In Pictures
Ballet helps fight war fatigue in Ukraine’s front-line Kharkiv city
Dance theatre turns into a defying space during the war, bringing the much-needed hope and escape to residents.
In the Ukrainian city of Kharkiv, escaping the war with Russia is nearly impossible.
On certain days, when the wind shifts, residents of this historic city can hear the distant rumble of artillery fire from the front line, some 30km (18.5 miles) away.
Most nights, Russian kamikaze drones packed with explosives buzz overhead as parents put their children to bed.
Three years since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the unrelenting war exerts a heavy psychological burden on many in Kharkiv. Yet, there is a place in the city where, for a few fleeting hours, the war seems to vanish.
Beneath the Kharkiv National Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre, in a dim, brick-walled basement, a dance company has established a refuge from drones and bombs – a space where audiences can lose themselves in performances of classic ballets.
In April, this underground venue hosted performances of Chopiniana, an early 20th-century ballet set to the music of Frederic Chopin. Despite the improvised setting, the ballet was staged with full classical grandeur, complete with corps de ballet and orchestra.
It marked a significant milestone for Kharkiv’s cultural life: the first complete classical ballet performance in the city since February 2022, when Russian troops launched their invasion of Ukraine.
“In spite of everything – the fact that bombs are flying, drones, and everything else – we can give a gift of something wonderful to people,” said Antonina Radiievska, artistic director of Opera East, the ballet company behind the production.
“They can come and, even if it’s just for an hour or two, completely immerse themselves in a different world.”
Despite Ukraine’s rich tradition in classical ballet, the art form now seems far removed from the everyday existence of Ukrainians living through war. Daily routines revolve around monitoring apps for drone alerts, sleeping on metro station floors to escape air raids, or seeking news of loved ones on the front line. Pirouettes, pas de deux and chiffon tutus feel worlds away.
Nevertheless, the journey of Kharkiv’s ballet through wartime reflects the ways in which Ukrainian society has adapted and evolved.
On February 23, 2022, the National Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre staged a performance of the ballet Giselle. The next day, Russia launched its full-scale invasion. As Moscow’s forces advanced towards Kharkiv and threatened to seize the city, the theatre closed its doors and much of the ballet troupe departed.
Some regrouped in Slovakia and Lithuania, mounting ballet productions abroad with assistance from European sponsors.
By 2023, although the conflict ground on, the situation in Kharkiv, in Ukraine’s northeast, had stabilised after Russian ground troops withdrew. A new realisation took hold – this was a long-term reality. Locals began referring to the city, and themselves, with the Ukrainian word “nezlamniy”, meaning invincible.
That year, work began on transforming the theatre’s basement into a performance venue. By October 2023, it was being used for rehearsals. The following spring, authorities permitted the theatre to admit audiences, and small-scale ballet performances, including children’s concerts, resumed.
The revival of Chopiniana marked the next chapter in Kharkiv’s wartime cultural journey.
Staging a classical opera again signals that Ukraine endures, says Igor Tuluzov, director-general of Opera East. “We are demonstrating to the world that we really are a self-sufficient state, independent, in all its aspects, including cultural independence,” he said.
The auditorium now seats 400 people on stackable chairs, compared with the 1,750 seats in the main theatre above, where the plush mustard seats remain empty.
The stage is a quarter the size of the main one. Grey-painted bricks, concrete floors, and exposed pipes and wiring form a stark contrast to the varnished hardwood and marble of the theatre above. The basement’s acoustics, performers say, fall short of the cavernous main auditorium.
For artistic director Radiievska, however, the most important thing is that, after a long pause, she and her troupe can once again perform for a live audience.
“It means, you know, life,” she said. “An artist cannot exist without the stage, without creativity, without dance or song. It’s like a rebirth.”
