Hazaros Surmeyan had a 54-year career with the National Ballet of Canada.Supplied
If ever a dancer had been born to play the role of Don Quixote, it was Hazaros Surmeyan. A towering figure on stage with a roguish twinkle in his eye, “Lazo” was a gentle giant behind the scenes, known for his kindness and goofy sense of humour. It was no big stretch to transform into the winsome and lovable knight of the eponymous ballet, based on Miguel de Cervantes’s classic novel.
Over his 54-year career with the National Ballet of Canada, 20 as a principal dancer, Mr. Surmeyan performed many of the canon’s lead princes and dashing noblemen. But his creativity found a special outlet when he became a principal character artist in 1986. By imbuing infamous sorcerers and en travesti widows with his dramatic temperament and natural warmth, he shaped what being a character artist meant in the company, and in Canadian ballet more generally.
Hazaros Surmeyan died at his home in Toronto on June 1 of natural causes. He was 83.
Born in Skopje, Macedonia (then Yugoslavia) on Jan. 21, 1943, to Artur Surmejan and Radmila Todorovska, Lazo was raised alongside his younger brother, Armen, in a home filled with music. Artur was a dramatic tenor at the opera of the National Theatre of Macedonia, where he performed many of Puccini’s and Verdi’s iconic leading men. He often took his sons to work with him; Lazo grew up in the theatre’s wings and dressing rooms, enamoured with the orchestra, the costumes, the tragic stories. When he was offered a spot at the closely affiliated ballet school, he leapt at the opportunity and quickly distinguished himself among its most talented students.
After graduation, Mr. Surmeyan danced with the Skopje Opera Ballet and the Belgrade Opera Ballet, performing roles including Benvolio in Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet and Kashchei in Stravinsky’s The Firebird. At a time when few passports were issued by the Yugoslav government, he longed to travel and build his career. Luckily, his famous father was able to cut through the red tape and, in 1960, Mr. Surmeyan left for Paris to train with Janine Charrat’s Ballet de France, before accepting contracts in Germany at the Mannheim Opera Ballet and, later, the Cologne Opera Ballet.
Mr. Surmeyan with Karen Kain in Swan Lake.Supplied
In 1965, fate would take him even farther from home when Celia Franca, the National Ballet of Canada’s enterprising founder and director, sent resident choreographer Grant Strate to Europe on a mission. She needed a male dancer tall enough to partner a promising ballerina fresh out of school, the five-foot-seven Martine Van Hamel. Mr. Surmeyan was performing as a guest artist with the Munich Ballet when Mr. Strate approached him with a contract for a principal dancer. He had never planned to move to North America and had a competing offer from the Zurich Ballet. But on his father’s advice, he moved to Toronto and never looked back.
Veronica Tennant, then a rising young star, remembers Mr. Surmeyan “exploding” into rehearsal one day in 1966 at the old St. Lawrence Hall on the southeast corner of King Street and Jarvis Street in Toronto, the National Ballet’s home for more than four decades. “Lazo was larger than life. … The word ‘virile’ leaps to mind,” she said. “He had all of us in thrall.”
The 23-year-old newcomer didn’t speak much English at first. But that changed once he set eyes on Lorna Geddes, a beautiful corps de ballet dancer from Waterloo, Ont. “I do recall a certain look in Lorna’s eye on those first days of his bursting into our midst,” Ms. Tennant added. “There were sparks!” Ms. Geddes and Mr. Surmeyan were married in 1968.
Throughout the late sixties and early seventies, Mr. Surmeyan distinguished himself as a powerful dancer with an exuberant stage presence and excellent technique. According to veteran Canadian dance critic Michael Crabb, he knew how to make a ballerina look good. So Ms. Franca paired Mr. Surmeyan with the best of the era, including Ms. Tennant and Vanessa Harwood.
“He was a fabulously strong partner and a most talented dance-actor,” recalled Ms. Tennant, who describes him dancing Romeo in three consecutive shows in Japan at Expo70, a feat of both artistic and athletic endurance.
Mr. Surmeyan in Balanchine's Don Quixote, a role many felt he was born to play.photo by Cylla von Tiedemann/Supplied
When Ms. Tennant was injured during a U.S. tour of Swan Lake in 1971, Mr. Surmeyan became part of a moment of ballet history. He danced Prince Siegfried opposite an unknown 19-year-old who had been thrust on stage in her first lead role. Her name was Karen Kain, and the performance launched her international career.
“Lazo was wonderful,” Ms. Kain wrote in her 1994 memoir. “Whenever my legs buckled he’d sweep me off my feet into a lift and pretended it was the choreography. He literally carried me through much of the last act, shielding me from major humiliation.”
In 1976, Mr. Surmeyan and Ms. Geddes welcomed a son, André, who grew up watching his parents rehearse in the studio and perform on stage. The National Ballet toured frequently in that era, and the young André went with them, sometimes as far as East Asia. When he wasn’t goofing around with the other dancers’ children, he would watch his father from the wings, knowing Mr. Surmeyan would always find a moment to catch his eye and wink.
“It was magical – he always knew I was there,” the younger Mr. Surmeyan said. “He was so vibrant and dramatic on stage, he had the most incredible expressions.”
Mr. Surmeyan in La Sylphide.Supplied
When Lazo reached his early 40s, his strength and stamina weren’t what they used to be. “With my big nose and ears it was easy to move into character roles,” he said in a 2020 interview with the Toronto Star. In 1986, the company appointed him a principal character artist.
Mr. Surmeyan made the move with fellow principal dancer Tomas Schramek, his dear friend. The two Eastern European immigrants (Mr. Schramek left the former Czechoslovakia after the Soviet crushing of Prague Spring) had already shared a dressing room as principal dancers; now they sat side by side at the mirror and applied the elaborate stage makeup and facial hair to become magicians and kings.
“He was very good at creating characters,” Mr. Schramek said. “He was an incredible artist. I learned a hell of a lot from him, you know, sitting beside him in a dressing room, developing makeup for a character. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
Ballet companies function much like trade guilds, with lessons and secrets passed down through generations. As Mr. Surmeyan got older, he became both a mentor and cheerleader, helping many young princes find the confidence they needed.
“Guillaume Côté was petrified when he performed his first Swan Lake,” Mr. Schramek said of the recently retired principal dancer. “Lazo was there backstage encouraging him and helping him.”
Emma Hawes, a former first soloist with the company and now a lead principal dancer with the English National Ballet, has fond memories of Mr. Surmeyan making everyone laugh backstage. “He got to know everyone in their own special way and he always brought levity to the room,” she said. “We can get pretty self-serious in these situations, and he offered a lot of silliness and perspective and kindness.”
Beyond the National Ballet, Mr. Surmeyan created a production of Romeo and Juliet in Macedonia in 1987 and Anna Karenina in Skopje in 2003. He was also a beloved ballet teacher at Diana Jablokova-Vorps’s Toronto Summer School in Dance, the Vancouver Ballet Society, Sarasota Academy of Ballet Arts, and a guest ballet master and principal character dancer for a tour of China with Xing Bang Fu’s Panda Dance Theatre Canada.
Mr. Surmeyan and Ms. Geddes both retired from the National Ballet in 2020. After that, Mr. Surmeyan had more time to devote to his hobbies, which included building model ships and doing elaborate home renovations. “He worked hard his whole life,” André Surmeyan said. “And he was very generous, he did everything for me and my mom. He was the strongest man I’ve ever known.”
In the CBC television adaptation (directed by Eric Till) of Ann Ditchburn’s 1977 ballet Mad Shadows, Mr. Surmeyan dances the part of an imperious husband. At one point, he turns his back on the ballerina, exuding breathtaking passion. It was one of his favourite roles, and a lasting tribute to his dramatic talent.
In addition to his wife, brother and son, Mr. Surmeyan leaves his daughter-in-law, Chrissy Surmeyan, and two grandsons, Maddox and Myles.
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