Летом 1974 года у балетных критиков и просто балетоманов был праздник: Эрик Брун вернулся на сцену. И всех покорил и свел с ума, даром что вернулся отнюдь не принцем Зигфридом, не графом Альбрехтом и даже не Джеймсом без титула, нет, вернулся он после двухлетнего отсутствия - в образе жуткой, безжалостной, коварной и хитрой ведьмы Мэдж. И народ был счастлив. И Нэнси Мур из Dance Magazine в своей статье, посвященной выступлениям Национального балета Канады в Нью-Йорке, посвятила Эрику полторы колонки. А я их с удовольствием переписала, потому что таким интересным добром надо делиться. Итак, это октябрьский номер Dance Magazine за 1974 год, статья Нэнси Мур The Witches' Wings.

Coming out of retirement to dance on stage for the first time in two years, Erik Bruhn, now resident producer of The National Ballet of Canada, assumed the mime-role of Madge on August 9th and 10th for the forst time opposite Rudolf Nureyev's James. It was also the first time the two had shared the same stage. [Нэнси Мур ошибается, забывая о выступлении квартета Эрик Брун - Рудольф Нуриев - Соня Арова - Розелла Хайтауэр - в 1962 году.] Appropriately, this proved to be the most memorable performance of the season.
Startling. The aspect of Bruhn's handsome features and long, large-shouldered torso altered by the hooded cloak and sinister make-up. As if, in one man, you can see two - one blessed, the other ravaged. His face looks just like that of a beautifully contoured skull. Dark, bottomless eyes and gaping mouth. In a rage, he rises up out of his stooped position and teeters menacingly over everyone's heads. You think that if he loses his balance the whole stage might fracture. He makes you feel that he holds great powers - oceans and winds - within him, partially, I think, in the forceful, abrupt way he keeps changing levels - hobbling along with his cane, head leading the way, then suddenly swinging (rather than pulling) his torso upright in one compact unit, nearly forcing himself off balance.
Most bewitching is the way Bruhn assumes the emphatic gestures, limping walk and silence of the role as if these were his usual ways of expressing himself. Together with Nureyev, who is also an excellent mime, he provided us with many instances of vivid, speechless drama. In Scene II of La Sylphide, after James has unintentionally killed the sylph with Madge's cursed scarf, he angrily approaches the witch with undoubtedly murderous intentions, only to find himself up against something like a great, unsteady boulder which might topple over on him at any minute. Madge grabs him by the hair and swings him around like a small child, where he is forced to view La Sylphide ascending into the heavens. Anxiously, James gestures to Madge that he wants to join the lady. Madge raises one long arm and magically, James slumps to the floor. Then Madge begins laughing. And goes on laughing for much too long before the curtains close. With a creepy feeling you wonder, in this new twentieth-century version of the ballet, if James really isn't going anywhere. He's merely dead. [Чуть раньше в статье Нэнси Мур объясняет, что в этой версии Джеймс умирает, надеясь воссоединиться с Сильфидой после смерти, и сам просит Мэдж о смерти. Такой финал был в "Сильфиде" Бурнонвиля 1836 года.]
Bruhn's curtain calls were devastating. Still the witch, he stood alone on the stage, raised his gaunt, grey face and acknowledged the large bouquets which rained down on his shapeless sleeves. He gracefully gathered each of them up in his arms, his cloak fading behind the vibrant reds and greens, until all you could really see were those dark, dark eyes gleaming above the petals.

И нельзя обойтись без иллюстрации: Эрик в роли Мэдж в одном из тех августовских спектаклей (превью, полный размер открывается по клику).