Berlin Ballet – Meeting and Dancing with Godunov

 

Berlin has probably been a crossroads for many people and artists, throughout the centuries.

When I was there, it was situated in a place that had divided the eastern and western European Countries for decades.

West Berlin was an island in the East Block that was controlled by Russia and because of that … it was in a unique position to be a bridge between these two realities.

When I lived in Berlin, the Polish Solidary Movement lead by Lech Walensa happened.
Many eastern block dancers came through in an attempt to get out of the conflicts and we had many Polish dancers audition with us in Berlin.

But we were a stopping point also for Alexander Godunov after he defected to the United States.

I am not sure if Berlin was his first stop after he defected. But I would not have been surprised as it was the first place of freedom as one moved through the eastern Russian controlled countries.
I know he defected in 1979 but I believe it must have been in the 1980’s that he was in Berlin.

All I know is that one morning, I came to the theater at my regular time to warm up, close the windows, and allow the room to heat up before class, only to find someone in the studio, huffing and puffing inside.

But the door was locked and that was very odd because our studio doors were never locked.

I knocked on the door loudly because I hear someone doing lots of jumps.

At first, the person inside … did not respond.
So, I knocked louder.

Finally, a male voice asks in English who is there very suspiciously.

I said that I am one of the dancers and I wanted to get into the studio to warm up.

He said, “No! I am in practice!”

And then I can hear him continue his practicing.

A small crowd of dancers gathers, and we are all in a curious state when Evdokimova comes up and we explain what is going on.

She calls out to him inside and he finally is convinced to open the door and let us all in.
As we come in, the smell was the first thing to hit all of us. There is nothing like the smell of tremendous effort and … fear.

Okay, let’s just remember that dancing is a … stinky business. And the European way was (at that time) not as fastidious as most American ways.

So, we were used to a certain level of stinky. Even the cleaning ladies every week would open the windows to clear the smell. Even in the death of winter.
This particular smell (to my very sensitive nose) was that interesting mixture of testosterone, effort, determination, uncertainty, and anxiety.
What I remember, is a very humble person and one who seemed slightly concerned about his safety being so close to Mother Russia.

He was quiet and clearly trying to get his stamina and technique back up to snuff.

He seemed pensive, serious, and wanting to do an excellent job. He seemed somewhat lonely also. I can’t imagine the stress of leaving one’s country (And wife!) to defect to the West.
The stories of defections … from people like Nureyev and Baryshnikov were familiar to all of us in the dance world and we understood how scary, dangerous, and the unbelievable levels of risk were in play.
He was gorgeous, with that long blonde hair and those icy blue eyes. He had the charisma of a star. And the understated quality as he intently worked his art.
This pattern worked with the delicate meticulousness and gentle heart of Eva.
Together on stage there was that special something.

In that moment I marveled at a principal male dancers’ ability to follow, lift, flow with, and support the many various ballerinas that they must learn to work with … throughout their career.

I did not know if he had ever worked with Eva before, and fortunately Eva was one of those dancers that any male dancer would dream of working with … because she was so strong and able to be on her legs and very centered.

But I still was amazed … watching him, because you could see that he had to make many calculated adjustments because of her body, her style, her way to being and our choreography.

Eva was always such a professional (in that regard) and never seemed irritated or upset with a partner. She too was making adjustments and watching the two of them work it out was … so interesting … on almost every level.

She was reading him, and his emotional state and he was trying diligently to learn her flow, tempo, style, and ways of turning.

Eva was always kind and graceful in her mannerisms. He was considerate and attentive.

And the performance was magical that night.

 

Later in my life I saw Godunov in the various movies that he did, and I marveled at his attempts to leap past ballet and into film.

 

And I was deeply saddened to hear of his death from (the nemesis of the Russian people), complications from alcoholism.
I have learned in life that artists are special in so many ways. They are also extremely sensitive and struggle often silently with the demons of doubt and insecurity.
Their power to be bigger than life on a stage is complicated by the conflicts … that the mind and the body play out in such an emotional artform.

~Suzanne Wagner~