Waiting to be released from an Amsterdam traffic light, the corner of my eye spun my head left. There they were … two magic little words I never thought I’d see … Bolshoi Ballet. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I strained to read the poster. Carre Theatre. Swan Lake. Showing Soon. My heart leaped into the air.

Later that evening …
“Honey, could we go to the Ballet? The Bolshoi are in town and they’re performing Swan Lake, The Bright Stream and Spartacus” I asked my husband.
“But we’ve already seen Swan Lake … two years ago with the Tschaikovsky Perm Ballet at the RAI.” I was amazed how quickly he recalled the ballet company and the venue!

“Wow. Um, well, how about Spartacus?”
“What’s that about?” Marcel asked.
“Uh, I dunno. I guess it’s like the Gladiator or something …”
“In a ballet?” he asked incredulously.

Feeling my chances of seeing the world-famous ballet company slipping away, I contemplated using the “… but I watch the grand prix with you … okay, not always, but sometimes … ” angle, but my thoughts dragged me back to primary school.

I’d always wanted to do ballet, and after hearing the stories about Nureyev & Fonteyn, the Royal Ballet and of course, the Bolshoi, I dreamed of becoming a Prima Ballerina, accepting gorgeous red roses with a graceful curtsy to an appreciative audience. “Encore, encore!” I could hear them shouting.

At that time, circumstances prevented me from following this dream and then I grew too tall. But that didn’t stop me from eagerly, and with a little jealousy, learning some basics from girls who were taking lessons. And then, as if reading my thoughts and seeing the childhood dreams in my eyes, Marcel agreed.
“Spartacus, then.”
“Aghh” I squealed, “you’re the best!!”
I instantly booked two tickets.

A couple of days later, the morning news announed that the Bolshoi were in town, and interviewed a couple of Dutch ballet dancers who’d been permitted to watch the rehearsals. In spite of the typical Dutch sobriety, they enthusiastically relayed how impressed they’d been. The report further explained that it had been 23 years since the Bolshoi were last in Holland, and it was they who invented Swan Lake, showing some beautiful excerpts.

My eyes opened so wide, that Marcel could have tripped over the excitement.
“Okay, Swan Lake too.”
What a husband!!

Swan Lake, 19th July 2008 at 20h00

We were both very excited to visit the Royal Carre Theatre in Amsterdam. If not the best theatre, then it’s one of the very best in the Netherlands. We were curious. And also hoping that the seats were more comfy than in other theatres we’ve attended.

We stowed our car some 500m away in a ridiculously expensive underground parking lot, and strolled down Amstel road alongside other smartly attired guests. Tourists looked at us funny. We all smiled knowingly, clutching our ticket vouchers, scanning for darting cyclists. The canal was abuzz with sloops (low open boats) chugging by, gently rocking the house boats to and fro.

Since moving to Europe, we’ve become rather accustomed to standing in queues. The ticket voucher exchange was no exception. But the vibe was good, everyone chattering away pensively. Once the tickets appeared, we headed inside. What beauty stood before us, pointing in a semi-circle towards the stage. Wow. The details. The frescos. The drop. The peanut gallery falls away in steps, leaving the stage about 8-10 meters below us, which if you were so inclined, could cause a serious case of vertigo. One slip over the balcony and who’d be the dying swan?

The show did not disappoint. Odette’s performance was so beautiful, it made me cry. A number of times. Marcel chivalrously handed me his hanky, and I tried not to blow my nose too much, sniveling like a lady. I could not believe it was possible to make such beautiful hand gestures, her hands and body moved like a wild swan. The others were amazing, but Odette (Svetlana Zakharova) was the star performer.

Marcel and I gasped at her 6 o’clocks on points, where she stands tippy-toes on one leg while the other leg brushes her ear. Incredible. And how about the other swans? Motionless in position for what seemed like hours. Suddenly I didn’t feel so bad about missing out on being a ballerina. I could see the dedication, effort and years of repetition that enabled them to do that.

For Odette to remain prima ballerina, she’d have no time for anything else. She deserved every encore, bravo and red rose thrown onto the stage. As the curtains closed, I thundered my applause in her direction, happy with my chosen path.

To read more about Swan Lake and its history, visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swan_Lake

Spartacus, 27th of July at 14h00

A beautiful, hot sunny day made our jackets overbearing and the Amstel canal never more inviting. We escaped to the cool of the theatre, where again we appreciated its beauty and comfortable seats, as we settled into an unknown performance.

The basic story is that Spartacus leads a battle of rebellious gladiators and slaves against ancient Rome. Premiered in 1968, Spartacus is now a classic, but at the time, it must have been a shocker! The nearly all-male company caught us by surprise … it’s rather unheard of in a ballet! Not to mention the few rather risque scenes that were attune to the late 60′s but made my eyes pop a tad.

Brilliantly performed, but for me, the style was a little too “modern”. Then again I’m just a classic romantic at heart … what can I say?

Uh, well … we’ve just booked tickets to see Cinderella performed by the Tschaikovsky Perm Ballet at the RAI  :-)

Have you seen any good ballet recently? Had the privilege of watching the Bolshoi? Let us know.