Russian Grigorovich ballet upholds remarkable vocabulary of dance

The Grigorovich Ballet of Russia, which performed Thursday at the Maine Center for the Arts, has one thing to say to more progressive offshoots of traditional dance: Move over because we’re not done yet. On a national tour, the Grigorovich is presenting a lineup of traditional crowd pleasers from a prestigious past. Whether it is the Pas de Deux from Marius Petipa’s “Le Corsaire” or Mikhail Fokine’s “Les Sylphides,” the Grigorovich upholds a long and remarkable vocabulary of dance.

Yuri Grigorovich, after all, is one of Russia’s spectacular stars of choreography. He was a soloist for the Kirov Ballet in the 1940s and became a master there by 1962. Not long after, he became chief choreographer and artistic director for the Bolshoi Ballet, where he stayed for 30 years. Grigorovich comes from a family of dancers and circus artists. He, too, flirted with a circus career but gave himself over to ballet. But both backgrounds are clear in his choreography. Though perfectly capable of airborne moves and outstanding athleticism, the Grigorovich distinguished itself last night as an earthbound company of dancers who are part contortionist and part sculpture. In this way, the dancers are starkly sensational, moving with impressive strength and architectural uniformity rather than sentimental prettiness. Arms moved like waterfalls, legs like vibrating seaweed and, always, always as a whole.

The precision of the corps, especially in “Les Sylphides” and the Grand Pas from Petipa’s “Raymonda,” was sinewy and dignified. Stillness, of course, can be just as breathtaking as movement in ballet, and there was plenty of opportunity to gasp at both in these two pieces.

Perhaps the most stunning work on the program was the Pas de Deux of Phrygia and Spartacus from Grigorovich’s 1968 ballet “Spartacus.” Tatiana Liabina and Michail Zinoviev were statuesque in the hugging extensions and wraps of their bodies. It was an homage to an early expression of free love, and the steaminess is sublime all these years later. While there were many reasons to admire this company – Dmitri Vladimirov’s leaps in “Don Quixote,” Alexandra Sivtsova’s turns in the adagio from “Spartacus,” the dramatic presence of Sergei Barannikov, or the controlled ornamentation of Taira Dzassokhova and Dmitri Kanibolotski in an Indian divertissement from “The Nutcracker” – there are those who may have grown impatient with the baroque costumes, the repetition of theme and the wigs that standardized the look of the company. “Russian Dance” and Grigorovich’s own flapper-tango segment from “The Golden Age” were lively breaks. Otherwise, it was a muscular night of vernacular ballet.