - gusts of sensuality, anger, despair, passion - contrasted sharply with Fonteyn’s manner, and her dance benefited from this. On the contrary, she instilled in him a taste and a desire for harmony. Their duet, known all over the world, breathed new energy into her, brought latent dormant forces to the surface, and gave him the opportunity to become the “first dancer” in the West. The “Iron Curtain” prevented the Western viewer from recognizing Chabukiani, Ermolaev, Messerer, Korny in the prime of their talent, now he became interested in Nureyev. Neither Vasiliev, who was essentially the “first dancer” of the Bolshoi Theater, nor Baryshnikov, who became the idol of America, had, when they danced, the fame that fell to Rudolf Nureyev. Today in any bookstore in the West you can see huge albums dedicated to Anna Pavlova, Vaslav Nijinsky, and Rudolf Nureyev. It all started in London in the winter of 1962.

The duet of Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev made both of them famous; after Swan Lake at the Vienna Opera in October 1964, they were called to the stage eighty-nine times. Stagehands had to pay extra wages because they could not dismantle the scenery and were delayed in the theater. Each one couldn't do it alone

would achieve what they achieved together. On stage, their duet was dynamite, exploding the auditorium. Anna Pavlova is a symbol of ballet, Caruso is a symbol of a tenor singer. Fontaine and Nureyev became "stars" in their own right, having achieved success through their work and talent, but, unlike their great predecessors, they were also the darlings of the "cafe world", the crowd of those rich enough to spend time in the "high life". The press compared their names to those of Frank Sinatra and Brigitte Bardot.

But victories were not easy for Nureyev. Entering into a contract with Covent Garden, he secured the right to dance not only with the Royal Ballet troupe. In March 1962, he made his debut on the American stage. With Maria Tallchiff he danced in the USA for the first time on television, now he had to dance the pas de deux from the ballet “Don Quixote” on the stage of the Brooklyn Academy of Music with Sonya Arova. It wasn't a big success. Critics reacted very coolly to his performance. New York did not come without a struggle. The fact that he jumped over the barrier at the Paris airport is not yet a reason to capture the attention of the New York public, so the press wrote. But the curiosity about him was great, his whole behind-the-scenes life aroused insane interest. He becomes a regular guest on gossip columns, with someone calling him “the first pop star of the ballet world.” His love for the talent of Eric Brun acquired a scandalous hue. They were indeed very close in those years.

A boy from Ufa demonstrated to the Western world a dance style that was unusual for the West. Nureyev accepted ballet novelty with amazing ease, but strict classical dance was absolutely in his power.

The School of Russian Ballet, its achievements were obvious. Nature endowed Nureyev with a remarkable mind; very quickly he began to understand the laws of Western life. I knew who should be given an interview and when, and who shouldn’t be given one. Two years after he “chose freedom,” he had already gotten the hang of answering the questions magazines asked him in different ways. Time And Newsweek. Both wanted to publish long article-interviews about him. He understood that if he gave an interview to one magazine, the other would refuse, so he managed to attend two receptions on the same day, the day of the performance, meet with the press at both, and the so-called “burn covers” about him appeared simultaneously in two magazines with a circulation of five million each. The sensation was great. The name Nureyev entered the zone of mass consciousness; it no longer belonged only to the world of ballet. Clive Barnes, a famous American ballet critic, wrote that it is unlikely that anyone knows the art of communicating with the press better than Nureyev.

There were also scandals associated with him; they are known to include constituent element into the concept denoted by the word “star”. In 1965, news spread throughout the Western world that at a reception in Spoleto, Nureyev threw a glass of wine and splashed it on a white wall. Some magazines wrote that it was not wine, but whiskey, the glass of which he threw on the floor in irritation, others described in detail how the wall was flooded. In fact, eyewitnesses said that Nureyev accidentally dropped his glass. Once, at a reception in the presence of the royal family in London, he danced solo, his shoes pinched him, he calmly kicked them off and continued dancing barefoot. No dancer could afford this. He could be very rude to conductors, partners, producers, himself supporting and emphasizing the rumors spread about his terrible character. But he worked like an ox, and no one in ballet could compare with his ability to work and professional discipline. He studied for hours in class, in the rehearsal hall, working tirelessly even after the performance.

Rudolf Nureyev at the Martini party, 1965

Nureyev died on January 6, 1993, France buried him. The funeral ceremony lasted one hour. Soloists Grand Opera They carried the coffin up the stairs and placed it on the upper platform. Nureyev lay in a coffin in an evening suit and a turban. During the civil funeral service in the building Grand Opera they played Bach, Tchaikovsky, the artists read Pushkin, Byron, Goethe, Rimbaud, Michelangelo in five languages ​​- such was his dying will. Pierre Berger, French multimillionaire and owner of the Yves Saint Laurent firm, for a short time former director Paris Opera, said farewell words. Rudolf Nureyev was buried near Paris, in the Russian cemetery of Saint-Genevieve des Bois. I lived in the West for thirty-two years. Over the years, he has been unconditionally recognized by the world, ballet, theater, and the masses. His fame, unique in its kind, eclipsing other names, after his death turned his life into a legend.

When he stayed at Le Bourget airport in 1961, he was still far from maturity. Over the years he became a ballet director, choreographer, ballet director Opera Gamer. His career was on the rise. When they write that he came to the West to seek his destiny, they only distort reality. An incident that happened to him at the stupid will of those who stood behind the Kirov Ballet pushed him to what he unconsciously strived for - improvement. Already a famous dancer, he spent a lot of money on mastery lessons and studied either with Valentina Pereyaslavets or with Stanley Williams in New York. He managed to be acquainted with all the celebrities, members of royal houses, to be known as a bon vivant, a nightclub lover, a gambler, a sybarite, and at the same time, without missing a day, he stood at the machine, perfecting what gave on stage a feeling of incomparable artistic freedom. He had a strange eating regime: he loved steak and sweet tea with lemon and ate more like an athlete than a gourmet. There were much more rumors about him than knowledge of his true life. He had few friends, but those who did have his confidence, although by nature he was a distrustful person. They said that he was capricious, and little thought was given to how he mercilessly wastes himself. Leopold Stokowski and Jean Marais, Maurice Chevalier and Maria Callas were fond of him; it was impossible to attend performances with his participation, but he still worked, paying tribute to “high life,” because he was not interested in anything except dance.

Rudolf Nureyev and Margot Fonteyn.

Francoise Sagan, in her short essay about Nureyev, wrote that his home was a stage and an airplane, that he was a sad, lonely man who gradually lost the few friends he had.

November 27, 1963 at Covent Garden in London he danced “La Bayadère”, not in its entirety, but only the third act – “Shadows”. Choreography by Petipa, in his own edition. Solor is his best game. Furious temperament and decorative imposingness, pride and touches of oriental melancholy - everything came together in this role. Triumph in Covent Garden paved the next stage in his brilliant career. He performed in this performance not only as a dancer, he was its tutor and director.

The legend picked up the pace. Now he needed to test himself on other stages before performing in London and Paris. He flew to Vienna, Australia, danced there with his troupe, and then performed at famous venues. If Balanchine staged “Raymonda” or “Swan Lake,” then the program said: “Balanchine’s production.” When Nureyev staged Petipa’s ballets, the program read: “Petipa, Nureyev’s edition.”

With all the respect Nureyev had for Balanchine, the question of joining Balanchine’s troupe or participating in his performances as a guest performer never even arose. Only in 1979 did Balanchine stage a ballet especially for him - “The Bourgeois in the Nobility” to the music of Richard Strauss. In Paris and London, Nureyev included in his repertoire “The Prodigal Son”, “Agon” and “Apollo” staged by Balanchine. In the West today they like to compare Balanchine and Nureyev. Both graduated from the same choreographic school, both danced on the stage of the Mariinsky Theater, both ended up in the West. There is only one difference: Balanchine was a great choreographer and a rather weak dancer. Nureyev was a great dancer and a rather weak choreographer. He made his first attempt to prove himself as a choreographer in 1966 in Vienna, staging the ballet “Tancred” to the music of Hans Werner Henze. Critics wrote about “pretentious symbolism,” although some independent ideas were palpable in it. Ten years later, Nureyev staged his own version of Romeo and Juliet to music by Prokofiev, and in 1979, Manfred. But, as often happens, his desire to become a choreographer did not have the same success as his performances as a dancer. Two different professions, which is difficult for great ballet masters to admit, who do not know what to do with themselves when their short dance life ends.

Nureyev was an outstanding classical dancer, the incomparable Siegfried in Swan Lake and Albert in Giselle, but the intriguing novelty of modern ballet attracted him. He himself admitted: “It was difficult for me to master the principles of modern dance. Classical parts are the most difficult; you always have to think about tradition, about how they were danced before you. But modern dance does not have such firm canons, they have not yet been defined, and in this sense it is easier for the performer.”

He arrived in America just as modern ballet began to penetrate the repertoire of classical ballet companies. Paul Taylor, for example, staged Halo to Handel's music for the Royal Danish Ballet in 1968, something that would have been absolutely impossible in the early 60s. Halo is the first American modern ballet, which Nureyev danced with Paul Taylor's company in Mexico and London. Glen Tetley staged “Tristan” and “Labyrinth” to music by Berio especially for Nureyev. "Pierrot Lunaire" - Tetley's famous ballet to the music of Schoenberg - Nureyev always danced with great success. He learned José Limón's "The Moor's Pavane" and studied with Martha Graham. I took lessons from her and repeated every movement like a student. Martha Graham choreographed “Lucifer” especially for him (Margot Fonteyn danced with him) and “Letters to Scarlett,” which he danced without her. Martha Graham said about him: “Nureyev feels everything so subtly, embodies it so accurately that, looking at him, it seems to me as if I were dancing myself. He is a brilliant dancer, but there is something else in him besides this - only his inherent individuality. That’s why no one can repeat any of his roles.”

With Martha Graham's troupe he danced the ballets Night Journey, Clytemnestra, and Equatorial. There was a period when he became addicted to dancing modern ballet. Murray Louis staged three ballets for him and for him: “The Moment”, “Vivache” and “Venus of the Canaries”. The more he grew up, the more he wanted to dance. His dream was to dance six to seven times a week; he was ready to lead “full-length” ballets, and not just dance one-act ones, which is very common in the West. His manager Serge Gorlinsky organized tours with the Australian Ballet, the National Ballet of Canada, and the London Ballet Festival, and Nureyev danced almost every evening with different partners. From the outside it looked like a “star” on tour surrounded by a troupe supporting the celebrity’s dance. All this gave rise to countless rumors. But he couldn't help but dance.

Gorlinsky sometimes organized “Nureyev and Friends” evenings; the programs were varied; Nureyev showed them in London, Washington, New York, and Paris. Very few dancers in this world are able to attract crowds of spectators. Clive Warne in his book “Nureyev” writes: “The name of Maya Plisetskaya ensures sold-out crowds in Paris and New York, but in London she is not considered a “big star.” During these years, Nureyev was at the peak of his popularity not only in New York, but in all cities of the world. Every summer since 1976, Nureyev danced in a huge hall Coliseum Theater in London for a few weeks. It was impossible to get tickets."

His thirst to dance was boundless, many wondered: why? Not a single dancer in the world danced as much as he did, the meaning of his life was dance, the stage was his home. He earned astronomical money, became very rich, apartments in Paris, New York, Monte Carlo, an island in the Mediterranean Sea, collections of paintings, porcelain, sculptures. Everything was earned with my feet. Of course, one can assume that, like all people who were born in poverty and spent their youth in poverty, he sought, as it were, to compensate for what did not exist. But it was not wealth that attracted him to the stage, it was not wealth that made him dance every evening. His movement was fraught with beauty and mystery, his temperament was exciting, his dance worked visible miracles, and the world applauded him. Nureyev knew that the dancer's life was too short, and he rushed Time. Life was interesting for him when he danced. This was the solution to his riddle. He was a truly romantic dancer, trained in Leningrad, in the Kirov Ballet, where after graduating from college he immediately became a soloist and took a leading position in the theater.

The time when he came on stage gave the world Vladimir Vasiliev, Yuri Solovyov, Eric Brun, Peter Martins, Edward Villela Jorge Donna, Mikhail Baryshnikov, Anthony Dowell. But Nureyev is sharply different from them. And it was not by chance that he became a legend of ballet, its myth, in the second half of the 20th century.

He was born in a train carriage that traveled along Lake Baikal on March 17, 1938. His father was a Tatar. He looked like a Tatar, oriental blood fueled his temperament. As a child, no one was involved in his upbringing, he was impolite and did not understand the subtleties of behavior. He had three sisters. In his youth, he was friends with his sister Rosa, in the late 1980s she came to him in Paris, he gave her his villa in Monte Carlo, then they quarreled. After his death, she sued the foundation named after him for his inheritance. An ordinary, trivial story. His first teacher in Ufa, where he lived as a child, was Anna Ivanovna Udaltsova. At seventeen he came to Leningrad. The director of the Choreographic School did not like him, but he ended up in Pushkin’s class and quickly began to master the skill of classical dance. In Leningrad he became famous. Admirers flocked to his performances. The future was his. He had no intentions of leaving for the West. Of course, he wanted to see the world, was glad to go to Egypt with the Kirov Ballet and perceived Paris as a gift of fate. Stupid policies, blurred by communist ideology and the mediocrity of those who implemented them, provoked what happened at Le Bourget airport. He did not forget Russia. His “Autobiography,” written or spoken by him in 1962 (it was published in England), is full of love for Leningrad. At the end of his life, already very sick and approaching death, he came to his homeland. I was in Ufa, in Leningrad (now St. Petersburg), danced on the stage of the Mariinsky Theater, and came more than once. Shortly before his end, he stood at the conductor's stand in Kazan, was passing through Moscow, but went to Paris to die. He didn’t want to return to Russia; more than thirty years of living in the West made him a “man of the world.” Although Russia always attracted him, and he always remembered the nature of his success: traditions and the Russian school.

Rudolf Nureyev and Mikhail Baryshnikov.

Even in the years when every trip abroad was an event, the prima ballerina of the Azerbaijani ballet, in those years its artistic director Gamer Almas-zade, told how, having arrived with the Baku Ballet troupe in Monte Carlo, she immediately met Nureyev, who had specially come to see their performances and see her. They knew each other from Leningrad; he, one of the few, knew that Gamar Almas-zade was Tatar by origin.

He met with Vasiliev, Maksimova, Plisetskaya, Grigorovich; the choreographer’s personal archive contains a lot rare photographs Nureyev during their meetings in the West in those years when this was strictly prohibited. Nureyev was a difficult man, nervous, capricious; his partners had a hard time with him, and he had a hard time with them. He quickly forgot his grievances, but they did not. Although those who knew him closely claim that he was a very shy person. It’s just that he was always at the mercy of creative impulses, and at that moment he was inaccessible to everyday life, and when he was pestered, he became irritable and rude.

The years of his partnership with Margot Fonteyn are the zenith of his career. His dance was full of psychological details. He danced Princes as people with a romantic imagination. Only Galina Ulanova could dance the female parts in ballet; he always admired her, and wherever she stayed when she came to the West, there were always flowers sent by him in her hotel room. Even in those years when it was strictly forbidden to communicate with him, he found an opportunity to let Ulanova know that the flowers were from him.

“Raymonda”, “Sleeping Beauty”, “Swan Lake”, “La Bayadère” - a celebration of classical dance when Nureyev danced. He constantly created his own versions, found new interpretations, the Kirov ballet did not let him go, it remained in his memory. Dance was above all else for him.

In his personal life, he was often tired, irritated and lonely, although some young people, old ladies, and countless admirers always crowded around him. English language he learned and spoke relatively fluently, but with a strong Russian accent. He also had strong friendships with people, he valued them, but after the death of Margot Fonteyn, and especially Eric Brun, only the stage awakened him. The years were catching up. In 1982, he was already forty-four years old, and rumors spread that he had become worse at dancing. But the magic remained. In the West they don’t teach ballet dancers acting skills; Nureyev was familiar with Stanislavsky’s school. As a brilliantly gifted person, he gradually moved to roles in which acting skills were important. He loved to study. Eric Brun was a famous performer of Bournonville’s choreography, he was magnificent in the ballet “A Folk Tale”, he performed in a role in which there was no dancing, but he amazed with the precision of gestures, a manner that created the image of a certain folk hero, which embodied the spirit of Andersen's fairy tales. When Nureyev danced La Sylphide in New York with the National Ballet of Canada, critics noted the influence of Eric Brun, although Nureyev was too temperamental for Bournonville's choreography, it was not his choreographer. But the romanticism of the party persisted. He danced La Sylphide in 1973. Now, nine years later, he tried to appear on stage in roles where he could demonstrate artistic skill.

Carla Fracci and Rudolf Nureyev in the ballet “The Nutcracker”, La Scala, 1970-71.

Was behind great life on the ballet stage. Why didn't he dance? "Antigone" staged by John Cranko, MacMillan's ballet "Entertainments" to the music of Britten, "Symphonic Variations" and "Marguerite and Armand" - ballets by Frederick Ashton. Liszt's music, on which Ashton set Marguerite and Armand, inspired Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev; the parts were woven from acute, confused feelings and fabulous beauty of duets. The costumes for this ballet and the set design were done by Cecil Beaton. Not a single performance that Nureyev danced with Margot Fonteyn was as successful as this romantic ballet. The dancer spent a lot of effort on “The Bourgeois in the Nobility.” The ballet was staged by Balanchine to the music of Richard Strauss, but during rehearsals Balanchine fell ill, and Nureyev continued to work with Jerome Robbins. Then Balanchine returned to work and completed the ballet himself, which had always interested him. In 1932, he created the first version with Tamara Tumanova and David Lishin in the René Blum troupe in Monte Carlo, based on a libretto by Boris Kokhno. In 1944, Balanchine again staged “The Tradesman in the Nobility” in the USA, and now, in 1979, based on the old libretto by Kokhno, he staged it for Nureyev. The premiere took place on April 8 with Patricia McBride.

Nureyev worked with Bejart, Roland Petit. He danced Bejart's duet “Songs of a Wanderer” to the music of Mahler in Brussels in 1971 with the famous Italian. Nureyev embodied the seeking spirit, one was in white, the other in black tights. During the same period, Nureyev danced “The Rite of Spring” with Bejart. They were friends with Roland Petit, quarreled, and worked. Petya's wife Zizi Jeanmer, a famous ballerina who had already finished dancing, was a friend of Nureyev. From the memoirs of Roland Petit:

Spring 1989. Dinner at Nureyev's after the performance of a scene from "The Cathedral" Notre Dame of Paris"at the Grand Opera. The wax from the candles on the Russian copper chandelier falls drop by drop into the plates and hardens like pearls on the oysters we eat. A political conversation about the career of the dancer Rasputin and whether it is possible to retain the position of director of Opera Gamier. I advise him not to remain between two stools, between the Opera and Broadway. The atmosphere is warm and friendly. We are surrounded by paintings of all sizes, from all eras, depicting Neptunes, Icaruses, and other mythological heroes, naked and exciting. When lunch comes to an end, we blow out the remaining candles and go into the living room to drink coffee with herbal infusions. Rudolph dresses in an oriental peignoir, takes off his shoes, and while the guests do not dare to talk about anything else except the owner of the house, he, stretched out on the sofa in a languid pose, massages his feet, at the same time dialing telephone numbers from all four parts of the world, to find out about the status of your affairs. The 1980s were mainly given to the Parisian Grand Opera.

Becoming a leader Opera Gamer, he raised the level of the troupe, created a first-class corps de ballet, staged many performances, prestige Opera Gamer under Nureyev it became very large. Naturally, they called him a dictator, a tyrant, and did not forgive him for his harsh behavior. Sylvia Guillem left the troupe and went to work in London. It was later, after Nureyev’s death, that she would say that working with him was best time her life, and that she highly appreciates his gift as a leader. Scandals flared around him. But he staged his last performance on stage Opera Gamer. It was his favorite “La Bayadère”. To be precise, the performance was practically staged by Ninel Kurgapkina, who once danced with him in Leningrad in Don Quixote and now came from Russia at his request to work on the performance. Sometimes he came to rehearsals, or rather, he was brought on a stretcher. At the premiere he was supported by two dancers. He could hardly walk anymore. The stage was buried in flowers, and he looked at the raging auditorium, half-lidding his eyes.

A year before his death, he tried to change his profession. Karajan once advised him to stand at the conductor's stand. His natural musicality was extraordinary. He began to study, he received a lot of help from Vladimir Weiss, who worked at the Bolshoi Theater, and then, on Nureyev’s recommendation, in Australia. Nureyev quickly learned the laws of his new profession. He conducted in Vienna, Athens, and flew to Kazan in March 1992 and was very pleased with the concert. On May 6, 1992, he stood at the controls in Metropolitan Opera, conducted the ballet Romeo and Juliet. I was very worried. He danced here many times. In 1980, with the Berlin Ballet troupe, he had enormous success in “The Nutcracker” and at the same time showed his Prince Myshkin in “The Idiot” after Dostoevsky, the ballet was staged by Valery Panov. Now he conducted Romeo and Juliet, the most significant version of this ballet was created by him for the first time in London in 1977, and then in Milan, in La Scala in 1981. In 1983 he became the head Opera Gamer, According to his passport, he was a citizen of Austria. Now that was over too. He conducted and understood that there were friends and admirers in the audience, it was a great success, and the next day Anna Kisselgoff, a regular ballet columnist for the most influential newspaper The New York Times published a review, finding kind words, from which it was clear that his conducting was not an event. At the end of May 1992, he once again flew to Vienna and conducted a concert consisting of arias by Mozart and Rossini.

A terrible disease, it is called the plague of the 20th century, was taking its toll. There was no more strength. On the eve of his fortieth birthday - he was still dancing - he admitted: “I understand that I’m getting old, you can’t get away from it. I think about it all the time, I hear the clock ticking my time on stage, and I often say to myself: you only have a little time left...” Now he no longer danced. He no longer conducted. He was dying. Everyone knew he was sick. He lived Lately only the support of the public, ready to applaud him as soon as he appeared on stage, no matter what he did. From the memoirs of Roland Petit:

Still, I advise him to conserve his strength. “I myself wanted my life to turn out this way,” he answers. Looking very deeply into his eyes, I try to ask him a provocative question: “But you will die on stage?” “And I would like this most of all,” he answers, squeezing my hand. Voice<…>breaks mid-sentence, and I clench my fingers so as not to show all the sadness that covers me.

From the book How Idols Left. Last days and watches of people's favorites author Razzakov Fedor

NURIEV RUDOLF NURIEV RUDOLF (ballet dancer; died on November 20, 1992 at the age of 54). Nureyev died from the plague of the twentieth century - AIDS. The disease was discovered in the great dancer at the end of 1984. Nuriev himself came to see the young Parisian doctor Michel Canesi, with whom he

From the book Memory That Warms Hearts author Razzakov Fedor

NURIEV Rudolf NURIEV Rudolf (ballet dancer; died on November 20, 1992 at the age of 54). Nureyev died from the plague of the twentieth century - AIDS. The disease was discovered in the great dancer at the end of 1984. Nuriev himself came to see the young Parisian doctor Michel Canesi, with whom he

From the book 100 great originals and eccentrics author Balandin Rudolf Konstantinovich

Rudolf Steiner Rudolf Steiner Rudolf Steiner (1861–1925) is another famous occultist, German philosopher and mystic. He founded anthroposophy (translated from Greek as “human wisdom”) - a teaching that places man at the center of knowledge. Without giving up science, he

From the book My Troubled Life by Adamson Joy

Lake Rudolph In 1955, when Governor Baring was leaving Kenya, I was asked to make a large, colorful map for him. Baring expressed his intention to make a trip to Lake Rudolph, and George was asked to accompany him, help prepare the fishing gear needed

From the book by Marlene Dietrich author Nadezhdin Nikolay Yakovlevich

9. Rudolf Sieber In 1920, Marlene (we will call her that - she refused the name Maria Magdalena herself) met the young film director Rudolf Sieber. This nondescript and inconspicuous man became the first and only official husband of Marlene Dietrich. More

From the book Palace intrigues and political adventures. Notes of Maria Kleinmichel author Osin Vladimir M.

Archduke Rudolf On one of my trips to Rome, I stayed for a couple of hours in Warsaw in the house of the Marquis Sigismund of Wielopolsky, who invited me to dinner. His wife, née Montenuovo, was the granddaughter of Marie Louise, wife of Napoleon I, from her second marriage to Count Napier,

From the book Smersh vs Abwehr. Secret operations and legendary intelligence officers author Zhmakin Maxim

From the book Great Love Stories. 100 stories about great feeling author Mudrova Irina Anatolyevna

Rudolf and Maria Evenings Crown Prince Rudolf was the only son of the Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph I and Empress Elisabeth, heir to the throne of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. He was born in 1858. From his youth he was distinguished by his independence and liberal views, he wanted

From the book Great Men of the 20th Century author Vulf Vitaly Yakovlevich

Rudolf Nureyev Dance of a Lifetime Rumors that the Kirov Ballet was going on tour to Paris were creeping around the theater. Nureyev did not believe that they would take him. Paris was a dream. It was the spring of 1961. The theater was preparing for a tour, they said that after Paris they would go to London.

From the book 100 Famous Americans author Tabolkin Dmitry Vladimirovich

VALENTINO RUDOLF Real name - Rodolfo Guglielmi d'Antonguolla di Valentino (born in 1895 - died in 1926) Famous film actor, Italian by birth. “Star” of silent cinema, creator of the “exotic hero-lover” type in 15 films. Author of the lyrical

From the book Generals civil war author Golubov Sergey Nikolaevich

M. Palant RUDOLF SIEVERS “This comrade with big, intelligent eyes, possessing colossal willpower, courage and calmness, continued to fight on many fronts against the enemies of the working people. It was a favorite of the Red Guards, and later of the Red Army soldiers... This

From the book Memoirs of Rudolf Steiner and the construction of the first Goetheanum author Turgeneva Anna Alekseevna

Rudolf Steiner in Cologne The small hotel "St. Paul" was then located exactly opposite the cathedral. Cologne Cathedral is not one of the most beautiful Gothic churches; nevertheless, it had a unique charm - and not only because of its enormity, but

From the book Service foreign intelligence. History, people, facts author Antonov Vladimir Sergeevich

From the book Eurythmy Work with Rudolf Steiner author Kiseleva Tatyana Vasilievna

From the book by Rudolf Nureyev. I will die a demigod! author Oboymina Elena

Rudolf Steiner as an actor The scene "Faust's Flight to Heaven" was preceded by the scene "The Death of Faust" with lemurs and the struggle between angels and demons for the immortal soul of Faust. This scene was also presented mainly by means of eurythmy (except for the roles of Faust and Mephistopheles).K

From the author's book

Chapter 6 Rudolf and Margot One evening, shortly after Nureyev’s arrival in Copenhagen, Vera Volkova received a call from the famous ballerina Margot Fonteyn. “Vera,” she asked, “do you know where I can find this Russian guy?” “I know,” Volkova answered. - He's here now,

Who is woven from contradictory facts, rumors and unimaginable adventures, and today, after his death, is considered the brightest star of world ballet.

Childhood

Rudolf was the fourth child in the family of military political instructor Khamet Nuriev. He was born on a train, on March 17, 1938, when his mother, last month pregnancy, having collected her children and meager luggage, she followed her husband to Vladivostok. Khamet Nureyev was in seventh heaven when he saw a boy in Farida’s arms, because before that his wife had only given him daughters, and he decided to name him Rudolf.

The family settled in Vladivostok, but after a year and a half, Khamet received a new assignment - to Moscow. In the capital they were provided with a small wooden house. The Nureyevs lived poorly, and yet life gradually began to improve. All plans and ideas were ruined by the war. In 1941, my father was one of the first to be called up to the front. The family remained in Moscow, but under pressure from Hitler, it was decided to evacuate the military families - first to Chelyabinsk, then to the suburb of Ufa, the village of Shchuchye. Cold, hunger and constant darkness - this is how the great dancer remembered his childhood years in Ufa. Rudolph grew up as a nervous and whiny child, all due to the struggle for a piece of bread and terrible living conditions.

At the age of five, after watching the ballet “The Song of the Cranes,” Rudolf told his mother that he wanted to dance. Farida, without hesitation, sent her son to a dance club in kindergarten. The boy willingly studied, their circle performed in front of the wounded. Everyone who saw Rudolf dancing exclaimed that the child had enormous talent.

Youth

In 1945, the father returned from the front; for the children he was a stranger. With his return, the family’s life began to improve little by little; they were given a warm room in a communal apartment. The father did not share his son's hobby. I didn’t even want to hear about further training in choreography. Hamet dreamed that his son would become an engineer.

At the age of ten, Rudolf was invited to a dance club at the house of pioneers. Radik's first teacher was Anna Ivanovna Udaltsova, who had previously danced in Diaghilev's corps de ballet. The ballerina immediately noted the remarkable talent of her student and recommended that he go to Leningrad for further training in classical dance. Rudolf Nureyev, whose biography has become public today, received these parting words with excitement.

In 1955, fate presented him with a huge gift. A festival of Bashkir art was held in Moscow. The dance troupe of his ballet theater was going to conquer the capital with the production of “The Crane Song,” but the soloist fell ill. Nuriev proposed his candidacy. He was approved, although the young dancer did not know his part. Behind short term he taught her and ruined her health. Having not fully recovered from the injury, he nevertheless appeared on the stage of the capital’s theater and captivated the audience. From that moment on, his teachers from Ufa realized that Russian ballet had been replenished with a new “frantic Tatar”.

After a successful performance, Nuriev decided to enter the capital’s choreographic studio, but there was no dormitory there. Fate brought him to Leningrad. Here he entered the choreographic school at the age of seventeen.

After finishing his education, Rudik went to a competition in the capital with his partner Alla Sizova. They performed brilliantly, but the solo part made an indelible impression on the commission young talent. Rudolf Nureyev, whose dancing was disconcerting, wild and barbaric, captivated critics. From the point of view of novelty, his style of dancing was extraordinary, but technically it was absurd. For "Laurencia" he and his partner received gold at the competition; Nuriev refused to accept the award. Upon arrival in Leningrad, he danced “Gayane” with his partner Ninel Kurgapkina. This was followed by productions such as The Sleeping Beauty and Swan Lake. Life at the Mariinsky Theater was in full swing, and Rudolf was in full swing along with it.

Character of a great dancer

Despite his talent and dedication on stage, the talented young man was not loved behind the scenes, and it was all due to his arrogant character. The life of Rudolf Nureyev from childhood was not sweet; hunger, cold, poverty, echoes of war - this vulnerable boy had to endure a lot.

In more mature age Rudolph, seeing his superiority over his peers, often forgot the rules of basic education. He could be rude to his partner, shunned collective rules, and ignored discipline. He considered many of his colleagues to be mediocrities and told them about this in a harsh manner.

In his more mature years, when Rudolph became a star of the first magnitude, despite huge fees, he refused to pay in restaurants and staged wild antics and hysterics in the theater. The public idolized him, but people who knew him a little closer found him repulsive and rude.

"Leap of Freedom"

Russian ballet in post-war period was experiencing its heyday, all thanks to bright talented artists. Nureyev always stood out from the crowd. Fans went to the Kirov Theater specifically “to see Nuriev.” The performances “Giselle or the Wilis”, “The Nutcracker”, and “Swan Lake” were especially popular among the audience.

In the late 50s, Rudolf Nureyev, whose biography is complete extraordinary gifts fate, danced in nine performances of the Mariinsky Theater. The main troupe went on tour, and then he, a bright Tatar youth, appeared in all his glory. In 1958, he was offered to become a partner of the leading prima of the theater, Natalya Dudinskaya. Their first joint performance was Don Quixote. Then came the unforgettable “La Bayadère,” with which Nureyev conquered Paris.

In 1961, the Mariinsky Theater toured Europe. First on the list was Paris. Rudolf Nureyev, whose work was very colorful, was the highlight among ballet connoisseurs and lovers that everyone wanted to “taste.” The Parisian public went into ecstasy from “La Bayadère” and Nureyev’s dance. The young balleron immediately found fellow fans in the high society of Paris. He went with them to the theater, cinema and restaurants. Such behavior was categorically unacceptable for a Russian person of the “Khrushchev” era. After Paris, London was on schedule, but the theater management was informed that Nureyev was flying home.

Death of Rudolf Nureyev

The passing of the great dancer was a real tragedy for his fans. The official reason for his death was stated to be problems with the heart, but in fact this is not the case. Like many talented people of the last century, Rudolf Nureyev, whose biography, like ballet, was filled with ups and downs, died of AIDS. This happened in one of the clinics in Paris on January 6, 1993. For a long time, the great dancer did not admit that he had AIDS and refused to be examined. Some blame his rampant sexual dalliances.

Somebody's talking about rock talented people 60s. Sex, drugs, rock and roll and homosexuality were in the crosshairs of the powers that be. Some researchers argue that many famous gays were amazed "intentionally" by the new

Rudolf Nureyev is a legend of Russian and world ballet, the most outstanding dancer of the last century.

Childhood

Rudolf Nuriev was born on March 17, 1938 in the family of Farida and Khamet Nuriev. His father was a political commissar in the Red Army. In all biographies, the birthplace of the future stage star is recorded in Irkutsk, and the actual place of his birth is the train in which the pregnant Farida was traveling after her husband to Vladivostok. Hamet was very happy about the birth of his son and named him Rudolf. Before this, three girls were born in the family - Rosa, Rozida and Lydia.

The family lived in Vladivostok for a year and a half, until the father was transferred to a new duty station, in Moscow. Here they settle in a small wooden house, live like everyone else, not richly. Life is gradually getting better, but all the plans and ideas failed to come true - the war began. The father goes to the front in the front row. The family remained in Moscow, but was soon evacuated along with other military families. They ended up in Chelyabinsk, and then ended up in the village of Shchuchye, not far from Ufa. Rudolph remembers the war years with difficulty; nothing remains in his memory except cold, hunger and constant darkness. The boy was nervous and often cried, probably because he had to fight for food and survive in terrible conditions.

When he was 5 years old, he saw ballet for the first time. It was "Crane Song". Little Rudolph firmly decides to dance. Farida did not hesitate for a long time and allowed her son to study in the dance club of the kindergarten. The boy studied with great enthusiasm; the wounded soldiers really liked the performance of their circle. At the sight of the little dancing boy, everyone was delighted and amazed at his enormous talent.

Youth years

After the Victory in 1945, the father returns, but the children have forgotten how to see in him loved one. They got a room in a communal apartment, which was warm and bright, and life gradually began to improve. The father did not like his son’s occupation; in the future he saw him as an engineer.

When the boy was 10 years old, he began to study in the dance club of the Pioneer House. His first teacher was A.I. Udaltsova, she immediately recognized the talent in the child and advised him to continue his dance studies in Leningrad.

Photo: Rudolf Nureyev

In 1955, a young man receives an unexpected gift from fate. The Bashkortostan Art Festival has opened in Moscow. His dance troupe was supposed to perform the ballet “The Song of the Crane,” but the soloist suddenly fell ill. And young Rudolf offers his services, even though he doesn’t know the party at all. His candidacy is approved, but the guy has to learn the entire game in a short time. He was able to do this, but his health was compromised. There was no time to recover, a young dancer with an injury goes on stage and conquers the audience. It was at this moment that it became clear to his teachers that a “fierce Tatar” had appeared in Russian ballet.

After this fateful performance, Rudolf decided to enter the capital's choreography studio, but they did not provide hostel accommodation for nonresidents. So he ends up in Leningrad and in 1955 he enters the Leningrad Choreographic School. He did not know that children begin to study at the age of 12 and his classmates have gone far ahead in terms of mastery. They make fun of him, he finds it difficult to get along with other students. Further residence in the hostel becomes impossible. He is saved by his mentor, A. Pushkin, who offered to live with his family.

In 1958, Rudolf graduated from the choreography school and became a member of the troupe of the Kirov Opera and Ballet Theater in Leningrad. The prima ballerina of this theater N. Dudinskaya insisted on this invitation.

Life in ballet

The artist’s first professional performance took place immediately after graduation. He took part in a competition held in Moscow. His partner was A. Sizova. The duo's performance was brilliant; the commission was delighted with the solo part of the young talent. He was distinguished by his extraordinary style of dancing; no one had ever seen such a technique before. The ballet "Laurencia" brought them gold in this competition, but Rudolf refused to accept the award. Upon returning to Leningrad, he dances “Gayane”, but with another partner - N. Kurgapkina. After that there was “Sleeping Beauty”, “Swan Lake”. The Mariinsky Theater was literally boiling, and Nuriev was at the epicenter of this boiling.

He receives a gold medal, having conquered the World Festival of Youth and Students, which was held in Vienna, with his dance. After three years of work in the theater, Rudolf takes an important place in the troupe and becomes the hope of the entire theater. Then there were triumphant performances in Bulgaria, East Germany, and Egypt. After this, Nureyev easily receives a visa to travel to France. And the dancer went to conquer the Paris Opera. But he managed to perform in France only a few times; by order of the KGB, he was removed from the repertoire of performances and had to go home to Soviet Union.

The official version of the reason for this decision is a violation of the regime while staying abroad. But most likely the reason was the artist’s unconventional orientation. Rudolf did not comply, asked for political asylum in France and never returned to the Soviet Union, where prison awaited him. Quite a long time passed, and Rudolf was allowed to enter the Union, but it was short-term. The dancer was only able to come for 3 days to bury his mother.

Rudolf Nureyev becomes a member of the Marquis de Cuevas Ballet troupe, but after 6 months he is forced to leave France - they refused to grant him political asylum. The talented dancer was happily accepted in the UK; he settled in London and performed a duet with the famous ballerina Margot Fonteyn. Their acquaintance occurred in 1961, when Margot was 40 years old and was about to leave the stage. She stayed, and the duo existed for 15 long years. Their parts in Giselle were applauded by the English and American public. Their friendship lasted a lifetime, and ended only after Margot's death.

Rudolf Nureyev performed in different countries, worked a lot and fruitfully. In the 60s he had up to two hundred concerts a year, after 1975 he began to give 300 concerts, i.e. worked almost every day.

Dancer character

Undoubtedly, Rudolf was talented and selfless on stage, but in Everyday life he was not very well liked. He was arrogant and arrogant. The boy's childhood was not easy, this also left an imprint on his fate.

Feeling his superiority over others, he became uncontrollable - he was rude to his partners, ignored the rules of behavior in the team and violated discipline. He could tell a colleague that she was untalented, and sharply, without choosing any expressions.

Having become more mature and having risen to an unattainable height, with his sky-high fees, he did not pay the bill in a restaurant, became hysterical in the theater, and annoyed everyone with his wild antics. The audience was ready to carry their idol in their arms, but those who were closely acquainted with him considered him a disgusting rude man.

Acting and conducting career

His first film role was back in the USSR. The film “Soulful Flight”, which was filmed specifically for the All-Union Review of Choreography Schools. Then there were other roles in various ballet films. But there are also real roles in feature films- the biographical drama “Valentino” and in the film “In Plain Sight” together with the young N. Kinski.

Rudolph also tried himself as a choreographer, staging classical performances in his own version. His production also included the ballets “Tancredi” and “Manfred,” which were particularly original.

During the leadership of the Grand Opera troupe in Paris, he tries to give scope to young artists, promoting them to the best roles, and in defiance of the current hierarchy of already famous soloists and approx. World practice has never known this before.

At the end of his life he had to forget about dancing, but parting with the theater was like death and Rudolf became an orchestra conductor. He was even invited to post-Soviet Russia as a conductor when it was necessary to conduct the ballets “The Nutcracker” and “Romeo and Juliet” in Kazan.

Personal life

In Rudolf’s personal life there were exclusively men - the famous dancer did not hide his homosexuality. Although, according to the testimony of some of his acquaintances, in his youth he started romantic relationships with girls.

At different periods of his life, no less famous personalities were next to the great actor. He is credited with having an affair with musician Freddie Mercury, fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent, and singer Elton John. But the love of his life can be called the Danish dancer Erik Brun. Their relationship existed for a long time - twenty-five years, until Eric died in 1986. Their relationship was not easy; the temperaments of the Russian and the Dane were too different.

Death

According to the official version, Rudolf Nureyev died of heart disease, but everyone knows that such a conclusion is far from the truth. In 1983, a blood test on Rudolph revealed the presence of the immunodeficiency virus, which has been called the plague of the 20th century. The disease progressed, because the dancer refused to admit that he had AIDS, did not undergo any examinations and did not take medications. Ten years after the diagnosis was confirmed, the great dancer passed away. This happened on January 6, 1993 in a Paris clinic. His dying wish was fulfilled exactly - the Russian cemetery of Sainte-Genevieve-des-Bois became the burial place, and a bright Persian carpet was placed on top of the grave.

The work of Rudolf Nureyev is very highly valued in his homeland, even though he left it at one time. The Bashkir College of Choreography, a street in the city of Ufa, bears his name, and a museum has been created. Every year a classical dance festival dedicated to Rudolf Nureyev is held in Kazan.

The relevance and reliability of information is important to us. If you find an error or inaccuracy, please let us know. Highlight the error and press the keyboard shortcut Ctrl+Enter .

On June 16, 1961, the world was shocked by a sensation - the leading dancer of the Kirov Theater Rudolf Nureyev did not return from a tour from Paris to the USSR. Foreign newspapers were full of headlines: “Ballet star and drama at Le Bourget Airport,” “Leap to Freedom,” “A girl sees how the Russians are pursuing her friend.”

In June 1961, Rudolf Nureyev was on tour in Paris with the Kirov Theater troupe, but he was unexpectedly called to Moscow, allegedly to dance in the Kremlin. His millionaire friend Clara Saint came to see Nuriev off at the airport, came up to say goodbye, hugged her and whispered in his ear: “You should go up to those two policemen and say - I want to stay in France. They are waiting for you.” Suspecting something was wrong, state security officers began to push Nureyev back, but he broke free and made one of his famous jumps, landing right in the hands of the police with the words: “I want to be free.” Reporters called it a "leap to freedom."

“I made the decision because I had no other choice. And whatever the negative consequences of this step, I do not regret it,” Nureyev wrote in his autobiography. He really had no choice: the KGB had long suspected him of homosexuality, and in Paris evidence of this was presented. The then KGB chairman A. Shelepin, in particular, reported to the CPSU Central Committee: “On June 3 of this year, information was received from Paris that Rudolf Khamitovich Nuriev was violating the rules of conduct for Soviet citizens abroad, leaving alone for the city and returning to the hotel late at night. In addition, he established close relationships with French artists, among whom there were homosexuals. Despite preventive conversations held with him, Nuriev did not change his behavior..."

According to some reports, in Paris the KGB specially placed the famous dancer in a room with a certain Yuri Solovyov. His task was to confirm Nuriev’s unconventional inclinations, which Solovyov did. The great dancer was threatened with seven years in maximum security camps or work as a KGB informant.

Immediately after his escape, an open meeting of the Kirov Theater troupe was held, where the artists were forced to unanimously brand him as a “defector.” And in January 1962, an official trial of Rudolf Nureyev took place (in absentia, of course), at which he was sentenced as a traitor to the Motherland to seven years of forced labor and serving his term in a maximum security colony. For many years, he was harassed by anonymous threatening calls, especially often just before going on stage; his mother was forced to call her son and persuade him to return to his homeland.

Nuriev became one of the first Soviet men to admit his own gay orientation. Moreover, the love story of Rudolf Nureyev and Eric Brun is called one of the most passionate relationships. Eric Brun was an outstanding dancer who captivated Russian audiences during a tour of the American Ballet Theater in 1960. Nureyev was captivated by him, his manner, his elegance, the classicism of his art, his human qualities. Many noted that they were complete opposites of each other. Nureyev is a passionate, frantic Tatar, almost a savage, and Brun is a calm, reasonable Scandinavian.

Nevertheless, the main love in Nuriev’s life was still dance. “I dance for my own pleasure,” he said. “If you try to please everyone, it’s not original.” Leap to Freedom gave him a unique opportunity to work with the Royal Ballet in London. During his creative life, Nuriev managed to perform almost all the leading male roles of classical ballet.

Thanks to his passion for ballet, the role of the male partner became significant and equal to the role of the ballerina. For greater expressiveness, Nureyev appeared on stage in only tights and a dance bandage. He wanted to show not just dance, but all the beauty of the human body during movement. In the 20th century, a similar concept was perhaps embodied only by Vaslav Nijinsky and Isadora Duncan.

The then great Margot Fonteyn became his ally in his love of dance. But even she could not imagine that this tandem would remain in the history of ballet as one of the most brilliant. Each individual could not have achieved what they achieved together. When they met, Fontaine was 43 years old, and Nureyev was 24. “From the first second I realized that I had met a friend. It was the brightest moment in my life from the day I found myself in the West,” he later wrote.

The joint work of Fonteyn and Nuriev began in 1962 with the ballet “Giselle”. In 1963, the famous choreographer F. Ashton specially staged the ballet “Margaret and Armand” for them. After Swan Lake at the Vienna Opera in October 1964, they were called to the stage eighty-nine times. Stagehands had to pay extra wages because they could not dismantle the scenery and were delayed in the theater.

Their relationship was not just business. Nureyev managed to transfer all the passions of their dance into life. Years later, when Fontaine was dying of cancer, Nureyev, himself terminally ill, went to see her in Panama and supported her - morally, but not financially. Margot died in poverty, while Nureyev was the richest man in the ballet world. Vanity Fair estimated his fortune at $80 million.

Money and fame came to Nuriev quickly and helped free his frantic temperament. In the West, he could afford any behavior: he was forgiven for a lot. Once he contrived to give an interview to two competing publications on the same day - Time and Newsweek. Both wanted to publish long article-interviews about him. He decided that he couldn’t miss at least one interview, so on the day of the performance he attended two receptions at once, where he met with the press. The next day, both magazines published articles about him with a circulation of five million each.

No dancer would be forgiven for performing barefoot at a reception in the presence of the royal family in London. When he got hot, he calmly took off his shoes. Rudolf could be very rude to conductors, partners, producers, himself supporting and emphasizing the rumors spread about his terrible character.

Nureyev gave at least 200 performances a year in all corners of the world and never left the stage for more than two weeks. They said that he did not dance only in Antarctica. Traveling around the world, Nuriev was influenced by a variety of ballet schools - Danish, American, English - while remaining faithful to the Russian classical school. This was the essence of “Nuriev’s style”.

According to Otis Stewart, “the world undoubtedly knew dancers who were technically stronger and had perfect lines. But not one has yet appeared that even remotely resembles this thin wild Pan, who managed to debunk in the eyes of the public the usual prince, forever standing “in the wings,” and turn him into a star as bright and shining as only ballerinas were before him.”

Nureyev acted a lot in films and on television. In 1972, a dance film with his participation, “I am a dancer,” was released, and in 1977, Nureyev starred as the famous Hollywood actor Valentino in the film of the same name directed by K. Russell. Many believed that Nureyev played himself in this film. Nureyev also turned out to be an equally talented director, having staged several classical ballets. From 1983 to 1989 he was director of the ballet troupe of the Paris Grand Opera.

Rudolf Nureyev was struck by a terrible disease - AIDS. It is believed that he became infected in the hospital. Allegedly, one day he recklessly crossed the road and was hit by a car. He was given a blood transfusion that was contaminated. Nuriev fought to the last, tried various new medicines, constantly communicated with people, gave lessons. He lived with AIDS for 12 years.

In 1976, a committee was created, consisting of famous cultural figures, which collected more than ten thousand signatures asking to give Rudolf Nureyev’s mother permission to leave the USSR. Forty-two US senators personally addressed the leaders of the Union, the UN interceded for Nuriev, but everything turned out to be useless. Only after Mikhail Gorbachev came to power in 1987 was Nuriev allowed to come to Ufa briefly to say goodbye to his dying mother, who by that time was no longer recognized by anyone.

Knowing that he was ill, Nuriev wanted to return to his native country. In 1989, he danced several performances on the stage of the Kirov Theater. However, the tour brought only disappointment to both Nuriev and those who so wanted to see him. The artist was already seriously ill and was plagued by injuries. He danced with great difficulty, overcoming physical pain. He returned again to France, where it all began.

In the summer of 1991, the disease began to progress. In the spring of next year, its final stage began. In those days, Nureyev was worried about only one thing: he wanted to stage “Romeo and Juliet” at all costs. And fate gave him such a chance. For some time, Nuriev felt better, and he staged the play.

He spent the last hundred days of his life in Paris. This city opened the way for Nureyev to the world of fame and wealth, but it also closed the doors behind him. According to the doctor who was next to Nureyev in the last moments of his life, the 54-year-old dancer died quietly, without suffering.

The great dancer is buried in the Russian cemetery of Saint-Genevieve des Bois near Paris, where many of our famous compatriots who left Russia at different times found their final refuge.

The material was prepared by the online editorswww.rian.ru based on information from RIA Novosti Agency and other sources