Nureyev

CS What significance does Nureyev hold within your body of work?

KS It’s quite significant, as it happened at a very strange and challenging time in my life. At the same time, it was a fascinating journey and a significant challenge. The idea for the ballet was proposed by Vladimir Urin, the head of the Bolshoi Theatre. He wanted to create a production for an anniversary of Rudolf Nureyev.

CS How did you come to meet Ilya Demutsky, and what led you to choose him as the composer for your production of Nureyev?

KS Prior to Nureyev, I was working on an opera production. I wanted a renowned composer for the music and had lengthy negotiations. Ultimately, we couldn’t collaborate, and I was looking for a young composer—eventually I found him—through Facebook. He had just won a major award for a symphony inspired by a member of Pussy Riot, Maria Alyokhina, and her final speech in court. It was quite remarkable music and the composition stood out for its quality besides the political significance. He immediately was on board for Nureyev. I later learned he had studied composition in San Francisco. He was young, almost boyish, and no one would expect such a huge score from him, but he delivered brilliantly.

CS How did you strike a balance between artistic freedom and historical accuracy in Nureyev? How much is invented versus strictly following his biography?

KS Artistic freedom relies on accuracy. To be free, you need knowledge. If you understand the topic thoroughly and know what you’re doing, it’s much easier to achieve creative freedom. I had to read all the books and sources I could find about Nureyev. I knew him as a famous dancer, refugee, immigrant, and anti-Soviet figure, but I didn’t know much beyond that. For me, it was quite an impressive journey into an unknown world. When I started exploring his world, I found incredible depth. I read extensively, had conversations with people who worked with him in Paris, and discovered the complexities of his life. For instance, I decided to add two letters written to him and let them, as one, be read out during the piece. One of these letters was written by Natalia Makarova, and I paired it with another letter by Alla Osipenko, combining them into a single narrative to create a dialogue that bridges the present with the past.

CS After diving so deeply into Nureyev’s biography, it’s clear he was not only a world-renowned artist but also a complex and difficult character. Seeing all that he accomplished after his dancing career —choreographing, acting in films, and eventually conducting— was fascinating. You capture this beautifully in your production. Nureyev was such a multifaceted character, and not everyone was a fan of him. What does his personal life mean to you, personally?

KS Well, of course, aside from showing his controversial side, it was important for me to highlight his intense feeling for life and what it means to be alive. He was a workaholic, just like me, so we share that trait. He was completely obsessed with dancing, practicing almost every single day of the year — with almost no breaks or intervals. Through his dedication, he built a successful financial life from dancing. He was also fortunate to emerge at a time when media started playing such a significant role in society. Alongside other Hollywood celebrities, he became a tabloid sensation and a TV star.

CS He seems to be one of the most vain artists in history— everything revolves around him, and he comes across as extremely selfish. Do you admire him as an artist, or do you view him more critically?

KS I think I see him realistically. To create a biopic, even a partially accurate one, you don’t need to separate the good and the bad aspects of a personality. It’s better to meld them into each other. And, of course, we’re interested in him because he’s controversial. People aren’t always drawn to angels; often, we’re more fascinated by controversial figures. Sometimes, we even prefer the «bad guys». Nureyev is a prime example of the complexity of human nature. He was a brilliant artist, but today, we’d probably call him toxic.

CS I remember when you had the premiere of Nureyev at the Bolshoi. Many people in the West were talking about it. Then we heard the huge scandal that after the general rehearsal, the production was apparently not going to be shown and would be cancelled immediately. Shortly afterward, Vladimir Urin announced, «It just needs to be reworked. It will come out later.»

KS I guess there were a lot of political maneuvers and tricks involved. It was a complicated and controversial moment in Urin’s career because his contract with the ministry hadn’t been signed yet. He feared that if the scandal surrounding Nureyev escalated, they wouldn’t renew his contract. That’s why he wanted to postpone it or rework it. The ballet was absolutely ready, even better prepared than some other openings. It was the pressure from the political forces. At the time, there was a balance of power in Russia between aggressive, conservative elements and more liberal ones, and Nureyev became one of the points of contention. The production portrayed a queer, anti-Soviet, pro-Western immigrant, which made it a symbolic statement. For a moment, the liberal forces prevailed in this situation. But later on, with the war and the drastic shift in Russia’s policies and mood, they eventually failed.

CS Despite the scandal and the controversies surrounding the production, it was an overwhelming success. I remember watching several performances there, and Nureyev was by far the biggest triumph. The audience applauded endlessly, and you could truly see how much the people in Moscow adored this production, even though it stood in stark contrast to the political climate of the time.

KS It was quite a surreal moment. I was sitting under house arrest on the same day as the Bolshoi premiere, and in the audience were people who had instigated the attacks against me, alongside those who supported me. They were all there, applauding and giving a standing ovation, as you saw. And I was sitting at home, under house arrest, asking myself, «What is happening to me in this strange, absurd life?»

CS Nureyev was removed from the Bolshoi’s repertoire in 2023. What does that decision reveal about the current cultural and political climate in Russia?

KS It’s tied to Russia’s anti-LGBTQ+ laws. The country first passed the anti-LGBTQ+ law, which declared LGBTQ+ individuals as extremists and terrorists, making their existence illegal. In this context, the ballet, by openly showcasing a gay, queer person who becomes successful and powerful, while manifesting his queer identity, was said to support ‹non-traditional values›. For the Russian authorities, canceling Nureyev was an attempt to destroy his legacy, to erase his character for the second time in history, to suppress his example of defiance and success as an openly queer figure. Unfortunately, this aligns with a broader cultural regression. But look, it’s what you expect from a country that starts a war against a neighboring country, and where the majority of the population is silenced. So, honestly, I’m not surprised. But I’m surprised that we managed to do the production in the first place, that there was a gap between one kind of darkness and another, which allowed us to create this. It’s absolutely mysterious— and, let’s say, a miracle.

CS It is a miracle, and you reached a lot of people with your work—truly amazing. Nureyev was an artist who went into exile for his artistic freedom. And now you’re living in exile in Berlin. Do you see any parallels between Nureyev’s defection from the Soviet Union and your own experience, especially in the context of the current situation with Russia?

KS It’s not about drawing a parallel between him and me and speaks more about Russian politics—it keeps repeating the same cycles over and over. First, they expel and reject their greatest artists. They hurt them, they hate them, they destroy their legacy, only to celebrate them posthumously. All the poets, writers, dancers, and creators of Russian culture were killed, destroyed, or exiled by the government, by Russia itself. This is a normal pattern now. Russia is trapped in its own cycle, its own tragedy. It’s something I truly mourn—the ideological repetition of the same mistakes.

CS Russia has been a country that has produced some of the finest, and strongest art in the world. Do you believe art can still challenge Russia’s status quo?

KS It’s a nation with immense cultural wealth, where many talented and gifted individuals were born and shaped. Perhaps it’s precisely because of the harsh regime that some people survived, and in doing so, they gained even more strength to fight for their art, for their own expression. Art cannot thrive in a state of war. We don’t know how long this situation will last, but after the war, there will be a long period of darkness. It will take many years to return to something resembling normal life, where people can live without fear. Fear is the main enemy of art. When you fear for your life, for what you’re doing, or for what you’re saying, it destroys all your desires or ability to create anything.

CS What makes Nureyev’s life and work still relevant today? How do you interpret his legacy in contemporary art today?

KS His life was so rich and significant, exemplifying the triumph of artistic and creative power. It serves as a model for how to live, and sometimes also for how not to live. However, today, it’s impossible to replicate the intensity of his life. He was exceptional, absolutely unique in creating this kind of singular presence. He revolutionized the concept of male dancing and the idea of male sexuality through art. He redefined what it meant to be a male dancer and even influenced the costumes worn by male dancers today. Many dancers don’t realize that the costumes they wear were inspired by Nureyev’s ideas. His journey represents the ultimate example of artistic freedom. He didn’t just create ballets. He invited choreographers and artists into his universe, mixing genres and artistic branches, challenging the boundaries of art. This is the essence of modern artistic behavior—refusing to be confined to one category but instead fusing everything into something new.

Taken from the 25/26 season booklet.