The First Roles of Bibisara Beishenalievna

The Girl from the Kyrgyz Village of Tash-Tyube

The drawing of the dance shines with novelty,
an airy light trace is elusive,
she glorified her native people
with her astonishing art.

Suyunbay Eraliyev.

In the crowded hall of the State Academic Bolshoi Theatre of the USSR on June 4, 1939, the concluding concert of the decade of Kyrgyz art and literature was taking place. Akyins were replaced by manaschi, the folk instrument orchestra — the ensemble of temir-komuz players, solo singers — the choir. And suddenly, young dancers — students of the Kyrgyz group of the Leningrad Choreographic School — fluttered out from behind the scenes. The young performers demonstrated lightness, grace, and a sense of rhythm in A. Glazunov's "Waltz."

Among these young artists — Kyrgyz boys and girls — was 13-year-old Bibisara Beishenalieva, now a People's Artist of the Soviet Union. 

Many years ago, in 1936, a group of specialists arrived in Frunze to select students for the Leningrad Choreographic School. The commission members paid special attention to Bibisara. Looking at the girl's figure, choreographer V. Varkovitsky exclaimed: "She was made for ballet!"

This meeting determined the fate of the girl from the Kyrgyz village of Tash-Tyube, where Bibisara was born. At the age of ten, she first arrived in Leningrad. Everything was unfamiliar to her in the big city. Wide straight streets with houses so tall that she had to tilt her head back to see the upper floors, the bustling movement on the streets.

She was amazed by the large bright rooms of the school with snow-white bedding and huge wall-sized mirrors in the dance hall.

From then on, the school became her home; here she felt the world of great inspired art.

When Bibisara Beishenalieva became a recognized master of the stage, after one of the concerts during the Fourth World Festival of Youth and Students in Bucharest, an unfamiliar dark-skinned girl approached her and asked:
— Where were you born? Where did you study?
— I was born in Kyrgyzstan, I studied in Leningrad.
— And how did you get to Leningrad?
— There was a selection, and I was sent to the Leningrad Choreographic School.
— And who paid for your education?
— I studied at the expense of the state.
— But we don’t have that,— the girl from a distant foreign country said sadly.

Together with other Kyrgyz children, Bibisara learned the basics of ballet art, mastered the Russian language, and general education subjects.

The first performance she saw in Leningrad at the Kirov Theatre was Tchaikovsky's ballet "Sleeping Beauty." Bibisara did not understand everything at that time. But she was struck by the world of sounds and amazing dances that opened up to her. Could it be, the girl thought, that she would someday step onto the stage like that? It seemed incredible to her.

Leningrad captivated Bibisara. With a soulful tremor, she entered the theatre. She visited the Hermitage with the same reverent feeling. In its vast halls, she slowly moved from painting to painting, and the immortal works of art evoked in her young soul a reverence for human genius, creating life on a dead canvas.

The girl loved to wander through the city, gazing into people's faces and admiring the decorations on the walls of houses. She could stand for hours by the parapet, admiring the Neva. Once in the school, she heard the lines:

I love you, creation of Peter,
I love your strict, graceful appearance,
The majestic flow of the Neva,
Its granite shore...

Bibisara repeated these lines and, grasping their meaning, felt joy and pride from the realization that she lived in such a beautiful city. She amazed her teachers with her extraordinary diligence and the successes that became more evident every day.

The events of the Great Patriotic War interrupted Bibisara's studies. She had to return to Kyrgyzstan, and the fifteen-year-old girl was accepted into the ballet troupe of the capital's theatre. Her inexhaustible diligence and passion helped young Bibisara overcome technical difficulties; moreover, she was gifted not only with talent but also with grace and a natural sense of rhythm. In one of her first performances, Bibisara performed a mazurka in "Coppélia" and delighted the audience with the dynamism and spirituality of her dance.

Soon, a new, quite challenging task arose for the young ballerina — to play the role of Zainura in the Kyrgyz ballet by V. Vlasov and V. Fere "Selkinchek."

It may seem strange that working on this role in the Kyrgyz ballet turned out to be a difficult task for Beishenalieva. But that was indeed the case. The pupil of the Russian choreographic school had to master the peculiarities of national choreography. As already mentioned, the ballet "Selkinchek" did not stand out for its richness of dance figures. Nevertheless, B. Beishenalieva managed to make her part from a theatrical one into a dance one. However, Beishenalieva's dances in the ballet "Selkinchek" seemed to fall out of the overall ensemble, as the choreography of the performance was mainly based on pantomime. Nevertheless, working in it was significant for Beishenalieva (as well as for the entire theatre). She closely approached the problem of the national aspect in ballet art.

Bibisara Beishenalieva fondly recalls how she was encouraged by the praise of choreographer V. V. Kozlov after her performance in "Selkinchek." She understood, of course, that her portrayal of Zainura was far from perfect. And she tried to "work off" the praise. Soon she had such an opportunity. At the end of 1944, the theatre staged the ballet "Cholpon," in which the ballerina successfully performed the title role. But although Cholpon was dear to the ballerina, she was more attracted to the role of Aydai; she came to it many years later, while she continued to dance the role of Cholpon.

The next significant work for the ballerina was Raymonda in the eponymous ballet by A. K. Glazunov. She was delighted by the opportunity to express her independence, although, as always, at the beginning of the work, she was frightened by the unknown material.

After the premiere, B. Beishenalieva confessed in a newspaper note: "I thought a lot about my role, trying to understand all the smallest details and nuances of Raymonda's emotional life.

Together with her, I experienced her sorrow and joy, her anxieties and worries."

If the music in "Cholpon" is filled with melodies familiar to the actress, then the entire ballet "Raymonda" is colored with motifs of ancient French music. The actress had to immerse herself in its spirit.

The music of Glazunov's ballet enchants with its lyricism. The motif of Raymonda is especially expressive — soft, elegant in its melodic pattern, expressing the essence of the character of the young girl, her bright poetic image. B. Beishenalieva highlights the extraordinary purity of her heroine, revealing the philosophical meaning of the image, the idea of humanism.

A musical interlude before the second act. The music seems to set the stage for the perception of the action, captivating with its poetic quality. And here sounds a classical suite, including a bright duet of Raymonda and Abderakhman (performed by Rafkhat Urazbaev). Beishenalieva dances with inspiration. In a white dress, she radiates a girl’s purity; her happiness is full, she flits across the stage so lightly, as if her feet do not touch the ground at all, and it seems — her impulse is so great, and her love so boundless, that she is ready to soar like a bird.

The duet is followed by a grand "Fantastic Waltz." The heroes dance accompanied by the corps de ballet. The light figures of the ballerinas and dancers express the joy of earthly love. Beishenalieva's dance at this moment resembles a song, in which all the fullness of feelings is invested. Raymonda-Beishenalieva freezes in the embrace of her beloved, then breaks free to whirl rapidly. It seems that nothing weighs upon her — neither evil, nor disappointment, nor pain. Later she will experience many other feelings — fear, hatred, and learn the price of treachery. And thus, the feeling of Raymonda becomes fuller in the final scene of the celebration at her wedding. Here, perhaps, the ballerina's artistry is most strongly manifested, the richness of the expressive means available to her, from wide strong jumps to tiny, completely jewel-like movements in the variations of Raymonda's last act.

Kyrgyz poet Kubanych Akaev, after the first performance of "Raymonda," gifted Bibisara his poems:

Look, a girl in white dances,
Flowing like a swan, light and smooth,
Maybe it's a bold sorceress,
Or the Moscow guest Ulanova?
Or a clear evening star,
Reflected in the mirror parquet?
No, it’s our simple, beautiful
Kyrgyz girl from the aiyl.

If we talk about the subtext that permeates Raymonda's role as performed by Beishenalieva, it is the faith in people that has never left the heroine. The actress showed herself to be a mature realist artist. She follows the MkhAT tradition of deep penetration into the essence of the image, its dramatic fabric. For her, there is no faceless and, if one can say so, contentless movement, however beautiful it may be.

The First Honored Artist of Kyrgyzstan in Professional Ballet