|
This is the latest review by Clement Crisp of Tsiskaridze's performance at the Mariinsky Festival:<P>FINANCIAL TIMES, 13 March 2002<P>"... Then Scheherazade, or a madcap simulacrum thereof. The Bakst set looks reasonable and glows with macaw colours. The Kirov's artists know exactly how to make sense of the hot-house emotions of the harem - Vladimir Ponomarov's every gesture as the Sultan has silent-cinema power - and Nikolai Tsiskaridze (a guest from the Bolshoi) joined Irma Nioradze in the most extravagantly erotic piece of scenery-chewing any devotee of camp could desire. <BR>Nioradze is a very intelligent actress - we believe in this Zobeide from the very first as spoiled, petulant, commanding. Tsiskaridze, released from the slave's quarters, bursts upon us (and Zobeide) in a sub-Bakstian fantasy of gold and black, sequins, jewels, pearl shoulder-straps and a torrent of dancing. <BR>Heaven, and the ghost of Mikhail Fokine, knows what all this has to so with the original Scheherazade, but these artists blazed with lust, and generated enough passion to show that though this mad old ballet is a turnip ghost in other hands, when danced with such imaginative bravura, such sexual allure, it goes beyond hilarious kitsch to become theatrical art of the most intoxicating kind.<BR>Nioradze makes every pose a declaration of sexual allure. Tsiskaridze, as much in love with his audience as with Zobeide, produced marvels of pantherine leaps and crouching consumed-by-desire falls, and tore the place apart. It may not be Fokine, but who cares?.." <BR>
|