Looking back: Jessye Norman in Kyiv 2003
Despite the horrors of war, the nightly air raid sirens and audience restrictions (so that everyone can fit in the theatre’s basement shelter), performances go on in this remarkable season at the National Opera of Ukraine in Kyiv. This resilience reminds me of another moment of artistic endurance from my visit to Kyiv 20 years ago.
At the time, I was Jessye Norman’s Managing Director, but she seldom performed because of knee pain and mobility issues. She reluctantly agreed to travel to Moscow and Kyiv to perform with Vladimir Spivakov and his National Philharmonic of Russia. Miss Norman, as she liked to be called, was not fond of airplanes. Trains were not an option, and Aeroflot, like British Airways, was one of the companies she fiercely detested. As a result, a private flight was arranged from Moscow’s old Vnukovo Airport to Kyiv.
It was below zero and snowing when we were driven out to the tarmac. The steep stairs up to the old Antonov plane were covered with snow, and only the lack of any viable alternative prevented Jessye from cancelling the trip altogether. Entering the plane from the back and walking through the baggage compartment, we found the orchestra´s concert master, solo cellist and a few other principal musicians crouched together with their instruments and baggage. The rest of the orchestra had to cover the 900 kilometres by train. Inside the cabin, however, bright red sofas (without any seatbelts), platters of fresh strawberries and vodka immediately improved the mood.
In Kyiv, the performance was a charity event for an orphanage supporting HIV-positive children. It took place at the National Opera and was attended by a considerable number of celebrities, including Leonid Kuchma, then President of Ukraine. The theatre has a colourful history dating back to 1867. The current building was opened in 1901 and, even after several renovations and reconstructions, consists of a maze of narrow hallways and staircases connecting the stage, dressing rooms and foyers. For Jessye Norman, walking from one of the small distant dressing rooms to the stage was not only physically problematic—it was simply impossible. Faced with this challenge, the theatre came up with a creative solution that would prove historic.
On 1 September 1911, during a performance of Rimsky-Korsakov´s The Tale of Tsar Saltan in the presence of Tsar Nicholas II and his daughters, Russian Prime Minister Pyotr Stolypin was fatally shot near the stage. The assassin had entered through a side door, which the theatre subsequently decided to wall off.
Nearly a century later, on 12 December 2003, this almost-forgotten sealed entrance was reopened once again to accommodate a famous soloist’s mobility challenges, marking the memorable Ukrainian debut of Jessye Norman.
Florian Riem