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| Natalia Yurchenko in 1984, on the cover of magazine Smena ('camera') |
When I was a girl, I used to watch gymnastics. Avidly, concentratedly, passionately. There was no Youtube or internet so every second of the three or four hours I had pored over on our little black and white TV set had to fuel my interest for a full twelve months, maybe even more. I had to imagine the rest.
The language of gymnastics was exotic and alien to me : Voronin, Tkachev, Tourischeva, Korbut, Tsukuhara. As the years passed, I became familiar with the meanings and took great pride in being able to pronounce the names. I grew up in Lincoln, a small town in the East Midlands of England. Nobody I knew spoke Russian or knew any Russians, and there was, besides, no way of accessing Russian language publications or broadcasts. Tabloid stories of Cold War, culture and sport, tinged with a strong flavour of suspicion, fear and mystery, developed my taste and fascination for Russian gymnastics. However, for some reason gymnastics always shone like a beacon of friendship and humanity to me, and I wanted to find out more. I am fiercely independent, and don't like to be told what to think, and doesn't it make sense that where human beings are, there is warmth?
I went with my school on a day trip to see the annual USSR Display in 1976, but otherwise Russia and the Soviet Union were a whole, very cold, world away. When I moved to London to live and work, I found Collet's bookshop, discovered the magazine Sport in the USSR. The internal language of Soviet and Russian gymnastics, the beginning of a new world of imagination, opened up to me. Russia, it seems to me, speaks differently about gymnastics. It's not surprising that the concept of ROV - risk, originality, virtuosity - came to life during an era in which she dominated the sport. Words such as artistry, originality, choreography, harmony, lyricism were all used frequently to describe an array of complex ideas that remain cloaked in mystery for the many. Sport was more than competition, became physical culture. Some would describe it as hokum. To me, it was like a wonderful puzzle, one that became concrete in the movement of Mostepanova, Mogilny, Filatova and Artemov.
Then there was Natalia Yurchenko. I first caught sight of her during a BBC TV broadcast in 1978. She was everything a Soviet gymnast should be - intense, expressive in ways that surpassed language, and, somehow, ethereally gifted in the physical domain. Yurchenko said everything about Soviet gymnastics without even uttering a single word.
She comes from Norilsk, Siberia, the world's Northernmost city where the darkness of the Polar night begins in October, and does not lift till April. In this dark, cold, distant place one of the world's greatest gymnasts was born, and trained to produce remarkable, beautiful, astonishing gymnastics. In her exclusive interview with me, Natalia will explain how at the age of eleven she went to a summer training camp, where she was selected to train with a group of elites in the city of Rostov on Don, in the South of Russia. Can you imagine the relief of seeing sunshine and daylight, even during the winter? Besides the opportunity to train seriously in the sport she loved, and the mixed feelings about leaving her family, the improvement in Natalia's life must have been immense.
Natalia's coach in Norilsk, Galina Khusainova, therefore found a new life for her protegee in a somewhat warmer climate, perhaps with more freedom to enjoy nature and the outdoors than Natalia had previously experienced. And the name of her coach, Vladislav Rastorotski, is still well known, iconic even, in the sport today. Rastorotski trained not only Yurchenko, but also Liudmilla Tourischeva, Natalia Shaposhnikova and Alla Shishova. His 'brand' was innovative gymnastics, performed with a trademark classical style. His gymnasts' innovation was true daring and originality. Not for Rastorotski the odd added twist or half twist. His gymnasts brought new dimensions and directions to the sport that remain influential today, none more so than Yurchenko whose name pervades every gymnastics competition, male and female. I don't really need to say anything more. The Yurchenko loop on beam, the Shaposhnikova transition on bars, Shishova's full twisting back on beam, all came from the Rastorotsky stable.
Rastorotsky was a sobre, barrel-like man with pin pricks for his sharp eyes. In the gym, he looked a little like a surprised hedgehog, and rarely seemed to stop talking. In conversation with his gymnasts, he sounds taciturn and peremptory, but when approached for press interviews he waxes lyrical. His training is often described as 'brutal' and devoid of any human kindness, yet he is said to have collected a library of 3,000 books in his home for the benefit of his gymnasts, such was his concern for their education and welfare. He was one of a generation of Soviet gymnastics coaches whose ego might have overpowered the individuality and determination of the gymnasts had it not been for their overwhelming brilliance. It's important not to forget that during the late 70s and early 80s Soviet gymnastics was under great pressure to reclaim and maintain the initiative stolen by the Romanians, and Nadia Comaneci in particular. Comaneci's victory in Montreal had left the Soviets standing. The gymnasts became younger and younger, and more and more daring, as the coaches became more and more outspoken and poetic in their fight for attention and power.
So much of the narrative of Yurchenko's work as a gymnast is subjugated in the Soviet literature and media to a discussion of the work of the coach, in particular Rastorotski. You can watch a 1984 video documentary of Rastorotski's work here. An undated documentary about Natalia's training also makes much of the importance of this inimitable coach.
Yurchenko's career was remarkable because her influence spanned two distinct generations. Her emergence in 1978 came at a time when memories of the classical era of such gymnasts as Tourischeva and Saadi were still very much alive, and when the direct lineage of this tradition, Nelli Kim, was at the helm of the team. Elena Mukhina, a hybrid of the classical and daring gymnast, was world champion. From this point, Yurchenko's career went into hibernation until 1982 when she began to win world competitions. Her gymnastics then epitomised the spirit of adventure and beauty that was characterised in the contemporary Code of Points as ROV (risk, originality, virtuosity). She retired in 1986 when acrobatic gymnasts such as Shushunova and Omelianchik were dominating.
Yurchenko trained alongside 1976 and 1980 Olympians Filatova, Shaposhnikova, Kim and Naimushina as well as 1988 Olympian Shushunova, and would have seen emerging champions such as Laschenova, Strazheva and Boguinskaia making their way up the national rankings. Her elite competitive career in one sense therefore spanned almost eight years, a long time for a young female gymnast at the top of her sport, even today. She is a classical gymnast who hurdled the era of the tumble tot and came out the other side, demonstrating a synthesis of both classical and acrobatic. Few gymnasts show such versatility and endurance.
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| Natalia with gymnasts, Chicago IL, Double Ten Parade, October 2015 |
And now, I'm delighted to say, Natalia has given me an interview in which she discusses her past, present and future. I know that you will enjoy it, and I would also like to say a big 'thank you' to Natalia and to her assistant, Kerry, for doing so much to answer my questions so well, in so much depth.
'All Over Again' (1984) Documentary on the role of the coach, featuring Rastorotski, Yurchenko, Shaposhnikova and Shishova
'Olympic Hopes' (1978) Documentary on the training of the Soviet national teams, men and women, in preparation for the 1980 Olympics.
Natalia, again (undated, but probably early 1980s) Short documentary on Natalia's training
The World Cup, 1982 (Natalia's first international victory)
Natalia Yurchenko (undated documentary)
'Captain' 1984 PDF of Smena, November issue, including article about Natalia.