Farouk Ruzimatov, An Interview
by Jack WalkerHe is Principal Dancer and Assistant Artistic Director of The Kirov Ballet Company at the Mariinsky Theatre, St. Petersburg, Russia.
Born January 26, 1963 in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, he entered the St. Petersburg Vaganova Academy in 1973, graduated in 1981, then went directly into the Kirov company.
Photographs
(Use your "BACK" button to return to this page after viewing each photo.)[link offline] Farouk Ruzimatov as "Le Corsaire" in a the final pose from the male variation, illustrating his beautiful line and incredible extension.
Farouk Ruzimatov and Altynai Asylmuratova in the divertissement from Petipa's ballet "Paquita."
Farouk Ruzimatov appearing to fly in the role of "Le Corsaire."
The Interview
November 8, 1995
St. Petersburg, Russia
He sits bolt straight at the edge of a hard-seat chair, knees far apart -- a natural and comfortable position for a classically trained ballet dancer.
Because of a recent scandal alleging booking payoffs that caused top officials of the Kirov Ballet and Opera to be escorted to police headquarters, and because of resulting raging rumors, I want to put Farouk at ease.
Walker:
I am here to talk about ballet, not politics.
Ruzimatov:
Good. I am very happy to hear that.
[He is not put at ease... but he is focused and attentive. I decide just to start asking questions.]
You have danced all the major classical roles. Which ones show you at
your best?
There is no especially best. Each ballet is important for me. Each one is
different. At each stage of my development I have concentrated on a different
ballet. First the pure classical, like Swan Lake, and later the more robust,
like Don Quixote.
In that case, which role do you most enjoy dancing?
I cannot exactly answer that. There is no looking back. There is only continued
growth. Early in my career I focused on technique, but now it's the emotional
interpretation that I find most meaningful. I'm a dancer, but now I am an actor
first.
Is "being an actor first" compatible with the strict classical
tradition of Russian ballet? For example, you changed the choreography in Don
Quixote about four years ago, making the role of Basil more technically
difficult and more suited to your style. However, I understand there was some
conflict with a few people in the Kirov who believed that Russian classical
ballets should not be changed in any detail.
[Farouk seems agitated by this question and answers it with vigor.]
Every dancer has changed the choreography in Don Quixote. Chabukiani,
Baryshnikov, Vasiliev. It is natural to change it. I did nothing others have not
done. There is no conflict in this. Of course, if I were to change Giselle or
Swan Lake it would be different. There are almost reverent classical traditions
behind these. However, Don Quixote has a different tradition -- that is to say,
the tradition is for the dancer to make small changes so that the role best
suits his individual abilities and interpretation. This improves the overall
look and feel of the ballet. It improves the style and character of this ballet.
Where do you find renewed inspiration for every performance?
I concentrate on the music. It's the music that inspires me. The power and the
life I find in the music keeps me from slipping into low energy.
Do you use personal experience for inspiration?
The dancer cannot put his personal life into his work. It's too dangerous. The
energy in the art is greater than any individual's meager life. The dancer can
shape his work with personal development, and in fact he must. However, if a
dancer tries to use his personal feelings as inspiration for performance after
performance he will be consumed by the art... even to the point where the art
may kill him. I think you are aware of examples in history where this has
happened.
Eight years ago in a TV interview you said that to dance like
Baryshnikov would make you happy. Is this still true?
Eight years ago Baryshnikov was the best -- everyone wanted to dance like him.
Also, eight years ago I was in the early part of my professional career. I was
exploring the repertoire and Baryshnikov was a wonderful example of someone who
had found his own life within the classic tradition. Every person must develop
his unique self, and I understand fully that it is impossible to be somebody
else. A fool may duplicate the technique, but he cannot duplicate the spirit of
another person. I understand that I must find my own self, and I must manifest
this self in my dance.
In the tradition of classical dance, isn't it a goal to be like everyone
else, so to speak... to imitate as closely as possible the perfect classic look
and style of movement?
Of course there is a classical line, etc., that is taught. In fact, one goal is
to match this line in the most effective way possible with the natural and
different bodies and specific talents of each dancer. But this is not what I was
speaking about.
I apologize. Maybe you can help me understand.
Maybe you already understand and just want me to talk more. Hm?
Maybe the cold St. Petersburg air has made my brain numb, and I really
don't understand.
[Farouk smiles faintly and noticeably relaxes. I learn another day that he
has great sense of humor, can impersonate other peoples' voices and has a
penchant for practical jokes.]
I'll answer your question. Let's imagine that a dancer admires the technique of
a certain star. There are two reactions. First, if he possesses the skill, he
can duplicate the technique. But in this case he puts himself in a glass box. He
is a fly in a glass box. He can do wonderful manipulations within the space he
has, but he cannot penetrate the glass. Copying another's style and technique
puts him in this glass box. There is no energy escaping, no energy across the
proscenium to make a connection with the audience.
In a second case, there is the dancer with raw, wonderful talent who is guided by base, sexual-like energy. This dancer might capture the magic of the star and might occasionally create thrills for an audience, but there is a lack of substance or foundation or consistency that solid training and technique provide.
Neither of these examples seems ideal.
No, of course not. But there is another path for the dancer of the second type.
He goes through his years of training and periods of imitation, and then he
embarks on the adventure of finding himself. This dancer develops his mind. He
studies art and literature and life and finds his place among these. He learns
who he is and uses his talent and training to express himself in his dance.
As I told you, my inspiration for performance comes the music. But this
music is like a generator that brings the person I am alive.
If am no more than a technician, this is all that I will ever show an audience.
If I have developed myself mentally, emotionally and spiritually, this will come
out through my dance. This is the energy that crosses the footlights and reaches
the audience and makes a connection. Only in this case is self-realization for a
dancer possible. And the self-realized dancer connects with the self-realized
person in the audience. It is the things that I have in common with an audience
that makes the connection between us. Extended limbs and aggressive leaps are
things definitely not in common between us. The audience sits passively. I use
my technique as tools to communicate the personal development I have inside me.
If I stop my development I will die as a meaningful artist.
In regard to technique, I understand that during the first years of your
training, you had some problems. Specifically, you were unusually small for your
age, and you were unable to arch your feet or point your toes.
This is true. As for my small size, I could only wait until I grew. I am still
not a giant. As for my feet, they were the biggest problem. Every night before
bed I rolled them on a bottle, making them arch around it. My efforts were
rewarded. No matter what the problem is, a positive attitude and hard work
usually pay the biggest dividends. Sometimes now I think I would like to be as
concerned about simple details as when I was younger, but it seems life gets too
complicated to maintain such a narrow focus.
From talking to people at the theater, I learned that you are very
serious in your work, and sometimes separate yourself from others. Are you a
loner?
By my nature I do not like to be alone. However, it is necessary to separate
sometimes to find new horizons, new direction, and new development within me. I
believe that the only way to achieve success in work is to be very serious about
it, to set goals and take them seriously.
Do you have patience with the people who come to work without a serious
attitude?
As far as I'm concerned, there is no place here for these people.
Have you always had this serious attitude?
In ballet school there was strong competition between the students. Each wanted
to show the others how good he was. I think this led all of us to take what we
were doing very seriously.
The other evening I saw you on television dancing a work by Maurice
Bejart: Death of a Poet. I believe this piece was originally created for
Bejart's very good friend and companion, Jorge Don?
Yes, that's true.
Did you know Jorge Don?
Yes, I was acquainted with him, but I'm sorry to say that I never had the
chance to work with him.
In your Death of a Poet there were similarities in choreography
and style to the version danced by Jorge Don, but in other ways you performed a
completely different work.
Yes. In my preparation I watched videotapes of Jorge Don. I had never done this
before. However, I was able to do it this time only because I knew him. I could
understand some of the sense of what he was saying in his dance, and I applied
this to my work. However, the basis of my dance was primarily from within
myself, using my own strengths and understanding. In my version I felt a dual
tribute, one to the original poet about whom Bejart created the choreography for
Jorge Don and a second one to Jorge Don himself who danced the piece so
emotionally and brilliantly.
I'd like to ask about your time at the American Ballet Theater in New
York. I believe you were there about six months, right after the end of the
Soviet Union.
Yes.
Why did you come back to Russia?
Western experience gave me the awareness that here in Russia -- here where I
received my education, here where I grew as an artist, here where I first found
success -- was the only place where I could find uninterrupted inspiration. In
New York there were individual opportunities for me, but I did not feel
connected to a tradition. I did not have a base or foundation under me. At the
Kirov we have three layers of dancers: beginners or juniors, dependable and
talented professionals, and experts or masters with experience and dedication.
This gives the theater the ability to grow into the future. This team of
developing dancers gives me energy.
There are roots underneath to feed me -- the Vaganova Academy, the young dancers, the Russian traditions -- roots that are part of me. I would not have understood this if I had not worked in the West where I was separate from a unified group. This understanding allows me to tap into the power of the team and the tradition, and it gives me renewal, a feeling of rebirth, and it gives me inspiration.
You are now an administrator -- the Kirov Ballet Assistant Artistic
Director -- as well as a principal dancer. How does this dual role affect you?
I am first a dancer. My good friend and partner Makhar Vasiev [Company
Manager] is more the administrator and probably much better at it than I
would be. But I am concerned with the future of the company. The past five years
have been difficult. We have gone from a state supported system to a more
capitalistic situation. As is true for all artistic companies in the world, we
must find ways to sponsor ourselves. There have been a couple of well-publicized
scandals involving some officials, but they are behind us. I think my greatest
contribution to the company is my serious dedication to the work and to the art.
I can be an example to others coming up behind me. And one other thing, my
additional duties keep me in the theater longer. But this is my home, this is
where I love to be, so this is not bad.
What are your personal plans for growth as an artist?
As I already mentioned, I have explored the entire classical repertoire. Now I
would like to do a new, modern ballet.
Is there a certain choreographer you have plans to work with?
There is no one I know of now. When the time is right, the person will appear
who I will collaborate with. Dance is a triangular relationship between music, a
choreographer, and a dancer. The music is the first inspiration. But one must
dig deep into the music. Therefore, one must work with a choreographer with whom
there is a philosophical agreement and understanding about the energy within the
music. If there is no connection with this energy, and there is then no union of
the dancer with this energy, the dancer is trapped like the fly in the glass
box. When the time is right, I will meet the right choreographer.
You emphasize energy in the music. The strongest feeling many people get
is from sexual energy. Which is more powerful: sexual energy or artistic energy?
The energy of art. It is beyond the purely physical. This is where I feel my
development is now. Deep concentration allows me to find a higher level, beyond
the purely physical. It is different from sex which has a kind of energy that
can be copied or duplicated.
Dancing is often considered as only a physical endeavor. Of course there is very good reason to spend much effort on this aspect. However, I believe -- and I know from my experience -- that a general intellectual ability and a rounded education are important to be a successful dancer. Then the dancer must apply everything he is in a unified philosophical approach -- not a purely intellectual, technical or otherwise specific effort. And most important, no matter how good a dancer is, or what his past accomplishments, if he doesn't continue to develop himself, he will lose the connection with his audience.
What advice do you have for young dancers who admire you?
I must tell them that it's impossible to make themselves like me. They must
find their own unique selves. As a teacher my greatest success would be to help
other dancers find who they are inside. Talent alone is not enough. A dancer
must have a brain and a heart, and both must be developed to achieve excellence.
I remind Farouk that my time is up. I stand and thank him, and he jumps up and smiles. I ask to take his picture. At first he glares somberly, posing for the camera, but after I cajole him a bit his smile is back. Then the phone rings. Impatiently he grabs it, annoyed by the interuption. But it is an important call, so he nods to me, and off I go, back into the cold and snow of the St. Petersburg winter.
(Photographs above: Farouk Ruzimatov dances a solo from the pas de deux in Diana and Acteon.)
Interview with Makhar Vasiev
Copyright © 1996 Jack Walker. All rights reserved. P.O. Box 1816, Burbank, CA 91507, U.S.A. e-mail: jack@kirov.com