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'We were chosen'
By MARINA BROWN
© St. Petersburg Times, ST. PETERSBURG -- It's midafternoon. Fourth Street is steaming from a recent downpour. In a strip mall, beneath a faded plastic awning that says "Ballet," two people shuffle through the door. Inside, the dance studio is stifling. The linoleumlike flooring is rippled and taped to the plywood beneath. A handyman in the corner is trying to repair a leak. There is no room for a piano. Andrei Ustinov, 46, and his wife, Elena Martinson, 36, prefer to focus not on their surroundings but on what they say they offer the dance community: experience and professionalism from years of dancing at the highest levels in the former Soviet Union. While Martinson, a delicate and perfectly proportioned blond, gazes at one of their many publicity photos on the wall, Andrei's speech tumbles out, dramatic and intense. He is a talking resume of their past. Sometimes jogging in place, cracking his back or pounding a well-muscled leg to show its strength, he rushes nonstop through dates and places in dance careers that began in St. Petersburg, Russia, and now have led them to St. Petersburg, Florida. "We were chosen," says Ustinov, clutching Elena to his side. "Look at us. Only bodies like ours are chosen for the Vagonova Academy." Ustinov releases his wife and points to an onstage photo of himself in a splendid jete. "I was premier dancer here at the Mali Theatre," he says. In 1987, he danced Balanchine's Theme and Variations and Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux with choreography lifted out of pirated films of the New York City Ballet, he says with pride. "We always find a way to make do." It was that year in Dallas, while on tour with the Moscow Classical Ballet, that he defected. By 1990, Elena's career was blossoming at Russia's famed Kirov. But when she and Ustinov renewed an acquaintance in London, where they were performing, Martinson decided to leave the company and join Ustinov. Ustinov was discovering by then that some of the mystique associated with defecting Russian dancers was beginning to fade. In the 1970s, Nureyev, Baryshnikov and Makarova had immediately been offered big contracts with major companies. But when the Soviet Union crumbled, many well-trained dancers were knocking on U.S. regional-company doors. For a while, Ustinov danced in Dallas, then Fort Worth. Firm contracts and decent money, he says, always seemed to elude him. When Martinson joined him in 1991, her problems with visas, green cards and residency permits were added to his. "We always thought once we got out of old Soviet Union, we'd be free. But no one is ever free of bureaucracy," she says. Life became a constant cycle of resumes, videotapes, inquiries and auditions. Through sheer tenacity, they learned English and developed promotional skills. Their itinerant lifestyle took them across Europe and to Asia from one guest appearance or seminar to another. Scrapbooks filled with exquisite arabesques and powerful leaps show the couple at the height of their powers in all the major roles of the classical repertoire. They taught in Boston, Chicago, Indiana and Rhode Island. Yet the pair yearned for roots. After several guest performances in St. Petersburg, Florida, they decided to settle down. But one year later, in April 1996, their car was rear-ended. Ustinov was thrown from it and suffered a severe brain injury from which therapists thought he might not recover. After weeks of intensive care and months of physical therapy, he slowly resumed teaching and performing. Today he invites a visitor to feel the side of his head where a shunt that moves fluid from his brain continues to run beneath the skin. The couple, who have no insurance, say they've been paying off hospital bills for the last five years. In 1999, the couple opened the Ustinov-Martinson School of Classical Ballet, which has 40 students. In July, the pair, who have no children, escorted six dancers of their Chamber Ballet to a workshop in Tallinn, Estonia, where they presented a locally choreographed jazz work and conducted workshops. Ustinov, who with his wife has danced in Tallinn many times, marvels at the regard in which performing artists are held in Estonia. "Here we are poor. In Estonia, they live as artists should," he says. Ustinov's foot jiggles back and forth; he is up and pacing again. He wants to show another video of himself and Elena in a Russian pas de deux. He likes to remember the old days, when his dancing was powerful. Touching his heart, he says, "I just want people to know the great tradition that lives in Elena and me -- the majesty of the Kirov, the heritage of old Russia -- it is the span of a magnificent history." IF YOU GO: Andrei Ustinov and Elena Martinson's Chamber Ballet Company will present a program of live music and dance at 8 p.m. Saturday at the Palladium Theater in St. Petersburg. The first half will feature piano music by Rachmaninoff, performed by Brent Douglas, followed by classical ballet selections. The second half will feature a jazz trio followed by a performance of "The Bench" and video highlights of their trip to Estonia. Tickets are $15 general, $12 seniors, $10 children. Call (727) 822-3590. © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • Tampa Bay Times
490 First Avenue South St. Petersburg, FL 33701 727-893-8111
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