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Igor Moiseyev, 101, Choreographer, Dies
Igor Moiseyev, the master choreographer who created a new form of theatrical folk dance in Russia and whose troupe was one of the most popular dance companies of the 20th century, died yesterday in Moscow. He was 101.
His death, at a hospital where he had been unconscious for three days, was announced by the troupe’s director, Yelena Shcherbakova, the ITAR-Tass news agency reported. The Kremlin said that President Vladimir V. Putin expressed condolences.
The Moiseyev Dance Company’s energy, virtuosity, precision and ingenious distillation of folk styles from many lands set audiences cheering worldwide. When the troupe made its New York debut in 1958, presented by the impresario Sol Hurok at the Metropolitan Opera House, it became the first major Soviet dance group to perform in the United States. The visit helped usher in a new era of cultural exchange, formalized that year by an agreement signed by the United States and the Soviet Union.
John Martin, the dance critic of The New York Times, pronounced the New York debut “stupendous.” And Ed Sullivan gave the troupe national exposure during the same trip, presenting the dancers for a full hour on his television variety show, “Toast of the Town” (later renamed “The Ed Sullivan Show”).
Although Mr. Moiseyev’s choreography derived from folk sources, he created his works for professional dancers: as observers noted from the start, no peasants or villagers ever danced with such theatrical flair.
“Moiseyev is an astute folklorist and a good artist,” Mr. Martin wrote in 1958. “His company, 100 strong, is warm, vital, vivacious, remarkably trained, energetic beyond belief, and above all performers deluxe.”
Igor Aleksandrovich Moiseyev (pronounced moy-SAY-yeff) was born in Kiev, Ukraine, in 1906, the only child of a Russian lawyer and a French-Romanian seamstress. His family lived in Paris until he was 8, and throughout his life he spoke to Western journalists in fluent French.
After the family returned to Russia he studied ballet privately in Moscow, then entered the Bolshoi Ballet School in 1921. From 1924 to 1939 he was a member of the Bolshoi, sympathetic to the efforts of innovative Soviet choreographers of the 1920s and ’30s.
He developed his own interest in choreography, and his early ballets — among them “The Footballer” (1930), “Salammbô” (1932) and “Three Fat Men” (1935) — were noted for their experimentation, drama and characterization.
In 1936 Mr. Moiseyev was appointed dance director of the Moscow Theater of Folk Art, from which emerged, a year later, the Soviet Union’s first folk-dance ensemble. The troupe originally included many amateurs, but it soon employed professionally trained dancers. Officially known as the State Academic Folk Dance Ensemble of the Soviet Union, the troupe was usually billed in the West simply as the Moiseyev Dance Company.
Most of Mr. Moiseyev’s works were inspired by the traditions of the various regions in the Soviet Union. But he also created dances with Chinese, Cuban, Sicilian and Argentine themes, and in the early ’60s his dancers amused American audiences by performing the Virginia reel and a parody of rock ’n’ roll.
Mr. Moiseyev attributed his dancers’ virtuosity and versatility to their training in classical ballet, which he described in a 1970 interview as “the grammar of movement.”
“With ballet technique as a base,” he added, “one can do everything.”
He continued to work with traditional ballet companies throughout his career. In 1958, he staged his own version of “Spartacus” for the Bolshoi Ballet.
In addition to directing his folk ensemble, from 1967 to 1971 he headed a classical ballet troupe. Among its members were Alexander Filipov and Alexander Godunov, who both later joined American Ballet Theater in New York.
It was always Mr. Moiseyev’s folk dances that brought him international attention and acclaim. A favorite with audiences everywhere was the dramatic “Partisans,” which was both a tribute to Soviet guerrilla fighters in World War II and a technical tour de force that required dancers to imitate the gait of mounted soldiers whose “horses” were invisible under their cloaks.
The Moiseyev company consistently received critical acclaim. Yet as its repertory became familiar, the pioneering dancers of the original troupe were replaced by younger performers more concerned with technique than with motivating impulse. Reviewers began to notice limitations in the troupe’s aesthetic approach.
As a popular Soviet cultural export, the Moiseyev company was occasionally the target of American groups protesting Soviet policies. Most such demonstrations involved only picketing, but others turned violent. At a Moiseyev opening in September 1986, Russian members of the Jewish Defense League threw a tear gas canister into the audience at the Metropolitan Opera House, sending nearly 4,000 people streaming out of the hall.
Controversies also developed over the ideological content of Mr. Moiseyev’s work. Many Western critics found his happy folk to be in line with an accent on the positive required by Socialist Realism. A defender of expressive dramatic content in choreography, Mr. Moiseyev reiterated the dominant Soviet aesthetics of the cold war period when he deplored abstraction in ballet.
But Mr. Moiseyev, who refused to join the Communist Party, did more than parrot officially sanctioned views. In 1959 he was reprimanded by Soviet authorities for delivering a speech in which he maintained that American culture, far from being inherently decadent, was blessed with vigor. In 1967 he ruffled the Soviet authorities by asserting in a Pravda article that Soviet ballet was deadened by its preoccupation with princes and princesses and its unwillingness to tackle contemporary themes.
Mr. Moiseyev married the dancer Tamara Zeifert in 1940; she became his choreographic assistant. Other members of the company included their daughter, Olga Moiseyeva, and her husband, Boris Petrov. Mr. Moiseyev married a second time, and his wife is among his survivors, Ms. Shcherbakova said.
In poor health in recent years, he was rarely seen in public. But he appeared at a concert in Moscow last year to celebrate his 100th birthday. On his centenary, he received the Order of Merit, Russia’s highest civilian decoration. He had earlier been named People’s Artist of the U.S.S.R.. His other honors included the Dance Magazine Award in the United States, the Lenin Prize and three Stalin Prizes.
A creatively passionate man, Mr. Moiseyev said in a 1965 interview: “Everything I’ve done, I love. If you’re not in love, you can’t create. And if you’re calm when you’ve created something, you can rest assured that you’ve created nothing.”
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