The Japanese ballet by Jiri Kylian was released in Moscow cinemas

In the capital’s cinemas, the TheatreHD project presented the Russian premiere of Jiri Kylian’s little-known ballet “Kaguya, the Moon Princess,” staged by him at the Netherlands Dance Theater (NDT 1) in 1988 to the music of Maki Ishii based on an ancient Japanese legend. Tatiana Kuznetsova I was surprised by the relevance and at the same time lack of demand for this ballet.

The ballet “Kaguya, the Moon Princess” by Jiri Kylian, one of the most sought-after choreographers, is staged extremely rarely by world companies. The TheatreHD project presented this rarity to Moscow in all its glory: the NDT production was transferred to film in 1994, when Kilian himself was in the prime of his creative powers, and his troupe was one of the strongest in the world. “Kaguya, the Moon Princess” is almost Kilian’s only story ballet, but the choreographer remained true to himself: he was least concerned about the ancient legend about the moon princess. And Maki Ishii, who created this ballet in 1985, did not at all intend to musically illustrate the story of a bamboo cutter who discovered a tiny, lovely creature in the stem of a plant, who later became a girl whose unearthly beauty caused serious discord among fans. The Moon Princess had to return to her home planet to avoid the harassment of the powerful Mikado. The ballet’s music, with its grand percussive climax, is not narrative at all, but is distinctly Japanese. The composer used a giant gong, and huge taiko drums, and bunches of bells, and Japanese wind instruments, and very outlandish small copper disks, which, when in contact with the bow, emit a barely audible heavenly ringing – the camera shows the manipulations of the musicians both during the overture and during the course actions.

However, Kilian, the most musical of choreographers, ignored the national flavor of music, like his artistic co-authors. A light overalls that fit the body of the lunar maiden, the linen trousers of her adherents, the black and rough clothes of the antagonists, the black and white dresses of women, as well as three real cars that light up from the inside with a scarlet flame, and thin steel pipes suspended on cables from the grate bars, cutting through the “heaven” scenes – Ferial Simon’s costumes, supported by Michael Simon’s set design and lighting, leave no doubt that the ballet does not take place in the old days and is by no means in Japan. Jiri Kylian staged a ballet about cult as a phenomenon. About his champions and opponents. About the destructive aggression inevitably generated by an idol, even the most beautiful one.

Jiri Kylian is not one of those authors who likes to explain his works. He leaves conclusions to be drawn by the audience on the basis of very clear, but ambiguous mise-en-scenes. In Kaguya, future adepts themselves give rise to a cult: the lunar maiden will appear to the world after the solemn procession of five dancers along the paths of light to some cellular columbarium cabinets. An unearthly creature will appear on an invisible platform in the darkness above the cars only when the young men take the black caskets out of their cells and stretch them towards the starry “sky”. Kaguya herself is a pure hieroglyph: her light body draws signs of acute beauty on the black background of the backdrop – the fractures of the body, the arms behind the back, the pointed lunges, the weaving and raising of the legs. There is no character, no desire, no appeal in her slow dance: her followers prostrate themselves after fiery solos, while she continues on her way. When the multiplied fans erect an altar of caskets for her, a whirlwind of black villains will sweep away the structure, and Kaguya will leave the battlefield. She will reappear only on the ruins of the world and will be discovered by Mikado and his warriors. Their attempt to capture the maiden – replete with dynamic supports and fixed poses of the adagio quartet against the backdrop (and under the cover) of the lightest golden fabric – will only lead to her disappearance: the princess’s broken black silhouette against the yellow background of the “moon” gong will crown this 70-minute performance, spectacular and mysterious, captivating with surprises and contrasts – light, tempo, emotional and lexical.

The paucity of stage life of this undoubtedly audience ballet, intriguing in its variety of interpretations, can be explained by only one thing: it is extremely difficult for any troupe. There is no corps de ballet here: all twenty people, divided into “black” and “white” (it doesn’t matter whether they depict the parties to the conflict or the struggle between good and evil in the soul of one person), are actually soloists. Everyone has their moments of glory: the compositional basis of this ballet is the ancient form of agon. Simply – a dance of the highest virtuosity, intense rhythm and ever-accelerating tempo. The total battle of “whites” and “blacks” consists entirely of individual fights – fighting duets and murderous trios. But even in “peaceful” life, the spirit of gender confrontation reigns: in rapid duet skirmishes, men and women compete in dexterity and agility, displaying an inexhaustible supply of choreographer’s imagination.

Jiri Kylian, always distinguished by his wealth of choreographic vocabulary, surpassed himself here: he compiled an entire encyclopedia of dance. Slightly deformed classical jumps and rotations (double rounds, flips, assemblies, large pirouettes), demi-characteristic hints of nationality (tapping, pas de peplums with tucked legs, transfers from hip to hip), poses that come from yoga, Bedouin wheels from acrobatics, the footwork of martial arts, echoes of American modernism with a shift in the center of gravity in poses and lifts, twists borrowed from ballet by figure skating, bodily practices of European contemporary dance – everything is mixed in a single cauldron of Kilian’s unique brew. “Kaguya” turned out to be a real treasure: its movements, combinations, supports, connections and transitions would be enough for dozens of ballets. And that was enough: not only for Jiri Kylian himself, but also for his many followers. And epigones.