Russian troupe astonishing act> Red Star chorus, dancers keep UM audience in disbelief

Halfway through Friday night’s performance of the Red Star Red Army Chorus and Dance Ensemble at the Maine Center for the Arts in Orono, a man sitting in the last row of the hall said happily, “Watching these people makes my joints hurt!”

The “OOOHS” and “AAAHS” which accompanied the music and acrobatic dances of this ensemble attested to the audience’s agreement with him. Everyone felt something in his or her joints, whether it was patriotism from standing for both the American National Anthem and the Russian National Anthem, or astonishment in seeing a dancer pivot on his head while kicking his feet up Cossack-style.

The group, which was established 15 years ago to entertain the Strategic Missile Force of the Soviet Union, performed more than 20 pieces, including instrumentals, vocal works, and dance music. The two eloquent encores of “America the Beautiful” and “Shenandoah” left the audience on its feet cheering.

The program had an amazing range of classical pieces — Tchaikovsky, Bach, Rachmaninov — and traditional Russian songs — “Volga Boat Song,” “Katjusha,” and “Kalinka.” And the action moved between music and dance in the most balanced and satisfying fashion. The evening was expertly directed by Colonel Anatoly Bazhalkin, a cheerful commander who led the 70-person chorus and 25-piece orchestra through the softest chants to the most thunderous bellows.

One of the shortest, but most popular highlights, was Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Flight of the Bumblebee.” Excerpted from an opera, this buzzing little number was wound out with humorous understatement by soloist Evgeni Grekhov on the bayan, a button accordion which seemed to have a bee captive within its casing so accurately imitative it was of the insect.

The visual excitement of the show was generated by the 20 dancers who turned the stage into a firework display of acrobatics and color. Dressed in various Russian folk outfits such as streamers and headpieces on the women and balloon pants and caps on the men, the performers moved together with military precision and grace. Their symmetry was near-perfect, but never mechanical. And their broad, friendly smiles accentuated the fun they, too, seemed to be having.

The men, in particular, dispelled gravity with their hopakas (leaping splits) and trepkas (kicks from squatting positions). Often, it was hard to even identify their movements as belonging to the range of human flexibility and motion. And although the women had equally nimble vigor and far more detailed dexterity, this is a style of dance in which masculine athleticism is at its absolute best. Whether in swordplay, handless flips, a tap sequence, or a back-to-back, arms-linked kicking session, these maneuverers sent the audience into shrieks of appreciation and amazement.

After all, if you watch a body fling itself across stage in completely controlled whirlwinds, making only enough contact with the floor to be courteous, you suddenly understand that gravity can