Alexei Ratmansky was recently scrolling through social media when he came across a shocking post.
A video showed rehearsals of a production of “The Pharaoh’s Daughter” at the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg, Russia, on which Ratmansky, the famed ballet choreographer, had worked before Russia invaded Ukraine last year.
Ratmansky had severed ties with the Mariinsky at the start of the war. But the video suggested that the company still used some of his choreography, even though his name was removed from the production, a version of Marius Petipa’s 19th-century ballet.
Ratmansky, who is of mixed Russian and Ukrainian descent and grew up in Kiev, posted a statement on social media last month calling the episode “the most painful professional experience of my life.” He accused the artistic team that replaced him, including Italian choreographer Toni Candeloro, of choosing to “become tools of Putin’s propaganda”.
The Mariinsky, where “The Pharaoh’s Daughter” plays through early May, did not respond to a request for comment.
Ratmansky’s name has also been dropped from several productions at the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow, where he was once artistic director. To show his opposition to the war, he abruptly left the Russian capital in February 2022, shortly before he was due to premiere a new work there. (The Bolshoi did not respond to a request for comment.)
In between rehearsals last week at the New York City Ballet, where he will take up artist-in-residence in August, Ratmansky discussed “The Pharaoh’s Daughter,” the future of Ukrainian culture and the impact of the war on his art . These are edited excerpts from the conversation.
How did it feel when you first saw videos of “The Pharaoh’s Daughter,” which you and your wife, Tatiana, had been working on for two years?
It really hurt. It was a long dream of mine to do it. It was a lot of preparatory work.
But it’s nothing compared to the war. Nobody dies. It’s just ballet. They’re taking a ballet, okay, they’re taking a ballet. They don’t write my name on the production, well, that’s bad. It’s wrong on so many levels. But it is nothing compared to the real tragedy that happens every day.
How can you be sure that the Mariinsky used your choreography?
The work I did was very specific. It was a reconstruction of the notes. The steps, combinations of steps, arm movements, gestures and how the steps are connected to the music. There are parts that are very different now. But they just built it on top of the work I had done.
In the video I saw moments that could not be found anywhere else. The dancers have been working on these steps for months. It’s in their body.
You were born in St. Petersburg but grew up in Kiev. How do you see your identity now?
It’s hard to answer that question. We speak Russian at home, but often switch to Ukrainian. My son, who never lived in Ukraine, is now texting us in Ukrainian. My heart is in Ukraine.
How has the war changed you as an artist?
You cannot stage your immediate reaction. You have to think about it and not force it.
I performed a ballet in Seattle in September called “Wartime Elegy.” It’s a short piece, but I used Ukrainian music and Ukrainian artists for the design. It was important to me to do it.
I like comedy, I like lighter things. So this is a new way – a new depth for me to explore.
The Russian leadership has attempted to erode Ukraine’s cultural identity. Are you hopeful about the future of Ukrainian art?
This is an opportunity for Ukrainian culture to step forward. It is always suppressed. In the 1930s, a whole group of Ukrainian writers, painters and stage directors were executed.
The cultural history of the country is being rewritten. And the experience of this war will bring forth extraordinary art.
What do you think a year later of your decision to leave Russia and terminate your cooperation there?
On February 24, 2022, I suddenly realized I had a voice. Everyone in the ballet community knew that I am from Kiev. And I was in Russia, in Moscow, the heart of Russian art. When I canceled my premieres, I felt something I had never felt before. Was it political? I don’t think it’s political. When it comes to war, when it comes to killing thousands of people, you can’t call it politics.
Do you envision a day when you will work in Russia again?
I heard that when Nabokov was invited to Germany after World War II, he said, “I’m not going because I don’t want to accidentally shake hands with a murderer.” That resonated.
How do you view the Russian cultural scene now?
It is getting worse and worse in Russia day by day. In cultural life, they try to pretend that everything is fine, but the repertoire is shrinking, the best creators are leaving. Some have chosen to stay. But if you work for a state-backed important Russian cultural institution, that means you support Putin and his war, and you are a propaganda tool.
Some Russian artists say they have no choice but to work for institutions such as the Mariinsky and the Bolshoi. Even if they are against the war, they say, they need the jobs.
If you live in Russia, I understand. But if you come from the West, that is unacceptable – just as unacceptable as the West receiving people who support Putin. And there are a lot of great great artists who are still finding a way to tour and perform.
Valery Gergiev, the star Russian conductor who was shunned in the United States and Europe because of his ties to Putin, recently led a tour in China with the Mariinsky Orchestra, where he was warmly received.
The market has shifted to Asia. For these Asian countries, it feels like the war is so far away from them. But actually it isn’t. Just look at the situation in Taiwan and what Ukraine could mean for them.
What did your Russian friends say to you after you left Moscow?
At first I naively tried to warn them about the large numbers of Russian soldiers who were dying. I was like, “Do you understand what’s going on?” And most did not respond. And some of my best friends, I never heard from them again after the war started.
But I did receive some wonderful letters that are very dear to me. They said, “We support you, we are with you, we understand. And we are sorry for what Russia is doing to your country.” But you can count those letters on one hand.
Have you been in contact with the Bolshoi or the Mariinsky since you left Russia?
Not long ago, the Mariinsky sent a letter from one of the clerks in a production office. They said they spent money on us, on me and my wife living there, and we would have to pay that money back – the hotel, the overseas flights. Of course they perform ballets of mine without my name, and they don’t pay royalties. So that was an interesting letter.
Did you respond?
Not me. I don’t know what to say.
Everything used to be by contract, but it was so easy for them to break a contract, to strip an artist of his intellectual property.
The directors of the Bolshoi and the Mariinsky were very close friends. They are in an impossible position. But still it is very heavy. It is very difficult.