The breathtaking treat of Russian State Ballet

Something caught my eye as I was walking through the serene streets of my Instagram. This is not an odd occurrence if you are a person who has painstakingly curated your targeted advertising. Before me was a sponsored ad of a ballet show.

Not uncommon in Nairobi, but I read on. The Russian State Ballet would be performing. Okay, so this ad is not for Nairobi, I thought, but I was wrong. The show would be at the Kenya National Theatre. I followed the link to more info immediately. I saw the event was going to be hosted by the promoters who had recently blown my mind at a rock concert. My heart started racing as I bought my ticket in a rush.

I had tried to watch a YouTube video of The Swan Lake performance a while back, but I fell asleep. My small screen was doing an injustice to the feats of physicality I was seeing. I had to see this live somehow.

And now, here they were, coming to Nairobi. The deities of human movement were going to be my own Christmas present. I was delighted there was a dress code indicated. My yearlong fast on buying clothes was finally ready to be broken. I visited my favourite IG shop for dresses and went scouring the beauty streets of Luthuli for my little accessories with my sister.

As the day drew closer, I stalked the promoter’s page, seeing the dancers perform and relax in Lamu. The show snippets were absolutely tantalising to see.

The Day finally arrived. I was going to miss the bitings and cocktails session due to a typically packed December Saturday, but I made my way to the theatre in record time, cutting through weekend Ngong Road traffic in two-wheel fashion.

I settled into the dark theatre as noiselessly as I could. My eyes were about to be blessed.

In front of a classical backdrop, we witnessed the peak of physical grace tell glimpses of legendary stories.

The agony of the swan, the passion of the flamenco, the freedom of the woods and the whimsy of a market. These characters appeared before us, swaying the forms of the dancers that channelled them. They leapt and bent on the tip of their toes, convincing you of the urgency of the Prince to his beloved. Classical music guided us through this fantastical landscape. Every note gained new meaning as it anchored the Russian lady’s pirouette and tambourine hits and the Dionysian lob across the stage.

All the characters portrayed were excerpts from classical ballets, such as The Nutcracker and Swan Lake.

I could barely move during the intermission as I waited for the next session. Let me tell you Maina, it was breathtaking. And let me clearly state for the record, I did not want it to be over as applause echoed across the theatre walls. It reminded me I had wanted to bring flowers to the show. The company gracefully bowed to the packed audience that couldn’t stop putting their hands together for an excellent show.

The curtains being drawn was a terrible moment. I stayed seated, hoping for a post-credits scene, but none came (superhero movies have ruined us). I shuffled out with the last of the patrons sadly. At the control room window, I jokingly asked if we could meet the company and that lovely man said, “Yes, sure, yeah, go back and say hi.”

I hurried back inside to see the curtains back open and the ballerinas just casually saying hi and taking pictures with fans. I also got some photos thanks to a security guard who was gracious enough to help me on my solo date. I regretted not being able to speak Russian so much as I struggled to express how much I enjoyed the show to the dancers. I went home with a smile that stayed on until I went to bed.