Yearly Archive: 2025

“The Tempest”
Bolshoi Ballet
Bolshoi Theatre (New Stage)
Moscow, Russia
April 22, 2025

by Ilona Landgraf
Copyright © 2025 by Ilona Landgraf

For his latest choreography for the Bolshoi Ballet in 2024—The Tempest (after Shakespeare’s play)—Vyacheslav Samodurov again teamed up with composer Yuri Krasavin. Both had already collaborated on the one-act ballet Dancemania in 2022. This time, their cooperation must have been tempestuous. “Vyacheslav Samodurov and I did not get along right away…I still see this play completely different,” Krasavin stated in an interview. While Krasavin believed that he accompanied rather than led the artistic process, for Samodurov, “Music comes always first and the composer is the boss in many ways.” But whoever was the boss, the score (played by the Bolshoi Orchestra under the baton of Pavel Klinichev) was mesmerizing.
Although Krasavin allegedly hates singing, he included a male choir in sailors’ dress that sang the lines of Prospero’s last monologue as a prelude to the imminent storm. They sang twice more from offstage. Stormy melodies (and dramatic lighting by Sergei Vasiliev) accompanied the wreckage that Prospero (Denis Savin) fabricated with the help of Ariel (Mark Chino). A medley of strange sounds conveyed the island’s mysterious atmosphere, and gentle court melodies (some of which recalled the music of Shakespeare’s time) represented the vibes of civilian life at the wedding of Prospero’s daughter, Miranda (Margarita Shrayner), and Ferdinand (Alexei Putintsev). Often, single instruments played alternately as if chatting about the goings-on or caricaturizing them. Leitmotifs and parts of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 17 (also titled The Tempest) structured the score. Samodurov was against using Beethoven, but Krasavin didn’t yield: “He [Samodurov] was often able to make me do what he wanted, so I was happy to get my revenge for once.”

Set designer, Aleksei Kondratyev, is also Samodurov’s established collaborator. His signature design—rows of colored ellipses with dark centers—resembled irises and pupils of eyes this time. Thin, wavy lines outlined their almond shape. The pupils monitored the scene like rows of cameras, enabling Prospero to secretly keep tabs on the events. He also surveilled natural and supernatural waves from a throne-like seat mounted to a revolving satellite dish surrounding him like a halo.
Head-high tufts of thin rods and wafts of mist represented the marshy reed-grass (and quagmire) in which Prospero’s enemies—his brother, Antonio (Egor Khromushin), the king of Naples, Alonso (Kamil Yangurazov), and Alonso’s brother, Sebastian (Evgeny Golovin)—and the old Gonzalo (Sergei Diev) were stuck.
Prospero later detained them in a rectangular, white frame in which four metal circles hung in line at face level. They looked like nooses, and glancing at them had a painful self-reflective effect. Except for Gonzalo, who fearfully crossed himself, the murky characters that came to light were laughingstocks. Alonso intended to raise his fist threateningly but ducked away, his arms trembling. Antonio slumped like a repentant sinner; Sebastian writhed like a worm.

In the same frame (without the nooses), Prospero protected Miranda from the assault of the savage Caliban (Nikita Kapustin) but also isolated her from the outside world. Her seclusion was two-layered. One the one hand, it resulted from being stranded on an island, on the other hand it was intentional. Miranda was Prospero’s one and only. He guarded her like the apple of his eye and arranged her life according to a plan that, given his selflessness, must have been prepared by higher powers.

Other set elements had a double meaning as well. A mirror in the gloomy rear reflected the dancers so vaguely that their dance could also be interpreted as a hallucination. Thin rods like oscillating waves symbolized the billowing surf and spherical vibes. A broad jaggy line that appeared on the backdrop after the wreckage heralded rough shifts and simultaneously represented Miranda’s agitation (which she had just expressed by hammering an increasingly dissonant melody on an invisible cembalo).
Huge, four-pointed stars signified Prospero’s backing by higher realms. Assembled to a steely wall, similar stars protected him from the assault schemed by the revengeful Caliban, the jester Trinculo (Evgeny Triposkiadis), and the boozer Stefano (Alexander Smoliyaninov). But since all three were drop-down drunk, their plan might have failed anyway.

The many spirits inhabiting the island tended to Prospero. Except for a red sash at the wedding, they were naked (i.e., they wore skin-colored shorts and tops designed by Igor Chapurin). When enjoying the elements, their feet swept the floor and their arms skimmed the air, but when adopting the vibes of Prospero’s anger, they whirled around in a rage. Harmony was restored at the wedding, where processional dances alternated with swirly group scenes and Iris (Deymante Taranda), Ceres (Polina Netsvetaeva-Dolgalyova), and Juno (Elizaveta Chertikhina) contributed solos.

As a light-footed, weightless spirit of the air, Chino’s Ariel bounced about and flew like a swallow to execute Prospero’s orders. Although at times, his outstretched arms expressed a yearning to fly in freedom. That’s why the moment Prospero’s mission was accomplished, Ariel was gone.

At first sight, the supple, curly-haired Caliban didn’t look too bad a match for Miranda as he begged for her attention. Yet once she responded to his advances, he knew no limits. He was already forcefully grabbing her when Prospero intervened. On the backdrop, rows of pupils turned red with anger when they violently clashed. Their fight was raw and martial. Caliban ran headlong into Prospero’s belly, both screamed inaudibly, and every fiber of their bodies was electrified by ire. Eventually, Prospero’s energy overpowered Caliban. Although Caliban tried to counter the vibes from Prospero’s hand, he recoiled from their strength. Later, when Prospero revealed himself as the rightful duke of Milan, Caliban prostrated, his forehead pressed to the floor. Prospero had every reason to punish him, but instead he shrugged his shoulders, waved his hand in refusal, and kissed Caliban’s head. There was no point in re-educating a mean creature that only obeyed brute force. His kind could never be wiped out. Prospero was proven right. After relinquishing his magic powers (symbolized by cryptic, painted tattoos), Caliban dropped any sign of subservience and rejoiced.

Especially during the first act, Samodurov zoomed in on single characters like in a chamber drama, relying on the dancers’ ability to fill the otherwise vast, empty stage. Another company might have failed, especially as the choreography was confined to a limited space, but not so the Bolshoi’s.
Although Miranda merely jerked her head as if to mentally process the shipwreck, and her father observed her motionless, the scene was hypnotic. The air buzzed with Savin’s presence, whether Prospero took action or watched and waited. He remained the master of the situation, even when fighting his inner battles (when handing over his daughter to another man, for example). Only once, when beside himself with wrath over his enemies, did Ariel calm him. Prospero pulled the strings but wasn’t an autocratic manipulator. His goal was to realize a predetermined fate, including kneading Ferdinand’s mind into obedience before he met Miranda. Ariel took over by making Ferdinand follow and copy his movements. His success was striking. Miranda and Ferdinand fell in love at first sight afterward, flirting like blushing teenagers. Magnetically attracted to one another, Prospero had difficulty separating them. Pretending outrage, he ordered Ferdinand to pile wood (or at least mime it).
Later, at their wedding, both lovers were as naked as the spirits. Varnish wasn’t necessary to seal their love. Accompanied by the clapping of castanets, Miranda’s jetés flew like arrows. Ferdinand propelled himself into fine tours en l’air, but their pas de deux was about self-exploration rather than showmanship. Prospero had fulfilled his mission. The spirits left him; the newlyweds headed off. Only Caliban was present.