Blood Over the Balshoi: Mad Dancer Now Behind Bars for Acid Revenge on Ballet Chief; Villain's Girfriend Denied Major Roles, the Assumed Motive

The dancer as Ivan the Terrible. 

In street clothes, he looks like a lawless Birmingham punk rocker.  In costume at the Balshoi, above, he excelled as Ivan the Terrible, among other notorious roles.  He is famed for dancing down the dark side.

And now he is behind bars -- gaze into this killer's eyes, and decide for yourself -- he, one Pavel Dmitrichenko, 29, is charged with organizing  a near-blinding assault of acid into the handsome face of Bolshoi Artistic Director  Sergei Filin.  Doctors are fighting to save at least partial vision for Filin.

The villainous attack -- which will one day likely become the libretto for an opera or ballet -- rocked the ballet world, though it did not shock seasoned insiders, privy to intense rivalries behind the magic-tragic curtain.  And to think how lushly lovely they all looked when, back in 1979 while researching my book on the Soviet Circus scene, I was taken to a performance at the Kremlin Palace of Congresses.  Like a water color come to life, that fluid, that perfect. 

On the CBS Evening News tonight, the motive points to Pavel's wanting to get even for his girlfriend, another dancer, having been overlooked for a recent role, the alleged reason being that she was "too fat."

Looking at her in motion, I had to laugh at such an assertion.  And, another thing:  Who said all male ballet dancers were gay? Not quite in Russia.  So, we can now agree that we have one?  I never bought the claim, not on the Russia side.

Earlier reports surmised the attack to be motivated out of jealousy by a Russian dancer (not sure if it was Ivan) losing out to a role handed, instead, to an American import.

Right now, I am not feeling so sacredly reverential to this bloody troupe.  Russia: what is it about the place?  Are the people really that cold? Recently, I watched a well reviewed movie, Elena, in which a basic heartlessness pervades the lives of virtually all the characters. So utterly dismal. 

PS. Please, everybody, don't give out my e-mail to Ivan the Terrible. We have enough loose cannons on the lose here in Oakland, though not exactly where I live, but, thank God, the city has finally said yes to purchasing on-the-scene advice and assistance from genius top cop, Lord William Bratton of New York, and already, crime is down.

From Russia with Hate: Bloody Bolshoi Acid Toss May Blind Ballet Chief for Life

In Russia, ballet is "a blood sport," according to Scott Pelly on the CBS Evening New, covering the vicious acid attack on the face of Bolshoi Ballet artistic director, Sergei Filin.  

The assailant, so far unidentified, is assumed to be a Bolshoi dancer enraged over the selection, made by Felin shortly after assuming directorship of the company in 2011, of a U.S. dancer to fill a principal role.

Do you still want to be a dancer?  You might first consider checking some safer ways to express yourself physically, such as say, bull fighting or monster jams.

"Doctors are fighting to save the sight of the artistic director of Russia's illustrious Bolshoi Ballet after a masked assailant threw acid in his face on a Moscow street," reported CNN.

The CBS new reports told a tale  "of poisonous rivalries and cutthroat competition among Russia's top dancers, all for the thrill of thrilling "a ballet-mad city where people are as devoted as die-hard sports fans."

Heck, that's where I should move.  Here in the U.S., a certain national pastime, about to be watched this weekend on TV by over a third of the population, leaves me stupidly bored, disengaged.

Back at the Bolshoi, where "art" is something we associate with the higher values and manners of life, dancers do dastardly harm, one to another.  It's been goiing on for over a century.  Needles are slipped into costumes, glass into ballet shoes. Much luck, and may you enjoy your shrieking pain, my hated rival!

Still, "there's never been anything this," claims the CBS newsman. Preceding the acid attack, for pre-show warm ups, Filin's tires were slashed. His e-mail account hacked, into which flowed those lovely death threats -- the new and improved substitute for the old showbiz good luck adage, "break a leg."    

And out in the seats sit the Russians, riveted to the shimmering perfection of bodies gracefully in motion.

The investigation goes on. Dancers take lie detector tests.  The Crowds, I assume, pack the ticket windows with greater force than ever, and therein may lie yet another tale of hateful sabotage -- knocking to the ground the person who stands in line just ahead of you -- for a ticket to the bloody Bolshoi ballet.

Out of the Past: Midway 'Round the World: Have the Russians Refound Their Circus Groove? ... St. Pete Puts Shakespeare Over Sawdust to Packed Houses

Mammoth elephants and auto-driving bears cavort with acrobats in a most unusual new circus bearing a theme based on the comedies of William Shakespeare. Cast of 58. Bring it on, Russia!

Don't give up on those revolutionary Russians, the inventively deft souls who came of age after the revolution of 1917 and redefined circus art by incorporating shades of ballet and mini narratives into their acts. The same souls who mesmerized American audiences when they came west in 1963 and 1967.

Now comes, and maybe with it the return of dominant Soviet creativity, "The Mystery of the Giant Elephants." World premiering at the famed St. Petersburg circus building, now called Bolshoi State Circus. How I love that preciously quaint old arena complete with museum one or two floors up.

This is the arena built in 1878 by noted Italian impresario Gaetano Ciniselli, who ran the nation's most popular and acclaimed circus shows before the Bolsheviks took over.

"Mystery" opened on February 12, and is packing 'em in, says director Alexander Chervotkin, noting early worries among the staff that "a conservative audience would not understand or appreciate the concept."

So far, it's an artful Russian smash. Performances on tap through July 30, then a tour through Russia and the CIS (the old Soviet states). After that? Delighted with the boffo reception, they are not ruling out a tour to Europe or the U.S. Oakland, California, too, please.

Go, dude, go!

First posted February 26, 2010

Sunday Morning, Looking Back: How Sweet the Soviet Sawdust -- Thirty Years Ago

How well I remember the gifted wild animal trainer who now runs what is left of the old Soviet Circus empire and is virtually begging for a government bailout. One frosty October evening thirty years ago after interviewing him following a performance of the New Circus in Moscow, he offered to give me a ride back to my hotel. Sharp frosty night air. Safe darkness over quiet streets. He and his wife. I and my interpreter, Tanya (seen here, above, with her son, Sergei). The four of us inside a luxurious automobile (Russian made, I think). Discretely privileged, careful not to overplay our status. How feted by fortune I felt. If only they knew what my “day job” was back in the States.

My interviewee, who was one of the first to graduate from the Lunacharsky State Theatrical Institute, had spoken in gracious tones about the good life under socialist big tops. A paycheck every week, a nice pension to look forward to. Freedom and time to create new acts, renew old turns. And for some, the opportunity to tour the world and reap international acclaim.

On a research mission for my book, Circus Rings Around Russia, I’d just taken in another imposing circus performance, during which the young man now at the wheel of his car had astonished me with a most endearing and clever novelty: a flirtatious elephant wagging the tail of a tiger with its big trunk. So simple, and yet so wonderful. The kind of a moment we who frequent such amusements live for.

The trainer who after the show had turned himself into my personal chauffeur was none other than Mstislav Zapashny, today's director of the Russian State Circus Company. Our conversation continued as we motored over the streets of Moscow. Clearly, the subtext of Mstislav’s remarks compared the utopian Soviet sawdust scene to all the other places on the map where acrobats and tiger trainers struggled to eck out a living.

“The possibilities of our artists are unlimited,” said Mstislav, relaxed and polite, proud and grateful.

Not so "unlimited" any more. Now, Zapashny, who manages some 40 circuses throughout the country, is fighting for a little of the respect and a lot of the old government money that he and his circus colleagues once took for granted when Soyuzgostsirk operated over sixty permanent arenas. That was before the collapse of the Soviet Union ten years later. Now, Zapashny is telling Izvestia Daily that what remains of that once-thriving phenomenon, unprecedented in size and scope, teeters on the edge of oblivion. Circuses are “counting very much on government support,” he warns.

The gifted animal man argues that the circus deserves as much backing as the opera and ballet companies which play the Bolshoi Theatre, itself currently closed down for a $700 million state-funded renovation. “The Bolshoi is a global brand, nobody disputes that. But isn’t our circus just as strong a brand?”

Yes, Mstislav, at least it once was. No argument there. Cry, comrade, cry.

“The good tradition appears to be fading into the past. For some reason Russia’s presidents are leaving the circus to the side. And this is bad.”

As Zapashny sees it, circus entertainment is good for the soul, especially during times of great economic distress.

“Humanity has yet to invent a better antidepressant.”

When Zapashny drove up to the Ukraine Hotel that far away night to let me out, I thanked him and he drove off. Wonderful ride. Wonderful utopian interlude. Could either of us have guessed what a different road he would be driving thirty years later?


[Photos taken in 1979, from the top: Street scene in Moscow (that's my favorite of all the photos I took during my trip); Sergei and Tanya Matveeva, at the Kremlin Place of Congresses -- they took me that evening to see a ballet; Showbiz David in the circus museum at the Leningrad circus building; In a circus lobby; at the Leningrad Circus museum -- Museum director Alexander Levin, center; circus director Alexei Sonin, far right; Mstislav Zapashny, 2002, from a Buckles Blog/Henry Penndorf 2007 posting]

5.25.09