Reviews of the Eifman Ballet.
In the Soviet era, when he suffered much official opprobrium, Eifman’s work was labelled pornographic. After seeing Rodin, a 2011 narrative work about the sculptor’s stormy relationship with Camille Claudel which had its first British outing at the Coliseum last night, I find myself in complete agreement. There's nothing wrong with scantily clad dancers and depictions of sex per se, but Rodin garnishes them with all the demerits of modern, plastic “industry” porn: the flimsiest plot, no emotional depth at all, and stereotypes instead of characters.
As Rodin, the tireless Oleg Gabyshev partners Lyubov Andreyeva’s touching Camille in a succession of gymnastic duets. As Rodin’s other lover, Yulia Manjeles watches from the sidelines in seething jealousy. The recorded music is a grab-bag of Ravel, Saint-Saëns and Massenet.