Publishers Weekly, Oct 1, 2001 v248
i40 p48
I, MAYA PLISETSKAYA. (Review)
COPYRIGHT 2001 Cahners Business Information
MAYA PLISETSKAYA, TRANS. FROM THE RUSSIAN BY ANTONINA W. BOUIS,
FOREWORD BY TIM SCHOLL. Yale Univ., $35 (448p) ISBN 0-300-08857-4
This is much more than an artistic memoir -- it is a courageous account
of an era. Plisetskaya was born in Moscow in 1925, joined the Bolshoi
Ballet in 1943, and became one of its most acclaimed prima ballerinas (and
one of the best-known in the West), performing into the 1990s. But as she
makes clear, her life has been one of daily struggle. Plisetskaya's
father, a rising apparatchik in the coal industry, was executed in 1935.
Her mother, an actress, was then sentenced to eight years in prison. Taken
in by a ballerina aunt, Pisetskaya was allowed to continue her dance
training; but a pattern of persecution by authorities had been
established. Even after she was well established at the Bolshoi, and
despite years of pleading, Plisetskaya was forbidden to tour outside the
country until 1959, and then she went under tight guard, always returning
home, even during the years of the notable defections of Nureyev, Makarova
and Baryshnikov. In Moscow, she was trotted out to perform for visiting
dignitaries (Mao, Rib bentrop and Tito among them) and was routinely
humiliated and artistically encumbered by a punitive bureaucracy.
Plisetskaya says she's unable to put into words exactly why she never
defected -- her marriage to a Russian composer was part of it. Every page
attests to bitter, poignant regrets. Her account is sometimes rambling,
sometimes garbled in translation; but Plisetskaya makes horrifyingly clear
the life of an honored artist in her homeland: the artistic paucity (in
contrast with the "Balanchine years" in the U.S.) is one
element; the degradation of daily life for Soviet citizens is another; and
Plisetskaya, as is her reputation, pulls no punches here. (Oct.)
Forecast: Plisetskaya is a major ballet star, and her memoirs will sell
well among dance lovers forbidden to tour outside the country until 1959,
and then she went under tight guard, always returning home, even during
the years of the notable defections of Nureyev, Makarova and Baryshnikov.
In Moscow, she was trotted out to perform for visiting dignitaries (Mao,
Ribbentrop and Tito among them) and was routinely humiliated and
artistically encumbered by a punitive bureaucracy. Plisetskaya says she's
unable to put into words exactly why she never defected -- her marriage to
a Russian composer was part of it. Every page attests to bitter, poignant
regrets. Her account is sometimes rambling, sometimes garbled in
translation; but Plisetskaya makes horrifyingly clear the life of an
honored artist in her homeland: the artistic paucity (in contrast with the
"Balanchine years" in the U.S.) is one element; the degradation
of daily life for Soviet citizens is another; and Plisetskaya, as is her
reputation, pulls no punc hes here. (Oct.)
Forecast: Plisetskaya is a major ballet star, and her memoirs will sell
well among dance lovers. |