Kazaky, a Boy Band, Is Everywhere - NYTimes.com

ON a Friday afternoon in June, inside XL, the gay club in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen, the four members of Kazaky, a male dance-pop act from Ukraine, were apathetically rehearsing for a performance in celebration of New York’s gay pride weekend.

But any enthusiasm for the coming festivities was hard to detect as they languidly (albeit flawlessly) went through the crisp choreography as projections of the vintage arcade game Pac-Man flickered on a jumbo screen behind them and onto their cut torsos.

“We warn people that we do nothing showy at rehearsal,” said Oleg Zhezhel during an interview in the lobby of the Out Hotel (at 31, he is the group’s oldest, most muscular member and its de facto leader). “We save the force for the real thing.” In unison, his band mates nodded in agreement, creating the effect of a brawny four-headed Eastern European monster that shares one brain.

Beside Mr. Zhezhel, there’s Artur Gaspar, 28, a former student at the St. Petersburg State Ballet Theater; Francesco Borgato, 22, a mop-headed Italian who replaced a founding member, Stas Pavlov, last year; and Kyryll Fedorenko, 21, a onetime competitive ballroom dancer. (With the exception of Mr. Borgato, none of the members of Kazaky speak fluent English. The interview was conducted with an interpreter they supplied.)

For the last year, they have earned high praise from trend gatekeepers like the fashion editor Anna Dello Russo, the photography duo Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott and the designers Dan and Dean Caten of DSquared2, who invited the four men to close their spring men’s presentation a year ago. In a review of that show for Style.com, Tim Blanks labeled the group “four dizzy queens” with a “post-Gaga get-outta-my-way-bitch shtick.”

Since then, with millions of views on YouTube of their music videos like “Love” and “In the Middle,” the boys of Kazaky have dug their five-and-a-half-inch heels firmly into the world stage. Campy but deadpan, they’re arguably part of the boy band revival, however fringe, brought on by their European contemporaries One Direction and the Wanted. Their flaw-free dance moves also tap into the popularity of shows like “So You Think You Can Dance” and the resurfacing of the ’90s Vogue-ball aesthetic in New York’s underground night life. (The group maintains they do all their own choreography.)

The music, thumping electro clash with blunt phrases like “Love me/Hate me/I don’t care,” is the sort of fluff you might find on the Eurovision song contest. And in an era in which Lady Gaga gabs on about subverting gender and sexuality norms, these fellows strut the strut.

“They are like weird little furies that flew down from Mount Olympus who scare us all with their beauty,” said Simon Doonan, the longtime Barneys eminence, who has been devotedly keeping track of the group’s projects online after a colleague showed him one of their music videos last year.

“They speak the language of our visual world,” said the photographer Inez van Lamsweerde, another fan, who shot the group, alongside her husband, Vinoodh Matadin, for the July issue of V magazine. “I kept saying to them, ‘Teach me how to dance.’ I wish they could train all my models.”

Kazaky’s widest exposure to date, perhaps, was when they were chosen by Madonna, known for cultivating emerging dance talent, to be her backup dancers for her “Girl Gone Wild” video, which had its debut in March. The clip’s stylist, the Oscar-nominated costume designer Arianne Phillips, had to create custom high heels hacked down from “hooker boots,” as Ms. Phillips called them, for each member of the band because she was unable to find shoes in their sizes by the deadline.

“By the end of the day on set, our feet were bleeding and we had blisters,” Mr. Gaspar said. “But if Madonna can repeat the dancing for the 50th time, why can’t we?”

Madonna wrote in an-email: “It was great fun working with Kazaky. They were not starstruck at all. They went straight to work when they arrived and they were extremely professional. They took their job very seriously and they were very humble.”

This type of professionalism comes with personal boundaries. Take the are-they-or-aren’t-they question of each member’s sexuality that pops up on message boards and YouTube comments, for example.

“The reason we never answer this question is because we try to keep a kind of mysterious charm,” Mr. Zhezhel said.

“We are unbiased in terms of being pro-straight or pro-gay,” Mr. Fedorenko said. “There is no gender-related implication. It’s all about the dance and the movement.”

Being sphinxlike not only enhances their haughty, statuesque image, but is also shrewd business, especially in their homeland.

“We love our country, but it is a bit conservative,” Mr. Zhezhel said. “There are lots of girls at our concerts. More guys don’t come because they are afraid to admit what they see. After a performance, a lot of men come up to us and ask for a picture for their girlfriend. When we ask him what is her name, the guy forgets.”

Tony Fornabaio, a partner at XL and a night-life promoter, first brought Kazaky to Club 57 in July 2011. This time, he said, he noticed a dip in enthusiasm: “At that show last year, kids showed up wearing heels. Not this year. I’ve worked with huge stars like Kylie Minogue and Kelly Rowland who love hanging out with their fans after a performance, but these guys barely even said hello to anyone after the show. I am not sure how long they can sustain it, to be honest.”

Kazaky’s sustainability will be tested with the release of their still-untitled first album, tentatively planned for before fall, and a new music video for “Barcelona,” its single. They are currently on their worldwide “A’Men” tour. A clothing line in collaboration with their stylist, Anna Osmekhina, is planned.

Ms. Phillips said she thinks that the opportunities for the group are vast. “Forget the Kardashians, I want to see ‘Keeping Up With the Kazakys,’ ” she said. “I want them to have their own dolls, leather pants, high heels, you name it. They can take this thing as far as they want to.”

The boys of Kazaky appeared unconcerned about their long-term career prospects. “We’ve never played in a club that is half-empty once since we started,” Mr. Gaspar said.

Mr. Fedorenko chimed in, “Maybe in 10 years we will still be doing this project or maybe producing other rising stars.”

Mr. Zhezhel added, “One thing is sure: we are definitely not becoming doctors,” to which the other three members of the group stoically bobbed their heads in approval.