Rudolf Nureyev passed on this day, January 6, 1993, at the age of 55. Here is something I wrote in Artpaper, February 1993 that is also included in my book: because art, commentary critique, & conversation.
January 11, 1993, Sovetskaya Hotel, St. Petersburg Russia. There were memorial services throughout Russia today; your funeral took place this morning in Paris, but no mention of AIDS. Earlier tonight I attended the Kirov Ballet’s performance of Le Corsaire. You performed its pas de deux when you defected to the West some 30 years ago in 1961. I was only a child then, but you captured my heart with your audacious living and art.
During the first intermission at the Maryinski tonight, I met an elderly man selling early photographs of Kirov’s stars – Makarova, Baryshnikov, you – out of a torn plastic bag. For only a dollar apiece, I acquired a small piece of your history as a young Russian superstar. Seeing your face in the photograph made me remember myself as a younger man and my responses to you - one of my first gay heroes and artworld role models. When I returned for the ballet’s second act, I could think only of how exuberantly you must have danced on the Kirov’s stage.
As I sit in my hotel room (dawn approaching, images of you wash over me), I remember your Romeo to Merle Park’s Juliette in the Royal Ballet’s London production. You seemed as innocent as a 16-year-old, yet possessed a demonic sexual presence that exhilarated me. As I watched you perform over the next 20 years, you became even more omnivorous, powerful, virile. Whether on stage or in occasional sightings in lobbies and restaurants, your bounded into every space flamboyantly, outrageously, defiantly – you gave me courage.
I loved you Rudolf, and want to thank you. I’ll miss you as you join 90 of my other angels who have gone before me with AIDS.