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The doors of the blue bus hissed open and 120 members of the Leningrad-Kirov Ballet filed into the waiting room at Paris' Le Bourget Airport. Once they were inside, one of the troupe's two "bodyguards" grimly stationed himself at the main exit. As he did, a young, sullen-faced dancer in an ill-fitting grey suit drifted away from the group. Then, suddenly hurrying his pace, he disappeared into the swarm of travelers. The second bodyguard gave chase, frantically pawed his way through the crowd until he found the dancer hiding behind a pillar. "I won't go!" the dancer screamed, and they began to grapple. Wrenching himself free, the dancer bolted into the airport bar and flung himself into the arms of two startled French policemen. "I want to stay!" he cried. "I want to stay!"
So began the career of Rudolf Nureyev in the West. As entrances go, it could not have been more compelling if it had been choreographed by Alfred Hitchcock. In the four years since his leap to freedom, Nureyev (pronounced Nu-ray-yef) has never stopped going up. At first he was a side-show curiosity, a defector in tights. Critics dubbed him "the dancing bear" and "the boy Sputnik." But as he danced across the stages of Europe and North America, the wondering soon turned to wonder. Now, on the eve of a three-month return tour of the U.S. with Britain's Royal Ballet, Rudolf Nureyev stands out as one of the most electrifying male dancers of all time.
Not since Vaslav Nijinsky stunned audiences with his aerial virtuosity half a century ago has a male dancer so completely captivated the world of ballet. When he leaves the theater, hordes of glaze-eyed females of all ages have been known to surround his car and fall on their knees chanting "Thank you, thank you." The admiration extends backstage as well. Whenever he performs, dancers crowd the wings to watch and learn. "Watching Rudi is more than an education," explains the Royal Ballet's Alexander Grant. "He makes every step seem beautiful, possible and important."
Prince & Swan. If this were not enough, Nureyev has been further blessed with a classic partner—Dame Margot Fonteyn, long the reigning ballerina of the Western world. Since they teamed up on the stage of the Royal Ballet three seasons ago, a mystique has grown up around them that rivals the most ethereal fantasies they portray onstage. They have about them all the magic makings for a fairy-tale romance. He is 27, a moody, mysterious Tartar bristling with savage charm. She is 45, an alabaster beauty of elegant refinement. He is the glittering young prince in the first bloom of creative life. She is the dying swan in the last flutter of a shining career.