Miss Julie – Galina Panov and Rudolph Nureyev

 

There are moments that remain in my memory forever. A particular partnership between Rudolf Nureyev and Galina Panov, in Miss Julie comes to mind.
Galina and Valery Panov both escaped their terrible and horrific treatment by Russian authorities and made their way to Israel, in 1974 (if I remember correctly).
They had been tortured, and Valery had even been poisoned. Yet somehow, he survived and did not just recover but is still alive, teaching, and choreographing still in Israel at the time I am writing this.
The courage and powerful forces of nature that they both were and are, continue to inspire dancers even to this day. They are a legacy unto themselves and continue to bring the passion, power, and depth of the Russian training to dancers throughout the world.
I remember, seeing them perform in Dallas with my company there, The Dallas Metropolitan Ballet, after they were finally out of Russia.
They performed the “Lady and the Hooligan” and Don Quixote Pas de Deux.
I remember being completely mesmerized by both of them. Valery was so passionate and powerful as a dancer, jumper, and partner. His every move was a feat of grandeur and made one realize how far we still had to go to reach the lofty heights of these two amazing dancers.
Galina was completely fearless in his arms, and the complete trust that she had in his ability during a performance showed in her exploding into lifts that defied gravity.
Watching them from the wings when I was 15 years old expanded my mind to see the potential that existed in ballet when one trusted and knew each other’s body intimately.
Watching them changed me forever.
I realized that when one is in partnership with someone of the same intensity and power, that amazing things can become not just possible but the awakening of a dream.
Galina was a small, petite young woman with almost white-blonde hair. What I noticed the most were the size of her feet. While she was much smaller than I, our feet seemed the same size.
Only later on, in Berlin, would I realize that we did have the same point shoe-sized foot. But those big feet on that powerful tiny body made her appear almost like a bunny rabbit to me. And those feet gave her a powerful spring, and a steady base from which to explode in jumps, spin effortlessly in pirouettes, and balance in spaces that seemed endlessly suspended in time.
Their lifts were death-defying in all ways. Valery could lift her up effortlessly, and in these positions that seemed that she could fall, he then would walk around the stage with her balanced on one hand, and she seemed light as a feather. Like an angel in a Michelangelo painting reaching out to touch mankind.
I marvel at how the ballet teachers I had at the Etgen-Atkinson Ballet School, where I studied for years, were able to bring such incredible talent to Dallas and that we were able to perform our shows along with these immensely talented dancers.
Such a thing is a great gift in all ways. And I am grateful to them for that opportunity.
As with so many things in my life, the six degrees of separation were more like, two or three degrees.
It is very clear to me that all of those that I have met in my life and that have impacted me greatly were and still are spiritual family.
Once I left Dallas, I was eventually blessed again to work more intimately with both of them at the Deutsche Oper Berlin. It was amazing how the universe brought us together again, even though they were constantly in and out because of their own professional engagements in other places and countries. Yet, they still impacted me in critical moments, and they both inspired and helped me in different ways at critical times.
After leaving the Deutsche Oper Berlin, I never saw Galina or Valery in person again, but the images that continue to play in my mind are spectacular, and the genuine emotions that played out in dramatic fashion because of such strong personalities showed me that one cannot be great without knowing how to work with the passion and powerful complex emotions that exist in humanity.
What both of the Panovs taught me … was that their personal survival in the face of such horrific and unjust treatment could have only been overcome by their powerful and determined will.
I believe it was that passion inside that kept them alive in the face of terrifying odds. They wanted to be the artists and dancers that would be allowed to express their rights for freedom and justice, and they proved that such a voice could never be squelched, suppressed, contained, or killed.
They showed me that one must face fear and that one must speak up against tyranny.
And the consequences be dammed.
I have never seen myself as brave in the way that both of them expressed. But I know that others see me as brave, bold, and courageous at times. I am glad to have had such courage in moments. And I have touched (in a small way) that fire inside that refused to back down or be not heard.
I am grateful to have had role models such as Nureyev and the Panovs to show me another way to be and exist in this world. They taught me that the world will try to silence you, but you can never let that happen ever. You must be willing to risk it all and potentially die to sometimes have what you want.
While Rudi carried an arrogance, attitude, and ego that was beyond anything I could manage to muster in this life, I did respect him because he taught me a lot about not letting others put me in a box.
Valery taught me that the passion inside his soul could never be contained and that it was always seeking a new expression and a way to take ideas and make them into something beautiful. He understanding of music, movement and his ability to find creative ways to express complex emotions was (at that time) brave, innovative, and yet classically beautiful and dreamlike.
I remember while we were rehearsing for “The Idiot,” a ballet based on the famous author Dostoevsky, Valery, wanted us to run from the back of the stage and then, in the powerful Russian way, slide on our knees, while leaning back on the arches of our feet (in boots), from the middle of the stage to the front.
We all looked at him in shock. We did not know how to do such a move. It was a classically Russian Cossack dance move that we see often demonstrated by the diverse training that all the Russian dancers learn.
But such a type of movement was not ever something we learned in our reality.
Frustrated, Valery (who must have been in his 40’s) showed us himself. As he effortlessly ran forward with speed and conviction, he did the impossible and showed us exactly what he wanted from us.
Stunned, we all just stood there with our mouths open. Here we are, half his age, and he is able to do what seemed to us impossible.

That is the value of observing other dancers who have abilities that seem to defy the impossible. Once we are shown how to do it, then it must be doable.
While we tried, none of us were able to give the effect that he was looking for. And in frustration, he gave up and changed the choreography to something else that we could manage with our limited range and skill.
In general, the Russians have no problem expressing emotions. From the most famous … to the teachers at SAB (School of American Ballet), all of them had this special something that was so clearly a flavor and quality of movement that showed permission to be bigger, better, and freer.
Clearly, all of them (that I knew) had managed to escape the communist political patterns of control, and they showed me that real freedom can never be contained or controlled by a government.
Galina was 11 years Valery’s junior, but she had her own fierceness and strength that showed in her powerful muscles that could spring like a leopard on stage.
I did a variation in Ballet West that I had seen Galina do in Berlin. It was so very difficult for me to be in this role because I could see the grace and elegance that Galina could do with that choreography. However, I just did not have the ego to even pretend that I was on her level of ability or her caliber of a dancer.
While I tried to do it justice, I felt woefully inadequate while performing it.
When you have seen the best, everything else just seems like a hollow attempt.
My one thought that allowed me to keep going in that variation was that I knew that no one else could have pulled it off in the company.
So, while I was not Galina, I at least could fake it enough to get through it. And that was a small win.
But one moment stands out in my mind between Rudi and Galina that was a rare exhibition of Russian temper tantrums and the huge battle of egos.
And it happened on a stage … and in a performance.
Rudolph Nureyev was known for his outbursts and his outrageous behavior that would erupt in (any and all) moments. He was unapologetic about his behavior and did not care if it made others uncomfortable.
He was paired with Galina in the ballet “Miss Julie” because we were performing in Lincoln Center and Kennedy Center on an American Tour.
To get such opportunities, one had to have the faces of big stars and combinations of things that perhaps had not been seen in those places.
Rudi was a draw in any situation. But Rudi and Galina did not often dance together. So that was considered special and unique. A perfect draw for big box office performances. And in those locations … one had to sell out and sell tickets.
To say that these two did not mesh well would be an understatement.
Galina was the most understated and self-controlled of the two by a long shot. But in her heart … beat the fire of a Russian soul that had fought just as hard if not harder than Rudi to escape the clutches of the Communist Political structure. And she did not take a lot of crap from anyone.
We had all seen in rehearsals the tense words being spoken between them in hushed tones and the evasive glances. Nureyev was way more of a prima donna than Galina, and that word (prima donna) is mostly associated with singers; let’s just say that words and gestures can be as strong or stronger than songs.
There was a tension between them that oddly worked with these characters, but Nureyev tended to take things to the extreme and test the edges.
He was used to pushing around certain dancers, and more often than not, he could get away with it.
But another Russian would only take things so far.
Both are principal dancers, and Rudi loved to poke the Russian bear in Galina. She was not pleased with his attempts to get under her skin. But she kept her cool in rehearsals but still was not pleased. I could tell by the set of her jaw and the look on her face.
Dancers easily read body language, and the body language between these two … was tempestuous at best.
We go to do an opening night on the American tour. Honestly, I can’t remember if it was in Lincoln Center or Kennedy Center. I think it was probably Kennedy Center. But I could be wrong. So much happened on that tour that it sort of runs together.
We finish the performance of Miss Julie, and the curtain goes down.
The way things were supposed to go was that the curtain comes up, the corps (us) bow, and then step back. Then the soloists come out and bow and step back. Then Rudi is supposed to come on and bow and step back. Then finally, Galina comes on, and the crowd will roar, and she bows a couple of times and gestures to Nureyev, and he comes up to meet her, and they bow together. As they step back, then we all step forward and bow and step back again.
Finally, flowers come out for Galina. She takes them and bows as people scream bravo! Then she steps back, picks a single red rose for Nureyev, and hands it to him, indicating that he is such an amazing partner. He bows graciously and takes the flower from her outstretched hand, and then, together, then come to the front of the stage and bow again. Then they step back, and the curtain closes.

That is how it is supposed to go.
This night was going to be different.

Once the ballet was finishing up, onstage, in the final scene between the two of them, there is some intense conversation happening in Russian.
While I don’t speak Russian at all, let’s just say that the words sounded harsh, and the glare (at times) from Galina could have burned a hole in the sun.
Her body language got very tense, and you could tell that he was not pleased with her and he was telling her so.
His words had the tone of being insulting.

Now, again … I don’t know what was being said. This was all observation.
The curtain comes down, and the corps bows, the soloists bow, then Nureyev is supposed to come out from the right.
But he does not.
The audience is continuing to applaud, but he is still not coming out.
Galina is on the opposite side of the stage, waiting for him to bow, but he is not coming out. He keeps gesturing to her to go out.

That is an insult because it is usually the ballerina that comes out last. Not the principal male.
That ballet, after all is called “Miss Julie”.

But egos are now on fire, and Rudi refuses to come out.

The applause started to wane as everyone is confused.
Us included.

Finally, Galina comes out, and there is a roar of applause for her, and she bows and steps back.

Then it is the King of Ballet’s turn, and he comes out to more roaring applause and bravos.
He milks it for all it is worth.

He does not gesture for her to come up and bow with him. He is taking center stage and all the limelight.
She is furious. Her neck, chest, and cheeks flush a bright red.
I think she is going to explode.

She decides to step up on her own to be level with Nureyev, but he refuses to budge off center stage forcing her to be on the side of him.
They both step back, and the flowers come out for Galina.

But Nureyev steps forward and, to the shock of the flower person, takes the flowers for himself.

The man looks at Galina, horrified to let her know that this was not his idea.
She is scowling in a way I have never seen her face look.
It was like watching a snowstorm in Russia coming suddenly over the ridges of a mountaintop and pouring into the landscape of her face.
Stunned, we can only watch this Russian tragedy continue to unfold.
Nureyev bows with the flowers and steps back to Galina.
Then with an exaggerated gesture, he picks on rose from the bunch and hands it to Galina.
Such a moment is so outrageously insulting that no one moves or breathes on the stage.

She takes the rose from his hand in disgust, and as he turns back to the audience, she drops it on the floor.
The audience roars at the drama happening, and Nureyev relished in the moment of absurdity that was him showing his superiority and that he was the Premier Danseur.

At that point, the curtain comes down and does not go back up again.

The yelling that ensued between the two of them was all in Russian, but they were clearly screaming at each other.

We all left the stage as quickly as possible.
That was a moment that I will never forget.

It was a moment that captivated the essence of two very distinctly different people that really did not seem to like to work together.
Both were enormously talented. One had a much bigger ego than the other.
But such moments are precious. They make me smile. They are uniquely … human.

And they show that everything is not always so “beautiful at the ballet.”

~Suzanne Wagner~