George Tsypin: “Poetry is the Denial of Materiality”
"I Love You, Peter’s Great Creation..." is stage designer George Tsypin’s first ballet at the Mikhailovsky Theatre. We spoke to him about the break with materiality, the use of new technologies, the colours of St. Petersburg, and the relevance of Pushkin’s poem.
"I feel as though the world is gradually losing its materiality. Bulky, large-scale items now appear somewhat odd. I recently realized that I hardly ever approach bookcases anymore, even though I’ve amassed quite a book collection over the years. Now I have a phone in my pocket that holds a hundred books — everything is dematerializing. I have become really fed up with stage scenery and feel the need to look for new forms of design. And that fits the trend. And so to the ballet "I Love You, Peter’s Great Creation..." Pushkin’s poem has an amazing lightness that I wanted to capture and convey. I cannot turn that ephemeral poem into a large unwieldy production. After all, what did Pushkin do? He captured the depths of human existence in light strokes. In that lies his genius and his relevance today. He may even have foreseen modern digital technology. After all, poetry denies materiality.
Artists have always reacted to the introduction of new technology. About 30 years ago there was an explosion of incredible sculptures and installations. Assemblies weighing up to 100,000 tons were displayed in galleries. Richard Serra was particularly keen on that. In the 1960s it was considered a breakthrough. Now people look on it sceptically. Presumably when cinema was invented many talented artists started working with light projectors as well. So there is no point in resisting the current break with materiality. Technology makes it possible to do things that were previously impossible. Thanks to technology even material objects behave differently — their movements can be programmed. Somebody presses a button and 100,000 tons start moving, changing position. Technology enables reality to move — it is a kind of telekinesis.
In using projections we do not intend to compete with cinema as a spectacle — we are attempting to find a new theatrical form. I have to admit I do not like projections. They very often provide an easy way of doing nothing. I have always thought that projection only works to support a world that has already been created. If you add projection to something that has already been thought out, then it works. Our task is to emphasize and highlight the dancer’s body. The artists are transformed into waves, into the horseman. That’s why the statue appears shattered on the poster. Because after the fragments fly apart, they become the bodies of the dancers. Dance is always symbolic, and that symbolism superbly suits the poetry. The music is also symbolic, not literal.
St. Petersburg plays a very important part in this production — after all, The Bronze Horseman is a poem about St. Petersburg. But the city takes on a totally different philosophical dimension in the poem. It is simply what you might call an existential image. I am not from St. Petersburg, and I have to admit I prefer Moscow. Everyone raves about St. Petersburg. I have never quite understood why. The city has been very warm during this visit, though, so I can better appreciate its beauty. But it is the image we have of St. Petersburg that interests me more than the actual city.
For me St. Petersburg is not black-and-white as it is usually imagined. The ballet begins with an explosion of colour, and only later, when we plunge into a dream or a nightmare, everything becomes black-and-white. After all, dreams are often black-and-white. And although an awakening follows, this black statue, this black horseman still remains.
I have staged very few ballets — this is only my third. I staged Othello with Lar Lubovitch, but that was quite a long time ago. It was a great production for the Metropolitan Opera, very successful. Quite recently I staged Shostakovich’s Trilogy with Ratmansky for the American Ballet Theatre. When the opportunity arose to stage a new interpretation of The Bronze Horseman, Lar gladly agreed to work with me again. I think his fairly classical style will suit St. Petersburg well.
