来源 ：G007影视 2019-12-08 10:13:11|港富网19cfcc最快报码
Andrei Kramarevsky, who after a successful dance career in the Soviet Union left for the West in 1975 and became a much admired teacher at the School of American Ballet in New York, influencing generations of future stars, died on May 8 at his home in Manhattan. He was 90.
The school, where he taught from 1976 until he took emeritus status last year, confirmed the death.
Many who enjoyed Mr. Kramarevsky as Drosselmeyer in New York City Ballet’s seasonal productions of “George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker,” a role he performed until he was 85, may not have realized that he had also once danced for Joseph Stalin. And they also probably didn’t realize that his influence extended well beyond his own performances.
“The real impact was in the studio,” Peter Boal, who was in the school’s children’s division when Mr. Kramarevsky arrived and is now the artistic director of Pacific Northwest Ballet, said in a telephone interview.
Mr. Kramarevsky, Mr. Boal said, though almost 50 when he first took a class from him, didn’t merely talk about technique; he illustrated it.
“We were all awe-struck when he came in,” Mr. Boal said. “He would do eight or nine pirouettes in his sandals as he was demonstrating for us. He would just launch into these spectacular moments of technique and fire.”
Jonathan Stafford, a student of Mr. Kramarevsky — “Krammy” to all who knew him — in the 1990s and now artistic director of New York City Ballet and the school (which is an affiliate of it), recalled demanding but satisfying sessions.
“If you had a good class with Krammy you felt really good about yourself walking out of the studio,” he said by email, “because you knew the challenges that you had to overcome in order to have that good class.”
Andrei Kramarevsky was born on March 19, 1929, in Kharkov, in what is now Ukraine. His father, Lev, was head ballet master in Minsk, and his mother, Ludmilla Melchemko, was a ballerina there.
In 1938, he entered the choreographic school of the Bolshoi Theater. World War II interrupted his education, although, waiting out the war in Frunze, in Kyrgyzstan, where his father was then working, he found unexpected opportunities because the adult male dancers had all been drafted.
“Tall women danced the male roles dressed as men,” he recalled in a 2010 interview for the School of American Ballet’s oral history project. “I also danced. I was a bit tall at 13. At first I danced the children’s roles, then I began to dance the adult roles.”
He joined the Bolshoi around 1949 as part of the corps de ballet, soon advancing to be what he called “a semi-character dancer.” He was promoted to principal dancer in 1959.
Early in his tenure with the Bolshoi, Stalin would sometimes come to the Moscow theater, shielded in a special box.
“The public never knew that he was there,” Mr. Kramarevsky recalled. “He came, watched for a while and disappeared.”
He recounted a time when a colleague was summoned by the authorities after a performance of the 1932 ballet “Flames of Paris,” about the French Revolution, that included a scene of revolutionary cannon fire.
“He asked: ‘Why? What did I do? What am I guilty of?’ ” Mr. Kramarevsky said. “They said, ‘You aimed the cannon at Comrade Stalin.’ He got five years.”
Mr. Kramarevsky left the Bolshoi in the late 1960s and embarked on a solo career, giving performances in which he not only danced but also sang and acted. And he began teaching occasionally. In 1975 he left the Soviet Union for Italy.
“I didn’t defect,” he maintained. “I left due to a lucky opportunity that came up.” A modern dancer who was a friend of Mr. Kramarevsky’s was leaving and supposedly had an uncle who was going to set him up with a restaurant; Mr. Kramarevsky, the friend said, could perform there.
The lucky opportunity turned out not to be so lucky — “Of course there was no restaurant,” Mr. Kramarevsky said — but in Rome he found some work teaching dance. In 1976 he went to New York, having heard of a school that George Balanchine and Lincoln Kirstein had founded there in 1934, the School of American Ballet. He paid a call on someone at the institution, armed with photographs showing his dance history, since all his official documents had been lost during his exit from the Soviet Union.
“She asked, ‘Could you give a class?’ ” he recalled. “I said, ‘Of course.’ There was a teacher who had called in sick that same day, and I gave a class.”
Whatever he did in that class, it impressed onlookers enough that they urged Balanchine to come watch him teach another.
“He just sits there, motionless and expressionless,” Mr. Kramarevsky said. “Then, about 10 minutes before the end of the class, he just gets up and leaves.”
“I thought that the jig was up,” he continued. “I go to change, and he’s standing there and says, ‘My dear, I’ve been waiting for you for 40 years.’ ” Mr. Kramarevsky was hired on the spot.
Mr. Kramarevsky is survived by his wife, Svetlana Bajramov; a daughter, Natalia Kramarevsky; and a stepson, Alexander Tressor.
Though past his prime dancing years by the time he arrived in the United States, Mr. Kramarevsky performed in secondary roles with New York City Ballet, characters who might help convey the story through pantomime and such. In a 1999 interview with The New York Times, he lamented that trends in ballet, both choreographic and financial, were reducing the number of such roles, which often went to older dancers.
He began performing Drosselmeyer in 1978 and was often singled out in “Nutcracker” reviews over the years.
“Although Mr. Kramarevsky was elegantly attired, his gray hair was disheveled,” Jack Anderson wrote in The Times in 1991. “Therefore it would have been easy to consider Drosselmeyer as nothing more than an elderly eccentric. But when Mr. Kramarevsky gestured, every wave of his arms commanded attention. It soon became obvious that Drosselmeyer was a powerful, but benign, magician.”
The part requires a rather strenuous climb up a ladder inside a clock tower.
“It is the most difficult moment of the entire role,” Mr. Kramarevsky said in the oral history, recorded when he was 81. “Young men — some four times younger; one is twice as young as I — ask to please slow it down. I say, ‘What else is there to do?’ I’ve been climbing for 33 years.”B:
港富网19cfcc最快报码“【是】【不】【是】【代】【表】【着】【这】【个】【世】【界】【有】【救】【了】？【现】【在】【能】【查】【到】【历】【史】【有】【没】【有】【发】【生】【变】【化】【么】？”【公】【爵】【问】【道】。 【大】【帝】【摇】【摇】【头】【道】：“【哪】【有】【这】【么】【快】，【以】【后】【再】【说】【吧】。【现】【在】【权】【杖】【到】【手】，【叛】【军】【又】【开】【始】【进】【攻】【帝】【都】，【这】【任】【务】【应】【该】**【不】【离】【十】【了】。” “【对】【了】，【你】【们】【谁】【知】【道】【现】【在】【进】【攻】【帝】【都】【的】【是】【哪】【个】【部】【队】？【巴】【里】【不】【是】【还】【在】【招】【兵】【买】【马】【么】。”【林】【远】【疑】【惑】【道】。 “【还】【能】
【而】【李】【家】【得】【知】【这】【件】【事】【情】【之】【后】，【会】【是】【什】【么】【态】【度】，【萧】【东】【城】【此】【时】【并】【不】【知】【道】。 【但】【是】【他】【能】【够】【想】【到】，【这】【个】【消】【息】【公】【布】【出】【来】，【自】【家】【集】【团】【的】【高】【层】【们】，【将】【会】【是】【什】【么】【反】【应】。 【果】【不】【其】【然】！ 【所】【有】【的】【领】【导】【高】【层】【们】，【都】【被】【这】【个】【事】【实】【给】【惊】【呆】【了】。 【万】【万】【不】【敢】【相】【信】【这】【件】【事】【会】【是】【真】【的】！ 【第】【一】【时】【间】【怀】【疑】【这】【是】【萧】【总】【为】【了】【想】【让】【儿】【子】【顺】【利】【接】【他】【的】【班】，【所】【以】
【郑】【丰】【谷】【家】【来】【了】【个】【老】【好】【看】【的】【俊】【俏】【公】【子】，【带】【着】【十】【几】【个】【侍】【卫】【随】【从】，【浩】【浩】【荡】【荡】【的】【可】【威】【风】【了】！ 【就】【是】【有】【点】【凶】，【一】【来】【就】【把】【郑】【丰】【年】【家】【的】【儿】【媳】【妇】【给】【打】【了】，【那】【一】【鞭】【子】【抽】【过】【去】，【差】【点】【没】【把】【人】【给】【从】【中】【劈】【裂】【了】【开】【了】！ 【啥】？【用】【鞭】【子】【咋】【能】【将】【人】【劈】【开】？【那】【是】【你】【当】【时】【没】【有】【在】【现】【场】，【我】【可】【是】【亲】【眼】【看】【见】【的】，【那】【鞭】【子】【飞】【了】【起】【来】，“【咻】”【的】【一】【声】【让】【我】【差】【点】【以】【为】【听】
【御】【丰】【泽】【有】【一】【双】【和】【御】【辰】【墨】【极】【为】【相】【似】【的】【眼】【睛】，【才】【几】【岁】【便】【有】【了】【与】【御】【辰】【墨】【相】【似】【的】【气】【质】。 “【步】【子】【迈】【开】，【手】【指】【用】【力】！” 【在】【御】【辰】【墨】【严】【厉】【的】【教】【导】【下】，【御】【丰】【泽】【舞】【起】【木】【剑】【来】【也】【像】【模】【像】【样】【的】，【顾】【千】【翎】【给】【舞】【的】【满】【头】【大】【汗】【的】【御】【丰】【泽】【擦】【了】【擦】【汗】【说】【道】：“【先】【休】【息】【一】【会】【再】【练】【吧】！” 【御】【辰】【墨】【似】【乎】【不】【赞】【同】【的】【说】【道】：“【慈】【母】【多】【败】【儿】，【朕】【觉】【得】【还】【是】【应】【该】【将】
，【伊】【藤】【家】【川】【似】【乎】【想】【起】【来】【了】【什】【么】。 “【什】【么】【问】【题】，【师】【父】？”，【伊】【藤】【雅】【美】【问】。 “【伊】【藤】【雅】【美】，【你】【以】【前】【小】【时】【候】【是】【不】【是】【生】【活】【在】【卡】【萨】【拉】【大】【漠】【附】【近】？”，【伊】【藤】【家】【川】【突】【然】【问】【了】【一】【句】。 “【卡】【萨】【拉】【大】【漠】？【对】，【应】【该】【是】【的】【吧】，【我】【算】【是】【半】【个】【安】【西】【人】【吧】，【小】【时】【候】【在】【西】【北】【的】【一】【个】【村】【庄】【里】，【那】【个】【村】【庄】【按】【地】【理】【位】【置】【划】【分】【应】【该】【就】【是】【在】【卡】【萨】【拉】【大】【漠】【附】【近】港富网19cfcc最快报码【这】【声】【音】【似】【乎】【是】【雕】【像】【发】【出】【来】【的】，【又】【似】【乎】【不】【是】。 【楚】【墨】【稚】【嫩】【的】【脸】【颊】【上】，【并】【没】【有】【任】【何】【的】【惊】【慌】，【他】【见】【过】【的】【大】【场】【面】【实】【在】【太】【多】【了】。 【楚】【墨】【从】【怀】【里】【拿】【出】【了】【一】【块】【黑】【色】【的】【碎】【片】，【这】【是】【他】【从】【红】【猴】【那】【里】【唤】【来】【的】。【蛮】【启】【开】【始】【的】【时】【候】，【他】【就】【能】【感】【受】【到】【这】【碎】【片】【上】【面】，【释】【放】【出】【的】【炙】【热】【感】【觉】，【一】【定】【另】【有】【原】【因】。 【他】【之】【前】【之】【所】【以】【说】，【他】【从】【苏】【铭】【拿】【里】【抢】【走】【了】
【翌】【日】，【京】【北】【高】【中】。 【平】【平】【常】【常】【的】【一】【天】，【平】【平】【常】【常】【的】【上】【学】。 【北】【川】【寺】【在】【京】【北】【的】【谣】【言】【现】【在】【也】【是】【越】【传】【越】【玄】【乎】【了】。 【因】【为】【北】【川】【寺】【翘】【课】【的】【次】【数】【实】【在】【太】【多】【了】。 【从】【开】【学】【到】【现】【在】【他】【至】【少】【有】【一】【个】【月】【的】【时】【间】【没】【有】【来】【上】【课】。 【那】【么】【这】【是】【不】【是】【就】【已】【经】【反】【应】【出】【学】【校】【已】【经】【无】【法】【管】【教】【北】【川】【寺】【了】【呢】？ 【甚】【至】【还】【有】【人】【说】【北】【川】【寺】【曾】【经】【提】【刀】【进】【入】【过】【校】
【千】【小】【小】【带】【着】【绿】【兮】【很】【快】【就】【来】【了】【位】【于】【东】【街】【的】【药】【铺】，【远】【远】【的】【就】【看】【到】【千】【护】【家】【对】【于】【店】【铺】【十】【分】【上】【心】，【什】【么】【都】【要】【亲】【自】【看】【着】，【时】【不】【时】【还】【自】【己】【动】【手】【去】【整】【理】。【看】【到】【这】【一】【幕】【的】【千】【小】【小】【鼻】【子】【不】【禁】【发】【酸】，【赶】【紧】【走】【过】【去】【拉】【住】【千】【护】【家】【的】【手】。 “【爹】” “【小】【小】【来】【了】，【等】【他】【们】【打】【扫】【完】【了】【你】【去】【看】【看】【还】【有】【什】【么】【需】【要】【的】？”【千】【护】【家】【拉】【着】【千】【小】【小】【嫩】【嘟】【嘟】【的】【小】【手】。