In the interim

I'm home briefly between the dress rehearsal and the opening night performance (7:30 curtain tonight!) for the Kirov Ballet's production of La Bayadère—The Temple Dancer—at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.

The Kirov Ballet, from the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg, is one of the world's very top and most outstanding ballet companies. They are a national treasure of Russia and certainly an icon in the international cultural world. They make an annual tour to Washington, D.C., to perform at the Kennedy Center, and it's always a wonderful experience for the audiences. This year is going to be another splendid time for everyone.

For the third year in a row, I'm serving as a supernumerary—an extra, if you will—to supplement the cast. This year I have lots of choreography to remember. In act one, I'm one of the Brahmin priests. There are four of us locals helping six of the professional Russian dancers (three of whom are taller than me!) in an elaborate temple dance routine, and it's a bit nerve racking, since we open tonight and we have had only two rehearsals! In act two, I do more traditional "super" duties, carrying the ornate and very heavy litter chair for the majarajah, then I become an on-stage spectator, standing on the sidelines for most of the act. Of course, standing perfectly still, feet in first position, all that time is not nearly as easy as it sounds, and the muscles in the arches of my feet were cramping before we could move!

I have to say that being on stage during this show is like living through a real life Russian twink porn video!

In act one, about 20 young guys in the corps de ballet are running around, wearing nothing more than what appear to be shredded boxer shorts! The sweat glistens on their lithe, young bodies, and they are so full of excitement and youthful enthusiasm, they remind me of an adult Lord of the Flies. In act two, half of those same guys are in nothing but tight red pants to do a wild, frenzied, athletic dance filled with masculine braggadoccio. The way the stage lights catch their muscles and their glistening hair is nothing short of pure beauty. Then we get to meet the guy who dances the role of the Golden Idol, and he, too, is nearly naked, wearing basically gold body paint, some jewels, and a hat, all the better to show off his splendid musculature and his excellent and dynamic dancing.

I'm not in the third act, so I got a pass and went out into the house to watch it. Act three is the famous "Kingdom of the Shades" scene, where the prince, despondent that his bayadère love has died at the end of act two, smokes opium to escape his pain, and he has this beautiful dream about his beloved temple girl. After all of the action of the first two acts, the dream sequence is slow, stately, and romantic. While the action looks simple when all 32 female members of the corps de ballet individually make their entrance to come down the mountain, the women are placed through incredible physical demands to get the unified precision required and, most especially for those entering first, to continue that repeated perfect performance over and over and over again. Then, of course, the prince and the bayadère have their solo and duet moments of virtuosity. And they lived happily ever after, at least so long as the opium lasts.

The four weekend performances are all already sold-out. There are still tickets available for tonight, tomorrow, and Thursday's performances.

For a bit of background about the ballet, there's a nice story in the Washington Post.