"I want to grasp things in depth"

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For many years now, Alexandr Trusch, whom everyone calls Sasha, has been a safe bet among Hamburg Ballet’s first soloists. He has hardly ever cancelled a performance or ever refused a task. In both major and minor roles he stands out; he possesses a superb dance technique coupled with great expressivity; however, it is his stage presence and versatility that few dancers can match. 

Born in Dnipropetrovsk in Ukraine in 1989, he took lessons for three years in folk dance before coming to Germany with his parents in 2001. At the Hamburg Ballet's ballet school he graduated in half the usual time, becoming a member of the ensemble in 2007, advancing to soloist in 2010, and first soloist in 2014. He has remained loyal to the company to this day. 

His repertoire is wide-ranging, there is nothing he can't dance - technically, stylistically or dramatically. For him, John Neumeier has created roles in eight of his ballets and he has appeared in all the important leading roles: Vaslaw Nijinsky in "Nijinsky", King Ludwig in "Illusions - like Swan Lake", Prince Désiré in "Sleeping Beauty", Günther in "The Nutcracker", Armand and Des Grieux in  “Lady of the Camellias", Odysseus in "Odyssey", Albrecht in "Giselle", the Angel in "Christmas Oratorio I-VI", Aminta in "Sylvia", Alexei Vronsky in "Anna Karenina", Joseph in "Joseph's Legend", Hamlet in "Hamlet 21" Philostrat/Puck in "A Midsummer Night's Dream" - to name the most important.

He gets the best out of less glamorous choreographies making them shine unexpectedly. It is his own mixture of strength and tenderness, virility and sensitivity, virtuosity and restraint, that captivates the spectator from the moment he first appears on stage. He certainly has a lot to offer; above all, something that characterizes a great artist: modesty. 

Just recently during the Christmas season he shone as Günther in "The Nutcracker", only to guest a few days later in Tokyo as Albrecht in a performance of the classic "Giselle" with the Ukrainian National Ballet, partnering Hamburg Ballet’s first soloist Madoka Sugai as Giselle.

How did he become what he is today? How does he view dance today? Annette Bopp spoke to him about it. 

Sasha, how did you get into dancing? 

It all started at my half-sister's wedding; I was eight years old at the time and I danced all evening long. I hadn’t had any lessons before, it just came out of me. After that my parents said: The boy has to dance! They always had good instincts. Then, at the folk-dance school I was a bit of an overachiever always trying very hard. It wasn't easy for my parents to afford the fees; I grew up in modest circumstances. I danced four to five times a week. On other days I spent time in a handicraft club where my brother and I built model rockets – in fact, he has become an aerospace engineer. Crafting is my second passion. I like tinkering with cars, have a soft spot for vintage cars, and I like working with wood; carpentry. 

Why did you come to Germany? 

My mom was an English lecturer at the university and received a salary of 50 dollars a month. Just think, the upkeep of our apartment alone cost more than that. And she often didn't get any money for months because the state was bankrupt. My dad was director of a timber factory, but he is not at all a good businessman and was cheated on all sides. He went through a lot in the 1990s experiencing petty thievery, embezzlement and life-threatening situations. Finally, my parents decided that there was no future for them there. It didn't matter what you could do or how hard you tried; it was all about whether you had the right connections. If you wanted to make a decent living, you had to get criminally involved or leave. Because my grandfather was Jewish, we were able to immigrate to Germany. 

And how did you end up in Hamburg? 

That was an accident and luck. The official at the immigration office assigned us to Pinneberg. She thought that my brother, who is two years older than me, and I needed to be near a big city because of schooling. Then my mom found out about the Hamburg Ballet’s ballet school. I applied and was accepted. At the time I was 12. 

Student at the ballet school

Before that, you only danced folk dance. How did you manage with classical ballet? 

It wasn't easy at the beginning because I wasn't used to training at the barre: I found it boring. It was only during a two-week summer course in Yorkshire, which Kevin Haigen arranged for me to attend, that I understood its purpose. And I also realized: I could be better than the others if I made an effort. After that, ambition got the better of me. 

Meaning what?

At the ballet centre I trained more than the others, often in the evenings, and I always got into trouble with the doorman because of it. Due to insurance regulations, one wasn't allowed to stay that late in the building and Marianne Kruuse, who ran the school at the time, had to tell me off regularly. But at the end of the year, she organized a scholarship for me as a boarder with 100 euros a month pocket money because I was making so much effort. For me, that was a lot of money and I will never forget her help. Such a generous and empathetic gesture! She also arranged for me to train with the theatre class - a 14-year-old together with 17/18-year-old students. That was wonderful gesture in recognition of my engagement. 

Does that mean she recognized your talent? 

Obviously. I firmly believe that talented people should be treated as such. We are not all the same. There are people who can do something in no time at all, while others struggle for years. One has to take that into account in. For me, it's the death of art if one doesn’t challenge and encourage talent appropriately. I am deeply grateful that things were different for me. That is not generally a matter of course. 

Which teachers have influenced you? 

I suppose everyone involved in the ballet school, but especially Kevin Haigen, and later when I was a company member, Irina Jacobson; both in their different ways. Kevin can inspire you enormously, he's very chaotic, he talks a lot and hardly gives you time to think, but you can almost follow him blindly. Irina, a student of Agrippina Vaganova, used to came to Hamburg twice a year as a guest ballet teacher - at the beginning and end of the season. She was the complete opposite of Kevin: very rational and strict, calm and composed, never angry. That was good for me. All her lessons were like a performance with precise timing. She had a clear choice of words and a clear vision. With her, the work always made sense: it was worth the effort of trying to get better every day. She helped me to understand the basics of ballet, to distinguish the important from the unimportant. She could spend hours explaining a simple step or hand movement. It got on your nerves, but she was right. The subtlest nuances have the greatest effect. She influenced me a lot, I think about her every day - she died in 2018, when she was already very old. For me, she still shines down on us like a star. 

A fast-paced career

At the age of 16 you had the opportunity of working with John Neumeier in a creative way; you danced Romeo in his school and youth project "Romeo and Juliet". What was that like? 

At the time, I didn't realize what significance it had; I was still pubescent, had not started training with the theatre class. I would have preferred to go to the Prix de Lausanne to compete with other dancers. I had already been accepted as a participant and had prepared intensively with Kevin. But then, during a guest performance in Italy, John decided to create this Romeo with me; right at the time of the Prix de Lausanne. I was angry with him then, but in hindsight I can understand him and I think it's good that I never took part in competitions.  

Why? 

Because it doesn't have much to do with dance. 

How did you experience the creations with John? 

That were very special, each time. Even at an advanced age John continues to demonstrate the movements. But one should not imitate him 1:1, otherwise it looks funny. I did it the way I felt. He liked that and that's how he wanted it. He doesn't create what he can do himself, but what you can do as a dancer. He accepts suggestions and ideas, but also puts the brakes on if you want too much. In a way, he is able to tune us wonderfully, like a conductor tunes an orchestra. 

He entrusted you with big roles early on ... 

Yes, as a group dancer I already danced the lead role in Balanchine's "The Prodigal Son", Joseph in John's "Joseph's Legend", and Daphnis in "Daphnis and Chloe". I was 18 at the time of Daphnis. 

Which creation has particularly influenced you?

The angel in "Christmas Oratorio I-VI", together with Silvia Azzoni. She is a terrific partner, especially for a creation. For the first time, I had someone of whom I could say: My goodness! She's so much better than me ... The rehearsals were great, the choreography is superb. And yet I always have to struggle with it. 

Why? 

There are two things: watching a performance and hearing the music as a single activity, or being involved in rehearsals and performances over a period of time. I was often so tired... The choreography is very difficult and demanding. Bach’s music radiates such infinite joy that, no matter how you're feeling, you just have to deliver a commensurate performance on stage. And you should always be able to recall the same feelings inside you. It's extremely exhausting and nowhere near as rosy as one might imagine. The role of Lensky in John's "Tatjana" was similarly challenging. The music was incredibly difficult; we had so much trouble with it. And although many people don't like the ballet very much, I find it very interesting. That is because John dug much deeper into Pushkin's poem than Cranko did in his "Onegin". John succeeded in capturing the Russian ambiance and the content much better; especially with the character of Onegin, who actually wants to be like Lensky but is so different from him. John doesn't create just for theatrical effect, he tries to dramatize emotion in dance terms.

Dance today: a problematic development?

You often perform at other venues, how do you view the development of dance today? 

That really worries me. With each new creation, the driving force often seems to be: what's the best way to sell a piece? How do I construct it so that it doesn't involve too many elements in terms of music, lighting, scenery, number of dancers, time to rehearse? Many are made for 15-20 people and last an hour; that works everywhere

But there are many outstanding ballets that only last an hour? 

It's not about the length, but about the ideas behind it. I have nothing against a two or three-part ballet evenings if each dance piece makes sense in terms of content. If one thinks mainly in commercial terms, creativity will be curtailed. Of course, the budget is often limited, but I find it sad when aspects of selling gain the upper hand over and above the dramaturgy. Then our art is not in focus. Unfortunately, this happens often today. And, ultimately, the ballets look similar even if they have different steps. We all have to earn money, but that should never be the goal of art. If ballet develops in this direction, it will be its death, and also of our profession as dancers. 

Who were your role models as a dancer? 

In the beginning, Mikhail Baryshnikov, of course, and Rudolf Nureyev. Later, the great Hamburg first soloists: Sascha Riabko, Jiri and Otto Bubenicek, Ivan Urban, Lloyd Riggins and Ivan Liska. Among the women, especially Heather Jurgensen, Anna Polikarpova, Silvia Azzoni, Hélène Bouchet, Joelle Boulogne. Today I no longer have any role models, but rather ideas inspired by certain of them. I like to incorporate these into my performances. They are small homages to certain personalities, but you won't notice them if you don't know...

What makes a good dancer? 

Honesty: in movement and in the presentation. Not being pretentious, not doing anything that is superficial, gimmicky or pushy. Not competing, not having to prove anything. Also, having a certain naivety and love for what you do. John once said to me: "It doesn’t matter, the steps – as long as you are honest, it will work." That's how it is. 

What makes a good choreographer? 

Knowledge of human nature. And that he has mastered his craft. This craft consists of a combination of things: respect, professionalism, inspiration and education. You can always tell whether someone is a good choreographer by the way they deal with difficulties - and there are always difficulties: musical, lack of time, dance-related, human. A good choreographer makes something essential out of every situation. Choreography is more than just arranging steps. 

Is there a role that is particularly close to you? 

No. You should always fall in love with what you're doing right now. It's a matter of discipline and respect; and of love, dedication to what one does. 

Why did you stay in Hamburg? 

Because it was always better here than anywhere else. At times I have searched for reasons to leave, but never found one. I have also trained with other companies, especially in the summer. I've been to Helsinki, Copenhagen, Oslo, Munich, Paris, Moscow, Wuppertal, San Francisco, Regensburg, Bremerhaven, Mönchengladbach, the Scapino Ballet, the Nederlands Dans Teater, the Royal Ballet and the English National Ballet in London. Virtuosity alone does not interest me. It is beautiful to look at, but remains superficial. It doesn't fulfil me as an artist. I need emotionality and an understanding of the music. If the music says the opposite of what I'm supposed to portray, I have a problem – unless, of course, it's deliberately intended that way. I want to grasp and understand things in depth and then bring them on to the stage with my own interpretation. 

Translation: Victor Hughes