The Moscow City Ballet’s swans have returned to Taipei for five shows at the National Theater.
At 27, the company is still a babe compared to its more famous Russian counterparts, the Mariinsky and Bolshoi ballet companies, but it has established a name for itself with competent, if somewhat stodgy, productions of the romantic classics, and its dancers come from state-runs schools in Russia and former Soviet states such as Ukraine.
The private company — a rarity in the Russian ballet world — was founded by former Bolshoi dancer-turned-choreographer Victor Smirnov-Golovanov, who died two years ago. His widow, Ludmila Nerubashenko, a former soloist with the company, is now artistic director.
Photo courtesy of moscow city ballet
The troupe’s strength is in its well-disciplined corps de ballet, crucial if you are sticking to the classics that need flocks of swans, Willies, village maidens or snowflakes who often have to perform two shows a day, as they will tomorrow and Sunday. The principal’s roles are often overshadowed by the mishmash of choreography they are expected to execute, combining the original Lev Ivanov-Marius Petip footwork with additions by Smirnov-Golovanov or other Russian choreographers.
One of the unique features of Smirnov-Golovanov’s production of Swan Lake is Odile’s half-black, half-white tutu that highlights the duality of her role, as she shows the white side to the prince, but the black to the audience.
Taiwanese ballet fans who cannot get enough of Swan Lake would appear to be in luck, as another frequent visitor to these shores, the Russian Festival Ballet, is coming next month with Swan Lake, The Nutcracker and Romeo and Juliet. However, the Moscow City Ballet’s production has better sets and staging.
Photo courtesy of mowcow city ballet
■ Tonight at 7:30pm, tomorrow at 2:30pm and 7:30pm and Sunday at 1pm and 6:30pm, National Theater (國家戲劇院), 21-1 Zhongshan S Rd, Taipei City (台北市中山南路21-1號)
■Tickets are NT$400 to 3,800, available online at www.kham.com.tw or at convenience store ticket kiosks
Behind a car repair business on a nondescript Thai street are the cherished pets of a rising TikTok animal influencer: two lions and a 200-kilogram lion-tiger hybrid called “Big George.” Lion ownership is legal in Thailand, and Tharnuwarht Plengkemratch is an enthusiastic advocate, posting updates on his feline companions to nearly three million followers. “They’re playful and affectionate, just like dogs or cats,” he said from inside their cage complex at his home in the northern city of Chiang Mai. Thailand’s captive lion population has exploded in recent years, with nearly 500 registered in zoos, breeding farms, petting cafes and homes. Experts warn the
No one saw it coming. Everyone — including the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) — expected at least some of the recall campaigns against 24 of its lawmakers and Hsinchu Mayor Ann Kao (高虹安) to succeed. Underground gamblers reportedly expected between five and eight lawmakers to lose their jobs. All of this analysis made sense, but contained a fatal flaw. The record of the recall campaigns, the collapse of the KMT-led recalls, and polling data all pointed to enthusiastic high turnout in support of the recall campaigns, and that those against the recalls were unenthusiastic and far less likely to vote. That
The unexpected collapse of the recall campaigns is being viewed through many lenses, most of them skewed and self-absorbed. The international media unsurprisingly focuses on what they perceive as the message that Taiwanese voters were sending in the failure of the mass recall, especially to China, the US and to friendly Western nations. This made some sense prior to early last month. One of the main arguments used by recall campaigners for recalling Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) lawmakers was that they were too pro-China, and by extension not to be trusted with defending the nation. Also by extension, that argument could be
Aug. 4 to Aug. 10 When Coca-Cola finally pushed its way into Taiwan’s market in 1968, it allegedly vowed to wipe out its major domestic rival Hey Song within five years. But Hey Song, which began as a manual operation in a family cow shed in 1925, had proven its resilience, surviving numerous setbacks — including the loss of autonomy and nearly all its assets due to the Japanese colonial government’s wartime economic policy. By the 1960s, Hey Song had risen to the top of Taiwan’s beverage industry. This success was driven not only by president Chang Wen-chi’s
RSS