The Dancing
Star:
Rudolf
Nureyev

There’s no shortage of superlatives to describe the life of the man often referred to as “the lord of dance”. There was his miserable childhood on the outskirts of Siberia. The almost miraculous encounter with dance at the age of seven, which turned young Rudolf’s life upside down. The return from the front after the Second World War of a father who shared little of his passion for ballet, judging it not virile enough. The escape to Moscow to audition for the prestigious Bolshoi Ballet company, which he passed with flying colours but was unable to join for lack of money. Then there was the Mariinsky Ballet, where he soon becomes an acclaimed soloist.

Then came the headlong rush: while on tour in Paris, Rudolf Nureyev eluded his Russian guards just before boarding a flight back to Moscow. With the Cold War in full swing, his defection to the West became one of his most celebrated pirouettes. On this side of the wall, he took to the most emblematic stages, danced with the most illustrious partners and established himself as the greatest male ballet dancer of all time, mastering both the classical repertoire and the inventions of admired contemporaries such as Maurice Béjart, Roland Petit and Martha Graham.

Rudolf Nureyev was an icon. He drew crowds. First in London, at Covent Garden, where his friendship with Margot Fonteyn became complete complicity onstage. Then at the Paris Opéra, where he formed another absolute duo with prima ballerina Sylvie Guillem. In his practice, he was extremely demanding, always ready to push his physical limits, to surpass himself and achieve perfection. As early as 1964, he transposed this rigour into his work as a choreographer. 

Behind the scenes, Rudolf Nureyev embodied the freedom of the Sixties and Seventies, just like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. Embracing the counter-culture, hippies and the revellers at the legendary Paris nightclub Le Palace, he attended every party and knew every kind of excess. His apartment at 23 Quai Voltaire was the scene of impromptu gatherings among great artists of all kinds. Rudolf Nureyev welcomed them amid the many artworks he collected, as well as the antique fabrics and kimonos he loved.

In the early Eighties, he was named the director of the Paris Opéra. He passed away in 1993, at 54 years old. His extraordinary, dazzling life aptly reflected Friedrich Nietzsche’s words: “One must have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”